#hsr welt

[wiadrorobakow]

cae wants a hug

[anyacad0]

it's like 50% actual biological differences and 50% insecurity I think

[neapenning]

First morning on the Express 🚂

[lovinglyjinxed]

SLEEPING HABITS W/ HSR MEN🤎

HONKAI STAR RAIL | Dan Heng, Sunday, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Aventurine, Mydei, Phainon, Anaxagoras, Ashveill, Blade

[REQUESTED!♡] [DJINX!♡]

DAN HENG

sleeps lightly, never fully surrendering to rest. Years of exile, danger, and watchfulness left him accustomed to waking at the smallest sound. He prefers cool rooms, dim lighting, and the steady hum of the Express. When you struggle to sleep—whether from nightmares, anxiety, overthinking, or simple restlessness—he doesn't overwhelm with advice. Instead, he quietly stays beside you, reading while you settle down. One hand remains within reach if you want it. In either form he will always wrap his tail around your fingers lightly. He speaks in a low, even voice, recounting harmless observations from his travels until you thoughts slow. Only after you're asleep does he finally close his own eyes.

-

SUNDAY

sleeps far less than people realize. Years spent listening to the worries of others left him accustomed to late nights and restless thoughts of his own. He prefers quiet rooms, neatly arranged blankets, and the faint sound of music drifting in the background. When you struggle to sleep he never pushes for answers. Instead, he remains beside you, patient and attentive. One hand gently intertwines with yours if you seek comfort. He speaks in a soft, measured voice, sharing stories, memories, or simple observations until your mind begins to settle. Only once your breathing evens and sleep finally claims you does he allow himself to close his eyes as well.

-

WELT

doesn't sleep very deeply anymore. Not because he expects danger, but because after a lifetime of carrying responsibilities, part of him is always listening for the people he cares about. If you wake in the middle of the night, chances are he's awake too. Quietly reading in the dim light, glasses perched low on his nose as he turns another page. When you can't sleep, he never pushes. He'll simply set his book aside and make room for you against his shoulder. If you want to talk, he'll listen. If you don't, he won't press for answers. Silence has never made him uncomfortable. Sometimes he'll tell you stories about places you've never seen, old films from his home, or memories softened by time. Nothing too heavy. Just enough to pull your thoughts away from whatever is keeping them awake. And somehow, with the steady rhythm of his voice and the quiet certainty he carries, sleep never seems quite so far away.

-

SAMPO

claims he's excellent at sleeping. According to him, it's one of his many talents. In reality, he's usually the last one asleep and the first to notice when you're still awake. If you can't sleep, he'll start talking. Not about anything important. In fact, the more important the problem is, the less directly he'll address it. He'll tell ridiculous stories, make up outrageous business ventures, complain about people who definitely deserved to be scammed, and somehow have you smiling before you realize what he's doing. The whole time, he's watching you from the corner of his eye. Eventually his voice grows quieter, his jokes less frequent, until you're half asleep against him. Only then does he relax, an arm settling around you as if it ended up there by accident. When morning comes, he'll deny being sweet about any of it. But somehow, he's always there on the nights you need him most.

-

GEPARD

sleeps like someone who knows the city never truly rests. Even off duty, years of standing watch over Belobog make him a light sleeper, quick to wake at unusual sounds. He prefers quiet, cold rooms and often falls asleep later than he intends after finishing reports or checking that everything is in order. When you can't sleep, he doesn't immediately try to solve the problem. Instead, he stays beside you, patient and steady, letting you talk through whatever is weighing on your mind. If words don't come easily, that's fine too. He'll rest a hand over yours, gently tracing circles across your knuckles while speaking about simple things—flowers he's trying to grow, stories from patrol, songs Serval used to sing at home. His voice is calm and grounding, carrying the certainty that you're safe. If a nightmare wakes you, he'll be awake in seconds, pulling you close without hesitation. He won't leave until your breathing evens out and sleep finally finds you again.

