Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This, Stelle thinks as Mr.Yang looms over the rest of the astral express, was not how she had expected the day to go. 

It had all started not even an hour ago when she had gotten bored of sitting around and went to join Dan Heng and March in the archives. The two were resorting some of the books that had been misplaced during one of March and Stelle’s pranks, and she was ready to offer her aid in the name of curing the deadly disease known as boredom. Sure, she may have managed to weasel her way out of being caught earlier, and she may have been a bit too preoccupied with the achievement she got for it to help March do the same. That was all in the past though, she was ready to offer her aid now! And perhaps snag a few readables without Dan Heng noticing. Hopefully.

She walked up to the door, and stopped right outside, waiting for Dan Heng to let her in. He didn’t. She frowned and reluctantly knocked. He still didn’t respond. Neither did March. 

That was weird. Dan Heng not responding she could believe, but March? That was as believable as the possibility of this not turning into a quest. A little ping rang out as a small exclamation mark appeared in front of her. Speak of the devil- think of the devil? Think of the… quest bar?

The exclamation mark moved to the side to reveal the name of the purple quest- Days of Dancing Past .  

…What the fuck does that mean. 

The description provided little help- what does find the object of Dan Heng and March Seventh’s shock even mean?? Was she supposed to just enter Dan Heng’s unofficial room without his permission? No way. Stelle had manners. Impeccable ones, in fact. Provided and enforced by the combined effort of Mr.Yang and Himeko. 

She opened the door and walked inside. Not bothering to close it behind her, she strolled up to where March and Dan Heng were standing, looking at something in March’s hands. Huh. Was this going to be one of those really easy quests? But it was purple. Purple quests dragged on for a bit- not as long as gold ones, mind you. But they were definitely longer than blue ones. And usually had to do with someone she knew on a very personal level. Was March or Dan Heng a dancer? 

Well, it’s definitely not March. Sure, she’d make a gorgeous- uh, good , dancer, but she was way too clumsy. Dan Heng’s graceful enough to have been a dancer- but something about him being on a stage, performing , is so wrong she quickly abandons the thought. It has to be about someone else.

Curious, she peeked over their shoulders and blinked. And blinked again. The sight remained the same.

Before her brain could catch up to what she was seeing, words involuntarily left her mouth. A bodily reaction, if you will.  

“Ayo slay gramps.” 

March flew several feet into the air with a yelp and Dan Heng’s head swivelled in her direction. When he realised it was just Stelle, he relaxed. March, however, choked on her next breath of air and doubled over coughing. She was so hot- pretty. As friends are. 

“Stelle. When did you come in?” 

“Just now. Neither of you were answering.” 

“Ah. Yes, I suppose we were distracted looking at…” Dan Heng trailed off and his gaze slowly moved to the now closed book on the floor. Wordlessly, Stelle crouched down to pick it up as March slowly started gaining control over her lungs again. 

“That-” She coughed again, holding up a hand to signal they should wait. When the cough had significantly died down again, she shakily stood up and continued her sentence, “That was- that was Mr.Yang, right?” 

“It was.” 

“Yup.” 

March nodded slowly. “In a dress.” 

“In a dress.” 

“Yup.” 

None of them spoke for a few seconds, staring at the book in Stelle’s hands, until, “We have to show Himeko.” 

March grabbed the book out of Stelle’s hand and ran out of the archives, in the direction of the parlour car. With a sigh, Dan Heng followed after her. Stelle took a few seconds longer, staring at the quest description as it updated. 

-Show Himeko Mr.Yang’s mysterious past. 

-(Optional) Show Pom-Pom Mr.Yang’s mysterious past. 

Stelle snorted and started speedwalking after the other two. Why add the ‘optional’ when she was obviously going to do it? Dumb little quest menu /j (affectionate). 

March was standing in front of the barely open door, peeking into the small sliver of the other room you could see, an exhausted-looking Dan Heng behind her. 

“Mr.Yang doesn’t seem to be here…”

“Good. I doubt he’d appreciate you showing Himeko this.” After a few moments of consideration, he added, “I doubt he appreciates us having seen it in the first place." 

