#you're the reason I'm still here and smiling daily

[dancing-dawn]

*cracks knuckles over keyboard*

All The Memories Of You_collectingblues, 111k words

100% canon material and you can't convince me otherwise. I think about this daily even a month after reading, I'm not exaggerating. It broke my standards for fanfiction to a point that any time I read something of lower quality I just can't help but compare to this and mourn lol. Plot mainly revolves around the events of the 6-month deal, with Aku and Atsushi slowly developing their relationship through many hardships and realizations. So many powerful moments here live rent-free in my mind, from the fights, terrors and living nightmares to the domestic wholesomeness, gentle care and careless laughter and everything in between.

waiting room_srxlee, 96k words

Not to be dramatic but if I could meet the author I would fall to my knees and kiss their feet. it. is. that. good. Left me absolutely heartbroken (and it has a happy ending ffs), this is the most poetic writing I've ever read in my life, could be a whole ass best-seller novel. Centers around Akutagawa's sickness in modern AU and the growth of his relationship with Atsushi, both before and after he finds out (and angst ensues). I would sell my soul just to the style of writing alone, trust me, not to mention the plot and the pure unrivaled emotion behind every line.

at the curtains close_GhouliGhost, kitkatfics (miniekooki), 165 k words

*takes a deep breath* I speedran this in 3 days and still cannot recover from the emotional damage. In the beginning I was like "haha that's hilarious wtf am I getting into" and then watch me just a few chapters later sobbing my eyes out, clutching my heart and reflecting on my life. Probably the most realistic portrayal of a relationship I've ever read. Come see how two teachers, one being a rich asexual science nerd and the other a theatre-loving cam-boy, struggling in the depths of hell (aka financing debt) become dear friends, companions in life and lovers.

A Story Unfinished_SpiderLilyRed, 14k words

I have a soft spot for writers AU (cuz of obvious reasons) and this managed to make me smile, laugh, broke my heart and then glued the pieces. Very cute concept of Aku being a writer that is forced to write romance and your local cutie bookshop employee Atsushi turns out to be just the expert you need (to wonder why hmmm)!

enshroud me_lostdimension, 6k words

Not sure if E-rated is up your alley, but recommending just in case because it's my all-time favourite. Incredibly gorgeous and poetic writing, this is love, okay, just pure and unconditional love. Incredibly soft and vulnerable, with hurt and comfort on the side because angst is the perfect catalyst of emotion, isn't it.

a hope to return_auroraheart, 11k words

Akutagawa dies and it's fucking beautiful, I need say no more. Just be in a very masochistic mood to read :3 It has a lot of wholesomeness and fun too!! (totally not to trick you into a false sense of security nu nu)

foolish_ringingmaybelles, 13k words

Restaurant AU sickfic! I remember I enjoyed it a lot at the time, it has well-written characters (as with everything I rec here), lot of caretaking and cute little crushes. Also Gin has a pretty important cameo and as an Aku-stan, Gin by default has my heart <3 This author in general has the best sickfics so I advice to check them out if you're in the mood!

dying by design_halfbloom (diphylleias), 5k words

And a shortie for dessert! Imagine this as a missing scene somewhere in the canon material, it does not disappoint in the slightest. It's just them talking on a rooftop, but the characterization is so on point that my jaw was to the floor the whole time, idk how they wrote it so perfectly canonical.

(aaand that's the best of of the best I've found and devoured since the start of my bsd obsession 2 or so months ago. I'm very passionate about sskk and those fics in particular and I selfishly hope this doesn't get lost in the void, happy reading my peeps!) (i definitely have more but trying to have some self-restriction here lol)

I NEED SSKK FICS RECOMMANDATION SOBS

GIMMZ THE SILLIIES

[Any fic works pls I just need something to read 😭]

[benkeibear]

I just now got to read all these beautiful tree messages and I can not put to words how grateful I am to have such sweet and caring moots and followers.

Thank you to each and everyone who took the time to leave a few nice words there - they truly mean more than you'll ever know. I wish I could hug everyone right now so if you feel warm and fuzzy in a moment it's me giving you a virtual hug 🥹🤍

[goldsbitch]

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

//

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"Shells and Secrets"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x posideion!fem!reader

Summary: you and your best friend luke take your daily walk together but this time its different

Contains: kisses (making out), fluff, swearing, angst

Word Count: 1180

A/N: im back again! And in case you can't tell im obsessed with luke and the beach so here we are!

"Come on Starfish," Luke's voice reaches you before he does, grabbing your arm and dragging you along to the beach. "I don't care that you want to sleep, it's five o'clock in the afternoon you can sleep later."

You mumble your disagreement. Nothing should stand in the way of a girl and her sleep - especially not her needy best friend. Even if she's in love with him. A girl and her sleep should never be separated. A conversation you've had with Luke many times - not the in love part though - that is just for you to keep for yourself.

"I'm going to jump you in the middle of the night," you grumble to him, ignoring the grin that spreads across his face.

"Hmm, a beautiful girl jumping on me sounds pretty damn good," Luke smirks.

"But you're forgetting the best part," you say as your feet hit the sand - you're now on the beach. "The best part is her jumping you with a shiv or smothering you with a pillow."

Luke's grin grows even wider. "Yeah but see I'll fight back so you'll need to be in a place of control and you know what that means? A beautiful girl jumping on me and straddling me."

You fight the urge to blush because he just called you beautiful twice. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach you take off in a run down the beach. Luke yells after you and starts to chase you.

"You can't escape me, Starfish!" he cries, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you to a stop. You try and wriggle free but end up just tripping over and pulling him down onto the sand.

You're flat on your back and Luke is braced above you, his hands on either side of your head, his mouth inches from your own. The moment freezes between you two and your breaths mingle.

Why isn't he moving? Luke has never shown interest in you before, he's always had girls lining up to date him - sure he's never dated any of them - but he's never looked at you the way he looks at them.

But now, now that he's inches on top of you, his mouth inches away from your own, his dark curls tickling your forehead. He's looking at you in a way he's never looked at anybody.

You clear your throat and that seems to snap the bubble that has surrounded you. Luke clears his own throat and stands up helping you up as well. "You uh, you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah I'm fine!" you smile and start to walk ahead again trying furiously to cover the blush that's spread across your cheeks.

Luke watches you walk ahead with a soft look on his face. He's been desperately in love with you since the day you had accidentally dunked him in water when you were learning to control your powers. You had instantly cracked a joke and quickly apologised when you noticed the way he was staring at you. In that moment all other people had fallen out of Luke's head so he was staring at you for much different reasons than you thought.

Up ahead, you stop to look at a shell and your hair falls in a curtain around your face. Luke stops and watches as you pick the shell up and walk to the water washing it off to get a better look. He smiles at you admiring shells and not worrying about training, or other people just being yourself.

Eventually you sit down on a log, and wait for Luke to catch up to you. "Hurry up you slow shit," you call out to him and he shakes his head jogging over to the log you're sitting on. He sits down next to you and rests his arm- Your arms are touching. Every thought falls out of your head. Your arms are touching after literally lying on top of each other before - whether it's intentional or not it still sends tingles up your arm.

"How are we going to celebrate your new half-brother Starfish?" Luke asks, nudging your shoulder with his own. You hum in thought resting your head on his shoulder, not noticing how he's slowed his breathing down to make you more comfortable.

"Maybe we could dunk him in the ocean, oooh or we could get Annabeth to do something!" you say laughing.

Luke chuckles, his laughter rumbling through you. "I think we could get her on board." You lean further into Luke unconsciously and he basically stills - this you notice.

"Luke?" you pull back and look at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

He starts to mumble under his breath but at your insistent look he clears his throat. "Uh, nothing."

"Luke?"

He avoids your gaze, dropping his head to look at the sand. "Luke?" you say placing a hand on his thigh. He tenses up again so you instantly rip your hand away worried that he's hurt. "Shit sorry, are you hurt." Luke's hand whips out and grabs yours.

"No! Its, its not that," he says as his gaze settles on your mouth. He rubs his thumb in circles on the back of your hand.

"Then what is it?" you say placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me y'know? I'm your starfish." You run your hand over his shoulder and up his neck.

Luke seems to ease into your touch. "Luke?" You lean forward hoping he will tell you. Instead he just stares at you with the same look from earlier. Sighing you slip your hand into his hair and run your hands there a few times. "Alright, take your time. I'm here when you're ready to talk." You stand up and let go of his hand walking to the shore letting the waves lap gently at your ankles.

"Y/n," Luke's voice is soft when he stops at your side. You twist to look at him but are met with the soft press of his lips. You pull back stunned and Luke starts to swear.

"Shit sorry, Starfish I- I don't know why I did tha-'' You shut him up by basically launching yourself on him. Your lips smashing onto his own, hungrily kissing his mouth.

It takes Luke a few seconds to realise what's happening and then all at once it's like a leash snaps and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you impeccably closer. He parts your lips letting his tongue explore your mouth with heartbreaking softness.

Your hands slip into his hair and you stumble backwards tripping over each other's legs until your back hits the sand and once again Luke is on top of you.

You pull back slightly, catching your breath. "Well, that was well said."

Luke smirks and looks at you with such adoration your heart melts. "Right back at you Starfish," he winks and fights the urge to kiss you again, instead a large smile grows on his face.

"We should probably talk about this, hey?" you say grinning back up at him.

"Yeah let's talk..."

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You've been living a peaceful life for the last 100 years, trying to be off the radar.

You did help Strange a few times from afar, but becoming an active participant? No, you had enough of that.

Your owned ranch, your owned daily routines. You were almost healed from centuries of fighting for your life, ideals and power.

Until one day Strange broke his part of the deal.

"I need your help."

You sighed. He never cared about your garden. Always appearing when you were searching for escape with your flowers.

"No, Stephen. Whatever it is, I don't care. And please levitate. You're leaving traces."

"it's Agatha Harkness."

You looked at him. No emotions. He was waiting for your reaction. But you didn't give him any clues.

"Since when can't you fight a bound witch?"

You turned back to your apple tree. You knew in what state Agatha was. Not a threat, not an opponent. She was too deep in her illusion.

"Everything is going to change soon. There are… Entities who want her free."

"Name me one entity who would want to be betrayed by her."

"I can name you two. The boy."

"One of the twins. " Only the sound of your garden shears was heard.

It wasn't even a question. You already felt it. Stephen wouldn't be here if the reason wasn't so serious.

"And the other one?"

"Your old friend."

"Why don't you do this yourself, Stephen?"

"You know I'm not allowed to interact with her."

___

WestView used to be a charming town. Before the Hex. You could still feel the remains of Wanda's magic. People were still scared, wounds were too fresh.

You quickly found Agatha. She was blissfully living through her illusion. Wanda definitely had style.

You knew Harkness when she was dangerous, now she was weak and vulnerable.

If it was the old you, her neck would snap in a second. But you changed. And she wasn't the one you were searching for.

If Stephen was right you were all fucked.

You followed Agatha to the police station, pawn shop, and her house.

The boy wasn't here yet. You had some time. You built yourself a charming backstory, you pretended to love bad coffee. In a month you were already a citizen of WestView.

What if Stephen was wrong? This happened before. Agatha was protected by her own dreams until the cracks the power of nature itself called for you.

You rushed to your hotel room. You needed protective spells. You were not the only witch in town.

___

Stephen was right. Unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer.

"I thought you could afford a better place."

Stephen was right. You were all fucked.

"I thought you're old enough not to play with food."

Rio laughed at the remark. You almost forgot that sound.  You recognized her immediately. Sure the clothes were different, hair, eyes were greener than you remembered.

There was no point in the book you were holding. You started remembering that spells never worked against Rio.

"What are you doing here?" She noticed your gesture of peace. No fight tonight.

"Making sure that you're keeping the monster on the leash."

"oh, it's so much fun not being a monster in this scenario." Rio smiled like a child who finally got her approval.

"It's not about you." You suddenly felt tired. You had this talk before. Each century you were alive.

"It's about you." Rio chose to come closer.

"Is that a holster under your jacket?"

"Yeah, Agatha is in her Swedish crime show period. You like it?"

Rio got rid of her jacket, which simply disappeared in thin air. Brunette always loved theatricality.

"Sure." You were not planning for her to be in your space. You tried to step aside.

"No, no, no." Rio grabbed your hand. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

You noticed the green light. No doubt her crown was a reminder of her power. Her cosmic power, her power over you.

"Leave the covenless witch alone." You whispered. Oh, but Rio heard every word. She smirked.

"or else?" you could feel her magic all over you.

You formed the fireball in your palm. Light was dancing in Rio's eyes.

"oh, isn't it our favorite foreplay?" witch mimicked your move with her free hand. Green rose appeared. "I missed this."

She let go of you and offered the flower. You took it.

You started remembering. Once it was like this. Every day. You almost forgot why you were here.

"leave Agatha as she is." You still were looking at the flower. It was flawless. Created by nature itself.

"really?" Rio groaned. "if I had known you'd care about her so much I'd lure her into darkness ages ago."

You could hear the hurt in her voice. It wasn't a distraction from her plan. She turned to the door. You flicked your wrist. Thin line of fire appeared around Rio's neck.

"I can't kill you. But I can definitely slow you down."

"till your sorcerer comes?" Rio laughed. She tilted her head and it was enough for you to hit the wall. If she wanted to you'd never get up again.

"Let's have a deal. You give me one date and I give you one more day of bound covenless witch."

___

This idea was so wrong. With Rio you never had courtship per se. The day you met she stayed with you. It was always about the sparks that amplified the worst in both of you.

You needed to know Rio's plan. You needed to win yourself some time.

This time Rio didn't invite herself In. You opened the door. This time it was a bouquet of flowers that never even existed. No doubt, Rio created them only for you.

This time it was a green suit. Always on brand.

Of course she was driving. It was the most human thing you ever saw her doing.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll drink and watch the wolves howl at the full moon."

"There are no wolves here."

"I brought a few with me."

___

"Why did you leave me?" it was her first question after the awkward silence.

You were sitting on the branches that Rio lowered for you. Pack of white wolves was playing in front of you, occasionally asking for attention.

"Is that important?"

"don't mortals talk about their experiences, share feelings?"

"you're not a mortal."

"tonight I am."

You shrugged. You had to play this game.

"I was tired of being… A villain." whiskey was still burning your throat after all these years.

"I never asked you to."

"you never did. But you sure as hell were reminding me every day of who I was. With you I've forgotten the weight of my choices. With you everything was just a game…"

You felt her touch on your skin. Rio guided you towards her. You remembered this. She kissed you like this before. Many moons like this ago.

She was gentle. Always was. You just forgot it.

"You were never a game."

"And you were always thriving on chaos.",

You stood up. Immediately one of the wolves ran towards you. He was friendly, but like with Rio you were not sure he wasn't trained to pretend.

"Why do you need a covenless witch?"

"Is it important right now? It's always about the balance."

"Right. And a few witches you can take for yourself."

Greens started wrapping around your waist and arms. Rio was calling you. Slowly you let them drag you to her. You used to play like this. You used to allow her this.

"Give me another date and you'll get another day."

___

The next day you went to her house. She recreated the garden you once had. With her powers it was so much easier.

"Remember how we used to play with reality?"

"Yes."

Rio remembered every single of your creations. She was attentive to details. You did play with reality. Both of you. You were luring your enemies into scenarios that could never be real. And after that Rio was feasting on them.

"Exactly like now you're playing with Agatha. You always protected your deal with her."

You preferred this Rio more. With the crown, with the flowers in the dress. It was her element.

"She's an effective killer. That's it."

"And what about the boy?"

"And what about your peaceful life?" Rio squeezed grapes and the wine poured in glasses. She offered you one.

"It is expectedly peaceful."

"Sounds boring. Maybe that's why you're here. With me? Missed the fun?"

What did she want to hear from you? You never cared about fun. You missed her. You missed your lover, your partner, your chosen one. You missed your garden. It was never fun. It was always you destroying everyone with fire.

Rio threw her Chalice on the ground. Wine turned into flowers. Again she was too close. She was behind you. She was seducing you with her breath on your neck.

"Rio…" You tried not to give in so easily. "I'm here because…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the greater good." She was playing with your hair, whispering right into your soul. "It's all about not letting Agatha and the kid get their powers."

Her fingers were studying your heartbeat. She always thought that this curious mortal sound was only for her.

You only inhaled sharply. When you agreed to Stephen's plea you knew all about the risk. But you thought you were stronger than this.

"Let go of me."

When did her fingers travel to your neck? You didn't notice. Your whole body was tingling. Your soul was aching for her. You were alone for so long.

"You don't want this."

Of course you didn't. But Rio had no right to say it out loud.

___

Your third date was an unspoken agreement. You cooked. More for yourself, than for Rio. Old book of recipes reminded you of the hardships of trying to live amongst ordinary people.

"Candles are not lit."  Oh, that smug face. Rio always adored seeing your deadly powers in the most boring situations.

Table was between you this time.  You hoped it would help. It would give you a chance to win some time.

You tilted your head. Instead of candles - the fireplace became playful.  You disobeyed. In a very small detail, but Rio noticed.

This time the silence was longer, heavier. She wasn't eating. she wasn't playing.

"Do you ever miss your mortal family?"

"I do."

"What's it like?"

Rio never respected the concept of privacy. But those were the rules. You had to talk.

"Don't you know? Were you not there when both my husband and daughter died in my arms?"

You stood up for another bottle. Rio followed you to the kitchen.

"Did they… Did they give you what I couldn't?"

"They taught me once again to care about life. Respect the time. They reminded me that you're supposed to exist not only for your own sake."

You didn't admit that you barely remembered their faces. That the pain was almost gone. That for you it was just a fleeting moment. You already didn't remember whether it was real or not.

"Well, I remind everyone exactly this. But with you it's chaos, right?"

You could swear you saw a tear. Was Rio even capable of this? After all the time. all the damage. all the emptiness.

You pulled her closer. You wanted only to remind her that it was never her fault. You desperately wanted to remind her of that. You were clawing deeper and deeper into her. Biting. scratching, kissing whatever skin you could get.

You were tearing the silk. You pushed her against the kitchen aisle. It was always the chaos. But chaos that you wanted and were thriving for.

Now the chaos suddenly wanted to submit. You didn't expect that.

"I missed this." you were murmuring in her ear. You were ready to get on your knees for her. When did your hunger appear again? This time it was different. No burned land, no fallen trees, no skars and marks of struggle.

It was different this time. It took more than a hundred years for Rio to finally feel regret.

You didn't notice how you got into the bedroom. How clothes weren't yours anymore.

She took care of you. Rio always wanted only this.

___

The next day you didn't want to open your eyes. What if Rio wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm here."

Rio was watching you. She looked tense. She was sitting in the armchair, which now resembled the throne. She pointed to the cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Charming as usual."

"We don't have much time, baby." And there it was. Your nickname. "Kid is coming tonight. We need to be there."

"Oh, no, no. I'm not letting you…"

"It's about the kid. Not a covenless witch. He needs to come with me. And you will make sure it happens. Isn't this what sorcerers want?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you'll have to join the road. Come baby, we don't have much time." she gave you a peck on the cheek. "It's gonna be like the old times."

You sighed. Yeah, this was going to be an adventure. You simply hoped that this night you saw the real Rio. And after this night you would stay the same.

