#dan still does his one life run

[sonicrainicorn]

Here's a fun, wholesome fact for the single dad au: Kevin and Dan always play the newest Zelda game together. It's tradition

[hello-eden]

dead on main #3

destabilized Ellie and Dan are Jason and Danny's kids except Jason gives his permission to help stabilize the two when he's dead and when he's resurrected he has no memories of it.

 Danny and Jason met while he was dead and had a teenage puppy crush sort of thing. The two of them had a lot of things going on with one still being a vigilante in their town and one being recently murdered, So they never really were able to get together before Jason was resurrected. The two of them are from different dimensions and only meet due to the fact that the ghost zone is every Dimension afterlife. 

There is a bad reaction from Vlad finding out that Danny used someone else's DNA to stabilize the kids, Which leads to a very Reckless fight that leads to his parents finding out that the kids are halfas. The parents don't know that he is also halfa so they try to cure the kids. Danny flees To the ghost zone specifically to frostbite to make sure the kids are okay. While he's there Clockwork decides that was the best time to basically tell Danny that Jason's resurrected in his home dimension and that is probably best if he settles down there. Of course because Clockwork is still a menace before Danny goes through the portal he says that Jason does not have his memories of being dead and then pushes him through. Danny sets up his life there with Ellie and Dan.

Plot twist Danny ends up being neighbors to Roy in Star City. Danny is a trans single father of twins that appears to have run away from home due to bad situation. With all the Vigilante scars that Danny has it's a reasonable conclusion for him to suspect an abusive home.

Danny babysits Lian when Roy has missions and Roy babysits Ellie and Dan When Danny does work.  of course not always do their schedules so occasionally they have to call in another babysitter and when that fails we have the Red Hood himself. the unknown father of the twins( not really twins) and the Godfather of the other child( yes I made him The Godfather).

 Danny doesn't instantly recognize him due to the very obvious change. Two of them meet a couple of times through Roy. Danny usually just accidentally stopping in at a bad time before Roy introduces them together and Danny hears his name.

Danny does not tell him that he's the father of the children because one he was dead which means he's going to have to explain what he was doing while he was dead. and two because Clockwork told him he had his memories erased. Danny of course has a lot of feelings about this and Jason instantly gets a crush. Jason occasionally babysits the kids when the regular babysitter isn't working Nor can watch each other's kids because of schedules.

A situation happens with Ellie where she needs to go to the hospital and Jason brings her. this leads to an emergency blood transfusion. The transfusion goes badly and isn't working so Jason asks if his blood will work. It works perfectly. Jason questions for a little bit. Danny, whose phone was broken in  a villain attack two days ago and hasn't gotten replaced, shows up at the hospital after finally being contacted. Jason questioned him a little bit  Danny freaks out a lot which raises Jason's alarms quite High. When Danny's getting some food for Elle and talking to doctors Jason does a DNA test. Jason gets the results a week later when Ellie's finally back home which reveals he is the father. He has a lot of questions about this.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP: Immunity system

Danny gets confused for Tim Drake when he stop for gas in Gotham on his way to visit Dan. His clone had set up shop- a literary comic book shop- in Metropolis.

Danny was going for the weekend to help him run the red dot sale and also spend time with his Clone turned older brother.

Dan after being released from his prison and getting a Core Cleanse in the FarFrozen ectoplasm iced pools, had mellowed out greatly.

It turns out Dan had gone mad after suffering a dip in contaminated ectoplasm. He called it "Pit Madness" and Clockwork assured him it was a real medical condition

Much like getting bitten by a rabies-infected animal, Dan's condition was not his fault despite turning him violent.

After the Big Reveal with his parents - who took the news surprisingly well- Team Phantom introduced Elle and Dan to them.

The two clones had been quickly made official Fentons and now Danny had an older brother and a young sister.

Elle lived at home with Danny and his parents, but Jazz and Dan moved out after high school graduation. Danny was thinking of moving in with Dan to go to college.

He wasn't sure, but he still had a whole year to decide.

Danny found a gas station within his GPS map and stopped at the closest one. There weren't a lot of people around, so he assumed that was a slow day.

He was not aware the locals avoided the area due to the danger of feuding gangs. He was also unaware that while pumping the gas, a Scarecrow goon was watching him.

That goon knew his boss had been getting a bit bored with his experiments, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his boss turned on his employees to relieve his boredom.

He was just starting to sweat, thinking he would be the new genuine pig until Tim Drake himself rolled out of a beat up car in the bad part of town.

He practically gift-wrapped himself for Scarecrow! The goon grins, creeping up behind the distracted young man.

One of the employees' inside the gas station had clocked Tim Drake too and had been staring at him - how could he not when Tim was a Bi icon?- and sees the moment the goon covers the boy's mouth with a clotch and yank him into a van that speeds away.

For a moment, the employee only gawked after the speeding vehicle, too shook to do anything as it disappears around a corner.