“He wouldn’t have left it in the archives if he really wanted to keep it a secret” March stuck her tongue out at him, and Dan Heng raised an eyebrow in response. Pushing her way between them, Stelle put her hand on the door and yanked it open, leaving March to stumble forward and faceplant on the ground. Himeko looked up from her coffee at the commotion, and Pom-Pom gave them an annoyed glare where they were watering a plant. 

Ignoring March’s spluttering, Dan Heng walked over to where Himeko was sitting. Far less heartless than the Cold Dragon Young, Stelle offered her hand to pull her up. With a really hot- cute- good looking smile March took the offered hand and stood back up. 

March runs over to where Dan Heng and Himeko are now both sitting and plops herself down on Himeko’s other side. Stelle walks after her and opts to sit on the ground and lean against the seats instead. The ground was far superior anyway. No offence to Pom-Pom intended. 

“Hey, Himeko!” March says, slightly too loud, and Stelle sighs dreamily. Dan Heng sends her a somewhat disgusted look she ignores, “So, we were cleaning the archives right?”

“ I was,” Dan Heng grumbles in protest. 

“And then I found this book,” March continues like the other never said anything, “and we opened it, and it turns out it's a photo album, and oh my aeons guess what the subject is!”

“Oh, I really don’t know…” Himeko smiles indulgently, lifting her coffee cup to take a drink. 

“It’s Mr.Yang in a dress!” 

Himeko chokes on her coffee. 

“H-hm?” 

Taking pity on her, Stelle takes the book from March and holds it out for Himeko to examine. Hesitantly, the older woman takes it and stares down at the pictures in horror. Stelle can relate, in no universe had she ever imagined she would see Mr.Yang in a pink, frilly dress and bunny ears. 

Slowly, very slowly, Himeko turns the page. Oh, right. Books have pages. She’s forgotten that in the discovery of Mr.Yang’s mysterious past. 

Subconsciously, she leans closer to see what’s on the next page. Himeko might as well have put the book on a table with how easy it is to look at anyway. 

There are more people in these, not just Mr.Yang. Two more guys, to be exact, looking like they were the same age as Mr.Yang at the time. They are also performing on stage in dresses. Personally, Stelle thinks the white-haired guy looks the best. Kevin and Otto are written down on some of the pictures, and she’s pretty sure the white-haired one is Kevin. 

So moral of the story, Kevin looks the best in dresses. She frowns. Kevin really doesn’t suit him. It sounds so… bullied nerd in a high school drama coded. This guy looked like the cool protagonist of a game with steadfast morals and a tragic past. 

“What is that.” Another voice interrupts their contemplative staring. Stelle looks over her shoulder, and then down when she doesn’t see anyone immediately. Pom-Pom is standing there, staring in disgust at the pictures. Stelle is pretty sure the disgust is only because it's Mr.Yang, who’s old, and not because Pom-Pom is homophobic. That’d be awkward when the entire crew are clearly raging homosexuals. 

Stelle loses track of the following conversation between Pom-Pom and the rest of the express, too caught up in the mission being cleared and updated. 

Endure Mr.Yang

Oh. Oh. 

Oh no. 

“So, who exactly are those other two?” Pom-Pom’s voice yet again interrupts her deep contemplation of their inevitable demise. She turns back into ‘the real world’, as they say here, in time to see the rest of the express shrug- and a certain someone looming over them. 

“Uh, guys…” She tries to warn them. 

“We just found it while sorting through the archives, and thought Himeko might have a clue!” 

“Guys-”  Sweat slowly starts running down her back, very uncomfortably, as Mr.Yang’s stare gets colder and colder the longer they talk. Has her throat always felt this dry?

“I’m sad to say I have no idea.” 

“G-” 

“That would be because I’ve long lost contact with them.” 

Stelle winces, and the rest of the astral express freeze. In her defence, she had tried to warn them. They had been in a very engaging conversation, so she can’t really blame them for not listening, but she’s also totally going to blame them for not listening. 

“M-Mr.Yang!” March stuttered out as she slowly turned her head in his direction, “I… uh, didn’t see you there!” 