[suiana]

I miss the time you used to make actual fics

(yandere! villain x gn! hero's sidekick reader) (idk what this is bruh i wanted to make it heroic but then it turned out like this)

when your world gets shrouded in ugliness and grime, a time will come when a person will light up the torch that guides you through even the darkest of nights.

if you had known that things would be like this, you would never have decided to take on the duty of being a hero. after all, with glory came the overwhelming loneliness of being the saviour.

you were never really the righteous type. always put yourself over others when a life-threatening situation would come. sure, you were a sidekick to the number one hero but you still had to save yourself first, right? well, no.

because for some reason when the gods decided to punish the earth, you had stepped forward to protect everyone when no one else would.

people called you a hero. with tears running down their faces as they thanked you for saving them and their families. the press recorded your selfless act and praised you as humanity's saviour.

you wished you could take your words back. to say that you didn't want to shoulder the punishment of humanity on your own. that if you could reverse time you'd hide in the crowd as god rained his fury down on everyone.

because at least then you wouldn't be alone.

the wind brushes past your face, hair flowing wildly in the cold of the dead night. the road to hell was a long one after all, and god's first punishment was to have you walk the cold path to your death.

it's okay, you told yourself. you're saving people, you tried to reassure yourself.

yet you had never expected the cost of other's freedom to come at such a great price. for here you were, trudging into the lonely night with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

humans are inherently selfish. the only reason they praised you was because they wanted to make themselves feel better for choosing to sacrifice one of their own instead of accepting the punishment. if they were truly grateful they'd have walked down this path with you together, wouldn't they?

but you were all alone. the city was alive as always, people going about with their daily lives. happy chatter and innocent smiles as they walked the streets. the city skyline was beautiful, buildings coloured in bright lights and advertisements. life was normal.

it's not fair.

it's not fair.

it's not fair.

why did you have to suffer when they could walk free of sin? they were the original sinners! why did you have to bear the weight of their actions all on your own?!

looking down at your shivering hands, you walk towards the edge of the building. how high up were you? 50 floors? 55? you couldn't remember. you didn't want to remember. because you knew that it'd be a long way down either way.

you didn't want to die yet. you still had so much to live for, still had so much you wanted to accomplish and do.

but everyone was counting on you to save the world.

so you took a trembling step forward, planning on embracing the cold embrace of death.

"ah... i'm falling."

your body felt weightless as you fell off the building, eyes shut as you tried to bite back the tears that threatened to slip past.

no, you couldn't cry. you had to be brave. that's what a hero does. be brave no matter what, right? even when you were dying?

"if only someone could save me, how nice it would be."

"what are you doing you stupid hero?!"

a shout snaps you out of your trance, his hands reaching out to grab you.

"you-!"

"do you seriously want to die?!"

his hold on your hand was tight, almost afraid as though you'd slip out of his grasp. you take in the way his normally cocky face was now full of fear, face scrunched up in a way that exposed all of his hidden vulnerabilities.

then you had realized he jumped off after you.

"you- you jumped off! now we're both going to die!"

you scream at him, eyes darting all over. no freaking way. you knew that the villain was always stupid but to jump after you after you were going to die? did he cook his brain in the air fryer today?!

"shit shit- no! you can't die too! please tell me this is a dream! only one of us needs to handle divine duty-"

"shut up! who said anything about dying?"

his sharp voice cuts through your thoughts as he wraps his arms around your body.

"i'm the villain, remember? how could i die just like that?"

time seems to slow as he brings both of you to a complete stop. attached to his back was a piece of dark matter rope, probably made with his ability so that it wouldn't break halfway. oh, so he had a backup plan.

you stammer, feeling your cheeks heat up as the man slowly brings you back up to the top of the building, his arms tight and secure all the way up. when he had ensured both of you were right back on solid ground, he exhaled sharply and shot you a glare.

"stupid hero. did you want to die that badly?"

he questions, flicking your forehead before scoffing.

"even your damn hero that you worked for didn't want to give up his life, why did you want to do it? don't you know that i like you?"

the villain's words are surprisingly soft despite the hint of anger in them. how cute, he was worried for you? and yes, you know that he likes you. how could you not? he literally shows it every time you meet up to fight with him.

making kissy faces at you, casually flirting while he tears apart a building, beating up random people who had the audacity to flirt with what he thought was his to court, inviting you out to dinner as he avoids an attack from the hero... well, you suppose it worked out in the end? he did save you from dying.

"look, all that god told us to do was to clean up the garbage. don't know why you decided taking on the sins of everyone was a smart idea."

he grumbles, running a hand through his hair before placing a hesitant hand on your waist to tug you closer. your breath hitches as he suddenly rests his head against your shoulder, his breath tickling your skin.

"we could clean it up, you know? i mean, what's stopping us? i know you don't really want to die after all."

wait a second, what was he suggesting? to become god's messengers

"after all... we're the strongest, aren't we?"

well, not really but you suppose so.

you stare at him, a conflicted expression on your face before you huff. you didn't really want to be a villain but... what other option was there? you sure as hell didn't want to die for the sake of people you've never met before. especially when some of them were literal criminals.

"how do we clean up the trash?"

the villain smirks at your words.

"great question, we'll kill them all!"

"no."

"okay, we beat them up and make them all repent. then we kill them!"

"no!"

shaking your head, you let out a sigh. damn it all. looks like you're no longer the saviour.

"hehe, don't look so down cutie. we're technically doing god's work."

you stare at him, eyes narrowing before you roll your eyes.

well, you suppose he's right in a sense... a smile creeps up your lips as you start chuckling softly.

"sure, we're god's messengers now then."

"that's right!"

he ruffles your hair with his other hand, a cocky smirk on his lips.

"so how do you want to start? shall we nuke them?"

"no!"

[cheeseceli]

Under the mistletoe

Pairing: Yang Jeongin × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: reader is lowkey oblivious but not really, that's it?

A/n: so this is my Christmas post 🙂‍↕️

Daily click

"Questions can be saved for later, just follow me" with that, you had absolutely no chance to talk back as he was already walking away, expecting you to actually follow him.

You were at the boys' Christmas party, celebrating the holiday with your closest friends - including Jeongin - but this specific person seemed to have other plans. Ever since he laid his eyes on you, he had been trying to get you to talk to him alone and, preferably, outside. Now, he was succeeding.

"What are we going to do on the balcony?" you asked, trying to keep up with his pace "It's freezing out there."

"I said no questions for now. Just trust me, okay?"

Once again you weren't able to respond, as he was already opening the door for you: "after you."

And so you did. Outside, it was in fact cold, snow slowly falling down. When you looked at Jeongin you expected to see him either shivering because of the weather or with a mischievous grin, that would explain the reason as to why you're far from the party. However, you notice him nervous.

That's odd.

"Jeongin? Are you okay?"

He seems to be lost in thought, his gaze nowhere near where you were, looking up instead.

"Yeah, yeah." Basically a synonym to no.

"Are we here for a reason...? You seem to be a little-"

"Oh yes, actually" he replied rather quickly, walking to the spot he was looking at before "Come here, there's something I want to show you."

You followed his lead, getting closer to the view. Though he wasn't looking ahead, so you didn't know if that was what he truly wanted to show you, you couldn't help but be awestruck. You had seen that scenario a few times before, every time you visited the boys' dorm, but never had it felt so magical.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?" You slowly look at him, your eyes not wanting to leave the beautiful sight ahead of you "it's beautiful."

"I mean, that as well." He looked up quickly, and you almost didn't realise this small gesture "but there was this other thing..."

As his voice died out, you looked above only to finally notice what this all was about:

"The mistletoe" you smiled. He was waiting for you to see it. You look at him, his eyes not exactly meeting yours just yet "What? You brought me here and aren't even going to kiss me?"

With this last statement he finally looked at you, a bit of excitement and hope shining on his eyes. Your smile didn't seem to falter anytime soon, as it was growing even more with his reaction.

"Can I?" he quietly said, afraid of doing anything that could ruin the moment.

You smile, barely believing it. You had been waiting ages for something like this: any opportunity, any moment that would give you the chance of becoming something more with Jeongin. And then he, during the holiday season, simply makes a whole plan to give you that chance.

It was adorable, to be honest. How he was so determined to bring you under the mistletoe, but still let you silently know that whatever you wanna do from now on is up to you. He's letting you choose. And no matter when, either on Christmas or on any other normal day, you would always choose him. And so you did:

"We cannot break a tradition, can we?"

Masterlist I you'll probably like: Christmas with skz

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the member actually is. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan (couldn't tag in bold)

Divider by: @enchanthings-a | Images 1, 2 and 3

[wonton4rang]

pairing: bnd legal line x reader.

warnings: smut, 18+

mtl (most to least) in bnd to be sub/ dom. this will have two perspectives, daily life and intimacy.

sungho;

intimacy: he will definitely be a service dom, i don't make the rules!! he would treat you like a princess, with so much love and affection that you even get worried that if you ever break up you are going to be so empty and sad :( he would fuck you slowly yet deep, whispering love words in your ear before biting on it softly, everything being so personal and romantic that you would just feel that warm fuzzy feeling that would bring your orgasm after he tells you how good you are for him and his thrusts get sloppy before he comes crashing down.

daily life: idek how to put it but he'll be a mature simp??? like you are the only one in his eyes, he would blush and giggle whenever you said something to him or touched his hands with so much adoration, but he would also be very mature and you both will have your own space and serious conversations going on. so he's kinda of a sub.

jaehyun;

intimacy: a sub 99.99% of the times, he's so soft and subby that's actually crazy, he would love you to handle him and tell him how good he is. but beware of that 00.01% because the day he comes with the switch on and his dom side comes forward?? you are fucked up (quite literally) because he's unstoppable and his energy would show up while he fucks the shit out of you.

daily life: honestly i see him as a dom in the daily life, he would want to take care of things for you, guide you and teach you stuff, hold your hand and kiss it better when you are feeling nervous. he is such a good boyfriend for you.

riwoo;

intimacy: definitely a soft dom, the only reason he's a "dom" is because he's the one fucking you and sometimes he actually takes the lead. sex with riwoo will mostly be you riding him while you guys kissed or him fucking you from behind while you spooned, but he will always be so caring a lovely, only caring about how you're feeling even when he's getting lost himself and finishes abruptly.

daily life: he's just a submissive person overall, he would just nod and say yes to anything you propose, he won't go against you unless is a joke and honestly you guys have similar tastes so he doesn't really has a reason to be anything else but a subby pretty boyfie <3

taesan:

intimacy: i think it depends. taesan seems to me like a very romantic person, really into a serious relationship kinda boy, so i believe he would be a dom when needy and a soft dom when you need it. he would look over for you but also take care of himself sometimes, always reassuring you of how much he loved you.

daily life: a SUB. i'm so sorry but he is such a submissive boyfriend fr fr, he would hold your hand and only look at you, his straight face making him look like the bitchiest mf but shattering when you said something and he just sweetly laughed. i know he's a boy that loves to joke around and he will!! but his eyes will look for yours with everything he says, waiting for your reaction with anticipation and nerves eating him alive.

leehan:

intimacy: a dom 99% of the time. he would grab your hair, choke you, fuck you so hard you gotta cover your mouth to not alert the neighbours, he would mess you up a thousand times and still comeback for more. but that 1% is just him being a softie for you, just smiling and letting you do whatever you want with him, he wouldn't mind you doing whatever the fuck you wanted. he just loves you so much.

daily life: it's 50,50 for me, he would like to have control over some things but i also think he would pass the responsibilities over to you most of the time, just agreeing with anything that you decide.

so overall here's my MTL rank:

DOM.

leehan.

taesan.

sungho.

riwoo.

jaehyun.

SUB.

[iruiji]

SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.

If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).

This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there were 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).

(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.

Context dropped, onto the short HCs.

• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.

• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)

• Xudong was fuming, lmao.

"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"

• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.

• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.

• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄

• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.

• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.

• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.

"Thief!"

The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."

"But you still tried to!"

"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."

Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"

"But-"

This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"

That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.

"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.

"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"

Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.

• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).

• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.

Oh.

You're in SAGAU?

Shit.

"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."

Double shit.

• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.

"I like masks."

Fair enough, they suppose.

• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?

"Ara, and who is this?"

Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.

"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."

She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"

Dont act suspicious. Don't act suspicious.

"..yo."

Nice.

• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:

Yae Miko;

Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);

Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);

Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;

Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).

• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.

• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!

• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.

"Your Grace..?"

Triple shit.

😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?

[strangersteddierthings]

Daily Ficlet

I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is coffee smell.

-

Eddie wakes to the smell of coffee.

That's not unusual for him. Wayne drinks coffee like water, has it both to wake up and go to bed. It's just that, usually, the coffee smell is fainter, having to make its way from the kitchen and through the door to his bedroom.

Did he leave the door open last night? That'd have been a bad idea, given what Steve and he got up to-

Oh. Oh shit! Steve and he-

Eddie cracks his eyes open finally. He's where he usually is when he wakes up; on the side of the bed closest to the door, on his stomach, arm hanging off the bed and face turned towards the door. The door, which is open, and Eddie knows he closed it because he remembers Steve pinning him against it as soon as Eddie had turned back around. Steve crowding into his space, one hand braced on the door beside Eddie's head, the other curling possessively on Eddie's hip. Steve dipping his head to nibble at his shoulder, before kissing and nibbling his way up Eddie's neck, jaw line, capturing Eddie's bottom lip between his teeth before kissing him properly, like Eddie has been wanting him to do since- well, forever probably.

He does a quick scan of the room, but Steve's shirt isn't on the floor by the door where Eddie had ripped it off him. And that. It's fine. Eddie's used to not getting the guy at the end of the story. There were no expectations, they didn't- well, there were promises whispered, but that's just. It's just the kind of words that slip out when wrapped up in the heat of the moment, yeah?

("God, you're so beautiful, Stevie. Beautiful and perfect for me." "Yes, yes, perfect for you. Wanna be. Wanna be perfect for you. Just you. Yours." "Mine. Just mine. You're mine, and I'm yours." "Yes yes yes yes!")

Just words said in the dark of night. Even if Eddie wants them to be real now. Wants to be Steve's and wants Steve to be his. If he just lays here, he can pretend a bit more. He can pretend that Steve's still asleep on the other side of the bed. That the door is open for any other reason than Steve slipping out while Eddie slept.

His other arm, the one trapped beneath him, is starting to get pins and needles, though, so he has to move. He heaves a sigh and digs his elbow into the mattress, using it as leverage to roll onto his back and away from the edge of the bed and-

"You awake babe?"

Eddie doesn't yelp. He'll deny it happening to the end of his days, but he wasn't expecting to hear a voice. Wasn't expecting- "Stevie."

"That's me," Steve says with a laugh. Steve, who has, apparently this whole time, been sitting up on the other side of the bed, Eddie's well-loved copy of The Hobbit in his hands, his shirt tragically back on. He tosses it softly towards the foot of the bed before shifting to drape himself across Eddie, propping himself up with an elbow near Eddie's head. Steve's other hand comes up to brush the hair from Eddie's face before trailing down his neck, across his shoulder, and down his whole arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie's hand a light squeeze that he reciprocates on instinct. It's the right thing to do, Eddie decides, because the smile the spreads across Steve's face is soft and so fond before disappearing from view because Steve lowers himself down to press sweet and gentle kisses to Eddie's lips, once, twice, thrice, before peppering kisses to every inch of Eddie's face he can. Eddie is expecting morning breath, but Steve smells of coffee.

A smile spreads across Eddie's own lips, and laughter follows, because this is so sweet, so fond, makes him feel so safe and loved that the joy Eddie feels has to break free from his body somehow. He chases Steve's mouth down again to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth to chase the coffee taste. The kisses turn lazy and eventually Steve pulls back, a dopey smile on his face that Eddie is sure is also on his own face. "Good morning."

"Good morning indeed," Eddie says, his thumb rubbing softly against Steve's where they're still holding hands. "Why're you wearing your shirt?"

Steve gives a one shoulder shrug. "Didn't think Wayne would appreciate the view as much as you do."

Eddie blinks up at him. "Wayne's up?"

"He made the coffee that lured me from your bed," Steve says, and his tone is teasing but there's something in his eyes, in the way Eddie feels him tense just the slightest that makes Eddie think 'Oh!' again.

Eddie had been so sure early, that Steve would rather slink away before Eddie woke, but he thinks Steve has the fear of being kicked out now that he's awake. Of having overstayed his welcome, or pushed at a boundary he didn't know Eddie set. Can't have him thinking that. "Well, you're probably right, he wouldn't enjoy the view as much as I. You let me know if that ever changes. I'll not have an old man trying to steal my boyfriend."

That's the right thing to say, Eddie knows immediately. Steve settles completely against him in a way Eddie hadn't known was possible. It's not that Steve gets heavier as he lays across him more, but Eddie feels him press more into him somehow. Clutches tighter at their joined hands and leans back down to rubs his nose against Eddie's cheek. "Worry not, babe. There's only one Munson I want to call boyfriend."

And that. Well. How is Eddie supposed to not kiss Steve -his boyfriend- silly after that?

[aewon]

want you so

heeseung x f! reader genre: fluff warnings: none wc: 902

Heeseung kept his eyes on you as you walked through the courtyard.

“Stare any longer, and your eyes are gonna fall out,” Jay says, munching on his Cheetos.

“I can't help it,” he replies, “she's just too beautiful.”

“You tell us daily, we get it,” Riki groans.

They just don't understand. To Heeseung, you're like a breath of fresh air. He loves everything about you. The way you smile, the way you laugh, how your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating on something.

Heeseung finds himself so infatuated, so in love with you.

When you call his name, it's like an angel is singing, and all you're doing is asking for a pencil.

He remembers when he first met you at freshman orientation. He was blown away.

Now, a year later, he still feels the same every time he sees you or when you approach him.

“I still don't get why you haven't confessed to her yet,” Sunoo says, and Heeseung finally takes his attention off you.

“I don't think she likes me like that,” he shrugs, “I’m okay with just admiring her from afar.”

His friends sigh, shaking their heads at his hopelessness.

“We should do something fun this weekend,” Sunghoon says, playing with his pencil in boredom.

“The fair is in town. What if we go?”Jungwon suggests.

Everyone looks at each other, silently agreeing.

On Saturday, Heeseung finds himself at the food stand, getting a corn dog.

Jake taps his shoulder, “Dude, look who’s here!”

He turns in the direction Jake is pointing to, eyes widening as they immediately find you.

“This could be your chance to talk to her!” Jake says eagerly.

All the boys are nudging him forward as he digs his heels into the ground.

“I don't think I can,” he says, voice whiny.

Protests come from behind him, “Come on!”

“Just do it!”

“What have you got to lose!”

“My dignity!” He argues, but they're getting closer to you.

Riki delivers a hard push, and before he knows it, he's falling right into you.

The boys quickly disperse, abandoning Heeseung and acting like they were never there.

Your frown soon becomes a smile as you recognize him, “Heeseung!”

“Hey, sorry about that. My friends were pushing me to go on this ride.”

You wave it off, “It’s okay! I'm glad to see you.”

You're glad to see him? Oh god, he can feel his heart beating faster.

“My friends kinda abandoned me. Maybe you could keep me company?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

This is your chance; don't slip up! He thinks to himself.

“I'd love to keep you company,” he says, giving you a smile of his own.

Suddenly, he’s being dragged by you all across the fair.

You take him to every game, and he does his best to impress you, ultimately failing.

“These games are rigged, you know?” He says as you laugh.

“Totally.”

When you pull him to the basketball game, he knows this is his chance. He has to do good.

And by god’s grace, he makes every basket, earning the top prize.

“What do you want?” He asks you, giggling on the inside when you look at him with wide eyes.

“You're letting me choose?”

“Of course, it's for you!”

You end up choosing the deer plushie.

“It reminds me of you. It has big, beautiful eyes.”

You say it casually, but Heeseung is stunned.

Big, beautiful eyes? Reminds you of him?

You purposefully chose a plushie that reminds you of him.

Before he can say something, you're pulling him in another direction.

When he looks up, he sees the love boat sign and almost collapses.

When it's your turn, he gets into the boat wordlessly.

He gulps as it starts moving, trailing into darkness.

It's quiet for a minute before you turn to him, speaking up.

“I wanted to bring you here for a reason,” you say.

Heeseung can feel himself start to sweat. Is it getting hotter?

“What is it?” he answers.

Your hand raises to cup his cheek, turning him to face you.

“I've liked you for a while now, Heeseung. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was nervous. You don't know the effect you have on me. It’s like I can't think when you're around because my mind is just filled with thoughts of you: your smile, your laugh, your eyes. God, I love your eyes. You're so kind and gentle. I just want you so badly.”