He scrambles for his phone to call 911. He prays that his slow reaction does not cost Drake's life.

(His call's transcript pings on Oracle's program designed to pick up the civilian names of the Bats if ever used in the emergency hotlines)

Sadly it is hours before the Bats have even an idea of where Tim (actually Danny) was taken to.

Danny wakes up in a warehouse, strapped to a table. He only had a brief moment of thinking his worst fear was coming true ,his parents, were going to rip him apart molecular by molecular, despite it being two years since they learn.

Thankfully a man dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume steps into the light and he knows it's not his parents.

"Lovely expression Mr. Drake. Let's see how lovely that fear truly is," the man says in a raspy voice, holding up a needle. He stabs Danny with it and the boy blanches as the hot liquid enters his blood stream.

A minute goes by.

Two.

Three.

"Ugh was that supposed to do something?" He questioned, moving around his restraints to check his chances of escape without outing himself as Phantom.

The camera pointing at him limits his options.

The man dressed as Scarecrow lets out a gleeful cackle. He doesn't answer Danny, instead turning to the door- from where Danny can lift his head, it looks like he's in a basement of some kind- and shouts, "Bring me experiment six two six!"

A bulky man comes in carrying a tray of tubes. Danny watches as Scarecrow carefully selects a tube and pours it into another needle. "Lets see how you handle this"

The answer is Danny handles it very well. In fact he takes all seven tubes without a single reaction. Honestly it's the needle that's a real bother.

Scarecrow is both impressed and slightly insulted by the end of it. "How did a simpleton chloroform work on you but not my brilliant science!?"

Danny squints at him. "I would call this many things but never science, let alone brilliant, you fruitloop."

He gets knocked out again for his cheek with a new chloroform rag.

He wakes to the same made leaning over him again, but this time, there is also a clown in purple. Danny can only stare as the clown cackles.

"I think you're losing your special touch if Tim Drake is immune to your Fear Gas." The clown says, and Danny wonders if a costume convention exists in town.

Danny is happy to see that besides being knocked out and tied him down they haven't really done anything to him. "Who are you supposed to be?"

The clown face spams before a wide, mad grin breaks across his face. If Danny were to look of the definition of madness in a dictionary he knows this guy would be the example for it.

"I'm just a simple chum who wants to see the world laugh," The clown tells him, holding a squirt flower in Danny's face. "Let's see that smile!"

Danny squeaks as the liquid splashes in his face, some going up his nose. He coughs while the two men stare intensely at him.

After a moment Danny gets himself under control. "Ugh what was that? Is smell nasty"

The clown face freezes, rage bleeding into his eyes as the scarecrow one scoffs "seem you are also losing your touch, chum"

"No no no. Our little friend just needs a higher dosage! I'll have him laughing in no time!"

He doesn't. After a gas tank full of that nasty-smelling stuff is forced onto his face, and five different needles stabbed into his arm the clown is forced to admit Danny is immune.

They still call him "Mr. Drake" even though Danny tells them between needles that's not his name.

After hours of attempting to get a reaction out of him- both by clown and scarecrow- , Danny is knocked out again by the little rag.

When he comes two three people stand over him. The two from before, though clown now looks murderous and scarecrow politely interested, and a women in green with leaves splat across her outfit.

So Danny got kidnapped by a Scarecrow, a clown, and a nymph? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

The gas mask is forced back onto his face and another Danny struggles he can do nothing as he is forced to breath in a new gas.

The woman watches his reaction with a keen eye before nodding "He should be pretty far gone now"

Scarecrow shakes his head. "There isn't a single reaction. He isn't affected by your pheromones."

The woman scoffs, leaning over Danny and fluttering her eyelashes "You're going to kill dear old dad for me"

Danny glares at her. "Like hell, I will."

His voice is muffled by the mask but they hear him and the woman actually looks shocked "He might need a higher dosage "

"By all means, give it a try. Neither Joker or I saw a difference in Mr.Drake even after adjusting his intake."

"How is that possible?"

"Maybe because you all suck!"

The clown slams his hands on the table. "I am one of the best chemists in the world, brat!"

"And the ugliest!"

Danny doesn't see the knife until it's pressed repeatedly into his left leg. He screams around his mask as the Clown spits and swears at him.

The other two only watch, neither seemingly bothered by the man stabbing a teenager.

Then the knife is plunged into his stomach, and he screams as the world almost whites out in agony.

Danny, blinks the white hot pain, and is just barely thinking of going ghost when the door bursts open and a group of people wearing more costumes pour in.

A man dressed as a Bat flings the clown away with an outraged cry. Danny can't see where the clown lands, but he hears fighting all around him.

A boy in a hood and mask appears in his line of sight. There is a worried frown on his face as he quickly picks at the locks keeping Danny down "Do not worry, Drake, we are here."

Danny finally gives in to the pain, running to blissful darkness as a man in a red helmet lifts him off the bed and makes a run for the door.

The kid provided cover for them.