Mr.Yang doesn’t bother with any pretence of exhausted politeness as he basically rips the book out of Himeko’s hands while staring March down. She gulps, slowly wilting as he keeps staring at her while closing the book with a loud thud. 

“Now.” Mr.Yang says, now pretending to be a polite old man again. It makes the situation worse, somehow, like you’ve severely disappointed your kind-hearted old grandpa, “Where did you say you found this?”

Chapter Text

“This sucks.” 

Dan Heng, valiantly, with the experience of someone who’s lived a thousand lives and suffered in them all, kept walking through the ruined train cart. Or, well, shuffling, technically. What he was doing could hardly be considered walking, anyhow, seeing as he was moving mere millimetres a seconds. Safe, for sure, but probably one of the most boring things she could possibly be watching. Not even his otome graphics level face card could salvage her attention at this point.

Not that she blamed him- no, Stelle was a big advocate on workplace safety, she’ll have you know! And she was doing the same thing- ever so slowly making her way through the now decrepit cart. But Dan Heng was also a literal dragon. Surely he could do something more than slowly but surely trudge on top of the wreckage? 

Something in the train makes an ominous creaking sound, and Stelle squints in the general direction of it. That didn’t sound very good. But then again, has there ever been a scenario in the history of media, where ominous creaking meant something good?

Dan Heng, having come to the same conclusion as her, blankly gazed forward for a few seconds. He sighed, “...Are you sure we’ll find anything of use here? I doubt anything that was stored here managed to make it through the crash.”

With a scoff, Stelle pushes forward. Dan Heng stares after her with very muted despair for a few seconds, and then forces himself to follow behind her. Stelle, alpha female that she is, feels nothing at his clear displeasure of the situation. 

…Okay so maybe she does feel a bit bad for forcing him back here after the entire ‘hey so you’re actually dead’ revelation- considering she died here and all, but quests wait for no man! She needs those stellar jades, alright?

Summoned by her thoughts, the quest pops into existence in front of her. 

Days of Dancing Past- Unknown Reprise!

• Return to the site of the crash.

• Retrieve the chest from the wrecked train cart!

…Honestly, thinking back on the last part of this quest, she almost wants to leave it be. Mr.Yangs rage when he finds out they found whatever the quests want them to is almost not worth the reward. Almost, because she’s a hardcore 100%-er, and some world shattering scolding has never been enough to hold her back!

After another few minutes or so of slowly making their way through the wreckage, Stelle finds a chest. It’s old, not very intact, and much lighter than she thought it would be. Stelle is pretty sure she will not be finding some sort of treasure in this thing, but maybe she can at least weasel a reward out of Mr.Yang for salvaging whatever’s in it.

Spurred on at the thought, she (carefully) yanks the chest open. 

There's a dress in it.

Before she can examine it further, the quest pops up in front of her. Stelle blinks down at the updated quest description. 

Days of Dancing Past- Unknown Reprise!

• Return to the site of the crash.

• Retrieve the chest from the wrecked train cart!

• Repeat the visage of the Deliverance.

…What the actual fuck does that mean. 

Squinting down at the dress, Stelle tries to put together where she’s seen it before. She knows she has, it’s in the back of her mind, at the edge of her tongue, ready for her to call upon the memory-

“Wasn’t one of the men in that photo of Mr.Yang wearing that?” Dan Heng mumbles behind her, baffled, “Why would it be aboard the express??”

“That’s right! That’s where I’ve seen it!” Stelle laughs, and then pauses. Talking about that photo… 

Her eyes stray back to the quest, to one word in particular: Deliverance. As in to deliver. As in the Deliverer- and now that she thinks of it, the man who’d been wearing this dress in the photo looked eerily similar to a new friend of theirs.

As a devious grin spreads across her face, Dan Hang looks at her in concern. Not for her, but for whatever poor soul she was going to terrorise next. Dan Heng would hope for their safety. 

Stelle looked back at him with mischief echoing in every crevice of her posture, “Hey, Dan Heng- you wouldn’t have any idea of where we could find Phainon at this time of day, would you?”

