Retail Therapy. Ft Sunday

— retail therapy. ft sunday

— warnings: slight angst if you squint hard enough

— author's note: self-indulgent stellaron hunter sunday after playing the new tb quest. ~2.4k words.

“is this…” sunday gestures with his hands, “also part of our script?”

you let out a laugh. balancing firefly and kafka’s shopping bags in your hands, you only shook your head at the angel-like man with an amused smile on your lips. 

“no, it is not.” kafka was browsing the dress sections with keen interest, blade was peering over silver wolf’s shoulder watching her as she played yet another video game, and firefly was looking over the rack of new hats. “but it’s a good change of pace. you all deserve to relax after such a hard mission.”

“i don’t think this really fits my criteria of relaxation, [name].” you only laugh at sunday’s sigh. offering him a small pat on the back and dragging him by his sleeve to where kafka was beckoning you over. “you’ll get used to it eventually. next time, we’ll do something that fits your criteria of relaxation.”

the silver haired man only shook his head. but deep down you knew he was enjoying himself – the wings behind his ears often betrayed him by openly showing what he actually felt. every now and then, they would flutter and puff up whenever silver wolf drags him to another section with new games or when he tries to deny kafka’s attempt at getting him a new shirt or coat (after his wings fluttered a bit too hard at this one coat kafka bought it immediately).

“what do you think?” you ask as you put down the bags that've been weighing down on your arms. “about us, i mean, are you adjusting well?”

you notice sunday’s hesitation, you always have when it comes to him – he often wonders how wise and knowledgeable you are to know how he felt. a hum left your lips as you sat down on one of the offered chairs at the shoe section while blade reached to the top shelf to get what firefly was pointing at. 

“i…” he starts, voice just above whisper. “don’t know.”

another hum escapes your lips. scooting over to make space for him and patting the space, urging him to sit besides you. sunday does, though reluctantly, sit beside you as you watch silver wolf giggle at firefly’s struggle to walk in heels. blade’s hands hover over her figure as she stomps her way over to the shorter girl to pinch her cheeks to which she protested.

“they’re nice people.” you say, gaze never leaving them. “the galaxies may say otherwise, but they're truly the kindest people i have ever met.”

“i… apologize.”

you raise a brow at him. “what’s with the apology?” 

“i have only ever thought of the five of you as bad people.” sunday admits with a heavy heart. eyes finding much entertainment on his gloves that you had gifted. “i… do not know how to act around you all, when i’ve only ever heard bad things about you. it feels wrong to suddenly be thrusted into your already tight knit group.”

you only hum in understanding. hand coming to caress the top of his head when you stood up when blade called you over.

“we understand, mr. sunday.” you gave him a small smile as you picked up the many shopping bags you had. “these sorts of things take time, just take it one step at a time.”

he only nods. and like the gentleman that he is, steals away the heavier bags in your hands with an awkward smile.

—

“do you miss the person you were before you joined?”

you wonder if blade has ever mentioned to sunday how you loved thought evoking questions like the one he had just asked. recently, the two have been paired up a lot for missions - you’re still on the fence on whether it's a good or bad thing, but you’re leaning more towards the former. you only gave a thoughtful hum as you spooned another scoop of ice cream into your mouth.

kafka had grown bored of the dresses and shoes and wanted to get something to eat. now here you were, outside a quaint little ice cream shop as blade orders for everyone - silver wolf and firefly hiding behind the man like two kids. 

sunday was sitting in front of you, laughing silently after catching a glimpse of the two tables across from you being filled with your shopping bags. you laughed as well and when your eyes met his, sunday quickly averted his gaze towards his own cold treat.

“do i ever miss the person i was before i joined…” you echo his question. “sometimes, in the middle of the night whenever i’m feeling a bit too sentimental, i do.” a fond expression was probably present on your face as sunday hummed in acknowledgement. “i miss the comfort of my bed as i scrolled endlessly on my phone. or how a certain little creature in red would bring me tea and biscuits when i let time pass in my little workshop. i miss them every chance i get.”

yes, every chance you get, you reminisce over your past life. missing your father’s quick temper, your brother’s indifference, your mother’s absence; you missed them all, despite all their flaws and the bitterness that swam in your heart. and of course, how could you ever forget your little escapades in different planets with a seasoned adventurer and his vast knowledge of animation and travel or the little waddling of a conductor as they scold you nearly not making it back. you missed them all very dearly.