[flamingpudding]

All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

----------------------------------

Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

[lorelune]

dreamer's envy

|| dan heng x reader || E/18+ || first time, comfort, lore || wc: 13.4k  || ao3 ||

Dan Heng is haunted by the memories of a man he no longer is. You are all to willing to help him.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

notes: ahhh!!! beloved dh... df... yx... this fic is a bit of a love letter to reader insert character studies and ship fic. making my two faves kiss on the mouth fr. thank you so much to @yinyuedijun for beta reading along the way!! hope you enjoy 💗

CW: reader is referred to with they/them pronouns and afab anatomy, previous dan feng/yingxing, descriptions of gore, descriptions of intimacy issues, author-created lore (plot crafted prior to penacony release), interpretations of HCQ lore, multiple characters experiencing post-trauma

NOTE: this piece is written in two points of view. one is from dan heng’s perspective, where the “you” he is referring to, is you, as in the reader. the other perspective is second-person pov where the narrator ('you') is dan feng. in these portions, 'you' have a cock and the assorted anatomy. these portions are written in italicized text.

Your hands shake. Your thighs tremble. Yingxing lays between them, your cock nestled in his mouth. It’s not sizable enough to hit the back of his throat, but Yingxing, ever the sensitive man, still has tears pricking the corners of his eyes. You stifle a moan into your hand, hastily slapped over your mouth.

Yingxing will not have it.

A strong, calloused hand grabs your wrist and yanks it. He pins your hand by your side, intertwining your fingers. He pulls off your cock with spit-slick lips and smiles. 

“Beloved,” Yingxing speaks in a purr, soft and gentle and comforting against your ears. “You know I love to hear all of those sounds of yours. You’re not getting shy on me, are you?”

There’s a hint of mischief to his voice. You huff and kick at his back.

“Hurry up,” you snap at him. There's a bite to it; you mean there to be. Yingxing only looks amused by your tone— the only one on the entire Luofu who could possibly look joyful, when met with your distinct ire.

“Can’t I take my time?” Yingxing asks, licking from your balls, to base, to the head of your cock. You’re— wet. Leaking pre down your shaft. “May I undo you, my flower?”

“You’re an awful man. I will have you imprisoned.”

“You’d never.”

“You’re right, I’d do worse.” You have so many ideas brewing behind your eyes— ways to punish this wretched man for toying with you. Treating you so kindly and with such humor and wit. There is no one else like him— no one else in your many, lonely years who has lanced you in the way that Yingxing has. How treacherous of him, to steal your heart. 

“You’ll have to tell me all about the ways you’ll punish me,” Yingxing hums, pushing the tip of your cock against his lips. It’s obscene. The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. “After you cum down my throat, though.”

Yingxing, that bastard of a man, takes you into his mouth against, bobbing his head, sucking and running the flat of his tongue over the bottom of your cock. It’s too much, all at once—

And how prettily you moan when you become undone (again) under this wonderful, awful man—

✶    ✶    ✶    ✶    ✶   ✶

Dan Heng wakes up with such a start, he nearly vomits. He does dry heave, snatching the conveniently placed trash can nearby and dropping his head inside to sputter. Spit dribbles off his lips and falls in globs to the bottom of the basket.

He sets it aside and rubs the heels of his hands over his eyes.

Again.

Again, again, again— he has these dreams all too often. Of a life that is not his, of a lover that couldn’t possibly, ever be his. They’re visceral, vivid— as though Dan Heng is experiencing them in real time, and they’re not some awful figment that clings from a past life.

They plague him, simply. He hates every moment of them.

The pleasure of them feels poisonous. That man is not him. Yingxing— is not his. The body that writhes and gasps is not his own. He’s an onlooker, a distant stranger looking in on something intimate and dead. It’s torture, really, but Dan Heng is an expert is quiet endurance, so he copes. 

He stands, still wearing day clothes, and drags himself from his sleeping bag on the floor. His companions on the Astral Express all stated their initial concern with his choice of lodging and lack of a bed, but they’ve since calmed. Everyone on the Express has their quirks. It’s like how March sleep walks, Stelle occasionally glows from her chest, and you only sleep once every few weeks and never in your own room. Dan Heng enjoys his spot in the Archives due to the various motors and machinery that lay under the floor. It’s warm, far toastier than any other room, or bed for that matter. 

(He is not Dan Feng. However, Dan Heng cannot deny that his more draconic instincts are somewhat intact.)

Dan Heng throws on his slouchiest sweater, threadbare and worn, and wanders to the parlor car. An hour or so of pacing usually cures him of any antsiness, and he can nurse a cup of tea while he walks too.

This night, however, you sit in the parlor car as well. Dan Heng slows as he sees you.

You’re— an enigma to him really. Everyone on the express is a bit of a misfit, but you are a newer addition to the bunch, and he and the rest of the crew are still grappling with your oddities. 