Heeseung doesn't think he was breathing the moment you cupped his cheek, but he certainly wasn't breathing now, listening to your confession.

He doesn't know what to say or how to respond.

So he doesn't.

He surges forward, capturing your lips.

Your lips are soft and taste like strawberries.

You kiss back, sighing softly into the kiss.

Your lips move in unison, gentle but passionate.

It feels like it’s been hours when you eventually pull apart.

“You don't know how infatuated I've been with you since the day we met. You're everything to me, Y/N.”

You giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

“You're mine now,” you say slyly, making Heeseung blush.

When the ride finally ends, you and Heeseung walk out hand in hand.

As they watch you, your friends, along with his, all high-five each other.

“Thank god that worked out,” Jay says, “watching them pine for each other was killing me.”

t/n: just a little something to put out there!

[xxhispieceofheavenxx]

can i pls request remus being jealous and (non-toxically lol) possessive when seeing reader with someone else 🫣

Hello!!! I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, this week has been completely out of control for some reason. But here it is! I hope you enjoy! Thank you for requesting. My ask box is open.

Wc: 1k

Cw: It's just fluff, a few swear words

He was already having a bad day, the full moon looming close, only two days away. His day started at 5:30, with James throwing around his quidditch equipment, claiming he was late for his daily training. Then when he finally managed to fall back asleep, he didn't hear his alarm go off, making him late for potions, his least favourite subject. Thankfully Slughorn didn't give him a hard time, unlike Snape, who had made fun of his brewing abilities. And no matter how much Lily had helped him to finish and pass the assignment, his mood hadn't improved; it actually soured, thinking he was useless at potions kept distracting him from his other classes. So when lunchtime came, he was in an even worst mood than before.

Remus sits next to Sirius, who is excitedly talking with James, Marlene and Peter. He pinches his nose, feeling a headache growing at his temples. His eyes open to see his girlfriend talking with Adam, a Ravenclaw he is sure has had a crush on the sweet girl since first year. His brow furrows as he watches the boy touch her arm in what appears to be more than a friendly gesture.

He stands up, ready to stomp his way over there and give the blonde boy a piece of his mind. Before he can take a step, James' voice interrupts him.

"Where are you going, Moony?"

The curly-haired boy turns around to see where his friend's eyes were directed.

"Moons," James turns back to him "You're going to be upset if you go over there and cause a scene."

"No, I'm not."

"The full moon is in two days." James gives him a knowing look that makes him sit back down. Remus knows that in the days before the full moon, he becomes irritable and explosive when pushed.

"I hate that guy." His eyes roll as an unpleasant look forms on his face. "He is always all over her, and she is too fucking nice to tell him to sod off."

"I know." James' voice is gentle in understanding. "If it makes you feel better, I'll knock off his broom next week when we play against Ravenclaw." A mischievous smile forms on his face.

Remus can't help his own smile at his friend's attempt at making him feel better; and at the image of Adam falling off his broom too.

"Sure, just make it look like an accident."

"I'm the best at making things seem like accidents." The boy gives him a wink before he takes a sip of his juice.

His eyes divert back to the pair, who are still talking by the entrance of the Great Hall. Remus' patience seems to wear out even faster when he sees the stiffness of her body. She's still smiling, but as time goes on, it seems more forced; she keeps moving her body to the Gryffindor table, clearly trying to end the conversation. But as the blonde keeps talking, she returns to her previous place just to do this awkward dance again. Deciding he's had enough, Remus gets up and stomps to them.

"Hey, love." His voice is sweet, unlike his eyes that send a murderous glance to Adam.

"Remus!" She turns to him, a smile plastered on her face. She opens her arms and hugs his neck, pulling him down to her height. "Get me out of here." She whispers in his ear.

Remus breaks the hug and smiles down at her as he tucks a rouge strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes, hello, Remus." Says Adam through tight lips.

"Yes. Hi. I'm going to take my girlfriend away now, goodbye." He quickly turns on his heels, pulling her with him.

"Remus! That was rude!" She chastises him in a low voice when they are far away from the boy who is standing in his spot, mouth agape.

"I don't care." He grunts. "Come on, I know you're hungry. I saved you a spot." He turns to her with a smile.

With a sigh and shake of her head, they arrive at the table. Remus pulls out her chair so she can sit and then takes his own sit.

"Stop being cute, I'm trying to be upset with you."

"I'm not being cute, I'm just trying to take care of you." He grabs her hand and kisses it, making her grunt and hide her face with her other hand.

"This is being cute, Lupin." Accusing eyes stare at him. "You were rude to Adam."

"The bastard was making you uncomfortable."

"He wasn't making me uncomfortable."

"He wasn't letting you leave." He says in a knowing voice.

"Okay, he wasn't." She concedes. "But, he was just being friendly." Her statement is met with a snort and a roll of Remus' eyes. "You're just jealous."

"I am." He says easily as he leans on her shoulder, letting his nose tangle in her hair. "You'd be jealous too if you had the most amazing woman all to yourself." She giggles, making him smile.

"I have the most amazing guy, though." Her hand finds the back of his head.

"I'm sorry I was mean, I get possessive sometimes." His soft voice reaches her ears.

"I like how possessive you are, but maybe next time be a little bit nicer." He takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent, allowing it to calm him.

"I'll try when it's not so close to the full moon." He pulls back just enough to kiss her lips.

"Are you guys going to eat each other instead of the food, or what?" Sirius' voice makes them pull apart.

"Shut up, pads. They're having a moment." James interrupts his teasing, making her laugh. Everything seems to be better now, maybe he just needed her to turn his bad day good.

[hanafubukki]

Yuu being a little afraid of being pregnant, but the world of twisted wonderland has much better healthcare and overall treats children better

They're not getting any younger and neither is Lilia, so why not have a baby before they become too old to engage and raise them?

It doesn't take long, between the prescribed gummies from Riddle (their family doctor and old friend) and Lilia's ahem- enthusiasm, they start showing signs 2 months after they popped the question to Lilia

They remember how Lilia literally flew with joy when they told him they're ready. Of course after the initial joy they started discussing how they will go on about this, how Yuu will probably need to go on a vitamin rich diet, start doing pregnant yoga and require daily massages the farther along they get.

However Yuu's pregnancy seems to get harder everyday. A fact so alarming that they bring it up at their next checkup

"well? How's everything?" Lilia asked tentatively

"weeellll...." Riddle began with a sigh as he discarded the gloves " I have some good news and some.... neutral news?"

"neutral news?"

"I'll start with the good news!" He quickly added

"Good news is the baby's healthy! The growth rate is normal and they seem to be doing well"

"and the neutral news???"

Riddle but his bottom lip wincing "Neutral news is... The babies are healthy. Plural. There's 3 in there."

"...what"

Yuu and Lilia's faces were complete opposites. Moving at the same time, Yuu's face pulled into a horrified open mouth look while Lilia couldn't hide his grin. He fixed his expression once he noticed Yuu's horror.

"Luckily, we have magic here that'll make your labour be as easy as blinking, however you'll need to eat more. The reason why you've been exhausted is because you were only eating on account of one baby, sometimes if you're not consciously aware of the fact you're pregnant the body will not experience any additional cravings. In your case, you weren't aware just how pregnant you are"

"I.... How did this even happen- I mean what are the chances????"

"are we happy with this?" Riddle asked, looking only at Yuu with a gaze that told them they're his only priority

Yuu held eye contact and thought about it.

"...Yes. It'll be difficult but I want this"

Riddle smiled at both Yuu and Lilia. After everything, they deserved this.

"Very well then! I advise investing in a pump so that can lessen your load when the babies are born. If you need an extra fridge or an electric kettle please don't hesitate to ask, I know a guy" he says with a wink

Lilia smiled, trying to tone down his excitement "we appreciate your help Dr. Rosehearts"

Riddle scoffs "Oh please we go way back. Consider this my personal 'thank you' for helping me out back then, Yuu"

As they walked from the clinic to the nearest portal Yuu could practically feel the joy radiating from their husband. It was impressive how he managed to keep a hold on them and help them walk rather than outright carrying them and flying away

They decided to break the ice "soooo?"

They hear him him take a deep breath before scream-laughing. It honestly startled them

"I GOT A 3 FOR 1 DEAL!" of course this is how he chose to express his joy

Yuu groaned " anymore of this and I'm telling grim you hid his tuna away"

"aww so mean~ can't an old man be happy?"

"you're a particularly loud old man, and I too am old with a terrible headache so have some sympathy, sir!"

"ah anything goes for my cranky old spouse"

He peppered Yuu's face with kisses before carrying them through the portal

It's a good thing they preemptively bought multiple baby clothes (mostly because Yuu was scared of leaving the baby and Lilia in the kitchen together would lead to unsalvageable tatters)

Bonus:

"Well at least now Silver, Malleus and Sebek won't need to fight about being the favourite older brother"

"let's not kid ourselves batsy, they will still engage in petty competition"

"but we did kid ourselves.... 3 times kfufufu"

"no more cuddles for a week"

"wait no-"

Hello Anonie 🌷💞💚

THERE WAS 3!!! 😆😂 not only was lilia enthusiastic but so was his seed it seems omg 😆

Which makes sense because bats do tend to have more than one at once.

Everyone gets a baby! One for brother mal, one for brother sil, and one for uncle sebek. 🥳🥳

You get a baby and you get a baby and you and you 🤣

Riddle is so sweeettt 😭😭💞💞 I’m so happy. He’s attentive.🥺🥹

…”3 for 1 deal”!!!!! LMFAOO I’m crying 😂

This was adorable. 💚

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“So, are you just going to stare at my pretty face all day, or…?” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and rolled with their eyes. It was embarrassing enough, the hero didn’t have to rub it in.

“Is that such a crime?”

The villain let out a humourless huff. Their anger was evident, their frustration obvious.

And the pain, god, sometimes the villain couldn’t even breathe. Getting out of bed was already hard enough but being forced to work under these conditions?

Of course, it could have been worse. As part of their rehabilitation, they didn't need to do much, their work wasn't even that demanding.

But with their injuries, every move seemed to be unbearable.

“Just fuck off.”

“I have some documents to sign for you. My boss insists.” The hero fished a folder out of their bag and, unfortunately, they had indeed more documents. The villain found it quite unbelievable how much they had to sign. Although they knew it wasn't clever not to read over all of the pages carefully, they were too tired to do so.

They didn't really care that much either.

“Or better known as your excuse for visiting me,” the villain joked. Their side started to hurt again, a pain so cruel and prominent that they had to remind themselves to take everything slow.

It was actual hell. Not being able to do anything. Not being able to move freely. Although the doctor had assured them they were healing and doing well, the villain felt everything but fine. It had been over three weeks now and they were still waking up in the middle of the night. Pain robbed their sleep and pain robbed their mobility. They were impatient, they were annoyed.

The interrogation room was very familiar to the villain by now. Every week, they got to meet the hero. Either documents or lectures — whatever topic the hero chose, it was always a long conversation the villain’s body couldn’t manage towards the end.

However, they never said anything. The hero's visits were better than work. They were the best part of the entire week.

“I don’t need excuses to visit you,” the hero said, winking. They pushed the document towards the villain. “Sign here.”

The villain sighed. They didn’t even look at the paper.

“Can you ask them to increase my medication again at least?” the villain asked softly. They took in a deep breath and signed the document on the last page, their pen following their shaking hand's command as quickly as possible.

"I'm sorry, you're already on the highest dose possible."

"Oh." The villain put down the pen and stared at their nemesis. Their nemesis who had captured them. Who had put them in this situation in the first place. They seemed to be recovering just fine. They seemed to be fit and healthy, seemed to be in the prime of their life. Attractive and kind - perfection had carved itself through the hero. "...do you think the people here are honest? The nurses and the doctors, I mean?"

"Some of the best people in the country are working here," the hero said. "That includes medical staff."

"Okay." The villain's voice was quiet. They didn't understand the logistics behind a place like this, they didn't understand anything about the things the hero gave them to sign. "Did you know they're experimenting on me?"

"They take samples from your tissue or blood to look at in the lab. Seriously. You're not in any danger." The hero smiled sweetly and scratched the back of their neck. "I check the reports regularly and I talk to your doctor on a daily basis. It's their priority to help you."

"Why?"

"Well, you're a victim, are you not? We don't know much about the supervillain and their powers, so helping you recover could help us get more information on them. And considering your past, we have to...observe you in a special place like this." The hero leaned over the table to get to the document. Their fingertips touched the villain's knuckles by accident. "That's only one reason, of course. Most importantly, you were beaten to death and needed help."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Half your organs were hanging out of you when I found you," the hero said. Their voice was quieter now, maybe lost in their thoughts even. "I donated a kidney for you."

"You can be so romantic," the villain said. The sarcasm didn't really come across and the villain knew how half-hearted their jokes had become. It wasn't like they weren't grateful, it was just difficult to be saved and have a life when they had accepted their outcome a while ago. That day, they had accepted that they wouldn't survive. They had made their peace with it and then the hero had saved them.

And now, the villain had to live with this horrible pain.

With the nightmares and the fear. They had become a stranger in their own body. It didn't feel like they had control over themselves anymore. Although the hero was right, they couldn't help but feel like a lab rat.

"The point is...you're the only person who has survived them and if they find out you're alive..."

"A facility like this won't hold them back," the villain said. "It would be a minor inconvenience."

"I know, that's why-" the hero held up the document "-you just signed a request for special protection. With me being your caretaker."

Again, that sweet smile spread across their face but the villain didn't really know what that meant. Their poor heart skipped a few beats.

"Are you saying you'll be staying here?" The villain's neck started to heat up. Wasn't this a bit too much? Had they asked for too much? With the medication and the doctors...wasn't this too much effort for the hero to put in?

"I am saying you're coming with me if this gets approved. Which it will."

"Like, to your house?"

"Yes, darling." The hero leaned back in their chair and took in a deep breath. "I've been working on this ever since I found you. I knew the agency wouldn't let you recover in a prison that easily. I argued that you're a victim and a source of information. That brought you here. But still, they made you work in here which I argued to be counterproductive. The law department is pretty annoyed by me."

"I...I'm not sure what to say," the villain said. Their head was reeling. Maybe everything would be a little easier. Maybe waking up would be easier. Were they actually dreaming? They could be out of here soon?

"You don't have to say anything." The hero stood up and walked up to them. Once they were closer to the villain, they sat down on the table, looking down at them. "I just need you to rest."

"You didn't have to do this," the villain said. Their voice was shaking. "You didn't have to save me again."

"I can't help it. By the way, we have matching scars, did you notice that? I can't just leave you in here."

"You suck," the villain said, but there were tears in their eyes. The relief they felt was indescribable. This place was alright. The people were alright. But they weren't the hero. They weren't comforting. With their chair, they moved closer towards them. "You're so horrible."

They leaned their head against the hero's arm, too tired and overwhelmed to hold up the weight of their head anymore. Quickly, the hero went through their hair with their fingers, holding their jaw in their hands and guiding them to lay their head on their lap.

"Oh, honey..." They played with the villain's hair and scratched their scalp softly. Their fingers went over the villain's face, carefully avoiding their bruises. "I promise I will take care of you."

They stayed like this until visiting hours were over.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄-(𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭), part 2!

Words:21003: Contains Sunday leaks of joining.

Genre: Smut

Summary: After that incident, you and sunday were in love, You became more caring about yourself and decided to make him something to heal his wings  but he accidently dropped it. and you locked yourself to make one again. being sad that he was the reason he decided to ask the Astral express to gift you something in the end, the aphrodisiac spills again, and then you share your past with him. He wants to make you celebrate this day again so, with the help of march 7th! he and you were now husband and bride!

( Reader is a female) Reader's clothing is inspired from Mobius. Reader is a scientist!

In middle of the chapter, Smut is there. So please don't read if you don't like stuff like smut!

CW: Mentions of Hickey, Aphrodisiac usage (Accident), Use of nickname (Sunday calls y/n as Angel), Switch Sunday, Vanilla.

Part 2 of the cupid found in stars!

Over the next few weeks, the bond between you and Sunday deepened. The initial shyness and uncertainty gave way to a comfortable routine, where affection became a natural part of your daily life. You found yourself often reaching out to him, whether it was a quick hug in passing or a gentle touch as you both sat together. Sunday, in turn, seemed to grow more confident, his wings frequently brushing against you in a tender caress that made your heart flutter.

Your research continued, and you found yourself more focused and energized than ever. The hours spent with Sunday seemed to infuse you with a new sense of purpose. Whenever you were engrossed in your work, Sunday would quietly join you, his presence a comforting reminder that you weren't alone. He would sometimes rest his head on your shoulder, his wings lightly trailing across your skin, making you feel cherished and supported.

As the two of you sat on the couch, Sunday leaned closer, his wings wrapping around your face like a protective cocoon. "I've noticed you're looking healthier these days," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm glad you're taking care of yourself."

You smiled, leaning into him. "I think it's because of you. You've made everything better."

Sunday blushed, but his eyes shone with happiness. "I'm just glad I can be here for you," he said softly. "You make me feel like I have a purpose."

You turned to face him, your hand gently tracing the outline of his jaw. "You do, Sunday. You mean so much to me." Your voice was tender, full of the affection that had grown between you over these weeks.

His wings fluttered slightly, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "I want to make you happy, always," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You felt a surge of emotion and tightened your embrace, feeling safe and content in his arms. "You already do," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

Tho, you sleep a lot. Sunday always wakes you up. It's like a daily task now for him.

It was lunchtime, You had told Sunday, You would skip breakfast as Lunch.

"Where are you going, Sunday?" the black-haired man asked the blue-haired guy.

"Oh, Mr. Dan Heng! I'm going to wake up Y/n..."

"I see. She's being a sleepyhead, as usual. Good luck waking her up," he said, flashing a smile that was as innocent and bright as ever before walking away. He knew all too well the struggle of getting her out of bed.

Sunday made his way to her room, which was always messy, but he didn't mind tidying up for you.

"Y/n...?"

He saw a distinctive lump beneath the sheets in the chic four-poster bed.

You're still sleeping..

It had been a while since you last woke up late. This time, though, he decided it was his turn to rouse you from your slumber.

The sheets were pulled tightly over your head, concealing your face. He could only hear the rhythmic sound of your deep, even breaths.

"Y/n, it's lunchtime. Time to wake up."

"Zzz..."

He knew just calling out wouldn't suffice. He had learned from experience. With a determined tug, he yanked the pristine white sheets away in one smooth motion.

"Good day, Y/n!"

"Wha?"

"You're sleeping half-naked again!?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Hm...?" Your sleepy eyes blinked open as you reached for his arm.

"Careful..." He toppled beside you, finding himself instantly pinned under you.

"I'll leave you to your rest then," he started to say, but you clung to him.

"You don't have to—*yawns*—"

"Y/n..." His hand gently touched your cheek, and before you could fully wake, he leaned in and kissed you deeply. The kiss was warm, filled with the lingering sweetness of sleep. Your heart raced with every press of his lips, until he finally pulled back with a soft, lingering smooch.

"Are you still half-asleep, Y/n?" he teased, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"No, I was awakened by such a romantic kiss, wasn't I?"

"Y/n..." His fingers cupped the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His soft hair brushed against your collarbone. You took a deep breath, savoring his scent.

"You smell sweet. What is it Sunday?" you asked, puzzled.

"Sweet? Oh, probably from the raspberry syrup I made this morning for pancakes. Miss March almost asked for ten. Luckily, I made a separate batch just for you."

"Pancakes, huh? That's nice... but..." Your eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief.

"Huh? You usually get ready quickly when there's dessert involved. What's going on?" He was caught off guard as you positioned yourself on top of him.

You wrapped your arms around him like a snake, your embrace firm and unyielding.

"I feel like... I want to eat you." Your voice was a low, seductive murmur, just as your lips began to place teasing kisses along his neck.

He reacted swiftly, pushing you back down. His hand roamed up to the hem of your nightie, teasing your bare skin.