“what about you, mr. sunday? do you miss penacony?”

“would it be wrong of me… if i said no…?”

admittedly, that was the exact opposite of what you thought his answer would be.

the six of you were now in the car with you and blade driving (firefly suggested you all take two cars so you won’t have to be squeezed together in one). silver wolf was fast asleep at the back seat, using the many shopping bags as her makeshift pillows. you and sunday sat at the front, keeping a close eye on blade’s red car in front of you as you pondered what you would say next.

“i don’t think that’s the whole truth, but it’s not an entire lie either.” was your only response. from the corner of your eye, you see sunday take off his gloves and lay them on his lap. “would you like to talk about it, mr. sunday? i’m quite the exceptional listener you know.”

sunday laughed at your jesting and that made the breath you were unconsciously holding escape you. 

“penacony, as beautiful as it was,” he fiddles with his fingers as his wings came to cover half his face - a habit you picked up on whenever he started to open up. “it was simply too much for me.”

staying silent and when sunday looked at you, you simply nod. urging him to continue.

“the flashy city lights, the ever echoing of upbeat music, to many, penacony is a paradise where nothing could go wrong,” sunday sags in his seat, “but i often wonder if it ever gets too much for them. even though i have lived my entire life in the land of festivities, i could not bring myself to enjoy the thrill and joy it offered.”

“no matter how many times i bury these feelings of guilt, they always resurface whenever…”

“whenever?” you slowly try to coax it out of him. like how a parent would to their child.

“they always resurface whenever… i find myself enjoying your company too much.” you try to hide your shock when you take a right turn. “is it truly alright for me to just leave all of penacony behind? as overwhelming it was, it offered a roof over my head. food on my table. a family.”

soft patters of rain as small droplets of water cascaded down the now slightly fogged up windows of your car. “would you like my personal opinion on this matter, mr. sunday?” the car skids to a stop as the traffic light glows red. sunday only nodded solemnly. “you have every right to not miss penacony.”

his gold eyes were furrowed in distraught. gaze boring into the side of your head as the car started moving again. “yes, penacony offered a roof over your head and food on your table, but everyone has that right. even us, stellaron hunters, the most wanted criminals across star systems, have the right to have a home. did penacony ever feel like home to you, mr. sunday?”

“no. not it has not.” sunday replies after a few moments of silence.

“just because a roof is over your head and food is served on your table doesn’t automatically make it a home.” your eyes hardened, grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly. “a home is supposed to make you feel safe, not obligated to repay their so-called “kindness”. you don’t have to feel guilty for not wanting to come back to the place that had caused you pain.”

“and what of my sister, robin?” he suddenly counters. you knew from little snippets from kafka that robin was a bit of a sensitive topic with him. “am i really allowed to enjoy this new life of mine knowing that she’s still in the family’s clutches?” his voice hardened, but at the same time it quivered and broke. “what right do i have to this newfound happiness when she could be struggling? for aeon’s sake,” he messily pushes his hair away from his face. you try not to focus on the stray tears that fell from his eyes, “i’m her older brother, her protector. she should be the one here, spending time with you and enjoying the life she’s always wanted.”

“miss robin is destined for greatness and a happy life,” stopping at another traffic light, you look over to sunday, “but so are you. i do not know the pain and turmoil your adoptive father has made you go through, but you will never be free if you keep holding on to the past.”

“i don’t think being a stellaron hunter and a wanted criminal is what you call greatness.” sunday jokes with a low chuckle making you roll your eyes.

you trained your sight on the road again. “it’s not easy to break out of whatever gopher wood has taught you,” the way you spat his adoptive father’s name with such venom made sunday wonder if you had personally met him. “but if, theoretically, we had offered you to join us earlier and to sneak you out of penacony, miss robin would be the first person to urge you to take that chance. you are her older brother yes, and it's often the oldest’s job to protect the younger,” you pull up your car in the parking lot as blade, kafka, and firefly started taking the shopping bags out of the car. “but she is still your sister that wants what’s best for you, even if it means leaving penacony behind.”

the sight of blade, a man with a harsh exterior and few words, silently carry silver wolf with such care will always stir something inside of sunday. or how kafka would happily chat with firefly over the new clothes they got on today’s shopping list, promising to do a haul tomorrow morning after the older woman cooks everyone breakfast. but if there was something that pulled at his heart the most, it would be you. 

you who kindly respected his space and unwillingness to talk or socialize with the other hunters when he had been first recruited. the same you who had made him the metal wings that was now attached to his lower back - created with so much care and attentiveness sunday felt unworthy of it. you who would always be the first one to look for him whenever you were going out and extending a hand for him to take.