Dan Heng has, since the moment he first met you, accepted he would never fully understand you. He made peace with it, moved on and has kept his distance except when necessary. It is better this way.

You’re staring, side-long, out of one of the wide windows of the car. Your chin is perched on your palm and your perpetually blood-shot eyes are half-lidded. Dark circles are punched beneath them. You look like shit. You always look like shit, and you have assured the crew that this is normal, despite March’s initial fretting. 

When you notice him staring, a kind smile curls on your lips and you wave, good-natured.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine.” It’s not the first time you two have met like this. The Parlor Car is empty, except the two of you and the dimly glowing whale fixture that hangs from the ceiling. It feels familiar, much more comfortable than the... unwelcome familiarity of his own dreams. “I’m just fetching a cup of tea.”

“Ah, a night cap?” You hum, and crack your neck. “Sounds needed. That last dream of yours was wild.” 

Dan Heng frowns, “I’ve asked you before to quit that, please. It’s invasive.”

“I would if I could,” You shrug. “But, I can’t. Besides, your dreams are loud, Dan Heng. I’d be unable to ignore them even if I was at the back of the train.” 

“Can you at least not mention them?”

“I mean, I can not. But... they clearly upset you, don’t they?” You tilt your head, eyes soft. “Would you like to talk about them at all? I don’t mind listening.”

“They aren’t your concern.”

“I’m aware of that, but that doesn’t stop me from caring. I know they’re distressing.”

“You’re prying.”

“I’m asking, Dan Heng.” You sound a little desperate. Standing, you pass by him, in the direction of the passenger car. “You can say ‘no, my fellow Nameless, I would like you to never speak of me and my upsetting sex dreams,’ and I won’t ever mention them again. I don’t mean to be a thorn in your side, but the past is easier to bear in the present if you can lean on folks.”

Dan Heng is silent, stewing and stirring under his skin. 

By the time he has a reply formulated, you have left the parlor car. The only sign that you’d ever been there to begin with is a patterned knit blanket left where you were sitting. 

Dan Heng snatches it up before he can convince himself not to and returns to his room to add it to his ground-bound nest.

...

Welt had found you outside of a space station, idling around a refueling station. You’d been wearing a dirty utility jumpsuit with the emblem of some IPC-owned subsidiary screen-printed on the pocket. Your eyes had been glassy and far away. When Welt asked if you were alright, you had smiled and told him, “Actually, I’ve never been worse.”

The Express loves strays. It’s ultimately what he, Stelle, and March are. Welt to some extent as well, especially considering his several layers of mystery. Himeko has the disposition of a kind leader and the heart of a mother, and for all of Pom Pom’s fretting, they are always interested in a new face aboard the Astral Express, for however long they choose to be there.

It’s sensical that you were given a shower, a hot meal, and a room before you even fully understood what you were signing up for with the Express.

Dan Heng was, notably, wary of you. It was the way you looked at him after the first night you slept on the Express (one where he had predictably been plagued with images of a body that wasn’t really his being fucked and loved in a way Dan Heng couldn’t conceptualize his actual self receiving). There was clear concern etched in your expression, however you never voiced it. Not at first.

It was only after a few weeks that March pointed out you hadn’t slept since your arrival that you revealed your hand.

A bloodline blessed by the Aeon of Dreams, Sacha. 

Dan Heng had heard of the Aeon, distantly. A seldom-traveled path, one for those with imagination run wild and a penchant for long naps. There were whispers that the Aeon was asleep, constantly. Otherwise, dead. Regardless, you bore the Godbeing’s blessing in some way.

You revealed this during a routine coffee break, just before Welt, March and Stelle descending to a little sandy moon. Perched on a chair, legs curled over your chest, you’d laughed when March pointed out your lack of good sleeping practices.

“I don’t need to, so I tend not to. It’s a difficult habit to break.” 

You had explained to Dan Heng and Himeko that you and your kin, a race descended from a small planet from a dead solar system, all bear this blessing. No need for sleep and—

“I perceive the dreams of others.”

Dan Heng had questioned, immediately— “Perceive?”

“That’s the best way to put it.” You meet his eye and you look slack in your shoulders. Unbearably calm and tired. “What you dream, I experience along with you. The more I focus in, the more vivid it is.”

(Dan Heng is horrified and doesn’t speak to you for a week.)

After some significant, quiet panic, Dan Heng had politely asked you to not perceive his dreams if you could help it. 

You’d told him you’d do your best.

And Dan Heng— appreciates the effort. Even if it's clear it's not working. You are so often up when he rises for his customary tea and jaunt, and tend to prod him a little. At least stop him to chat for a moment or tea. You’ll sneak in a cheeky comment or two, usually, but they’re so quick Dan Heng can’t do much more than blush and stumble over his next sentence.

You look highly amused and soft, those nights.

You never ridicule him, which he appreciates. More often you look pleasantly neutral, as if trying to emulate the aura of a familiar house plant near a skittish black cat.

(Dan Heng knows he is the skittish black cat.)