"Nghh...!" A soft moan escaped your lips, and a flush of warmth spread across your body.

"I like that voice..." His hand continued its journey upward, lightly cupping your breast.

"Hm, S-Sunday... not now," you stammered, realizing that if you didn't stop, neither of you would be leaving the bed.

Sensing your hesitation, he eased his touch and ruffled your hair affectionately.

"Sorry, got carried away. How impolite of me," he said with a playful yawn. You slowly moved away, letting out a huge yawn yourself.

"What a way to wake up..." You chuckled throatily, quickly throwing on some clothes and stretching.

"Ahh, I'm starved. Did you already eat lunch, Sunday?"

"No, not yet."

"All right then, let's go and eat together." He watched as you slipped out of bed and headed for the door..

Yes, You did love to tease and you never did anything you knew he wouldn't like.

That's his problem, You're nice you only want to do what he wants. But every now and then, your tendency to let that niceness win out was a bit frustrating.

In Sunday's heart he wishes you would just tell him what you really want. Because he has confidence that he would love you no matter what.

"Sunday? Why are you spacing out? I'll leave you behind."

"Ah, wait.." The pang of sadness in him inside vanished as he rushed after you.

Sunday followed you to the dining area, where the table was already cleared, save for a few stray crumbs from everyone's finished meals. A slight pout formed on your lips as you noticed the empty plates, your mood dipping at the realization that you had missed lunch.

Sunday hummed softly as he tied the apron around his waist, the fabric of the apron crisp and clean against his shirt. The kitchen was warm and filled with the sweet, comforting scent of pancakes being made. As he poured the batter onto the hot griddle, the sizzle was music to his ears.

You sat at the table, yawning and stretching your arms above your head. Everyone else had already finished eating, and you felt a pang of guilt at the realization. You were used to being the last one up, your erratic sleep schedule as a scientist often leaving you out of sync with the rest of the household. But since Sunday had come into your life, things had started to change. He always made sure you had something warm to eat, no matter how late you got up.

As you watched him expertly flip the pancakes, a wave of gloom washed over you. You stood up quietly and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. You pressed your face into his back, feeling the warmth of his body through the apron.

"I'm not clingy," you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Sunday chuckled softly, his hands never pausing in their work. "I never said you were."

You tightened your hold on him, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away. His presence was so soothing, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for him. He was always there, looking out for you, making sure you were cared for, even when you were too caught up in your work to take care of yourself.

He flipped the last pancake onto the plate and turned off the stove. Then, he turned around in your embrace, gently holding you by the shoulders.

"These pancakes are just for you," he said, his voice warm and full of affection. "I made them with extra syrup, just the way you like them."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "Thank you, Sunday"

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "You don't need to thank me, Y/n. Taking care of you makes me happy."

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the pancakes. Sunday's love was a gentle, constant presence in your life, and you couldn't imagine a day without it.

As you sat down to eat, Sunday joined you at the table, watching with satisfaction as you took the first bite. The sweetness of the syrup mixed with the softness of the pancakes, and you couldn't help but let out a small, contented sigh.

"Perfect, as always," you said, smiling up at him.

Sunday grinned, leaning back in his chair. "I aim to please."

You finished the last bite of your pancakes, you felt Sunday's gaze lingering on you. You looked up, meeting his warm, brown eyes, and before you could say anything, he leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were gentle against yours, and you could feel the love and care in his every movement.

You smiled into the kiss, your heart fluttering at the unexpected affection. When he pulled back, you kept your gaze locked on his, a playful gleam in your eyes. Without a word, you leaned in and kissed him again, this time more deeply, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

When you finally pulled away, you could see the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. It was a moment of pure, unspoken connection, where words weren't necessary to convey what you both felt.

But then, a thought crossed your mind, and your smile grew even brighter. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid, holding it out to him.

"I've been working on something," you said, your voice filled with excitement. "A new method to try and heal your clipped wings. It's experimental, but I think it could work. We can test it when we reach the next planet."

Sunday stared at the vial in your hand, his eyes widening in surprise. He slowly reached out and took it, his fingers brushing against yours. There was a moment of silence as he looked at the vial, his expression a mixture of amazement and something else—something softer, more tender.

"You're always thinking of others," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "You're so kind, Y/n. I wish people could see that."

His words made your heart ache a little, but before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a slow, deliberate passion. His lips moved against yours with a gentleness that made your heart melt, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in that kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes, his expression serious but full of love.

"I don't mind being a flightless bird," he whispered, his voice soft but firm. "As long as you're here with me, I have everything I need."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Sunday's words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the worries and fears that sometimes crept into your mind.

You reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs gently brushing against his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere, Sunday," you whispered back, your voice filled with all the love you felt for him. "I'm here, and I always will be."

He smiled at that, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in again, kissing you softly, and you could feel the promise in that kiss—the promise of a future together, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Sunday..." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I'll always be here, no matter what."

He held you tightly, his embrace firm and reassuring. 

The vial slipped from Sunday's hand, hitting the floor with a delicate clink. Both of you froze, your hearts skipping a beat as the shimmering liquid inside spilled out onto the tiles, slowly pooling at your feet.

Sunday's eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat. "Oh no... Y/n, I—" he stammered, his voice full of panic as he pulled away from you.

"Oh no..." you whispered, your eyes widening in panic. "No, no, no...!"

"I-I'm so sorry," you blurted out, your voice trembling as you knelt down, desperately trying to salvage what little remained. But it was too late—the precious liquid was already seeping into the cracks between the tiles, disappearing before your eyes.

Sunday dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering uselessly over the mess. "I didn't mean to... I was just... I'm so sorry, Y/n," he repeated, his voice thick with regret. He reached out to you, but you were already standing, your hands shaking as you clutched the now-empty vial.

"No, no, it's okay," you said quickly, though your voice wavered. You forced a smile, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I can... I can make more. I'll just... I'll work on something new. Don't worry about it."

You could see the anguish in Sunday's eyes, his guilt weighing heavily on him, but you couldn't bear to let him see how much this really hurt. You leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, your lips barely brushing his skin before you pulled away.

"I'll figure it out, I promise," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I just... I need to get started right away."

Before he could say anything, you turned and hurried out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. As you ran down the hallway, the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, blurring your vision. You knew Sunday didn't mean to drop the vial, but the disappointment and frustration were overwhelming.

You could  still feel the warmth of Sunday's cheek against your lips, the lingering taste of his kiss. But all you could focus on was the overwhelming need to fix what had gone wrong.

Sunday watched you go, a mix of concern and sadness in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to reassure you that it wasn't your fault, that he didn't care about the vial. But you were already gone, leaving him alone in the quiet kitchen.

He sighed softly, glancing down at the broken glass on the floor. "Y/n... you're too hard on yourself," he murmured to the empty room.

Sunday sat on the floor, his heart still racing from the sudden mishap. The shimmering liquid from the broken vial seemed to mock him, a stark reminder of the hope that had just slipped through his fingers. He reached out, almost mechanically, to clean up the mess, his hands moving on their own as he tried to erase any trace of the accident.

With a deep sigh, he grabbed a towel from the counter and began carefully cleaning up the shimmering liquid. Each swipe of the towel felt like a reminder of his mistake, the regret gnawing at him. Once he had cleaned up the last of the spill, he sat back on his heels, staring at the empty spot on the floor.

His thoughts kept drifting to you—how you'd run off so quickly, locking yourself away in your lab. He knew you were upset, but you'd tried so hard to hide it from him. The idea that you were shouldering the burden alone didn't sit right with him.

He stood up, his heart heavy as he glanced toward the hallway leading to your lab. You had rushed off so quickly, clearly upset despite your brave face. Sunday's chest tightened with worry. You were always so strong, always pushing yourself for others, and he knew how much this setback would weigh on you.

Without another thought, he made his way to your lab, his steps quiet as he approached the closed door. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He knew how you were when you were focused—locked away in your own world, shutting everything else out. But he couldn't just leave you alone, not when he knew you were hurting.

Gently, he knocked on the door, his voice soft as he called out, "Y/n? Are you okay in there?"

There was no response. He pressed his ear against the door, listening intently. He could hear the faint sounds of you moving around inside, the clinking of glass and the rustling of papers. But you didn't answer him.

"Y/n," he called again, more firmly this time, "please... let me in."

Still nothing. Sunday's heart clenched, and he could feel the worry gnawing at him. He knew how much you valued your space, but he also knew that you tended to bottle things up, shutting everyone out when you were upset.

Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, he gently pushed the door open. The sight that greeted him broke his heart.

You were at your workstation, frantically scribbling notes and mixing chemicals, your hands moving with a desperate urgency. Your hair was a mess, your eyes red-rimmed from the tears you had clearly tried to wipe away. The normally organized lab was in disarray, with papers strewn across the desk and various vials and beakers cluttering the space.

"Y/n..." Sunday's voice was soft, almost pleading as he stepped into the room.

You didn't look up, too focused on your work, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way your hands trembled as you worked. He knew you were pushing yourself too hard, trying to make up for the lost time, but he couldn't just stand by and watch you suffer.

Gently, he approached you, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. "Y/n, please... stop for a moment," he urged, his voice filled with concern.

You finally paused, your hand stilling as you slowly turned to look at him. There was a moment of silence between you, the air thick with unspoken words.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I should've been more careful... I just... I wanted to help you so much."

Sunday shook his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and love. "You don't have to apologize, Y/n. I know how hard you're trying. But please... don't do this to yourself."

You looked away, your hands clenching into fists as you tried to hold back more tears. "But I need to fix this, Sunday. I can't just—"

He cut you off, gently cupping your face in his hands and turning you to face him. "You don't have to fix everything alone." His thumb gently brushed away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek.

"Sunday, I'm fine," you reassured him, though there was a tiredness in your eyes. "I just... I need to work on this. It's really important to me."

His gaze softened, and he reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "I know it is. I just... I don't want you to push yourself too hard. This was an accident. You don't have to fix it right away."

You placed your hand over his, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I want to do this for you. It's a gift... because I care about you so much." Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to his nose, a gesture so sweet and soft that it made his heart ache.

Sunday's hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before you gently pulled away. "I promise, I'm okay. I just need some time to focus."

You stepped back, locking the door once again, leaving Sunday standing alone in the hallway. He stared at the closed door, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He knew how much this project meant to you, how much you wanted to help him. But it was hard to see you pushing yourself so hard, especially when he felt responsible for the setback.

Sunday finally turned and walked back to the main living area, his thoughts swirling with concern. He wanted nothing more than to help you, to ease the pressure you were putting on yourself. But he also knew how stubborn you could be when you set your mind to something.

Sunday sat alone at the table, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him, an idea began to form in his mind. You were always so focused on helping others, especially him, that you rarely took time for yourself. You deserved something special—a gift that would show just how much you meant to him.

But what could he give you that would be meaningful? He knew you were a scientist, always curious, always seeking knowledge, but he wanted something that would touch your heart, something that would make you feel as loved and appreciated as you made him feel.

Sunday decided he needed some help with this. The members of the Astral Express were like family, and he knew they cared about you too. Maybe they could offer some ideas. March 7th, Dan Heng, Himeko, Welt... they all knew you well in different ways, and each of them might have a unique perspective on what you would appreciate.

Sunday was in deep trouble. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

He wasn't used to feeling this overwhelmed.

It was just a birthday gift—nothing to get worked up over. Yet, he couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at him. He needed to find the perfect gift for her, something that would surprise her and convey everything he felt. Being romantic wasn't exactly his strong suit, but for her, he was willing to step out of his comfort zone.

And just his luck, Mr. Welt Yang was in the central room of the Astral Express. He could help.

"Mr. Welt Yang, I'm here to ask you something. Don't worry, it's nothing too serious. But I do have a favor to ask. I'll help with anything you need after that."

"No need to be so formal, Sunday. You're part of the Express now. Ask what you wish, and I'll do my best to help," Welt replied with a warm smile.

Sunday was a little surprised but nodded gratefully. "I'm not even sure it's something I want... Let's just say I need someone's opinion."

"And I'm that someone?" Welt's smile widened like he already knew where this was headed.

"Well, you were in the right place at the right time, so I thought I'd ask you." Sunday attempted a smile, but it came off more goofy than anything, before crossing his arms over his chest. "I need to find a gift for Y/n, and I'm all out of ideas. I mean, I know I have the body of a god, but I'm not sure that'll be enough." He sighed, running his long fingers across his lips.

Maybe that last part wasn't necessary.

"I-I'm sorry for the last part. I just thought the atmosphere was awkward, so I—"

Welt chuckled softly. "That's how kids these days joke, right? I understand you're trying to fit in with modern humor, but you don't need to force it. Just be yourself."

"Mr. Yang, I appreciate it. You're very kind and mature, just like your age."

"I'm not that old," Welt replied, a touch defensively.

"May I ask your age then?"

"Why?"

"I thought it was inappropriate to ask a lady's age, not a man's, Mr. Welt..." Sunday asked

Welt gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. "You're right, it's usually a lady's age that's considered off-limits. But I suppose there's no harm in a little curiosity."

Sunday leaned in, genuinely interested now. "So, how old are you, Mr. Yang?"

Welt sighed, looking at Sunday with a mixture of amusement and something else—something more thoughtful. "I've seen many years come and go, Sunday. But it's not the number of years that matters; it's what you do with them. And speaking of that, age isn't something you should focus on too much. People—men or women—carry their experiences with them, not just their years."

Sunday nodded, absorbing Welt's words, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—an understanding, perhaps. Welt noticed it and hesitated for a moment. The young man had a past that was still somewhat of a mystery, even to him. He knew enough to recognize that Sunday's playful demeanor often masked deeper thoughts and feelings.

"You know, Sunday," Welt began, choosing his words carefully, "there's a reason why people tend to focus on the present rather than dwelling on the past or worrying too much about the future. It's because what we have right now is what's most important. And that includes the people around us, the ones we care about."

Sunday's expression softened, and he started listening more intently. Welt's words seemed to resonate with something deeper within him.

"Your concern for finding the perfect gift for Y/n, for instance," Welt continued, "isn't really about the gift itself. It's about what you're trying to say through that gift. You want to show her that you care, that you're thinking about her, and that she's important to you. It's the thought and the sincerity that will mean the most, not the price tag or the extravagance."

Sunday felt a warmth spread through him at Welt's words. He hadn't thought of it like that before, but it made sense. He wasn't just trying to impress Y/n; he wanted to make her feel special.

Welt noticed the change in Sunday's demeanor and continued, "As for asking a man's age... it's not about the number but the wisdom that comes with it. And I think you're already wiser than you realize, Sunday."

There was a moment of silence as Sunday absorbed Welt's words. He could tell that the older man was trying to guide him without prying too much into his past. Welt had always been perceptive like that, knowing when to push and when to hold back.

"Thank you, Mr. Welt," Sunday finally said, his voice sincere. "I think I know what I need to do now. It's not about finding the most extravagant gift. It's about finding something that'll really mean something to her."

Welt smiled warmly, relieved to see Sunday's confidence returning. "That's right. And whatever you choose, I'm sure she'll appreciate it because it'll come from you."

Sunday gave a determined nod. "You're right."

"How about a first edition of a novel she is particularly fond of?"

"Or of a literally classic that she might enjoy?"

"Like a novel..?" He turns the idea around in his head. "I'll enjoy them but- I don't want her up reading all night-" Sunday frowned.

"Just a suggestion, You can ask others too."

"Yes, Thanks Mr. Yang.." Sunday decided to look for Dan Heng.

Sunday found Dan Heng in the archives, quietly reading. He approached him, feeling a little more confident after his previous conversations. Dan Heng looked up from his book, his expression calm and attentive.

"Dan Heng, I need your advice," Sunday began. "I want to give Y/n a gift, something that shows her how much she means to me. Any thoughts?"

Dan Heng closed his book, thinking for a moment. "Y/n is dedicated, not just to her work, but to those she cares about. Perhaps a gift that reflects her interests, but also something that offers her a moment of peace or joy. It could be a rare book she's been searching for, or something that encourages her to relax, like a personalized playlist or a handcrafted piece of art."

Sunday felt a sense of relief wash over him as he listened to Dan Heng's calm, insightful words. "Thank you, Dan Heng."

He spotted March 7th in the lounge, fiddling with her camera as she tried to capture the perfect shot of something. She looked up as Sunday approached, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Hey, Sunday! What's up?" she asked, setting the camera down.

Sunday hesitated for a moment, then decided to dive right in. "I'm trying to think of a gift for Y/n... something special. She's been working so hard, and I want to show her how much I appreciate everything she does. Do you have any ideas?"

March 7th's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Oh, that's so sweet! Hmm... Y/n's always been into tech stuff, right? Maybe something to help her with her experiments? Or maybe something more personal, like... a photo album of memories? I could help put it together!"

Sunday smiled, appreciating her eagerness. "That's a great idea, March. I'll definitely think about it. Thank you."

Sunday spotted Stelle, who was glaring at him with an intensity that could burn through steel. He knew exactly why she was upset—all because he hadn't made her food earlier. In his defense, March had eaten most of it, and he had to save the rest for you. He had simply told Stelle to prepare her own dish, but she clearly wasn't pleased with that solution.

She didn't seem at all happy to see him now. But there's always a way to fix things, right? Maybe she could help him with his current dilemma.

As he approached, he noticed her eyebrows furrowing, her features hardening into a grimace. The look in her eyes could only be described as pure hatred.

"What do you want from me, Stupiday?" she spat out, using that lovely nickname she had for him.

"Stelle, you're always so kind to me," Sunday began with a hopeful smile, trying to soften her mood. "I know what I did was wrong. Please, just hear me out..."

"Hah! Hell will freeze over the day you deserve even an ounce of kindness. Now, what do you want from me?" she retorted, clearly not in the mood for any pleasantries.

He sighed, realizing that sugar-coating things wasn't going to get him anywhere. "It's about Y/n. Are you just going to stand there pulling that face, or are you actually going to let me talk?"

A flicker of concern crossed Stelle's eyes, and she sighed, some of the hostility in her expression fading. "Alright, tell me what's going on..."

Sunday felt a wave of relief but also frustration with himself. If he kept messing up like this, he wouldn't have anything to give you, and the day would end in disaster.

"I just want to find a gift for Y/n," he admitted, his voice a mix of desperation and determination. "Can you suggest any ideas?"

Stelle looked a bit surprised by his tone. She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. "I'll make up for the food once this is done... I could show her a few magic tricks or something, but I don't think that'll be enough."

She stared at him for a moment before finally speaking. "...I have a collection of treasures. I could give you some."

Sunday blinked, not expecting that offer. "Huh? What kind of treasures?"

"Things I got from dumpster diving back in Belobog. I've got some shiny stuff. Come with me, I'll show you—Wait! What are you doing!?" she yelped as he suddenly grabbed her hand.

Sunday-he couldn't help but cringe inwardly. Dumpster diving? He hadn't thought about where she might've found these "treasures," but now that it was out in the open, the thought of germs crawling all over those shiny objects made his skin crawl.

"Wait, you got these from the trash?" Sunday asked, his voice rising in disbelief.

Stelle stopped, turning to him with an annoyed look. "Yeah, so what? A lot of good stuff gets thrown out. It's not like it's all dirty."

"Are you kidding me? Trash is literally the definition of dirty! Who knows what kind of germs are on those things?" Sunday shuddered, pulling back from the collection of objects she was proudly displaying.

Stelle rolled her eyes. "You're such a wuss. They're fine."

But Sunday wasn't convinced. In fact, he was horrified. "Stelle, you have no idea what could be on that stuff! We're talking bacteria, mold, maybe even something worse! You need to wash your hands—immediately!"

"What? They're not that bad!" she protested, but Sunday was already ushering her toward the nearest sink.

"Not that bad? Stelle, this isn't up for debate. You're washing your hands right now, and you're going to do it at least a hundred times."

"A hundred—are you out of your mind?" Stelle tried to pull away, but Sunday was relentless.