“everyone deserves to be happy,” you say beside him as you drop him off at the door to his room. “and that includes you, mr. sunday.”

sunday had always been treated as someone who was above everything else, that was the first thing he was taught after all. he was destined for greatness, the key to the revival of his dead aeon. so he never truly knew how to act when someone treated him as an equal. someone neither above or below anyone.

“i’m not very good with words,” sunday scoffs, thinking otherwise. “so i often convey my sincerity and comfort through actions.”

sunday feels your hand slither to the back of his neck as you slowly pull him down to your height. forcing his beating heart to still when he looks into your eyes that swam with understanding and fondness when you press both of your foreheads together.

“you can enjoy your time here, with us. you’re allowed to let go of the past and miss your sister.” your thumb rubs soothing circles on his nape, sunday feels the hairs on his arms rise. “and if you still think otherwise, then that’s also fine. breaking free from the shackles of your past isn’t easy, but you shouldn’t give up.” sunday feels the way your words leave a warm ticklish feeling on his lips, he had to fight the urge to lean into your space even more. “we want you to be happy, we want you to be here with us. so we’ll teach you how to let go. until you can do it yourself.”

sunday has seen you do this to others; after you patch up blade after a nasty fight, when you welcome kafka home, when silver wolf comes to you after a nightmare and when firefly bares her heart out to you. he finally understands why the others stuck to you closely, they showed their appreciation for you in forms of physical affections. 

involuntarily, his arms snakes around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer he feels you may decipher the way his heart beats your name. “may we stay like this for a while?” you only hum slowly when he lays his head on your shoulder. letting your comfort wash away all the guilt and frustration, even if it was just for a moment.

you catch a glimpse of kafka leaning at one of the dark walls with a knowing smile on her lips. rolling your eyes at the older woman, you bid sunday a good night with a small smile. knuckles brushing right under his eyes where phantom tears had fallen. in your mind, you can’t help but feel that your little idea of taking him shopping to brighten up his mood was a success.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

Devil's at the door

𐙚 shelter from storms.

— how is life when you're living with the stellaron hunters.

— warnings: none

— author's notes: sunday is a stellaron hunter just trust me, these can be taken as romantic or platonic except for silver wolf, hers is purely platonic. once again credits to @.cafekitsune for the banners.

𐙚 KAFKA

one day brought a record player back to headquarters after a mission. she happily skipped over to you to inquire about the spare room that hasn’t been used in years. and that’s how you got roped into decorating the said room with kafka, making it her pseudo music room whenever it's her day off. 

she even convinced you to pick up the violin and practice with her. it was hard at first - you had no past experience with playing an instrument - but kafka was patient, taking her time to teach you how to properly hold the violin, how to press on the strings correctly so it doesn’t sound strained when you glide the bow over it. more often than not, you’d call it quits after an hour and a half and simply just listen to kafka play. these were the times where she became more expressive so you cherished it.

after practice she would tell you about the local music from the planet she went to for her mission. retelling in great detail how the musician played the piece, how the crowd gathered and clapped once the person finished. you can’t help but let the growing smile on your face show. kafka doesn’t show that much emotion - a big consequence of being an emanator of the nihility - but you knew deep down that kafka was kind a person, even if the universe said otherwise.

𐙚 BLADE

is the type of person that would eat whatever you offer him without question. you were quite shocked when it first happened – you had dragged him to one of the stalls on the luofu to eat a snack and when you offered him a bite, he took it. you stood frozen in your spot as blade chewed his food, muttering a soft praise for how it was cooked and started to drag you away from the stall. a certain head of white had slowly started to approach the two of you.

when silver wolf and firefly found out, they were certainly amused, the former more so than the latter. and since then, whenever you and silver wolf would practice cooking when kafka wasn’t around, you would drag blade into the kitchen and spoon feed him the food you made. you found it endearing when his voice would grow soft whenever firefly or silver wolf offered him a spoonful of food and he’d take it without hesitation. giving constructive criticism and even assisting the three of you whenever he’s feeling nice.

though you’ve learned how not to push his buttons too much. after silver wolf accidentally (it was on purpose) put sugar instead of salt in his food, you had to pull the man back by the arm so he didn’t kill the poor girl. 