-

JINGYUAN

sleeps surprisingly well when he finally allows himself to. Years of carrying the weight of the Luofu taught him that exhaustion clouds judgment, so he values rest even if duty constantly tries to steal it away. Still, he often lingers awake, lost in thought, watching the departing starskiffs or quietly playing through old memories. When you have trouble sleeping, he never rushes you toward rest. Instead, he invites you to sit beside him, speaking in that calm, unhurried voice that makes even worries feel less urgent. He'll tell stories from his travels, amusing tales about old friends, or observations that seem pointless until you realize they've distracted you from your spiraling thoughts. If nightmares wake you, he simply draws you closer, one hand resting against your back. No lectures, no questions, no pressure. Just a steady presence, patient as moonlight, remaining awake a little longer so you don't have to face the darkness alone.

-

AVENTURINE

Sleep doesn't come easily to Aventurine. He spends so much of his life calculating odds, reading people, and preparing for every possible outcome that his mind rarely settles the moment his head touches the pillow. Even when he looks relaxed, there's usually a part of him still awake, still watching. When you can't sleep, he notices long before you say anything. Rather than pressing you for answers, he'll quietly draw your attention elsewhere, spinning stories, making harmless wagers about tomorrow, or asking questions he already knows don't need serious answers. It's easier to carry a burden when you're laughing a little. If anxiety keeps you awake, he'll lace his fingers through yours and remind you that not every uncertainty needs to be solved tonight. Beneath the charm and confidence is someone who understands fear far better than he lets on.

-

MYDEI

sleeps the way a warrior stands guard—never completely. Even when exhaustion finally drags him under, years of battle, prophecy, and surviving what should have killed him make rest feel more like a temporary ceasefire than true peace. He prefers your warmth close by, often keeping an arm around you without even realizing it. It's instinctive, like protecting something precious. When you struggle to sleep, his first instinct is action. He wants to fight the problem, defeat it, challenge it outright. But over time, he learns that not every battle can be won with strength. Instead, he stays beside you, listening more than speaking. His presence is solid and grounding, like an ancient stone wall weathering a storm. If nightmares wake you, he's immediately alert, pulling you against his chest before you've fully opened your eyes. He doesn't offer polished words or clever reassurances. He simply reminds you that you're here, alive, and safe. Sometimes he'll tell stories of Kremnos, of festivals, warriors, and fields of flowers waiting beyond hardship. His voice carries the certainty of someone who has stared death in the face countless times and kept walking. Sleep may evade him, but if it means standing watch over you through the night, Mydei considers that a battle worth winning.

-

PHAINON

sleeps as though he is standing watch over a dying flame. Even in rest, there is a quiet tension in him, the habit of someone who has carried hope through too many dark nights to ever set it down completely. He prefers open windows, cool air, and the faint scent of earth after rain. When sleep refuses to come, he doesn't ask what's wrong right away. Instead, he settles beside you with patient ease, speaking of distant wheat fields, old stories, and dreams of worlds yet to be built. His voice is warm and steady, never forcing comfort, only offering it. If nightmares wake you, he'll stay until dawn if needed. To him, no burden is too small when it's carried by someone he cares about.

-

ANAXAGORAS

sleeps reluctantly, as though rest is an argument he has yet to lose. Even when exhaustion finally catches up to him, books remain piled around his bed, papers covered in half-finished notes scattered across every available surface. More than once, he's fallen asleep while researching a question that refused to leave his mind. He prefers silence, dim lighting, and uninterrupted hours where thought can wander wherever it pleases. When you can't sleep, he doesn't immediately ask what's wrong. Instead, he begins talking—about paradoxes, ancient philosophies, absurd academic disputes, or whatever idea currently occupies his attention. Somehow, while trying to follow his reasoning or argue back, the weight on your mind starts to loosen. If sleep still refuses to come, he'll read aloud from one of his books, occasionally stopping to criticize the author's conclusions or propose a better answer himself. Every so often his gaze flickers toward you, checking whether you're still awake, though he'd deny doing so if asked. Once you finally drift off, he quietly returns to his notes. Hours later, long after everyone else is asleep, the faint scratch of a pen can still be heard as he chases another impossible question into the night.