It’s— too much really. Dan Heng would rather bear it alone, take his cup of tea and do his laps, but he also can’t find it in him to tell you off too harshly. You tend to favor the parlor car, anyway. You get lost in the stars and galaxies they traverse easily. It would feel cruel to ask you to sequester yourself to your room simply so Dan Heng can brood more effectively.

Dan Heng does not know what to do about his own haunting (arousing) dreams, nor does he know what to do with you and your unfazed smiles.

...

You straddle Yingxing’s lap, thighs tense as you roll your hips. Your lover’s length grinds inside of you, stroking something small and hot and so good you could get drunk on it. You chase the sensation, selfish. Your hands are braced behind you, on Yingxing’s thighs as he is sprawled below. 

His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a knotted mess. A hastily ripped piece of fabric binds Yingxing’s wrist together and secure to the stained wood of the bed frame.  You were kind enough to carefully pull out his favored hairpin (a gift, one you commissioned him to make... for himself. Without his knowledge. Yingxing was moderately huffy about it until you tucked it into his hair yourself.) and set it aside. 

Yingxing is not a weak man, but you are a Dragon, and therefore keeping him restrained and tethered is not difficult. Usually, you allow Yingxing the privilege of carving out your insides at his leisure and pace. There’s a sweet torture to it you have found yourself having grown fond of. 

There is no other soul, mortal or otherwise, short-lived or long-lived, that you would allow to exert such control over you. Yingxing is an exception for you in so many ways. How dear this (foolish) craftsman has become to you.

“B-Beloved,” Yingxing’s voice is tight, strained. There’s sweat beading on his temples. “Might I persuade you into moving?”

You hum. Your tail wraps around his leg, from ankle to thigh and squeezes. The feathered tail flicks at Yingxing’s tense muscle and he jolts under you. A glittering laugh leaks from the corner of your mouth.

“Persuade me then.”

“Y-You’re not making this easy, are you?”

“I told you I wouldn’t. And you still agreed.”

“I thought the great Yinyue Jun would grant me some mercy at least. Excuse my wishful thinking. I thought that my dearest husband would forgo being a brat for at least a single night—”

You scoff.

You roll your hips, slow and deliberate. Yingxing’s words are cut off, killed in his throat as his eyes roll back into his skull. Keeping your core tight, you bury his cock in your hole to the hilt. You’re flush together, panting. It’s a tight squeeze, it always is. But the slight burn is familiar and welcome as you throw your head back and moan.

The sound is sin. If any of the Preceptors knew what this man did to you, he’d be drowned in Scalegorge within the day. 

Yingxing curses in a tongue you don’t know— it’s his mother’s language, he once told you. He tries to buck up into your heat, but you hold him down and steady. Clicking your tongue and racking your nails down his chest. Thin welts rise in your wake. Yingxing lets loose a choked gasp as you slide down on his cock. The stretch is so, so good. You crave this ache. You fantasize about it when you surely shouldn’t. It haunts your—

Dreams?

✶    ✶    ✶    ✶    ✶   ✶

Dan Heng wakes up so hard it physically hurts. He gasps, muffling a half-there sound into his pillow. It’s shameful. He feels out of his mind as he flips onto his stomach and ruts into his nest of blankets. The friction is dry, scratchy, and barely enough. However— the phantom sensations of a dead lover crawl over him. Nostalgic and tragic and nauseating.

He comes with a sob that he prays no one hears. He stains the front of his boxers as he grinds his oversensitive cock against the wet fabric. It’s too much. He’s too sensitive. It hurts, but Dan Heng doesn’t know what else to do.

He feels ashamed as he sits up and runs a hand over his face. 

It’s usually not this bad. Usually he can will away any arousal with logic. Reminding himself that the pleasant touch and face he remembers is long gone and was never his to have to begin with. Only on a few occasions has he woken up disoriented enough to forget himself to actually get off.

He needs to shower.

Dan Heng blearily leaves his room with his towel slung over his arm. The showers are on the other side of the passenger car. Dan Heng turns the spray on the highest heat, cooking himself as much as he can bear. There’s a latent energy in him that always swirls, begging him to push and pull the water around him, harness it for even a moment—

Before Dan Heng can entertain such things, he exits the spray, flushed bright red with his towel around his waist. 

As he exits the shower, he finds you. 

You’re perched one of the plush couches, tucked into a nook in the passenger car. Your signature blanket is not with you. You look— like shit. Dark circles stamped but your eyes look alight.

Dan Heng freezes as you notice him.

“... You alright?” You ask him.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure, bud?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

”You’re patronizing me.”

You stumble, “I don’t— I don’t mean to. That was just—”

“Please do not—”

“A lot.”

Your cheeks are flushed as you rub at them. Your gaze flits up to his then averts to the floor. You look... shy. It’s an expression he’s never seen you wear before, even when you were pulled onto the express filthy and in a heavily patched jumpsuit. 

