may I request a sahsrau where the reader is an Eldritch folk horror monster that lives on the express even before hemiko repaired it and now it follows all the members of the crew like a lost puppy
A SAHSRAU where the Reader is an ancient, unsettling, unknowable Eldritch horror that's always just been there, looming, slithering, whispering, lurking… and yet follows the crew around like a very tall, shadowy, multilimbed, too-many-eyes-on-the-wrong-places puppy??
Before the Express was Repaired
No one really knows how long you've been there.
The Nameless whisper stories about how the train seemed to mourn before it was rebuilt, and how a certain room was always cold, always humming with distorted lullabies.
When Himeko stepped aboard the first time? She swore she saw a crooked silhouette watching her from the corner, unmoving. She just nodded in acknowledgment.
They left the room untouched.
You were there before her. You watched her piece the train back together.
And when she burned her fingers on a rail during repairs, you materialized out of nowhere to gently float a tea cup into her hands.
She doesn’t flinch around you. She treats you like a resident spirit, offers you coffee, and thanks you when the lights mysteriously dim when she’s trying to read.
“You’ve seen more than any of us. Perhaps… you know where we’re going before we do.”
You terrify Pom-Pom and they refuse to admit it.
You follow them from behind the furniture. You stack all the teacups in spirals when no one’s looking. You “sleep” coiled around the heating vents like a Lovecraftian radiator.
“Y-You’re not creepy! You're just… architecturally inconvenient!!”
You always chirp like a kettle when they’re stressed. It doesn’t help.
Thought you were a dream the first time.
She blinked. You blinked—all eight of your eyes. She screamed. You gently handed her her camera.
Now? She uses you like a coat rack and insists on putting bows on your tendrils. You just… vibrate warmly.
“You’re like a spooky haunted support dog!! I love it!”
He tries to ignore you. But you keep offering him pages from his own files before he opens them. You occasionally recreate ancient Luofu runes in shifting shadow across the walls while he’s meditating.
“...You are aware I don’t need help decoding my own history, yes?” [You emit a wet, cheerful clicking noise.]
He’s accepted that you’re here. He’s just still wondering why.
You make his Third Eye itch.
You know things. You appear in his dreams. Sometimes you whisper exactly the quantum numbers needed to fix a stabilizer core—but backwards, in forgotten tongues. He writes it down anyway.
“You’re some kind of multidimensional observer, aren’t you? You were here before the Stellaron ever touched this path.”
You nod once. And drift upside-down through the ceiling like a cosmic jellyfish.
Absolutely loves you. Thinks you’re a walking creepypasta mod.
Has already tried to data-mine you six times. You’ve rearranged her code to make her controller vibrate every time she says something sarcastic.
“Yo, are you like... the train’s secret boss fight? Because that’d be sick.”
You once gave her a 1-up in the shape of a writhing red pearl. She keeps it on her desk.
You follow him like a loyal, silent dog.
And he hates it. But he can’t kill you. You don’t bleed. You un-exist and then re-exist. And yet, you watch him with mournful affection, like you’ve known a hundred versions of him in different stars.
“Stop staring at me like that.” [Unblinking gaze intensifies.]
When he collapses from pain or a memory spiral—you are always the one who carries him to bed. You hum lullabies in languages the universe forgot.
Knows exactly what you are. Probably flirted with you once just to see what would happen.
You didn’t respond, but you did fill her room with softly pulsing scarlet roses. She was… delighted.
“Most terrifying thing on this train. And yet you’re basically a groupie with a crush.”
She calls you “Sweetheart.” You always answer. No one's sure if it's a joke or not.
You’re a cosmic, crawling, unknowable entity that has no name, no confirmed purpose, and no hostility.
You just... want to follow your people around.
Like a cursed loyal companion.
A haunted emotional support cryptid.
And everyone is just slowly accepting it.
areudirty
janainaart
dededos
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
vaporwave