ASHVEIL

sleeps lightly, the way old hunters do. One ear always tuned to the world around him, one hand never too far from his weapon. Years spent chasing criminals, debts, and ghosts have left him with the habit of waking at the slightest disturbance. He claims it's just part of the job, though the truth runs deeper than that. When sleep won't come, he doesn't pry. He'll simply settle nearby, nursing a cup of coffee gone cold hours ago or lazily flipping through old case files. Sometimes he'll tell you stories—not the glamorous kind about heroes saving the galaxy, but small ones. Lost dogs that found their way home. Missing people reunited with family. Ordinary victories that remind people the world isn't entirely cruel. If your thoughts keep spiraling, he'll listen without interruption, offering the occasional joke so terrible it earns an eye roll. He doesn't try to solve every problem. A detective knows some things just need time. And if nightmares wake you in the dark, you'll find him exactly where he was before, still keeping watch. He might grumble about lost sleep or send you an invoice for emotional support afterward, but neither would be serious. As long as you're awake and hurting, he won't be going anywhere. Not yet.

-

BLADE

doesn't sleep often. When he does, it comes in brief stretches between old memories and older scars. Most nights he's awake long before you are, sitting somewhere nearby with his sword within reach and his thoughts somewhere far away. Silence never seems to bother him. When sleep refuses to come for you, he notices before you say anything. He isn't good at comfort in the usual sense. He won't offer soft reassurances or tell you everything will be fine. Instead, he'll quietly make room beside him, wordlessly inviting you to stay. Sometimes he sharpens his blade. Sometimes he tends to old equipment. Sometimes he simply sits there in the dark. If nightmares wake you, his hand settles against yours before you can pull away from them completely. He understands what it means to be haunted. On the rare nights you manage to fall asleep against his shoulder, he remains perfectly still, as if afraid movement might disturb the fragile peace you've found. Only when your breathing finally evens out does he allow himself a moment of rest. And even then, one eye never fully closes.

[puffypoffin]

This is actually the context for this pic guys trust me my uncle works at mihoyo

[sodainto]

THE SILLY!!!!!!!

[radiowave-ll]

i draw a lot of welt too, so if you are interested, welcome to stay

[zeka-maki]

Hiiii can u do the Astral Express x member who used to be a super famous assassin (did it for money and personal reasons lol)but now they’ve changed for the better even if their own power and methods still freaks them out sometimes

And THANK YOUUU SMM I REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING

ʚɞ I thought this place was heaven sent ʚɞ

Pairings: March 7th x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Himeko x Reader, Welt x Reader, Trailblazer x Reader, Sunday x Reader (Bonus: Akivili x Reader)

Summery: Your former occupation has always haunted you— the bloodied hands, the weapons on your palm, they have a way of returning in your memories. To change, you've boarded the Astral Express. Even so, your past and abilities haunt you.

Tags: Mild angst, fluff, comfort, mentions blood, violence and subjects of this matter, I still suck at tagging, post Amphoreus March, Uh Akivili is there too

A/N: Tysm for the req!! I TRIED WRITING THAT AEON AUGHH I'M SORRY IF ITS ASS, anyways, hope you enjoy!

⚘ March 7th:

You joined the Express with a quiet promise to change. A life once filled with contracts and blood now replaced with tea, stargazing, and reluctant companionship. Even so, your hands still remember how to kill… and sometimes, that terrifies you more than anyone else.

March is the first person to treat you normally.

At first, she tries too hard—smiling nervously, cracking awkward jokes, very obviously avoiding questions about your past. Then she realizes something: you hate being treated like a walking danger sign.

“Okay! New rule!” she announces one day, looping her arm through yours. “You’re not ‘Former Scary Assassin.’ You’re just you. The person who eats way too many noodles and refuses help even when you really need it!”

She’ll drag you to take photos, make you laugh, make you live. But she’s also surprisingly serious when it matters.

One night, after a mission, you’re shaking—hands stained with blood you didn’t want to spill, instincts you wish would fade. March silently takes your hands and presses them to her cheeks.

“See? These hands save people now,” she whispers. “And I’m really glad they saved me.”

Your lips quivers and your eyes fill up with unshed tears. In the blink of an eye, March receives the tightest hug she's ever gotten, giggling at the intensity. To her, you're someone she won't forget even if her memories were to be lost again.