Something in Dan Heng’s chest squeezes. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels entirely too exposed. He’s not fully dry, and he can feel droplets of water dripping from his hair down to his shoulders. His throat bobs as he gulps you watch the movement with rapt attention. 

He coughs.

“I asked you to refrain from viewing my dreams.”

“That one was loud.” You frown. “Incredibly loud. Like banging pots and pans, fireworks and explosives kind of loud. I couldn’t have ignored it, even though I very much want to. I’d love to give you your privacy, Dan Heng, but sadly the intricacies of your mind happen to make your dreams essentially unignorable.”

“Must you comment on them?”

“... I heard you crying after.” Your expression looks uncharacteristically torn up. Your lackadaisical smile and humor are nowhere to be found. “I was worried.”

“I can assure you, I am fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I do, regardless. The whole Express does.”

“I appreciate it. Though, it’s unnecessary.”

“Of course. Sure. Because you’re the paramount example of ‘not needing care’.”

“I’m self-sufficient.” This time, he frowns.

“You are.” You stand up and walk toward him. “‘Sufficient’ implies adequacy, not prosperity.”

“What are you implying?”

Your hands ball into fists at your sides, “That you, Dan Heng, seem like you could use some help. I won’t pry at your past, I’m aware it’s not my place to do so— however routinely having uncomfortably vivid sex dreams about a man who you clearly have complex feelings about, probably isn’t good for you. There’s an inevitable amount of strain. One that I think that you’re ignoring.”

“What help do you think I need?” His voice remains level, but your proximity has him wriggling under his skin.

“... I— could be a decent listener. I have all the time in the world. I’m always around at night.” You struggle to meet his gaze, but after a moment, your usual, easy smile erupts on your face. “Or, would you prefer more... direct assistance? I could help with that too.”

“Speak plainly.”

“Was the last time you had sex with the man in your dreams?”

Dan Heng’s throat closes up. The cloudhymn that are under his skin thrum and encircle him, for just a moment. Your eyes widen at the colors and hum of it and jump back. You almost stumble. The surge of power and energy shakes the passenger car. The whale-shaped light fixtures dance above you. 

Dan Heng swallows.

“And if it was?”

You look at him, really look at him, and your eyes soften. Your center looks wide and vulnerable despite the churn in the air, “Then, do you think it could, perhaps, be helpful to add some more recent, pleasurable memories for your dreams to play with?”

Dan Heng flushes so quickly, he feels faint.

The instinctual cloudhymns around him die in an instant. He retreats, a firm grip remaining on the towel around his waist to keep it in place. He mumbles out a hasty ‘goodnight’. 

He is unsure if you hear him.

... 

In the days that follow, neither Dan Heng nor yourself, bring up your proposition. 

The next morning, you look expectedly exhausted, but do not prod or pry at him any further. You sit at the long table for breakfast and munch on a piece of bread and some jam while Himeko goes over your next destination. 

The few times you look at him, your smile is lazy and easy, however you turn away quickly. 

You continue to skillfully avoid him. 

Dan Heng— feels a bit bad about it. Maybe a lot. If he enters common spaces like the parlor car or dining car, you quickly leave after a peripheral greeting. You must be doing so as to not tip off the rest of the crew that there’s some amount of… tension between the two of you. Under different circumstances, Dan Heng would have appreciated the purposeful discretion, however something about it irks him. 

The Express’s next destination is a repurposed space station at the edge of a solar system. A false sun, powered by a Stellaron— something to that effect. Stelle’s bodily composition is of some intrigue to the scientists looking to craft a replacement, while other factions wish to harness the Stellaron more directly than a not-so-distant source of light and heat. 

Himeko’s engineering expertise is being requested, along with Welt’s understanding of Imaginary energy. March wants to go due to the complex system of bioluminescent algae that teems in the space station’s plentiful aquaponics infrastructure. (“It looks so pretty! I need photos!”)

There are very few reasons for Dan Heng to accompany them; the party’s already full. There are even fewer reasons for you to join, who, despite all of your assurances, looks particularly haggard and worse for wear. Both March and Himeko mother hen you into staying aboard the Express to keep Pom Pom company.

Dan Heng should make an excuse to leave as well. Something in his gut tells him it would be best to keep his distance from you.

(It would be easier that way.)

However, Dan Heng finds himself waving goodbye to his companions as they dock at the small port. Pom Pom has requested at least a single treat from their excursion while they wave exuberantly from his side. 

You stand on Pom Pom’s right, lazily waving as well. Your shoulders are slumped.

As Pom Pom aways to dust the fixtures in the parlor car, Dan Heng faces you and speaks without thinking.

”You should rest.”

You blink owlishly at him. “… That’s not necessary.” 

”You don’t look well.”

”You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

”I am being serious.”

”So am I.” You roll your eyes and shrug. 

You attempt to walk away from him, but Dan Heng finds himself reaching out to grab your arm. His hand wraps around your forearm securely, firmly. 