“...I’m pretty sure he mentioned having the day off earlier, so the baths, I’d assume.”

Though, maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a bit of fun before they inevitably faced another near death situation. Surely the Deliverer of Amphoreus wouldn’t mind too much.

At the present moment Phainon was, well, a bit confused. 

He had just been enjoying his day, setting up a farewell surprise for his newly turned demigod companion, when Dan Heng had asked him to join the trailblazer and himself in their room. Not that he had anything against their mysterious visitors from beyond the sky! He was just confused.  

With the recent… revelations regarding Stelle’s condition, and the two trailblazers deciding to return to the crash site for a bit, he’d been expecting them to take some time to themselves. He hadn’t been expecting for them to come back so quickly, or for them to request to see him specifically. Again, not that he minded- the two were quite pleasant to talk to, despite their several oddities. It wasn’t often he found people so easy to just… chat with, without any expectations on either end. Even Mydei had patterns to how he expected Phainon, the prophesied Deliverer of Amphoreus, to act. 

The Nameless duo, however, saw the admittedly slightly goofy guy who stole and broke their weapons upon first meeting. It was freeing, as much as he hated to think such thoughts- it was no fault of the people of Amphoreus, really, he was the one who failed to match their expectations, after all. The one who was so far from a gracious hero, and yet couldn’t even admit it…

With a decisive headshake, Phainon picked his pace back up. He shouldn't be thinking like this, in public no less! The people depended on him, the least he could do in return was try to be the hero they saw in him- the saviour they needed. And ruminating on such things before a meeting with friends was just in bad taste.  

Soon, he arrives at the trailblazers door. Dan Heng had said in his message he could just walk in, yet Phainon found himself hesitating at the door. It felt terribly rude to just walk in without their consent. Then again, he had already received a go ahead…

He ended up compromising with himself by knocking as the door opened. 

A sweep of the room reveals that the trailblazers, and Mem it would seem, are gathered on the balcony, backs turned to him. They must be deep in their conversation, if they didn’t hear him enter. As the moment stretches on without them noticing him, Phainon starts feeling a bit awkward just standing there.

They must have invited him for a reason, right? Surely they won’t mind if he interrupts them. 

Making up his mind, Phainon makes his way farther into the room, clearing his throat all the while. Thankfully, it works as intended, and both Dan Heng and Mem turn to look at him. Though, their expressions make them look like they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn't- should he be worried? Were they implicating him in something?

Stelle, taking note of her companions going silent, turns around as well. Unlike her companions, she expresses no moderation of guilt- just glee. Somehow, that just makes him more worried. He may not have known them for very long, but it's been long enough that he knows Stelle being that happy is cause for concern. 

“Phainon!” Stelle calls out, delighted, “You’re here! Okay, great, so we need your help with something.”

“Ah, alright. What can I do for you?” He agrees. Probably, the two outlanders are just confused about a custom or some such- an easy fix, when they have no shortage of locals to ask their questions. Phainon has found himself designated to the task of explaining quite a lot of this in the time he has known them. Not that he minds. He likes this; being able to help others, being someone they can lean on no matter what. 

“We just need you to try something on- it’s nothing bad!” Stelle hurries to say seeing his dubious glance, “It’s just- you know March 7th? Our sick friend we’re taking photos for? She has a habit of taking photos of people dressed in clothes from other planets, as, like, an inside joke with herself. We didn’t think we’d be able to keep it up, since we crashed and all, but when we were going through the wreck earlier we actually found something wearable! And since you’re by far one of our closest friends on Amphoreus, we thought you might, well, put it on?”

While she’d started off confident, Stelle had slowly gotten more sheepish and hopeful as time went on- and was Phainon imagining it, or was Dan Heng practically begging with his eyes behind her? And, well, if it was for their sick friend, it’s not like he could in good conscience say no. Besides, if all they wanted was some clothes modelling, they really could’ve just said so and Phainon would’ve tried to book a more aesthetic location. Or maybe asked Lady Aglaea, she would love picking it out, he’s sure. 

With a light cough, he pushes himself back on track, and responds, “Of course I can. Where are the clothes?”