And she's sure Evernight agrees too.

⚘ Dan Heng:

Dan Heng understands restraint. He understands fearing the past. He's fled the Luofu, avoided his past. He knows how it feels to have blood on your hand that you never wished to shed.

He never judges you. Never flinches. Never stares too long. Instead, he watches you quietly.

The way you hesitate before drawing a weapon. The way your eyes go distant when violence feels too… easy. The way you always whisper “I’m sorry” after every fight.

One night in the archives, you quietly confess, “Sometimes… I’m scared that if I stop trying so hard, I’ll become that person again.”

Dan Heng closes his book. “You won’t,” he says simply.

“How can you be so sure?” Your question is almost defensive.

He looks at you fully for once—gentle, steady, grounding. “Because people who enjoy hurting others don’t tremble the way you do afterward.”

He doesn’t comfort with warmth. He comforts with certainty. And somehow, that’s exactly what you need.

“The shackles of the past don't bind you or me.” He gently laces your fingers with his, pressing a kiss on the back of it. “That was broken the moment you stepped onto this train.”

⚘ Himeko:

Himeko treats you like any other Nameless. Not a monster. Not a fragile thing. Just someone who’s trying.

She’ll hand you tea and talk calmly, smiling like she already decided to trust you. “You’re part of the crew now. That means we’re walking forward together, right?”

Those words bring you comfort. During the nights filled with nightmares, they drape over you like a warm blanket. She's told you multiple times, you are one of them. You are a Nameless.

After the mission in Jarilo-IV, you were told to finish off a few fragmentum monsters disturbing the Great Mine. But mid-fight, you swear you heard something human. That stops you, you can't tell what you're fighting anymore. Is this a human? Are you taking another human life?

Things are seconds away from going wrong when Himeko steps in, finishing the fight herself before gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Breathe,” she says softly. “Look at me. You’re here. You’re safe.” she comforts you as her techs finish the job. There is guilt within her eyes, she shouldn't have taken the risk of you getting here.

Later, she sits beside you on the Express window seats, red hair glowing in starlight. You've avoided her all day, out of embarrassment and vulnerability. But Himeko always has a way of returning, to you and the universe.

“You don’t have to erase who you were,” she says. “You just need to become someone you can be proud of.”

And she’ll stay until you smile again.

⚘ Welt Yang:

Welt never underestimates you. He also never overestimates you. He treats your past like a fact—not shame, not legend.

When missions require precision, he trusts you with critical roles. Not because of your violent history… but because he believes you’d use your abilities responsibly.

During your stay at Penacony, Welt invites you watch the fireworks with him. Tonight, the stars speak of redemption, the journey onwards and the joy brought by tears. Staring at the story telling stars, you finally confess, “I don’t know if I deserve this place,”

He answers in that calm, reassuring voice: “Redemption isn’t deserved. It’s chosen. Every day.”

If your hands shake, he’ll simply place a firm hand over them. “You’re not alone anymore,” he reminds softly. That answer comes from a man who's stood by humanity for ages and he believes you're someone to be believed in.

“And you don’t need to carry the consequences by yourself.” His gaze returns to the stars. Humanity is the strangest yet purest thing, and Welt finds it raw within you. He swears to protect it, with his own hands that bore the will of humanity.

⚘ Trailblazer (Caelus/Stelle):

The Trailblazer is weirdly casual about it. Ever since Himeko informed them of your past, they weren't even surprised. They had that smile that spoke mischief and danger. You assumed that was just the wonders of the Trailblaze.

“Oh? Assassin? Cool. Wanna go eat after the mission?” They had replied after you had confessed your own past. Even though you were a bit late to the train...

They don’t see you as dangerous—they see you as someone who survived. Meeting countless people in those five planets, they've grown accustomed to the varieties of the pasts people can shoulder.

During a mission in the Xianzhou Luofu, your composure falters after a battle against the Mara-struck. Knowing that these were once people, struck painful memories to resurface.

“I don’t want to hurt people anymore. But when the fighting starts, it feels too natural…” you whisper, looking down at your hands.