You still, wide-eyed.

”You can sleep, can’t you?”

”… I mean, yes?” You frown, glancing at his hand then back to his face. 

“Would it help?”

”Help what?” 

Dan Heng deadpans. “You’re exhausted.”

”… Dearest Dan Heng, I am always in this state. I apologize if my withered countenance has caused you grief. I am fine.”

You attempt to wrench your arm from his grip, but he doesn’t let you go. Your frown deepens. 

“Being intentionally daft isn’t wise.”

You stare at him, “I’m not being ‘intentionally daft.’”

”I beg to differ.”

You mutter something in a tongue that Dan Heng doesn’t recognize. “What’s your deal? I apologize for getting into your business previously. I have been trying to give you ample space and shut out your dreams to the best of my ability. Is that not enough?”

”No.” No, no, no— that’s not really. It. Dan Heng isn’t sure what it is, but at this moment, his mood has little to do with your knowledge of his horrible, awful, persistent wet dreams, but something else. “I’m not upset at you for that.”

You stare and your hands ball into fists, “So, you’re really pestering me over my well-being?”

”Yes?”

”Aeons, Dan Heng.” You say his name in a croon and it makes him shudder. He wants to scream. “It really isn’t a big deal.”

”Is it straining you to not… perceive my dreams?”

Your expression goes blank. “I mean. Yes. But, it’s not a big deal—“

“You look awful.”

”You can’t have both.” You are clearly frustrated. Dan Heng’s grip is unrelenting. “I can’t— I can’t attempt to block out your silly sex dreams without a not-insignificant amount of effort. I’m either going to be very keyed into that pretty silver-haired man who you clearly wish was in your bed, or I’m going to look a bit more worse for wear. The latter, Dan Heng, does not bother me. Fretting over me isn’t going to make me less worn down.”

”And you just… don’t care that you’re tired?”

“I’m always tired.” You smile then, the same lazy, curling quirk of your lips that you so often wear, ever since the Express dragged you aboard from that rest stop. Dull-eyed and wearing a filthy utility jumpsuit. “I don’t want to cause you all any additional grief. I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.”

Dan Heng doesn’t know what to say.

“... That isn’t your choice.” The words feel paltry, half-there.

You pull your arm from his grip, thumbing at the spot where he held you. Your soft day clothes have rumbled under his grip, “That’s hilarious, coming from you, Dan Heng.”

“This is different.”

“How so?” 

“Because—” Dan Heng clicks his tongue. Something— something simmers just under his chest. Something bigger than himself, salty like the sea and heavy like green stone that writhes as you stare him down. “Because my dreams are my business. The man— men— in my dreams are my ills to carry. They should not affect my present. You shouldn’t be affected by them.”

“Well, crazy, but I am—” You go nose-to-nose with him and huff. Dan Heng backs into a railing behind him, back curving. “Because I don’t like seeing you in pain—”

Something kicks Dan Heng’s shin and he hisses. You jump away from him with a stumble, looking down at a glowering Pom Pom. Their tail twitches.

“No fighting in my parlor car!” Pom Pom huffs. “Does Pom Pom need to get Miss Himeko’s ‘get along’ shirt?”

“That’s not necessary,” Dan Heng rushes to say.

You’re already walking away, out of the parlor car with a shake of your head and one last wistful look.

...

You tear your heart from your chest.

It is expectedly painful, even if you braced for it. Even if in your deepest meditations, you simulated the pain of such a loss with cloudhymn to prepare for this moment, on the off chance you would need to lose your heart from between your ribs and give it to your beloved. So few of Long’s scions retain the ability to rebirth with multiple hearts— only a handful of high elders, really. You can imagine what they will say about you, think about this act you’re committing.

Sin. And a painful one.

The blade in your hand clatters to the ground as you hold your heart in your own palm. It’s large— a dragon’s heart. It will not fit in the chest of a mortal. 

(But, you will make it fit.)

Yingxing is— is— he’s dead. He’s a corpse on the ground below you. One of his arms is missing, while the other is twisted at a most unnatural angle. His star silver hair is a tangled knot in the dirt, Yingxing’s favored hairpin shattered somewhere in the foreground. The color is no longer pure. It’s a dirty scarlet. A mix of your beloved’s blood and Shuhu’s. 

Yingxing’s eyes are half open and dull. Purple turned bruised-petal lilac. His lip is split and blood trickles from the corner of his lips,

This is not to say anything about his middle which is—

Not really there.

It makes inserting the heart easier. You think so anyway. Your hands shake (they never have before, not like this) and you cry (you have not cried like this before) as you shove the heart into Yingxing’s necrotic chest. You have to further break his ribs to shove your heart into him. Cloudhymn spins around you— a storm, a gale for you. It dulls the screams from your younger companion begging you to stop. A beast roars in the distance, above it all. The sound makes the air tremble and split. Your ears would bleed, were you a weaker species. 