Stelle points to the room divider beside the beds, “They’re behind there. You can change there too!”

As he walks off nodding, Phainon misses the devious grin and slight smirk the two trailblazers give each other. 

Hidden behind the duo’s room divider, he decides to actually look at what they wanted him to wear. 

It was white and blue, layered, and relatively long. He thinks so, at least. It’s quite hard to tell, folded and bundled in his hands as it is. Looking over at the Diphros (a “stool” they’d called it once- how funny) , he can see the aforementioned accessories, similarly folded to neatly make space for all of it. Though there is an article he’s slightly surprised by among them. 

A blue flower, huh, he muses with some amusement, gently putting the cloth down before starting to undress. 

When down to nothing but his pants, Phainon frowns. The trailblazers hadn’t exactly told him what he was going to be wearing- were pants included? 

After eyeing the lump on the ground, he shrugs before pulling his pants off too. Worst case scenario, he’ll just have to put them on again. 

Now fully undressed aside from his underwear, Phainon begins untangling the cloth with great care. While he’s not sure how precious it could be, Stelle had mentioned it belonged to another member of the express. There was no need to risk ruining it, especially when he’d never even met the owner. 

Holding the cloth out in front of him, Phainon comes face to face with… a dress? It’s in quite a different style to anything you’d find on Amphoreus (though, he isn’t very up to date with the latest trends) , with a lot of ruffles and some… lace, he believed it was called. Phainon squints down at it dubiously. He can’t judge, knowing nothing of the world beyond the sky, but looking at it like this, it feels quite… revealing. 

Phainon isn’t exactly a prude- he’d never have survived a day of knowing Mydei otherwise, but he isn’t really in the habit of showing a lot of skin himself. 

“Phainon?”

He starles, not expecting Dan Heng’s voice from just beyond the partition. 

“Er- yes? Do you need something?”

“Ah, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Dan Heng states, and Phainon blinks in confusion. Why wouldn’t he be alright? Before he can ask, Dan Heng pushes on, “I’m aware these clothes might be… odd, to you. I wanted to make sure you didn’t force yourself to wear something uncomfortable. They’re just clothes- if it makes you uncomfortable, we’re alright with a photo as is.”

Phainon could shed a tear over how thoughtful his newfound friends are. Unfortunately for Dan Heng, his words edge slightly too close to challenging for Phainon to ever admit if he was uncomfortable- which he wasn’t. Like the other man said, they were just clothes.

“Oh! Don’t worry, I don’t mind at all. I was just examining it before putting it on- I should be out in a few minutes.”

“Alright. You can take your time, there’s no need to rush.” and with those parting words, Phainon can hear Dan Heng walk off towards the balcony. 

With newfound determination, Phainon returns to the task at hand. Looking at it once more, he can’t help but feel like it’ll be a bit… tight, on someone of his stature, but no matter- if it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t fit. With a nod, the Deliverer sets out to complete his newest task. 

Wearing this dress from beyond the sky. 

He’s going to die. 

Not literally, though that might be preferable, but socially . In terms of dignity. And pride. 

With a face so red he might as well hand in his applications to the tomato farms, Phainon tries to brave the situation and face the mirror once more. 

He’d been right to think it would be a bit tight- something that should have showed off some moderate thigh and chest instead makes Phainon feel like he borders on being publicly indecent. Sure, the- the tit window was fine, he could live with that, even with the sleeveless aspect added. He went shirtless on the training grounds often enough, and whatever caused Mydei to wear a shirt would be deserving of a holiday of its own. He’d even have been fine with the leg- there were layers, and one of his legs practically drowned in fabric to make up for the other one, of which the upper thigh was barely covered. But put together? With the stockings, gloves and flower accessories ?

This was it. He’d never be able to show his face again. He couldn’t fathom that this is what people beyond the sky liked- maybe it just didn’t look good on him? It’d clearly not been made with his proportions in mind. 

How could the other three people (if Mem counted as a person in this scenario, that is. Then again, Phainon was wearing a truly ridiculous dress right now, so what does he know?) in this room possibly expect him to just… wear this in front of them? Phainon could barely stand to look at himself right now due to the sheer awkwardness that’d consume him- surely nothing about this would make for a good photo.