"I'm serious, Stelle! I'm not letting you touch anything or anyone until those hands are scrubbed clean. We're talking full-on scrubbing—soap, water, the whole deal!"

Stelle groaned but relented, grumbling under her breath as she turned on the water and started washing. She shot him a glare between scrubs. "This is ridiculous. It's just a bit of trash."

"A bit of trash? You're probably washing off entire ecosystems right now!" Sunday shot back, crossing his arms as he watched her like a hawk.

Stelle continued washing, muttering curses under her breath, but Sunday wasn't satisfied until she had lathered and rinsed her hands multiple times. By the time she had washed them for what felt like the hundredth time, she was visibly exhausted.

"Are we done now?" Stelle asked, her voice strained as she leaned against the sink, looking like she was about to pass out.

Sunday nodded, satisfied. "Yeah, I think you're good. Sorry for being so intense, but... you never know what's on those things."

Stelle gave him a withering look, too tired to argue further. "You're impossible. If you're that worried about germs, maybe you should ask Himeko for help instead."

Sunday blinked, feeling a pang of guilt as he realized how hard he had pushed her. "I... yeah, maybe that's a good idea. I didn't mean to make you go through all that. Thanks, Stelle."

"Whatever," she muttered, slumping down onto a nearby chair, completely worn out. "Just... don't drag me into any more of your crazy ideas."

Sunday smiled sheepishly. "I promise I won't. I'll go find Himeko. You rest up, okay?"

As Stelle nodded weakly, Sunday turned and made his way to find Himeko, silently cursing himself for being so paranoid. Maybe Himeko would have a better idea, one that didn't involve germs or exhausting his friends.

He found Himeko in the control room, sipping on a cup of coffee as she monitored the Express's systems. She looked up when Sunday entered, offering him a warm smile.

"Sunday, it's good to see you. What can I do for you?" she asked.

Sunday explained his plan, and Himeko leaned back in her chair, thoughtful. "Why do you want to gift her?"

"Why would I-?"

"I can't help if I didn't know the context behind this, I saw you snooping around everyone for gifting her something she would like, I need to know you felt the urge to gift her."

"Y/n has been working on something to help me out lately and it got- destroyed by me yet she blamed it on herself and locked herself in her lab. I want to tell her. It didn't matter, I'm fine the way I'm- I want to tell her, She was too good to me with a gift."

Care to join me for some coffee?"

Sunday hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. He carefully took a seat across from her and accepted the cup she offered. He brought it to his lips, taking a delicate sip. He had never been much of a coffee drinker, but he was determined to do everything with care, especially when he was around others.

Himeko watched him with a small smile, amused by how perfectly he handled the cup, almost as if he were performing a delicate ritual. "You're quite the gentleman," she remarked, a teasing note in her voice.

Sunday smiled softly, placing the cup down with a gentle touch. "Thank you, Himeko."

Himeko's expression softened "I see. You care about her."

Sunday's wings fluttered slightly, a sign of his affection. "Yes, I do. More than anything."

Himeko smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. "Well, when it comes to showing someone you care, it often helps to create something personal—something that shows you've put thought and effort into it. Many women appreciate things like perfume. It's something that can be very personal and intimate. Why not try creating one for them?"

Sunday tilted his head, considering her suggestion. "Perfume? I've never made anything like that before."

Himeko chuckled. "It doesn't have to be perfect. It's the thought and effort that count. You could experiment with different scents, find something that reminds you of them, or something you think they'd like."

Sunday nodded slowly, the idea starting to take shape in his mind. "I think I can do that," he said, a small smile forming on his lips. "I want to create something that will make them smile whenever they use it."

Himeko reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Sunday. And if you need any help or advice along the way, you know where to find me."

Sunday's smile grew, and he felt a sense of determination welling up inside him. "Thank you, Himeko. I really appreciate your help."

"Anytime," she replied with a wink, taking another sip of her coffee. "I'm sure whatever you create will be perfect."

 Sunday left the common area, his mind was buzzing with ideas about creating the perfect perfume for you. But as he wandered through the halls of the Astral Express, he realized he had no idea where to find the ingredients he needed. Just as he was contemplating where to start, Himeko appeared around the corner, as if sensing his uncertainty.

"Still thinking about the perfume, Sunday?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Sunday nodded, his wings fluttering slightly in anticipation. "Yes, but I'm not sure where to find the right ingredients. I want it to be perfect."

Himeko's smile widened, and she glanced around, making sure no one else was nearby before leaning in slightly. "You know, I happened to notice that they have a collection of raw ingredients in their lab. Scents, oils, things like that. I think you might find exactly what you need there."

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise. "In their lab? But... wouldn't that be..."

Himeko chuckled softly. "A little sneaky? Perhaps. But it's for a good cause, don't you think? Besides, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if they knew what you were up to."

Sunday hesitated, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "But what if they catch me?"

Himeko shook her head, her tone reassuring. "They won't. In fact, I saw them earlier—fast asleep at their desk. They've been working so hard lately. I don't think they'll wake up anytime soon."

Sunday's heart softened at the thought of you asleep, exhausted from your work. The image made him even more determined to do something special for you. "If it's for them... I'll do it," he decided, his voice filled with resolve.

Himeko nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit. Just be quiet and careful, and you'll be fine. If you need any guidance, I'll be around."

With a grateful nod, Sunday made his way to your lab, his steps light and cautious. When he reached the door, he paused, taking a deep breath before quietly pushing it open. The room was dimly lit, and the soft sound of your breathing filled the space, confirming that you were indeed fast asleep.

He found you slumped over your desk, surrounded by scattered notes and books. The sight tugged at his heart—he wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and carry you to bed, but he knew he needed to stay focused on his mission.

As quietly as he could, Sunday scanned the room, his eyes landing on a small shelf lined with bottles and jars of various oils and essences. Carefully, he approached the shelf, inspecting the labels in the dim light. He selected a few that he thought would work well together—something floral and sweet, with a hint of warmth that reminded him of you.

With the ingredients in hand, Sunday took one last look at you. A tender smile crossed his lips as he watched you sleep, your face peaceful in repose. He whispered softly, "I hope this makes you happy."

Then, as quietly as he had entered, he slipped out of the lab, closing the door gently behind him. He could hardly contain his excitement as he made his way back to his own space, eager to start experimenting with the ingredients he'd gathered. The thought of presenting you with a custom-made perfume, crafted with love and care, filled him with a sense of joy and anticipation.

Back in his room, Sunday set to work, carefully blending the oils and essences, testing different combinations until he found the perfect balance. The process was meticulous, and he poured his heart into every step, imagining how you might react when you received the finished product.

With the initial blend of oils and essences complete, Sunday carefully observed the perfume he had created. The scent was lovely, but something was missing—something that would make it uniquely yours. As he pondered, his gaze fell upon a small vial of a pink, glowing liquid he had picked up from your lab. He had been hesitant to use it, unsure of its effects, but now it seemed like the perfect finishing touch.

He uncorked the vial, the liquid inside shimmering with an almost ethereal light. As he brought it closer to his nose, he inhaled deeply, and the scent that wafted from it was intoxicating—sweet, floral, with a hint of something almost magical. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. With a mix of curiosity and excitement, he carefully added a few drops of the glowing liquid to the perfume.

As the pink liquid blended with the other ingredients, the mixture seemed to come alive. The perfume took on a soft, luminous glow, and the scent transformed into something utterly captivating. It was rich and complex, with layers of sweetness and warmth that reminded him of everything he loved about you. The fragrance was powerful, yet delicate, carrying an almost hypnotic allure that made his heart race.

Sunday smiled, pleased with the result. This was the perfect scent, something that felt as special as the person it was meant for. He wanted to present it to you in a way that reflected its beauty, so he turned his attention to finding the right bottle.

After searching through the small collection of items he had gathered over time, Sunday found a delicate glass spray bottle, adorned with intricate designs that shimmered when they caught the light. It was elegant and refined, just like the fragrance inside. He carefully poured the glowing perfume into the bottle, taking care not to spill a single drop.

Once the bottle was filled, Sunday stepped back to admire his work. The soft pink glow of the liquid inside contrasted beautifully with the ornate designs on the bottle, creating a mesmerizing effect. It was almost as if the perfume itself was alive, a manifestation of his feelings for you.

With the perfume complete, Sunday held the bottle in his hands, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. He couldn't wait to give it to you, to see the look on your face when you realized how much thought and care he had put into creating something just for you.

Now, all that was left was to find the perfect moment to present it. He knew it had to be special—just like the perfume and the feelings he had poured into it.

"I'll give it to her in the morning."

Sunday reached out to set the bottle on his nightstand, but it slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor.

"Oh no... I really did it this time..." His frown deepened as he gathered the shattered bottle.

"What's this?" He stared at the pink liquid now staining the floor, his eyes widening in sudden realization. "It can't be!"

The next morning, something felt off aboard the Express.

It was strange—Sunday hadn't come to wake you up. In fact, you were the one who woke up first. He didn't join in your usual morning routine, and when you knocked on his door, there was no answer. You tried opening it, only to find it locked from the outside.

Sunday never slept past lunchtime. And he never locked you out of his room.

Apprehension swirled inside you. Just as you were debating what to do, Stelle dashed toward you.

"Y/n! You finally came back from that devil's workshop!" she exclaimed, breathless.

"Pardon, Stelle! It's just... Sunday locked himself in his room, and I'm not sure what to do." You couldn't hide the worry in your voice as you noticed Stelle's eyes narrow.

"Locked himself in? That doesn't sound like him." You bit your lip, concerned.

"I'm worried. Some of my things are missing... I think he took them to try something. I even gave him access to my lab."

"I see..." Stelle nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly gripped her baseball bat. "If it won't open, then I'll break it down. Stand back!"

"STELLE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Pom-Pom's voice rang out as they ran towards you, tiny legs moving as fast as they could. "Stop bullying my newest recruit!"

You sighed. "Sunday locked himself in. He's become 'sad-day.'"

"Let me call Himeko."

Before long, Himeko arrived, a slight smile on her face as she assessed the situation. "So, Sunday has locked his door, and you can't get in?"

"Yes..." You looked at her with hopeful eyes, knowing she'd have a solution. She reached into her coat pocket, producing a key with a soft clink.

"Luckily, his room has a lock that can be opened with a key. Here you go. I have a spare." She held it out to you with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you so much!" You cheered, though your tired eyes betrayed your exhaustion.

Himeko gently pulled Stelle away. "Come with me, Stelle. There's work to be done. Y/n, don't be too hard on him. He must have his reasons."

Himeko was right. Sunday must have his reasons. You unlocked the door with trembling hands.

"Sunday? I'm coming in."

The moment you stepped inside, a sweet fragrance overwhelmed your senses. Your eyes fell on Sunday, sprawled limply across his bed, his shirt half-buttoned, his breathing uneven.

"...Sunday!?"

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice. "What... are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry I came in without asking, but I was worried about you!"

"Please leave."

"What?"

"...I have a cold. I don't want you or the others to catch it. Leave me... alone."

Something was clearly wrong.

"I can't do that! Your face is all red!" You moved closer, pressing your hand against his forehead. His eyes shot open, and he gasped at your touch.

"See? You're burning up! You definitely have a fever!"

"You silly girl... I told you to leave me... alone." His voice was hoarse, and before you could react, he pulled you close, kissing you roughly.

"Hm!" You gasped, caught off guard as he kissed you again and again, desperation in every touch. You pushed him away, your heart racing.

As you did, your gaze fell on the room's mess—the missing vials, the scattered pink liquid... Realization dawned on you. "Aphrodisiac!? Why on earth...?" You stared at him in shock, still pinned beneath him on the bed. He let out a shuddering sigh, as if surrendering.

"I'm sorry... I lied to you."

"What?"

"I don't have a cold. I'm like this because of the aphrodisiac." He confessed, telling you how he had stolen things from your lab, how he accidentally added the pink liquid without checking the label. When the bottle shattered last night, he realized what it was.

"It's my fault... I wanted to make something for you, but I messed up."

"Shh, it's okay... But why did you want to make me something all of a sudden?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I dropped the vial you were working on. You panicked and spent the entire day trying to recreate it. When I saw you asleep at your desk, I felt so guilty... I wanted to make it up to you." His voice wavered as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself.

"...I'm sorry." You whispered, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his frustration giving way to something gentler. "It's fine... really. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he slowly reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

You blinked, your breath hitching as his hand slid down, trailing along your arm before his fingers found their way under your hips. He gently lifted you, his touch warm against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmured again, his eyes never leaving yours. "I never wanted to hurt you or make you worry like this."

His fingers moved with deliberate slowness, grazing the curve of your waist as he pulled you closer. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his breath warm against your ear.

"Sunday..." you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Let me make it up to you... Please, just let me take care of you."

Before you could respond, his hands moved with more confidence, sliding under your hips and pulling you onto his lap. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, and you could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric.

"You're always so kind, always thinking about everyone else... Let me be the one to take care of you this time," he breathed, his voice filled with a mix of desire and something deeper, something that made your chest tighten.

His hands continued their exploration, fingers tracing the curve of your hips as he held you close, his touch both tender and possessive. Every movement was deliberate, slow, as if he wanted to savor every second, every reaction he coaxed out of you.

"Sunday..." you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat as his lips found yours again, this time softer, more controlled, yet still filled with that same urgency.

You could feel him shifting beneath you, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips.

I want to be gentle and kind to you but at the same time I want to be rough and ravage you.." You felt your ears burn when you heard the pure need in his voice.

"But, I don't want you to hate me. I know it's pointless to say so now that I'm like this, Same as before, The first time we-" He let out a wry chuckle and stared deep into your eyes.

You could see the passionate desire for you in them.

"I'm not as in control as you think...So, Honestly...I want to make love more roughly to you than before. So you need to leave." Even now, he's trying to put your feelings before his..

But you couldn't leave him now, Instead you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

"I won't leave. I'm staying with you, Sunday.."

"Do you know what will happen if you stay? What I'll do to you?"

"I'm telling you, I'm not leaving! ...Hey.."

"What?" You cradled his face in your hands. "I know you always try to be gentle and kind to me, But, I wouldn't mind to see the another side of you." You pushed aside any shyness you felt and decided to go for it. "I want you to do whatever you want to me, I mean the effect will wore off faster this way. Medical approved."

"You're foolish woman, saying that to me at a time like this.." He let out a surprised chuckle and pulled you close. He kissed you deeply as his fingertips played with your earlobe.

"Ah!" You opened your mouth, immediately greeted by his hot tongue twining with yours. 'Is it okay, If I'm not gentle today?" He whispered in your ear and kissed your temples, your cheek and your neck before pinning you down to the bed.

But he did it rougher, more aggressive than usual.

"Ah! U-um!"

"What? Do you want me to stop?" He lifted his head to look at you putting his tongue's assault on your collarbones on a temporary hold. The forceful tone of his voice was slightly bewildering. But not one bit of you wanted him to stop.

"No.."

"Heh, Stubborn woman.." His smirk was wild and wicked as he began to unbuttoning your blouse. "But....I love that you.."

He pulled your shirt all the way up over your head, lifting both your arms with it. and then he wrapped the shirt tightly around your wrists.

"Wait, Sunday. I won't be able to move.."

"That's the point."

"You did it on pur-!" While you were protesting he'd loosened the lace of your bra strap and now yanked it off freeing your breasts to his hot gaze.

"Since it's bright in here I can see every bit of you so well...Darling.." He said with shush voice.

"Shh..Don't say that!" You arched your back when you felt his hand cupping your breasts, His thumb circling your nipples.

And then you felt his other hand touch your thigh. "I can't wait.."

He pushed your skirt up and you felt his breath on your thigh. He was just touching you and nothing else, your body was feverishly hot and you were panting.

All you want is for him to touch you more.. What's going on?

"Why are you making that face?"

"Because. My body feels strange.."

"The aphrodisiac started working on you too.." Sunday looked over at the door realizing that it wasn't locked. He let out a sigh if it were all for naught.

Meanwhile, your body got hotter..."Sunday. I'm so embarrassed.."

"Then I'll keep you busy you won't have time to be." After he tossed the shirt to the floor, he lifted up one of your legs, nuzzling you with his mouth.

You felt a sharp prick like teeth touch the soft flesh on your inner thigh. was he going to make you? You were surprised, but your body knew.

It knew that the pain only lasted a split-second to be followed by unimaginable ecstasy.

"You don't care what kind of dirty things we do as long we do it together right? Let yourself go..."

You automatically looked away, but he reached up and nudged your head back to look straight.

"Don't look away. I want you to watch what I'm doing to you." he whispered into your ear as he flicked your sensitive nipple with his fingertips.

Over and Over again.

His fingers danced across your sensitive bud, teasing and coaxing it to peak. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and husky. As you met his intense gaze, he applied firmer pressure, rubbing circles around your clit until you writhed beneath him.

The room seemed to spin, your senses heightened by the potent drug coursing through your veins. Every touch, every whisper sent electric shocks of pleasure racing along your nerves. "Sunday, please..." you moaned, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the overwhelming need building inside you.

With a wicked grin, he slid two fingers inside you, stretching and filling you completely. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, slick with arousal. He pumped his fingers slowly, deliberately, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep within you.

As he continued to tease your clit, you felt an odd sense of unease creeping over you. Something about the situation didn't sit right, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was. Despite your growing discomfort, your body responded eagerly to his touch, your hips grinding against his hand as he worked your sensitive nub.

"Wait, the door...it's unlocked," you managed to gasp out between moans, suddenly realizing the potential danger of being vulnerable like this. But before you could even contemplate moving to lock it, he shifted his attention back to your entrance, sliding his fingers deeper inside you.

His thumb pressed firmly against your clit once more, rubbing in tight circles that had you seeing stars. "Shh, don't worry about that now," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

Just as you were about to protest further, his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, silencing your words. The intensity of the embrace stole your breath away, leaving you helpless and pliant beneath him. When he finally broke the kiss, you were left panting, your mind reeling from the sudden onslaught of sensation.

I can't let you go, he whispered urgently, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart race. Not when I've got you just like this...so open and willing. His fingers continued their relentless pace, stroking and curling inside you as if trying to claim you utterly.

The sensation of being restrained only served to heighten your arousal, making your pussy clench around his probing fingers.

He leaned down then, his mouth hovering just inches from your throbbing clit. With a tantalizing slowness, he licked along your slit, savoring the taste of your arousal. Each lap of his tongue sent jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core, making you whimper and writhe beneath him.

His tongue delved deeper, swirling around your clit and flicking against your sensitive bud. The dual assault of his fingers and tongue had you teetering on the edge of release, your entire body quivering with pent-up need.

His tongue continued its relentless exploration of your wet folds, lapping at your juices and circling your clit with precision. Each stroke of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, driving you closer and closer to the brink.

As he lavished attention onto your swollen clit, he slid another finger inside you, stretching your tight walls even further. The combined sensations of his probing digits and teasing tongue had you writhing helplessly on the bed, desperate for some sort of relief.

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you panting and whimpering in frustration. But before you could voice your displeasure, he moved lower, positioning himself between your spread thighs.

He grasped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he buried his face against your dripping sex. His tongue plunged deep inside you, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts that had you arching off the bed. The wet heat of his mouth engulfed your aching flesh, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive inner walls.

One hand snaked up to pinch and roll your nipple while the other found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the engorged bundle of nerves. The triple stimulation was almost too much to bear, sending shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your body.

Your orgasm crashed over you without warning, your whole body tensing as wave after wave of pure bliss washed through you. You cried out his name, your hips bucking wildly against his mouth as he drank down your essence.

After bringing you to a shattering climax, he slowly kissed his way up your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, taking turns to suckle and nip at your nipples. His fingers trailed down your stomach, tracing the curves of your belly before slipping back between your thighs.

Positioning himself at your entrance, he teased the tip of his cock against your still throbbing clit, coating it in your slick arousal. He watched your reactions intently, drinking in every twitch and moan as he toyed with your body.