The Trailblazer just nods slowly. “Then we’ll figure it out together. We mess up. We try again. That’s what traveling is for, right?”

They bump your shoulder with a grin. “Besides, if you ever lose control, we’ll bonk you on the head and bring you back.”

Even though their voice carries humor, you know they're trying to make you feel better. The warmth it carries is unlike others, spreading in your heart that you once thought was stone-cold. Perhaps the power of the Trailblaze warmed more than just your body.

⚘ Sunday:

Sunday is… complicated with you.

When he first learns who you used to be, he doesn’t seem surprised. He doesn’t recoil in fear. He simply studies you quietly, eyes thoughtful, expression unreadable. You can’t tell whether he’s impressed, unsettled… or something else entirely.

“I see,” he says softly. “You’ve walked quite the violent path.” His words are almost admiring. To think that a person of such sins has the heart to walk a different path, it fascinates the halovian.

Sunday is someone who believes in ideals, futures, visions of perfection. And you? You’re proof that the universe can be cruel and people can be shaped into weapons.

At first, he keeps a little emotional distance — polite, composed, gentle… but carefully guarded. Not because he fears you harming others.

He fears you harming yourself. He notices every moment you go stiff at the sight of blood. Every time your breathing turns shallow after a mission. Every time you stare at your own hands like they belong to a stranger.

And one day… you snap. “I shouldn’t be here.” your voice cracks through the whispers. “I’ve hurt too many people. I don’t deserve to stand beside everyone like I’m… good.”

For a moment, he remains silent. Then Sunday steps closer, reaching out carefully, like he’s touching something sacred and fragile.

“You believe I’m someone trying to change the world for the better… don’t you?” he asks gently.

You nod hesitantly. You've heard his tale from Mr. Yang, about the man who once almost became an Aeon, now a man chasing hope and harmony.

“Then allow me the same grace,” he smiles softly. “Allow me to believe in you, the same way you somehow chose to believe in me.”

His hand rests lightly over yours — warm, steady. “You are terrifyingly strong,” he admits. “But that strength is no longer guided by greed or darkness. It is guided by conscience. By remorse. By hope.”

A faint sadness touches his voice. “And people like that… deserve a chance to live under the sun.”

Just like those words, Sunday's tunes and melodies bring you warmth in the deepest trenches of thoughts. If he shall not be the one to be bound by the past, neither will you be. And the bird will choose to shelter its kin from the rain that it ran towards to.

Bonus!!

⚘ Akivili:

You've joined the Astral Express under constant persuasion, especially from the Aeon of Trailblaze. Your former life had led you to nowhere and where it reaches nothingness, the Trailblaze appears.

You've heard many praises of Akivili— THEIR deeds, THEIR kindness, THEIR spirit, everything used to ring in your ears. Even during a mission, you had come across the opportunity to meet THEM. The way you drifted across planets fascinated the Trailblazer.

THEIR relentless persuasion, words of hope had caved you in and you find yourself journey aboard the Astral Express.

For the blood tainting your hands, you feel guilty, out of place. A puzzle piece meant for a different picture. Among your doubts, the Aeon of Trailblaze remains by your side. THEY watch you with watchful gaze, witness your interaction with others on the Express.

Even now, as Dolly's music hums into the background, you sit on the sofa of the cabin. Akivili's cabin. The Aeon in question sits next to you— oddly so.

“Perhaps, I'm just tainting you all with the sins I've committed.” you mumble into your shaky hands.

Akivili doesn't look at you in disgust, but rather empathy. THEY pry the hands of your face. “Yet, you've accepted the Trailblaze, for a new life and better changes.”

Your breath hitches as you look into THEIR golden eyes. THEIR gaze is burning with molten stars, yet you've never seen them this soft before.

THEY press your hand to THEIR chest, allowing you feel the essence of Trailblaze and THEIR heart. “I've taken this form to change, bring hope. You are what I am looking for. You are wanted, by the Nameless.”

THEIR heartbeat lie beneath your fingers. A testament of THEIR supposed humanity. If an Aeon can be brought so close to humanity, then why can't a mortal like you reach the deepest depths of it?