Dan Hengs earlier words pass through his mind. He could just change back to his normal clothes- lie and say the dress didn't fit, or be honest and say he just didn’t feel comfortable in it. They wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t judge, but how could he possibly walk with pride knowing he was defeated by a mere dress? In the end, it was just some pieces of cloth, as his friend had said earlier.

And, really, only the trailblazers and their sick friend would see it- what harm could it really do to him, or his reputation? It wasn’t as if someone from Amphoreus would be standing outside, frothing at the mouth to see him in such a state. 

With a deep breath, and then one more to really boost his morale, Phainon rounds the divider. The trio have migrated, moving from the terrace to the small bath, Stelle and Mem chattering about something while Dan Heng examines the photostone in his hand. Their newest companion, seemingly having heard his thoughts, perks up and looks his way. The other two soon catch on, and turn to look his way as well. 

It’s awful and he hates it. Normally, he doesn’t mind attention- he tends to enjoy it actually. But then again, normally, he doesn’t feel like he’s moments away from flashing all of Amphoreus.

A loud wolf whistle breaks him out of his thoughts, and he doesn’t bother to stop himself from glaring at Stelle in return. She grins at him, completely unrepentant and waves the photostone in front of her, “Still up for this?”

Phainon sighs, barely able to hide his misery, “Well, I’ve gotten this far, I’m not giving up here.”

“That’s the spirit” Stelle crows, throwing a thumbs up in his direction, “Now, lean on that little table there, please?”

Confused, Phainon looks in the direction of the only table in their room- only to find it has been moved. Where it stood next to their klinēs, it now stands in the middle of the room. Reluctantly, Phainon walks over. Hesitantly, he puts an elbow on the table, leaning down slightly and cringing when it emphasises his chest a lot . In contrast, the Trailblazers grin somehow grows even wider. Staring at him through the photostones lens, she hums, “Looks a bit awkward- Dan Heng, think you could show off an example?”

Rolling his eyes, the man complies, leaning on the table opposite of Phainon. Unlike Phainon, however, Dan Heng decides to put both elbows on the table, his head resting in one of his hands. He bends over far more than Phainon had, and tilts his head slightly, and the Deliverer very much hates how natural the other makes it look. With a slight grumble he adjusts his position to the one Dan Heng is showing him, slightly bent knee and all. 

Both Trailblazers nod approvingly, Dan Heng stepping out of frame while Stelle adjusts the photostone somehow. 

Minutes pass by like this, with Phainon striking a pose at the duo's insistence, Mem giggling in the background with the occasional input or request. Over time, the dress feels slightly more natural, and Phainon actually starts having a bit of fun with the entire thing. 

As Phainon endures a slightly less humiliating pose than the one they’d started with, the door opens, and he swears he feels his soul leaves for Styxia at the sound.

The room goes silent, and not even the usual sound of air being moved with Mem’s floating can be heard. With a horrible feeling of apprehension, Phainon slowly looks over his shoulder and at the door. 

Mydei stares back at him, wide eyed. 

…

Phainon is once again leaning over the table, ass facing the door. 

…

If Thanatos doesn’t come to take him soon, Phainon will damn well take it into his own hands and jump off that balcony himself. 

Seconds pass in silence, the crown prince and deliverer both getting redder all the while. Suddenly, Mydei stalks inside, paying no attention to Phainon’s startled sputtering and Stelles' rushed attempt at explaining. Without a word, he steals a blanket from the bed, throws it over the Deliverer's body, and drags him out the room. 

Phainon is actually going to kill himself. 

The room stays silent for minutes after the rivalistic duo leave. Stelle blinks after them and finally puts the camera away.  “Damn. Phainon is not walking straight tomorrow.” 

Dan Heng throws her a scolding look. She stares back. He sighs and looks away. 

“...I don’t think he’ll be walking much at all tomorrow.”

Stelle cackles at his response and Dan Heng walks off, intent to ignore anything else she has to say for the rest of the day.