Finally, he pushed forward, sinking into you inch by slow inch. The stretch was exquisite, your inner walls gripping him tightly as he filled you completely. He paused, allowing both of you time to adjust to his size, before starting to move.

Each thrust was deliberate and deep, designed to hit all the right spots inside you.

He began to move, setting a rhythm that was both torturous and perfect. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming warmth, his cock sliding effortlessly against your sensitive inner walls. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your gasps and moans.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he continued to pound into you. The dual assault of his cock and his demanding mouth had you spiraling towards another climax. Your hands clawed at the sheets, seeking purchase as he fucked you relentlessly.

"Look at me," he growled against your lips, pulling back just enough to demand your full attention. His eyes burned with raw lust as he watched your face contort with pleasure, each expression etched into his memory.

With a guttural groan, he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless tempo. Every thrust hit just right, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, a sure sign that he was close to his own release.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. "I want to see you fall apart underneath me." His hands gripped your hips tighter, guiding you to meet his thrusts, ensuring that every inch of his length rubbed against your most sensitive spot.

The pressure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped. A scream tore from your throat as your orgasm ripped through you, your inner muscles clamping down on his cock in powerful spasms.

As your orgasm rocked through you, he felt your walls flutter and clench around his pulsating cock. It was all the encouragement he needed, pushing him over the edge. With a roar of satisfaction, he buried himself deep inside you, his hot seed spilling forth as he came undone.

Collapsing atop you, he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure. His body trembled with aftershocks, his cock throbbing inside you as he rode out the last waves of his climax.

As you lay there basking in the afterglow, a sudden realization dawned upon you - the door remained unlocked, leaving you vulnerable should anyone decide to barge in. Before you could voice your concern, he began trailing kisses along your neck, his lips soft and insistent against your skin.

"Do not worry about the door," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Nothing will tear me away from you now. Ignore everything else; focus solely on this moment."

His words were like a soothing balm, easing your worries and melting away any lingering tension. As he continued his sensual assault on your neck, you felt yourself relaxing fully into his embrace, content to let the world fade away. There would be plenty of time to deal with the practicalities later; for now, you surrendered to the passion igniting between you once more.

Despite your best efforts to remind him about the unlocked door, he simply ignored your pleas, instead focusing his attentions on your sensitive neck. His lips traced lazy patterns across your skin, sending delicious tingles shooting down your spine. Each gentle kiss drew a soft moan from your lips, distracting you from your initial concerns.

"You're so beautiful when you moan," he whispered huskily, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Let's not waste this precious moment worrying about anything else." His hands roamed over your body, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts and tweaking your hardened nipples.

With every touch, every kiss, you found yourself forgetting about the outside world. All that mattered was the warm, solid weight of him pressed against you, the tantalizing brush of his lips against your neck, and the overwhelming sensation of sheer bliss enveloping you.

As he continued to lavish attention on your neck, he couldn't help but notice the profound sense of happiness that washed over him whenever he held you close. It was as if the very presence of your warm, supple body against his own ignited a spark within his soul, filling him with an unexplainable joy.

He pulled back slightly, gazing down at you with adoration shining in his eyes. "You have no idea how wonderful it feels to hold you like this," he confessed, his voice tinged with emotion. "Every curve, every breath, every beat of your heart... it all makes me incredibly happy."

His thumbs brushed tenderly over your cheeks, wiping away any remaining traces of worry or stress. In their place, he left behind a soft, loving smile, one that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for you.

The muffled giggles grew louder, you could hear the distinct sound of footsteps approaching. Fear gripped your heart, but before you could even consider bolting for cover, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

"Don't worry," he reassured you, his voice low and steady. "Just relax and enjoy this." With deft movements, he guided you onto his lap, positioning you so that his throbbing member slid easily inside you. The sensation was incredible, a welcome distraction from the approaching sounds.

His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you began to rock against him. The rhythmic motion, combined with the sound of laughter growing closer, had you surrendering completely to the moment. It wasn't long before you found yourself lost in the pleasure, oblivious to anything but the intense sensations coursing through your body.

You felt him moving beneath you, the rhythm of his thrusts matching perfectly with the rising excitement within you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Seeing him so content, so fulfilled, filled you with a warmth that spread throughout your entire being.

"Sunday."

"Hm?"

"Please," you pleaded softly, looking into his eyes. "Kiss me again."

Without hesitation, he complied, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss. It was tender and gentle, yet packed with a depth of emotion that left you breathless. The taste of him, the feeling of his lips moving against yours – it was intoxicating.

In that moment, you realized that you didn't care about the laughter getting closer, the potential intrusion of others. All that mattered was this man, this moment, and the indescribable pleasure that he was coaxing from your very core.

The sounds of laughter faded away, both of you succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a peaceful slumber entwined in each other's arms. Even in sleep, his protective instincts remained strong, his large frame shielding you from any potential disturbance.

Hours passed, and as you stirred awake, you noticed his hand gently stroking your skin, cleaning away any remnants of sweat or fluids from your body. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as if he were worshipping every inch of you.

Occasionally, he would lean in to press soft kisses against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. These gentle caresses served as a reminder of the intimate bond you shared, a physical manifestation of the love and desire that burned brightly between you.

Wrapped in his embrace, surrounded by his comforting presence, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply satisfied.

You opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the disarray of the room, the clothes strewn haphazardly, the sheets twisted and tangled around your legs. Then there was the feeling of emptiness, a void where his body once occupied.

Slowly, you sat up, stretching out your limbs and wincing at the slight ache that radiated from your thighs. Sunday morning sunlight streamed in through the window, casting long shadows across the room and illuminating the state of undress you found yourself in.

A rush of embarrassment flooded your senses as reality set in. What had you done? Who had you done it with?

The door! You scrambled off the bed, reaching for the robe discarded on the floor. Your fingers brushed against something warm and hard, causing you to freeze. There, nestled between your legs, lay his thick, pulsing cock.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling noise coming from the bed behind you. You turned to see him emerge from under the covers, hastily pulling the sheets up to his chin to conceal his nudity. His face was flushed, and his eyes darted nervously between you and the door, as if he feared an intruder might burst in at any moment.

"I...I can explain," he stammered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "It just...happened. We got carried away..."

Despite the initial shock and embarrassment, a sudden wave of mirth washed over you. The absurdity of the situation, the ridiculousness of trying to hide his naked form under a thin sheet, struck you as hilarious. Before you knew it, peals of laughter spilled from your lips, echoing through the room.

"It's okay!" you managed to gasp out between giggles. "You don't have to hide. In fact, you did more than great - you were amazing!"

Your laughter seemed to break the tension, and soon enough, he joined in, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he let the sheet fall away. The sight of his bare torso, glistening with sweat from their activities, only made you laugh harder.

"You're one to talk," he retorted playfully, gesturing to your own nude form.

The laughter subsided, you found yourselves grinning at each other, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared amusement. The air was charged with a new energy, a palpable tension that hinted at the possibilities that lay ahead.

He reached out, his fingers tracing lightly along your collarbone before drifting down to cup your breast. His touch sent sparks racing through your veins, reigniting the flames of desire that had been simmering all along.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "we should probably get dressed before we attract any unwanted attention..."

But even as he spoke, his hand continued its exploration, kneading and teasing your sensitive flesh until you were arching into his touch, craving more. The promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing prospect that left you breathless and wanting.

His hands roamed over your curves, he pulled you close, pressing his lips against your forehead in a tender, lingering kiss. "We have all day," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "No need to rush things."

With that, he guided you towards the bed, pushing you gently onto the mattress. The soft pillows cradled your head as he loomed above you, his muscular physique casting a shadow over your prone form.

His eyes bore into yours, searching, questioning. "Tell me about your past," he said, his voice a blend of curiosity and concern. "What brought you here?"

When Sunday asks about your past, you hesitate for a moment before deciding to share the story that shaped you.

"Even from my childhood, I was always... different," you begin, the memories flooding back. "My mother, with her delicate features and vibrant green hair, carried me for ten long months. She barely had time to name me and give me this golden earring before she died right after I was born."

You pause, touching the earring that still hangs from your ear, a constant reminder of the mother you never knew. "I spoke my first words moments after birth. It shocked everyone in the room. My father, once a renowned apothecary, raised me alone. He was a good parent... at first."

Your voice lowers as the memories darken. "But then he fell ill, struck by some unknown disease that made him miserable. The medicine I prepared for him had side effects, ones that twisted his mind. He started hitting me. I got used to it. I even pitied him because I knew it wasn't really him—just the illness and the medicine."

You look away, eyes distant. "But on my 9th birthday, after another round of abuse, I made a decision. I told myself that humans are ridiculous and ugly. I decided then that I would make humanity evolve so they wouldn't have to become... what my father became."

You pause, your tone growing colder. "That was the last birthday I ever spent at home."

You continue, the weight of your past heavy on your mind, but you push through, knowing that Sunday needs to understand.

"I couldn't stay there any longer, not after that day," you say, your voice steady despite the painful memories. "So, I ran away. I didn't know where I was going, just that I needed to escape. That's when I found the Astral Express."

Your expression softens slightly at the thought. "Himeko was the first person I met. She's been taking care of me ever since I arrived. It felt different—everything did. Like a new beginning, a chance to start over. But even with that, I always felt... different. Not just from the others on the Express, but from everything."

You look down at your hands, recalling the small creatures you've tried to befriend. "I've always liked small animals, but they're scared of me. I don't blame them. There's something about me that even I can't quite understand. No one on the Express really likes or dislikes me. I'm just... there, and they don't know what to make of me. I've always been weird, and I knew that. But things started to change."

You smile, though it's tinged with a hint of sadness. "Himeko, Welt, Stelle, Dan Heng, March... They found me weird, too. But they didn't push me away. Instead, they tried to understand me. And through them, especially Himeko, I began to realize something. Maybe humans aren't as ugly as I once thought."

Your eyes meet Sunday's, a faint glimmer of hope in them. "It's still hard for me to fully believe, but they've shown me a different side of humanity. One that's worth understanding, worth... evolving for."

You chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood after sharing so much of yourself. "You know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "my birthday is right after Monday."

Sunday's eyes light up with excitement, his enthusiasm almost contagious. But you quickly shake your head, the smile on your lips fading. "But honestly, I don't care about it. I've always hated my birthday. What's the point in celebrating something when there's no one to wish you well? No birthday wishes, no reason to celebrate... it's just another day."

Before he can respond, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, the moment tender despite the heavy words. When you pull back, you give him a teasing smile. "So, what do you say? Are you joining me for a bath?"

He hesitates, his expression a mix of emotions, but he eventually nods, though there's a trace of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah... I'll join you," he says, his voice soft.

As the two of you head towards the bath, Sunday can't help but think to himself, determination building in his heart. He wanted to give you the perfect gift, something that would make you see your birthday differently, something that would make you feel truly celebrated for the first time in your life.

As the two of you make your way to the bath, you notice that Sunday seems unusually quiet, deep in thought. You both settle into the warm water, the steam rising around you, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Sunday finally breaks the silence, glancing at you with a thoughtful expression.

"So... do you ever talk about your birthday with anyone else on the Astral Express?" he asks, trying to sound casual but clearly curious.

You lean back, the warmth of the water soothing your tense muscles. "Not really," you admit, your tone light. "I mean, what's there to talk about? It's just another day. Besides, I doubt they even know when my birthday is."

Sunday frowns slightly, as if the idea of you being forgotten like that bothers him. "You never told Himeko or anyone?"

You shake your head. "Nope. It's not something I like to think about, so I don't see the point in bringing it up. They've got enough to deal with anyway."

Sunday looks down, his brow furrowed in thought. "But... don't you want to change that? Maybe this year could be different."

You give him a small smile, though there's a hint of sadness in your eyes. "Maybe. But honestly, Sunday, I've never really had a reason to celebrate it. The idea of just letting it pass by feels... easier. Besides, I've never really known what it feels like to have a birthday that matters."

After the bath, Sunday finds himself lying awake in bed, thoughts swirling in his mind. The idea of making your upcoming birthday special sticks with him, and he can't shake it. He picks up his phone, hesitating for a moment before deciding to act.

He opens the Astral Express group chat and creates a new group, adding everyone from the crew. As the notifications start popping up on their devices, 

Sunday's fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before he typed out a message.

March texts you!

March texts sunday!

After that, Things were down-hill. Suddenly, Out of nowhere The Astral Express stopped at the location you thought you'll never see again.

Your home. The Planet of ????????

You didn't feel disturbed tho, You just spend time with Sunday in you room, locked up. While the others were working hard on something.

Sunday would leave and come back, usually late at nights and March and Himeko suddenly took your measurement for custom clothes they said.

He looked bothered, You didn't understand why.

Today, You understood.

Wake up, Y/n! You're getting married that's your birthday!

Wedding gowns of various styles are displayed before you, each one more stunning than the last. But there's no sense of excitement or blooming flowers in your mind, just a quiet unease.

The assistant beside you is practically bubbling over with enthusiasm as she holds up gown after gown, her voice chirping with excitement.

"Look at this one with a boat neck and diamonds! It's the latest fashion this year! Or how about this one-shoulder gown? It's dreamy without being too flamboyant. And this fishtail dress? It's perfect for your figure! Your lover will fall head over heels all over again when they see you in it!"

"What's wrong with my current figure?" you ask, staring at her with a look that's meant to convey confusion, but it must come off as something more intimidating.

The assistant's eyes widen as she stammers, "N-Nothing! You look amazing as you are! I just meant... well, do you want your husband to help you decide? Or would you rather keep it a surprise?"

"Husband? Who said he's my husband already?" You can't help the choke in your voice, the words catching in your throat.

"I'm sorry! I just assumed... I mean, it is your wedding day, after all! But I suppose it's a bit sudden... planning everything in just a day—"

"The Astral Express can handle anything. But now I see—this is my birthday gift. I thought March was joking... but I didn't expect him to agree so easily. It's only been a few weeks, and here we are..." You trail off, realizing you're venting to a complete stranger.

The assistant blinks, then smiles warmly. "Oh my! Don't worry about it. I married my husband on our first date, knew within a day he was the one. We're still together, though I wouldn't recommend it to just anyone. The world's a strange place."

"Indeed... maybe not everyone." You sigh, trying to shake off the anxiety. "Alright, I'll keep it a secret." You decide you're not ready to let Sunday see you like this just yet, and you pull the curtain of the fitting room closed to change.

In just a few moments, you'll go from Miss Y/n to Mrs. L/n. Dan Heng mentioned that Sunday was going to take your last name.

Life's a strange thing. Life's funny! Life's fun! Life's stressful, overrated, and pretty damn good all at once. It's enough to make you nervous.

A slice of romance wasn't something you expected, let alone marriage. But here it is, staring you in the face.

You feel like a puppet in a play orchestrated by the whims of the Astral Express.

And Sunday... he's your gift, your surprise. Maybe by this, you'd... never mind.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could hardly believe the girl in the wedding gown and veil was you. It felt surreal, like a dream you might wake up from at any moment. The delicate lace of the gown hugged your figure perfectly, and the veil draped over your shoulders with an ethereal softness.

Himeko, satisfied with her work, set down the comb she had been using to adjust your hair. She leaned in close, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't be nervous, Sunday will definitely be satisfied with how you look now."

"I-I'm not nervous..." you stammered, trying to laugh it off, but the tremble in your voice betrayed you. Thank the stars that Sunday wasn't here to see you like this—so vulnerable, so uncertain.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a knock echoed through the room. His voice followed, calm and composed.

"Miss Himeko, I have the item with me."

Himeko straightened up, giving you a reassuring smile before heading toward the door. "Just a moment, I'm coming..."

You turned around nervously, but Himeko gently but firmly guided you back to face the mirror. "Be good and don't move. The bride and groom cannot see each other in advance."

"We're not—" you started to protest, but Himeko was already at the door.

Left alone with your reflection, a sudden wave of anger and frustration washed over you. You glared at the mirror, willing the anxiety to disappear. But as you stared, your eyes widened in shock. The girl in front of you—dressed in a wedding gown, veil perfectly arranged—was you. But it didn't feel like you. It was like looking at a stranger, a version of yourself you hardly recognized.

Just then, the door burst open, and March 7th, Dan Heng, and Stelle rushed in, all talking at once.

"Y/n, you look amazing!"

"You'll be fine, really—"

"Wow, I can't believe—"

Their voices blended together, and before you could even register what was happening, your body acted on instinct. Startled by the sudden intrusion, you flinched—and your fist shot out, connecting squarely with March's face.

Time seemed to freeze as March stumbled back, holding her nose with a look of pure shock. The room went dead silent, everyone staring at you in a mix of disbelief and concern.

"Oh my lord, March! I'm so sorry!" you blurted out, horrified at what you'd done. But the confusion, the nerves, the overwhelming rush of emotions—it was all too much.

March, ever the trooper, waved it off, though she was still rubbing her nose. "No worries, Y/n! I get it, big day jitters and all... but wow, you pack a punch!"

Dan Heng and Stelle exchanged glances, trying to suppress their smile. 

You manage to compose yourself, though the embarrassment is still evident on your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you mumble, "You know, March... maybe you deserved that punch."

March 7th's eyes widen in mock horror, but then she sticks her tongue out at you playfully. Before you can react, she suddenly lunges forward, pinching both of your cheeks between her fingers. "You're just too cute, Y/n!" she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

"March, stop—ow!" you protest, your voice muffled by her hands, but she's too busy cooing over you to pay any attention.

"Oh, you're so adorable when you're flustered! I just have to capture this moment!" March chirps, pulling out her phone with one hand while still holding your cheeks with the other.

"March, no—" you start, but she's already snapped a selfie, your squished cheeks and wide eyes making you look more like a startled chipmunk than a bride-to-be.

March giggles at the photo, clearly pleased with herself, while you groan in exasperation. Dan Heng and Stelle, however, are less amused, giving her identical deadpan looks.

"Alright, that's enough," Stelle says, her tone firm but lighthearted. She and Dan Heng exchange a knowing glance, and before March can protest, Stelle and Dan Heng each take an arm, gently dragging her out of the room.

"Wait, I'm not done—Y/n still looks so cute!" March protests, laughing as she's pulled away, but she doesn't put up much of a fight.

As the door closes behind them, the room falls quiet again. You let out a sigh of relief, rubbing your sore cheeks. But then you notice Dan Heng is still standing there, his expression unusually soft, with a small, strange smile playing on his lips.

"You know," he says slowly, almost as if he's choosing his words carefully, "you really do look pretty, Y/n."

His words catch you off guard, and you feel a warmth spread across your face that has nothing to do with March's earlier pinching. It's rare to see Dan Heng show this side of himself, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

You manage a small smile in return, feeling a mix of emotions you can't quite name. "Thanks, Dan Heng."

He nods, the strange smile lingering a moment longer before he turns to leave, giving you a moment of privacy to collect yourself before the ceremony.

The door closed.

Because of this door was opened just a little. You couldn't see Sunday and could only hear a bit from time to time. Probably, because he couldn't hold back his curiosity or simply because he wanted to inspect, He opened for a moment, but Himeko closed it immediately.

"You, Young people why are you so impatient?"

"I'm..not- I'm just worried about Y/n and want to make sure nothing's going wrong."

"I'm here and nothing will be wrong, just wait outside." You weren't sure whether Sunday saw you or not. You only knew the nervousness in your heart had transformed into a feeling complicated.

For a while, you couldn't tell whether you wanted him to see you or not.

You felt the only person who could calm the restless and disturbed you down was him. As if feeling your nervousness, he came back before going far. This time he didn't push the door open. He just knocked.

"Relax, When you get nervous, you make weird faces." You couldn't hear his voice clearly through this door, but it really calmed you down.

"Only he can calm you down. You're finally smiling." Himeko teased you as she opened a small jewelry box she just received. There was a simple ring in it.

"This is..?"

"Why do people exchange rings?"

"Oh."

"Sunday said that this ring was something precious to him. I think it's sentiment, maybe it's his mother's ring who knows. I am keeping it for safe guard."