𐙚 SILVER WOLF

kafka laughed under her breath as blade groaned. there you two go again, stopping your actions whenever you pass each other in the halls just to stare, then laugh, and proceed as if nothing had happened. you don’t remember when this started or how it even came to be, it just became a silly little greeting between the two of you that made blade think the two of you were insane. but then again, who wasn’t insane in this organization?

when silver wolf first became a hunter she was quite the pissy baby, sam often left her in your care, maybe that's why you always sought out each other’s presence when it's your day offs. kafka joked how the two of you must be siblings separated by birth and that led to her dragging you into her room, a whiteboard behind her and a marker perched on her ear, trying to explain how you two were actually siblings. 

she’s grown quite attached to you, always the first one to greet you when you come back from a mission and drag you to her room so you can play video games together. time spent with each other is always fun and full of laughter, you can’t help but wish time would move slower so you could spend more time with her. when kafka comes to drag you out of her room because it was 3 am and you’ve lost track of time, you can’t help but miss the girl’s laughter as you yet again, lost your combo on one of her favorite rhythm games.

𐙚 FIREFLY

ever since you joined the stellaron hunters, sam and elio have given you full reign in being their mechanic/inventor. it was a great honor and you took pleasure whenever the hunters trusted your inventions and used them in battle. the biggest downside would probably be is being in charge of cleaning sam’s armor when missions get too rough. before you, kafka would always be the one in charge of this but after your arrival, firefly seems to only want you to clean it, especially when silver wolf tried to doodle on sam’s WHITE ARMOR with pastel markers. 

your station was always filled with easygoing chatter between you and firefly. she would tell you about how her mission went, what happened, what needed to be fixed and if there were any adjustments needed to be made. you always listened with keen eagerness, pausing every once in a while at wiping off the grime and dirt on sam and writing something on the clipboard that’s always on your desk.

aeons bless this girl’s heart because she was a total sweetheart. most of the time you never get the chance to keep up with the trends among the cosmos so she took it upon herself to always keep you updated. even when she was on missions, she never fails to send you a text on the new trending fashion, makeup, and even food. speaking of makeup, you should start wrapping that set you managed to snag online. it was a thank you gift for firefly for always keeping you updated.

𐙚 SUNDAY

hesitation, regret, but quiet determination. that was your first impression of sunday when kafka entered your station with him in tow. a pair of mechanical wings to replace his broken one, kafka said before abruptly leaving. he was hesitant to let you near his wings but eventually caved after lots and lots of reassurances that it would be quick. when you finished, you kept a close eye on him whenever he practiced taking flight with it, always remembering to keep a good distance so you don’t invade his comfort zone.

wincing when sunday stumbled for the seventh time today. sweat dripping from his forehead to chin as he tried and tried again, trying to take flight again after years of chaining himself to the ground. it was painful to watch, but you can’t help but feel proud of his determination to make it work. a smile crept up to your face as you scribbled something down on your clipboard when he nearly made it. you made a mental note to reshape the wings a bit and use a different type of material so it didn’t weigh him down too much.

sunday may not show it, but he knows you’re watching from afar, he's happy you keep him company in his trying times, it makes his failures in taking flight a little more bearable. he couldn’t help but feel thankful to his hereditary genes of being able to sense the emotions of others, he just wished you could do the same. you have no idea how grateful he is that you’re taking so much of his comfort and needs into account when creating his wings. he could only offer you a small smile when he knocks at your door to announce dinner. sunday swore to take you to penacony one day when kafka mentioned you’ve always wanted to travel there.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

your theme is so pretty what the heck i wanna eat it

helloo kawa my fellow argenti themed mootie!! and thank you, it took a lot of brain power to think of how i want my theme to look out LMAOOO

missing wife hours (kaveh is so lucky)

──────── ⵌ ab uno disce omnes ; welcome to vee's series .ᐟ

the stars index ─ 𐙚 on going , ★ on hold , 𐀔 discontinued , ♡ future work

FEATURING . . . HAZBIN HOTEL .ᐟ

lights, camera, action .ᐟ ★ a modern/actor au | alastor x gn!reader.

FEATURING . . . GENSHIN IMPACT .ᐟ

come back another time!

FEATURING . . . HONKAI: STAR RAIL .ᐟ

hope is the thing with feathers 𐙚 a collection of vee's stellaron hunter sunday fics | sunday x gn!reader.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.