"I see.."

The church bells rang twelve times, marking the moment you'd been both dreading and anticipating. You could hear the soft hum of voices and the rustle of fabric as the guests settled into their seats. Sunday, just beyond the carved wooden gates, gave a slight cough as he straightened his bow tie one last time, ensuring everything was in place. His cheeks were slightly flushed with nervous anticipation.

He hesitated before speaking, his voice almost shy. "Mr. Yang, can I ask for a request?"

Welt turned toward him, his expression curious but kind. "Yes, Sunday? Is something the matter?"

Sunday shifted his weight, glancing down the hallway as if gathering his thoughts. "Could you... would you be willing to walk Y/n down the aisle? I don't want her to feel alone, and after hearing some things about her past... I think it would make her feel better."

Welt's eyes softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he nodded. "Like a father figure?" He looked down, lost in thought for a moment, as if reminiscing about something. Then, with a warmth in his voice, he agreed, "Of course, Sunday. I'd be honored."

Meanwhile, in the room where you were getting ready, your hands trembled as you held the crown, your mind a whirl of emotions. The crown slipped from your fingers, rolling down the length of your gown, and your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively bent down to retrieve it. But Himeko was quicker, her hand darting out to catch it before it hit the floor.

"The crown," you murmured, but Himeko just smiled, lifting it back into place.

"You look beautiful, Y/n," she said softly, her voice full of pride. "Stop worrying. You're perfect."

"I'm not nervous!" you protested weakly, though the blush on your cheeks told a different story. Your reflection in the mirror betrayed you—a girl in a pure white wedding gown, hair elegantly tied up, with a veil dotted with delicate flowers draped over your bare shoulders. Just like you had imagined as a little girl. That girl was you.

Himeko stood behind you, carefully fixing the diamond-studded crown on your head. She met your eyes in the mirror, her smile warm and encouraging. "There, all done. Now, it's time for our perfect bride to meet her groom. I'm proud of you."

Your mind was too full of thoughts to respond immediately, so you simply stared at your reflection, the reality of the moment finally settling in.

Himeko didn't give you time to overthink. She gently pulled you up from your seat, guiding you toward the door where the noise from the ceremony just beyond it filtered through. She hummed the Wedding March under her breath as she opened the door, and in that instant, a flurry of ribbons and petals rained down in celebration, filling the air with color and joy.

You blinked in surprise as Welt Yang appeared at the threshold, standing tall with a gentle expression. He extended his arm to you with a smile, his eyes kind and reassuring.

"Y/n," he began, his voice steady and comforting, "I'd be honored to walk you down the aisle, if you'll allow me. As a father figure... if that's alright with you."

For a moment, you could only stare at him in stunned silence, your mind reeling. The offer was unexpected, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart swell with gratitude. You'd never imagined having this kind of support today, and the thought of walking down the aisle alone had filled you with dread.

But now, with Welt offering to stand beside you, the anxiety in your chest seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and reassurance. Slowly, you nodded, your expression softening as you accepted his arm.

Welt's smile widened, and he gave a small, approving nod in return. "Then let's not keep everyone waiting, shall we?" he said, his tone light yet full of affection.

 you linked your arm with his, the doors to the ceremony opened fully, and the room beyond was revealed in all its splendor. The guests turned to look at you, their eyes bright with anticipation. The sight of Sunday waiting for you at the end of the aisle made your heart flutter, but with Welt beside you, each step felt steadier, more certain.

As you walked down the aisle, arm in arm with Welt, the reality of the moment began to sink in. The grandeur of the ceremony was almost overwhelming, 

As you neared the end of the aisle, your eyes were drawn to Sunday. He stood tall and handsome, his posture confident but his eyes betraying the nervous anticipation that mirrored your own. He was dressed impeccably, his suit perfectly tailored, the subtle gleam of his cufflinks catching the light. But it was his expression that held your attention—a look of pure admiration mixed with a hint of disbelief, as if he couldn't quite fathom that this moment was real.

You stared at him, unable to look away, your heart pounding in your chest. Sunday met your gaze, his eyebrows raised slightly as if surprised by your reaction, but then he smiled softly. It was a smile that spoke volumes—comfort, affection, and a silent promise that everything was going to be okay. His eyes never left yours, grounding you in the here and now, making the world around you fade away.

But even as you basked in the warmth of his smile, your thoughts drifted to someone who wasn't there. Your eyes searched the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of his sister, Robin. You had hoped she would come, to stand by her brother's side on such an important day. But she was nowhere to be seen.

A pang of sadness tugged at your heart, not just for yourself, but for Sunday. You knew how much he had wanted Robin to be there, how much it would have meant to him. The absence of his sister was a heavy weight, a shadow on what should have been a perfect day.

As you reached the altar, Sunday extended his hand to you, and you took it, feeling the warmth of his touch. For a moment, you hesitated, the sadness in your chest still lingering. But Sunday, ever perceptive, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His smile remained, unwavering, as if to say that despite everything, this was still your moment—your day, together.

Welt gently released your arm, stepping back with a nod of approval. You and Sunday stood face to face, the world falling away until it was just the two of you. His eyes searched yours.

Your eyes met Sunday's, You saw a flash of amazement. His lips moved a little but only called your name after a while.

"Y/n.."

You met his golden eyes that reflected you. He held your hand more tightly, then leaned in and whispered in your ears.

"I'm with you, Everything will be okay."

The wedding March was playing...You tried to ignore the heat on your face which was caused by Sunday's leaning close to you, and you even wanted to rub your itchy ears. You held a bouquet of flowers in one hand, the other tightly gripped by him. You could see the irrepressible smile at the corner of his lips, just like you at the moment.

The priest smiled kindly at you and Sunday, then started according to the lines.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here, today in the presence of these witnesses to join Sunday and Y/n in matrimony..." The priest spoke seriously and slowly. As you were listening nervously, you felt your palms being scratched.

You glanced at Sunday standing next to you, but he looked composed.

"....I would be asking who gives this woman to be married to this man"

After the priest finished asking, Sunday immediately turned to look at you, his eyes full of expectation, as if they were glowing. Like the sun.... You forgot you existed for a moment.

He was pretty, He was really pretty, It was a smile you saw back when he was trying to befriend you.

You remembered the embarrassing line. Facing Sunday's scorching gaze, your voice became softer and softer.

"..I am marrying him at my own free will, with the blessings of all people."

"Now the groom can take the oath." Hearing this, you tried to withdraw your right hand clenched by Sunday but failed, so you could only lower your eyes to avoid his gaze.

"I take you to be my wedded wife.." The sounds from above your head was more serious than ever. Your heart was racing.

Before the oath was finished, Sunday stopped, and remained silent for the next two seconds.

You raised your eyes, astonished, but was caught off guard and got immersed in the gentle golden eyes of his.

He looked at you gently, and the sincerity and tenderness in his eyes were enough to seize anyone who was gazed by him.

"Y/n, from now on, I'll forever love and cherish you, and you will always be my everything." He was solemnly giving you the promise of a lifetime.

A light kiss fell on the back, and the touch like a thin feather penetrated the thin fabric and directly reached the bottom of your heart.

The moment hung in the air, charged with emotion as Sunday's soft kiss on the back of your hand sent a shiver down your spine. The sincerity in his voice echoed in your mind, each word he spoke wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. You felt as if time itself had slowed, the world narrowing to just the two of you standing before the altar.

The priest, sensing the significance of the moment, gave a gentle nod before continuing, his voice steady and filled with reverence. "And now, Y/n," he began, his gaze meeting yours, "do you take Sunday to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

The question was the one you had been anticipating, yet now that it was here, it felt monumental, as if the weight of those words carried all the hopes and dreams you and Sunday had ever shared.

You felt your pulse quicken, your hand still tightly held by Sunday's warm grasp. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mixture of love, hope, and something deeper—an unspoken bond that had been forged through all the trials and joys you had faced together.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, allowing the significance of the moment to settle into your bones. You looked up at Sunday, meeting his golden eyes that reflected nothing but pure affection.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady and clear despite the emotions swirling inside you. "I do."

The words left your lips with a sense of finality, yet also with the promise of new beginnings. As they echoed through the space, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and certainty wash over you. This was where you were meant to be, by Sunday's side, forever.

The priest smiled warmly at your response and then turned his attention to Sunday. "And do you, Sunday, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Sunday's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and you saw his expression soften even more. He didn't hesitate, didn't waver.

"I do," he answered, his voice filled with a quiet, yet unshakable resolve. The conviction in his words was as solid as the ground beneath your feet, anchoring you both in this pivotal moment.

The priest nodded, satisfied with the exchange of vows. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Sunday's eyes lit up with a joy that was almost childlike, a smile spreading across his face that you couldn't help but mirror. He stepped closer, gently lifting your veil as the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his feelings, he cupped your face in his hands, leaning in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away if you weren't ready.

But you were ready. More than anything, you wanted to seal this moment, this promise, with him.

When his lips finally met yours, it was like everything else faded away. The kiss was soft, full of love and warmth, a perfect culmination of everything you both had felt up to this point. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a vow, a declaration that you were each other's, now and forever.

As you pulled away, the applause of the guests filled the air, but all you could focus on was Sunday's face, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world.

Your gaze drifted downward, your hands still resting in Sunday's. The day had been a whirlwind, everything happening so quickly that it felt almost surreal. And yet, amidst all the chaos, there was a quiet moment of clarity. Today was your birthday, a day that had always been marked by personal reflection, by considering the passage of time and the paths taken. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that it would also become your wedding day.

The thought brought a soft smile to your lips. This was the greatest gift you could have received, something far beyond material value. It was a gift of love, of commitment, of a future that you and Sunday would build together. Maybe you would start to see this day differently from now on, not just as a celebration of another year gone by, but as a celebration of the life you were creating with him.

You glanced back up at Sunday, who was watching you with a gentle, curious expression, as if he could sense the shift in your thoughts. His hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the present moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence chase away any lingering doubts. "I'm more than okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... happy."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. "Good. That's all I ever wanted for you."

You clenched the gauze on the gown unconsciously, forgetting what you should say. Everything around seemed to disappear, leaving only you both!

Sunday wore a silver-gray suit and a bow tie which he seldom wore. He had a corset at the left side of his shirt.

"Actually.." He whispered in your ear. "Although I really want to control myself and act more mature and reliable. I have to say You look beautiful today. I don't have to control these feelings anymore. I feel free so....Is this the real meaning of freedom?" His straightforward compliment and warm breath in your ears was like soft leather. slowly and gently tickling your heart.

"This wedding gown is a signature design, It was given free for the Astral Express for this day and I guess I can keep it."

"I'm not talking about the wedding gown." Sunday shook his head, and squeezed your palm, as if venting his anger.

"The point is you look so beautiful in a wedding gown than I imagined."

"Stop exaggerating!"

"I'm not!" He denied seriously, his tone affirmative, which sounded like a little lost child denying he stole sugar.

"Y/n, you should compliment me too...Even Stelle said I'm handsome, Is there any problem? Is the tie too much? Is my face good? Do I look clean? Um-"

"You, You look more than perfect today, You're always perfect but today you're....more than perfect.." You patted his head.

That's it, Your Blushing Sunday has returned! his wings covered his face and he showed a thumbs up.

"Time to photoshoot!" March chimed in, pulling you aside.

Sunday muttered discontent, looking for comfort from you. Outside the church, the lucid water of the fountain pool reflected the white and the clear sky and the verdant lawn stretched to the edge of the woods.

"Y/n!, Stay where you're, Sunday, stand behind her and lift her veil.." With the previous emotions still lingering in your mind, you followed the camerawoman's instructions and posed for intimate wedding photo with Sunday awkwardly.

March was the 'camerawoman' you knew you won't last long.

"Come closer! Closer!" March kept gesturing and kept repeating the word 'closer' which made you a bit alarmed.

"Like this?" Sunday held you in his arms from behind, resting his shin on your shoulder, and the moment his face touched yours through the veil, you trembled.

All your senses were occupied by his warmth and breath. Your heartbeat was so fast that you nearly had a heart attack.

"Y/n, don't be so stiff! Act naturally, just like before." You nodded, trying to force a smile, you knew how stiff your expression was even without looking.

"Are you nervous?" You heard Sunday's soft voice and didn't deny it after slight hesitation.

"A, a little bit. Not much." But actually even your voice was trembling. "

Actually, I'm also a bit nervous." He sighed with relief, and the rising tone dispelled and the unnatural atmosphere between you. "But, knowing you're feeling the same, I'm not so nervous now." He pointed at himself and smiled his usual bright smile.

"You can think of me as a little bear hugging you. You never have to nervous in front of me." You were stunned. the camera in front of you seemed not to exist, and the arms around you were still warm as always.

The awkwardness and uneasiness seemed to be swept away. and you couldn't help laughing out loud.

"Yeah, just keeping being happy like this! I believe you can do it, Y/n!"

Amazingly, the tension and anxiety disappeared.

"That's it!  Change a pose!" You glanced behind you. The blue fountain pool reflected the pure white church, and the golden decoration on the steeple stone in the sunlight. You looked back to find Sunday was sitting cross-legged on the grass, smiling at you.

The bouquet of roses was on him and light spots seemed to be dancing on his fluffy blue hair. Suddenly you naughtily decided to scatter a handful of lily petals on him.

"Hey y/n!  What are you doing!" He widened his eyes, yelled and before you could dodge, he had gently caught your naughty fingers.

The spring sunlight sprinkled softly, and your laughter seemed to blend into beauty of spring. When you didn't notice, March had captured the scene under the sunlight.

The bell in the church suddenly rang, and the fountain spurted water into his air, which started the pigeons resting by the pool. The water drops on the grass reflected the brilliant sunlight, and the whole scene was captured in the last photo.

March nodded and was finally satisfied.

"My lady, shall we go somewhere together?"

Sunday reached out a hand and made an inviting gesture, his jewel-like staring straight at you. you couldn't refuse.

You raised your hands and tossed the bouquet that symbolized happiness randomly.

It landed on Mr. Yang's head and he caught it. March howled. Himeko giggled Stelle took a photo Dan Heng was trying to hold his smile.

Welt tossed it to another young lady, saying he's already married in a secret code. It attracted a bunch of shouts and laughter,

"Let's go!" You smiled and put your hand in Sunday's palm, only to see him wink at you.

"Y/n, hold onto me."

"What? Ahhh!" Before you could ask, you felt your feet suddenly lifted off the ground. you screamed and had to hold onto the 'culprit' tightly.

As if he had already guessed your reacting , Sunday smiled and set off towards the destination, his soft wings brushing your cheeks naughtily from time to time.

"Wait, I do have legs."

Hearing the burst of laughter behind you, you blushed, waving your arms to protest. But Sunday, who always left room for negotiation was very determined this time.

"It's hard to walk in high heels on this road, So please be patient!" He had no intention on putting down and walked up the gravel path all the way through the flower gates with you. The soft light spots and the shadows of the flowers fell on both from time to time. and the warm breeze gently brought the music from afar.

Sunday who had you in his arms also hummed the tune and his version of the romantic self. So, that was the book he was reading..?

You both finally arrived at the destination. Sunday stopped and put you under the flower rack. Following where he pointed, you could see green mountains surrounding a tranquil blue lake in the distance.

The white birds swept past the sparkling water surface, and then flew high in the wind into the sky.

"It's so beautiful.." It reminded of something else, Sorry y/n! This is not that game!

Involuntarily exclaiming, you turned around to look at Sunday who was sitting side by side with you on the grass.

"Did you bring me here to show me this?"

"Not just this." He mysteriously dragged his tone.

"It's also because...this is the best place for the 'bride' and 'groom'."

"I'm not Dr Mei tho."

"What?"

"Nothing." He spread his arms and leaned back, lying on your lap before you could react, The weight and warmth on your legs were so real that you couldn't help looking down at him, the veil that slipped from your shoulders dropped on his face.

"Oh." Seeing his serious look turning into a frown, you burst into laughter and reached out to lift the veil.

Before you even touched his face, he grasped your hand and your fingers tightly intertwined. Sunday lifted the veil gently and gazed at you intently with his golden eyes, you could see your reflection in his eyes, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/n, did you enjoy the day?" You were stunned by his serious expression and couldn't control your heartbeat from accelerating upon hearing his question. You were at loss and tried to avert his gaze.

The flower fragrance lazily lingered in the air. In the warm sunshine, in the small space under the veil, only Sunday was in your sight.

You had nowhere to hide, and no longer wanted to, so you nodded slowly.

"I did." After hesitating for a few seconds, you asked him quietly. "Why didn't you want to invite Robin? I heard Himeko and March talking about it while they were dressing me up.."

"It's because...she has a concert and it's important for her career, I simply did not wish to bother her. I asked Miss March to send the images tho. That's why we had a photo session that long in the first place."

"Is there a reason why you avoid her?"

"...It's just- I don't want to be sad on my wedding day, you know. I'll explain later."

"Of course, I understand." He couldn't talk, As she not only gave up penacony for his freedom it was their relationship. Eternal separation, is doomed on them. It involves her public image too. He would push himself away as he wouldn't want to hurt her. ,Being seen with the person who tried to put penacony into a sweet dream would be seen as an outrageous act by the media. He may be a morally grey villain but the public will always see him as a pure black villain for what he did, never knowing his true intentions.

Being so close yet being so different, One follows harmony, One followed Order. The one failed in everything it was given to. Sunday could never let Robin see him again. No matter how he changes, he can't change what he did in the past.

As you sat there, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of flowers around you, Sunday's hand found its way to your cheek. His touch was soft, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly. You looked down at him, confusion and curiosity swirling in your eyes, trying to understand the emotions behind his gaze.

Before you could even form a question, Sunday's other hand slid behind your head, his fingers threading through your hair. With a firm but gentle pull, he brought you down to him, closing the distance between your lips.

The world seemed to fall away as his lips met yours, the kiss deepening almost immediately. It was slow at first, a tender exploration, but then his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing you into a more passionate rhythm. He was insistent, his lips moving with a deliberate intensity that made your heart race.

There were no words exchanged, none were needed. The kiss spoke volumes, a silent conversation of desire and affection that neither of you could articulate otherwise. His hands held you in place, one tangled in your hair, the other still caressing your cheek as if to keep you anchored to him, to this moment.

You felt your own hands responding instinctively, one resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, the other gripping his arm as if you needed something to hold onto, something to ground you in the overwhelming sensations that were coursing through you.

Sunday's kiss was hungry, his lips demanding, as if he were trying to memorize the taste of you, the feel of you. He didn't break the kiss, didn't pause, just continued to deepen it, his tongue dancing with yours in a way that left you breathless. The world outside the veil of flowers and sunlight ceased to exist, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you two.

When he finally pulled back, it was only to let you catch your breath, but he didn't let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily, your lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. His golden eyes searched yours, filled with an emotion so deep, so profound, that it made your chest tighten.

"Y/n..." he murmured your name, his voice husky, filled with something raw and unspoken. He didn't say anything else, just held you there, his gaze locked with yours as if trying to convey everything he felt without words. And in that moment, you understood. He didn't need to say anything; his actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Sunday's fingers continued to trace the contours of your face, his touch gentle but firm, as if grounding himself in the moment. His eyes softened, but a shadow of something more complex—something darker—passed through them. He let out a deep sigh, his gaze turning distant as he began to speak.

"You know," he began, his voice low and reflective, "I was always a bit of a control freak. Back when I was the leader of the Oak family, everything had to be done my way, according to my vision. I thought I knew what was best for everyone, and I couldn't tolerate anything that deviated from my idea of perfection."

His hand slipped from your cheek to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing back and forth absently. "I believed that a society where only the strong survive, where the fittest rule and the weak are left behind, would never reach true happiness. The world is so full of pain, of suffering, and I couldn't stand it. I wanted to protect people from that—at any cost."

He paused, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "That's why I became so obsessed with the Order. I genuinely believed that by creating a dream world—a place where people could escape the harshness of reality and live in peace, even if it meant never waking up—I could save them from all that suffering. I wasn't driven by malice, Y/n. I truly wanted to protect people from the pain I saw around me."

His expression hardened slightly as he continued, "But I know now that my perspective on humanity was... pessimistic, to say the least. I believed that people had an innate desire to escape their pain, to avoid the harsh truths of life. And in some ways, I still do. But I also know that escaping reality isn't the answer. In that dream world, people wouldn't grow, wouldn't learn from their struggles. They'd be trapped in a painless illusion, and while that might seem like a kindness, it's really just another form of control."

Sunday's voice softened as he squeezed your hand. "I see now that my beliefs were shaped by the Order, by the Dreammaster who indoctrinated me from such a young age. The scriptures I followed, the ideals I held onto so tightly—they weren't mine. They were something drilled into me, and I didn't even realize it. Robin noticed it too; she saw things in my diary that she had never been taught."

He sighed again, a mix of regret and resignation in his eyes. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but in trying to shield people from pain, I was just trying to control them, to impose my will on their lives. I was wrong, Y/n. And I'm trying to be better now, to let go of that need for control, to trust in the strength of others to find their own way, even if it means they'll get hurt along the way."

"......Sunday?"

"Hey y/n..? What did you think about me when we were all against each other? You looked so pissed off at me, If I remember? Not complaining, I wasn't the best person. I was cunning and betrayed your trust, You were the first one who stood during that time and I made you feel sad didn't I?" 

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you remembered  "You pissed me off so much, Sunday," you admitted, your voice light with teasing, though there was an edge of truth to it. You leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose, the simple gesture bringing a smile to his face.

He laughed softly, but there was still a trace of unease in his eyes as he looked at you. "I figured as much," he murmured, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met your eyes again. "I remember how I was back then, always trying to control everything... even the way you drank your tea."

You couldn't help but laugh at the memory. "Oh, I remember. You must've corrected me over ten times about the 'proper' way to hold the cup and sip. It was so infuriating," you said with a smirk, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

Sunday grinned sheepishly. "I was a bit obsessed with doing things the 'right' way, wasn't I?"

"A bit?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow playfully. But as the laughter subsided, a more serious thought crossed your mind. You remembered the look on his face back then, the rare moments when the mask of control slipped, and he seemed almost... vulnerable.

For a moment, you just looked at him, dead in the eyes, letting the weight of his question settle between you. Finally, you spoke, your voice steady and clear. "I thought you were lost. Lost in your need for control, in your fear of letting things go. But despite everything, I also saw the good in you, Sunday. I saw someone who wanted to protect others, even if your methods were... misguided."

He swallowed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "And now?" he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You smiled gently, leaning in closer. "Now, I see someone who's trying. Someone who's learning to let go, to trust, to love. And that's enough for me."

Sunday's eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing.

You took a deep breath, letting the weight of your thoughts settle between you both. As you looked at Sunday, his golden eyes searching yours, you began to speak, your voice soft yet unwavering.

"Sunday, you're the most selfless selfish man I've ever known," you began, watching as a flicker of surprise crossed his face. "You have this unwavering determination to save everyone, even if it means sacrificing yourself. But in doing so, you take away another's choice, all in the name of liberation."

His expression tightened, as if the truth of your words cut deep. But you continued, knowing that this was something he needed to hear.

"You're a cynical man, trapped in a birdcage with open doors, yet unable to take that leap of faith because of fear—fear of what could be, fear of the unknown," you said, your voice growing more tender. "No one ever stood by you, offered you solace, comfort, or a different point of view. That's why you wanted to become a god yourself, the one who could offer solace to others. You wanted to give people what you never had."

He looked down, his hand tightening around yours, his features etched with a sorrowful understanding. "I just wanted to protect people," he whispered, almost to himself. "To create a world where no one would have to suffer like I did."

"And you're not wrong," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of empathy and conviction. "Everything you've said about the world is true. In a perfect world, you could create systemic changes, elevate people and systems so no one would have to suffer. But the world is cruel, Sunday. We don't have to look far to see how terrible life can be for some, while others go on their merry way."

His eyes met yours again, filled with a deep, conflicted sadness. "But since it can't be achieved in reality," you continued, "you tried to create a dream reality, a place where people could live better, where they wouldn't have to face the harshness of life. You wanted to give them an escape."

You paused, letting the words sink in, seeing the turmoil in his gaze. "But this is a hero's story," you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "The Trailblazer and the others had to fight back because people need stories that confirm it's worth fighting for, that it's worth hoping for a better life in reality. It's a message we need to cope with life, to keep going. Because if you stare too long into the cruelty of this world, your kindness will destroy you."

Sunday's hand trembled slightly in yours, and you squeezed it gently, grounding him in the moment. "In our world, we can't do anything about that cruelty," you said softly. "But in this world, you tried to make a dreamscape where people could live in dignity. You wanted to give them a chance to escape, to find solace in a place where they wouldn't have to suffer."

His voice was a whisper when he finally spoke. "But is that right? To take away their reality for a dream?"

You looked at him, your eyes filled with understanding. "If what you're doing was possible in our world, you'd have to ask yourself, is this cruel world worth protecting? Do we have the right to tear away a good dream life from people who are starving, who are living in perpetual war, or who are just trapped in unlivable circumstances?"

He looked at you, his gaze intense, searching for an answer.

"We can't say that living in a dream is terrible when some people would choose that over their reality," you continued. "Reality is just perception. It's something we label as 'real' because we all agree on it. But why is our perception of reality better than a dream? In the end, we all die the same. Everything is just in our heads."

Sunday's eyes softened, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as he listened to you.

"And you," you said, your voice dropping to a tender whisper, "you couldn't escape from the cage you were trapped in because you were so scared of what would happen. That cage was your understanding of the world. To step out of it, to embrace something different, is terrifying. A bird with clipped wings will always be scared to fly, even if the cage door is open."

You reached out, gently cupping his cheek. "But if that bird is given the time and space to heal, its feathers will grow back. And that's what you've done, Sunday. By coming with the Astral Express, you've started to heal, little by little. You're taking that step towards something new, something unknown, and that's incredibly brave."

Sunday closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. Neither of you spoke for a while. You could hear the piano music in the distance. Sunday let go of your hand, leaned forward, and caged you between him and the flower rack.

"I used to think that a lifetime is a very long time, I realized that in a dream it is a long time too. You're just living the same happy, peaceful day again. but after I met you, it had become very short."

"Why?"

"Of course it's because of you, Because I want to spend every moment of my life with you." His breath was closer, and the flower fragrance seemed stronger, and you almost ran out of breath.

He stopped, gently pressing his forehead against you, and looked at you intently, saying gentle and solemnly.

"Y/n L/n, I thank the Aeons that made them reserve this ring finger for me, for the wedding ring." He lowered his head and kissed the root of your ring finger which had the ring he gave to himeko.

"I solemnly vow that you will forever be my happiness and joy...As long we both shall live."

It's said the vein on the ring finger, called 'vena amoris'. reaches the heart directly. At this moment, this might be true.

The force of the kiss and the deep love of this vow seemed to fill your blood. and they flowed straight into your heart through the vein, surging and wandering in your chest restlessly.

"Now the groom may kiss the bride."

Sunday imitated the wedding officiant's solemn tone, then raised his hand and placed the veil behind your ears, and leaned in close to you.

The light and soft touch lingered on your lips with his scorching breath. You closed your eyes and felt Sunday's existence more clearly than ever before.

[knightjpg]

landslide | chapter 3

chapter tags: (light) stalking, alcohol/alcohol consumption, reader has a toxic boyfriend

prev | next

Just the one time. 

You won't even notice, Ghost reasons to himself. He'll just be another spectre haunting London; a phantom passing through. Just once. Just to see— 

To soothe. Yes, that's what it is. He's just fulfilling a final duty, a tribute to the woman who made his brother smile like he'd never seen a day of hardship in his life. 

It's not hard to track you down. Years may have gone by, but Ghost has a photo, a name, and a bloodhound's tenacity for sniffing out the details. The anonymous bustle of London loses out against his patience, and really, people are creatures of habit. They seek comfort in the known; in their routine. 

Ghost observes yours. From afar, at first—a shadow lurking in alleyways you give a wide berth to. This is good. This is how it's meant to be. We get dirty, Price's voice echoes in his skull. So the world stays— 

After a week it gets harder to justify. You're alive and well. Have a steady job and a roof over your head. A boyfriend. You're not rude enough to drunk twats calling after you when get off work, but you clutch the closest thing to pepper spray in your hand after dark.  

Smart girl. 

It's time to step away. Simon died; a tombstone doesn't fit into the constraints of your daily life. He's let go before. He can—has to—do it again. 

“Sure, honey. Whatever you say.” 

... 

Just— 

Just the one time. 

Ghost pretends he's doing a stakeout. There's a mission, and there's a target. Simple. Easy. Muscle memory. 

When you walk through the café door, bell jingling against the wood, he's supposed to be casual. Uninterested; aloof—just another guy getting his daily fix. He knows he stands out with his bulk, but it's London: who's going to care? No one's going to think twice about his being here. He just has to keep it cool, go through the motions of reading his book without picking up any of the words. Then, naturally, look up— 

(sure, honey—) 

—and. Fuck. He is so unprepared. 

You keep your hair a little shorter these days. Still no ring on your finger—Simon breathes out slow—but a pendant around your neck has taken up a fixed presence. A gift? It's hard to tell. 

You're a little older, sure, but you're so— 

You're so... 

He ducks his head just in time, ballcap throwing his face into shadow to avoid your curious glance. Caught staring. He curses at himself—is he a fucking professional or what? 

Your name is called out, and you take your order with a grateful thanks. Ghost chances a peek while you're preoccupied. 

Christ. You're so pretty. 

Not just pretty—beautiful. Not like how he remembers, but also exactly how he remembers. The way you shift your weight, the quick gesture of your head when you shake the hair out of your face. Your smile, a flash of teeth. 

It's a perfect fit. A lost puzzle piece slots into place, lines up a bridge between the past with the present— 

“Oh, I'm so glad you're here,” you tell him with a sigh, plopping down heavily in the chair beside him. “If anyone asks me to dance I have a sprained ankle, okay?” 

Simon gives you a solemn nod, eyes sliding from the dancefloor to your figure bending down to untie your shoes. Your hair is done up beautifully for today, and he's overcome with the desire to reach out and touch the nape of your neck. 

He forces it down and watches Tommy and Beth swaying to a slow song, eyes closed. You sigh, flexing your toes. 

“Hurt?” Simon asks. 

“Just tired,” you smile. “Beth's cousin are nice, but every time I sit they—oh, God, there's one of them.” 

You unsuccessfully try to hide behind Simon's broad shoulders. One of your hands presses against his arm for balance, small imprint of warm through his nicest white blouse. 

Simon's heart lurches. He leans into your touch like a lodestone. 

“She's got a sprained ankle, mate,” he tells Beth's cousin before he can open his mouth. “Gotta rest.” 

The boy swallows a thinly veiled tsk when Simon speaks up, then tries again. “I'm sorry, love, was I too rough on you? Do you want me to get you ice? Or a drink? Or—” 

“Got it handled here,” Simon cuts in curtly.  

Simon likes Beth. Likes her family fine, too—he and Tommy grew up on a low bar, but still he can see they're alright folk. And Simon would never start shit on their wedding day. He's got better manners than that. 

But people get caught up in weddings, spurred on by booze and a festive mood. They grow loose-lipped, handsy, jovial. 

Simon's more than happy to put cousin what'shisname in his place should he forget it. 

The cousin lingers for a moment, but eventually tucks his tail between his legs and sets off to the drinks bar. Simon eyes his retreat warily. 

“Oh,” you sigh, sagging against Simon's back for a moment before pulling yourself upright. “Thanks so much. You're my hero.” 

—a wildflower in his barren desertscape. 

 

He'd wondered if it would hurt any more than it does every other day of his life. A living, breathing reminder of everything that he's lost; Ghost is not immune to pain. Even corpses bleed. 

He finds it doesn't matter. Whatever he might have felt is drowned out by something else, a lighthouse smacking him in the face with the same blinding light he chased when he crawled out of the dirt— 

Familiar. Quickly followed by, mine. Something that earns its intimacy simply by being known; hauntingly so, but he wants it. Wants to have it, wants to allow himself this smidge of nostalgia. 

(You're my hero.) 

Self-denial pushed to the extreme rebounds off the wall and crashes against him like a wave. Saltwater mixes with old dusty sediment, rips out dead old roots as it pulls him down, a landslide— 

And it's trouble. Ghost knows it. But— 

He's always had an appetite for the thrill of danger, careful, might get hurt;  

and he figures one more scar won't make much of a difference. 

----------

The alcohol tastes bitter on your tongue. You swirl the liquid in your glass and wish you could jump into the miniature whirlpool; to simply let the disappointment and the hurt and the insecurity all be washed away.  

Your phone beep...beep...beeps until: 

“The person you are attempting to call cannot be reached at this time. To leave a message, press—” 

You shove it back in your pocket with an angry twist of your mouth. That's four times for this month alone. How many was it last month? And the one before that? 

Maybe you should stop counting. 

The alcohol does the opposite from soothing your bad mood. You know your limits and steer clear of that line; over the years you've found it's never worth the headache or the nausea the next day.  

Another drink and things will start getting fuzzier, which means it's time to call a friend or a cab and leave. Be smart. Be careful. 

Your fingers dig into the glass. You stay seated on your stool.  

Maybe you should've accepted when a bloke offered you a drink. Sorry, you'd smiled. Waiting for my boyfriend. 

Fuck your boyfriend. 

The spite sours as soon as it wells up, leaving guilt in its wake. What's wrong with you? You'd never cheat on Dave. You've been the subject of that kind of betrayal too often; know the pain too well. You won't be that kind of person. 

You down the last of your drink, just about to get up when a large man wearing a dark hoodie seats himself on the stool next to you. 

You pause. It's not busy; there's plenty of empty stools to choose from. Coincidence or a sign of interest? Would it be rude to leave immediately after he's sat down?  

Would it be worse to wait for him to say something instead? 

Hesitation lies heavily in your stomach, alcohol and loneliness making you feel unsure, slow. The indecision keeps your eyes down on your empty glass while you fiddle with a coaster and tell yourself to stop being so self-absorbed. It doesn't mean anything; it's not about you. People can come to the bar just for a— 

“Drink?” the stranger asks you. 

Your eyes flit up. 

He's wearing a ballcap—go Manchester—which, under the dim lights of the bar, obscures most of his features. Still, you catch the end tail of a nasty scar running down his cheek. 

This is where trepidation should come in. A sixth sense of self-preservation telling you in red letters do not touch. Do not go here. 

Do not trespass. 

But: 

something about him is familiar.  

Maybe that's why you're less guarded. Less careful. You're lonely, abandoned, stood up; one last drink won't hurt. Will it? Because, really— 

It's just a drink, you tell yourself. If he tries anything you'll make a scene.  

God knows you've got plenty of pent-up anger to let loose. 

“Sure, okay,” you say, and the man waves the bartender over. You watch him pour the drink, and offer the stranger a half-hearted smile as you raise your glass in cheers. 

“You alone?” 

“I have a boyfriend,” you say, trying for casual nonchalance and ending up somewhere close to abandoned cat on the roadside. There's even a tremor at the end of your voice to go with it. 

And you thought tonight wouldn't get any more pathetic. 

The man tilts his head. “He gonna come pick y’up?” 

You tap your phone's screen out of habit: no notifications. You shake your head. The bar suddenly feels too loud, too sharp; too real. You realise that until now you'd still clung to the idea that Dave's caller ID would pop up any moment, that any second the next face walking into the bar would be his. 

It's not going to happen. 

You know it's not. But all by yourself you could still believe—lure yourself into the protective delusion that Dave wouldn't stand you up again. Not after missing your anniversary dinner, surely. 

Your throat closes against a sob clawing its way up. Christ. You try to wrestle it down, cover your quivering lips with a hand. You're drunk. Drunk and acting like an idiot— 

Your stranger does a little hum. “He a twat?” 

The delivery is so dry you hiccup a strange laugh-sob. “Some—sometimes. Maybe it's my fault. I don't know what I—” You stop yourself and breathe. Cling to the shred of sobriety left in you. “Sorry. You don't care about any of this.” 

The bloke shifts on his stool, turning his torso more towards you and leaning one of his big forearms on the tacky bar as he does. The end of a tattoo sleeve peeks out from his hoodie, abstract lines old and sun-faded.  

“Could listen.” 

You blink, and— 

there's your apartment, your front door, the jingle of keys. Body moving on autopilot, dropping bag and shoes and slumping onto your bed. 

Your mind is slow, hazy; muddled by fatigue and cocktails. How'd you get home again? 

A flash of obnoxious radio music. The dangle of car freshener against a dark windshield. 

That's right. Had one drink too much, and called— 

You frown against your sheets. Called... 

A low voice in your ear, telling you to mind your feet. Not Dave—bigger than Dave. One strong arm keeping you from wobbling, and the other opening the door to a cab. Smelled nice. Safe. A friend? 

“I saw Simon's boots in the hall. Did he stop by?” 

“He did. Came to save me from Tommy's hovering.” 

You finish pouring Beth's smoothie—thick, fruity, calorie-dense—and hand it to her. She sighs in relief, carefully shifting in her seat so she doesn't jostle Joseph while she's breastfeeding. 

“Thanks so much. God,” and she takes a big sip, “that's good. Everyone tells you breastfeeding makes you hungry, but oh my god, it makes you hungry.” 

You laugh a little, patting her leg. “You're doing great, mumma.” 

“I hope so.” Beth looks down at Joseph, stroking his blond wispy hairs. “We're thinking about moving. Not for a while, but—maybe next year.” Beth gestures to the little flat apartment. “Tommy's been doing really well at work, and we want Joseph to be able to run around in a yard.” 

As if summoned, the front door opens and closes. Boots thump against the doormat; the coathanger rattles with the weight of thick padded jackets. 

“I think that's a lovely idea,” you smile. “Just let me know and I'll help.” 

Beth's face softens. “Thank you.” 

She looks exhausted, but extraordinarily happy at the same time. You're so happy for her—so happy for both of them—yet can't help the occasional tug of envy. You're not sure if you want children, not yet, but the look of devotion in Tommy's eyes when he crosses the room to kiss Beth and Joseph's cheeks is hard not to want for yourself. 

“Alright?” 

You lift your eyes to Simon. He looks freshly windswept from their walk, hair mussed and cheeks ruddy. For some reason it makes you feel— 

You duck your head, nodding. “Yeah.”  

You suddenly feel a little shy, out of place. To give yourself something to do you collect empty cups to put away—and stumble on one of Joseph's toys lying around. 

Simon's arm shoots out to steady you, and in your attempt to balance yourself you bump headfirst into his chest. You quickly remove yourself, cheeks burning. 

“Thanks...” 

In between dreaming and waking, the memory of a voice murmurs in your ear;  

“Steady now.” 

----------

Ghost watches the cab drive away with a pensive expression. 

You're not happy. 

He watched you for over an hour, his pretty lonely girl sipping fruity cocktails at the bar. Waiting for the ungrateful cunt to bother showing up. 

Because your boyfriend is an ungrateful cunt, going by the way you nearly cried into his arms. Simon hadn't been privy to the details, lived off second-hand stories from Tommy and sometimes Beth, and there's too many gaps in his memories to be sure. 

But he knows— 

I'm tired of the shitty boyfriends. 

Beth's playful smile loops in his head. Ghost feels sorry for you, and yet— 

some sick part of him is pleased.  

Relieved. 

You need him. Haven't learned yet to winnow the wheat from the chaff; can't see that your precious time and effort is wasted on undeserving shits. 

Tonight was supposed to be the last time; a final goodbye. Closure for the dead. That last push he needed to stop himself from reaching out and saying it's me— 

Simon. 

But this changes things. Ghost turns his back on the night, and disappears into the shadows. 

It's time to make some phone calls.