(A necessary sacrifice— she— she was already dead. Past saving. You only have two hearts. One which is yours and one which is now—)

Yingxing’s.

Your beloved flinches. Lurches as unnatural growth burgeons from him. He wails on the ground as magics spin within him. You are doing the most unholy thing to him. But, you must, right? You cannot lose him. You cannot lose Yingxing. You have given everything, always, as every self, to your role and its meaning— can you not have this one thing? May your beloved not stay by your side, however unfair and painful the circumstances?

Unblemished, ghostly pale tissue regrows from Yingxing’s body at an alarming pace. It rejoins his upper and lower halves together as he screams. 

Yingxing’s hands wrap around your neck and you’re shoved into the dirt. You are not expecting the force and the impact, even less so. The air knock out of you and the cloudhymns shudder. The magics are thinner for a moment, you could see your other companions if you chose to. You could see how many Xianzhou cloud knights have fallen to the beast you created.

You ignore them.

You ignore them all to look up at your beloved. Eyes now a wild red, teeth glimmering white and stained with blood. His hair has darkened, silver turned dark, like it had been dipped in thick, viscous oil. Yingxing bares his teeth and screams at you. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO!”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, DAN FENG!”

—!

✶    ✶    ✶    ✶    ✶   ✶

Dan Heng awakens to a silent Astral Express. The trainship is still docked and it’s running on ancillary power in the meantime. 

It’s entirely too quiet. All he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

He scrambles to grab at his own chest— there’s no gaping hole. There’s no— there’s no blood on his hands (not real, material blood anyway . Various parties would beg to differ as to if he has any actual blood on his hands. But, the past is the past, isn’t it? These dreams are the afterimages of the life of a deadman. That’s all they can be. The man that chases him across the universe bears a different name and a younger face. The man who will always make time for him on a Godship, so very far away, may use his name ‘Dan Heng’, but is that who he truly sees when he looks at Dan Heng?)

Dan Heng dry heaves into his hands.

He barely manages to crawl to the little bathroom attached to his room to puke his brains out. He hasn’t had much of an appetite over the past few days, and most of what comes up is water, pile, and half-digested rice porridge.

By the time he withdraws and flushes, wiping his hand over his mouth, he feels winded. Disgusting. Sweaty and entirely too wet. 

Shower.

Dan Heng methodically grabs his few supplies and walks across the silent Astral Express to the showers. He could take a bath— maybe it would help. March keeps minty bath products out and available that are so strong that they tend to pull any of the Express’s passengers out of a funk if used. There’s a little basket of them in the tiled common area of the baths. There’s a hand-written note in March’s perfect scrawl that says “Please take one❤️!) 

Dan Heng snatches a few before picking his favored, individual shower. There’s a little atrium before entering the shower itself, where he sheds his drenched bedclothes and hangs them, along with his towel. He turns on the shower and idles for a moment, listening to the dull roar of it.

Water splashes onto him in droplets. There’s a (dormant. Dormant. He swears it’s dormant) instinct to ball the errant water up and toy with it with cloudhymn. The pearl that idles in the center of Cloud Piercer has many different ways to harness its power beyond a weapon of steel that—

(Isn’t his, is it?)

Dan Heng wants to vomit again. He steps into the spray before the nausea overtakes him.

The spray is cold— he usually takes cold showers, regardless of if it’s after a particularly intimate dream. He prefers cold water. He enjoys cold baths, but they’re a luxury he enjoys only once in a while, and usually for the better part of a day. He’ll stay submerged for what would be a worrisome amount of time (if he didn’t bear the spare parts of imbibitor lunae) and, despite his assurances, worries the rest of the crew. As sedentary and reclusive as Dan Heng can be, camping out in the baths for the better part of a day causes a stir amongst the express.

They’re a treat, a bothersome one.

Now, he washes himself thoroughly. It’s a mechanical and rhythmic thing. It soothes him. His breath comes steadier.

Dan Heng hasn’t had a dream that unpleasant in quite some time. He has always had the more gruesome— of tragedies beyond this knowledge. But, they’re rarer. He is haunted more frequently by memories of pleasure and that almost makes the shadow of Dan Feng more cloying. The gruesome are just that— gruesome. He has put together pieces of Dan Feng’s sin, though he refuses to touch the Archive’s documents ported from the Luofu on the subject. 

Ignorance is bliss and Dan Heng feels knowledgeable enough. The breach between his own memories and Dan Feng’s is less solid than it once was. Dan Heng will more than likely find out with time.

It despairs him for a moment as he turns off the water and towels off. He feels— more lucid. Better. 

He’s surprised that you haven’t sought him out.

There’s— no way you didn’t perceive that dream. Dan Heng can’t be entirely sure what you mean when you call a dream ‘loud’, but he knows the very real pain he felt during it could constitute as such. He listens closely as he dresses in new bedclothes. The Express is still quiet aside from machine hum.

Dan Heng could check on you. He thinks about it. Your room is just past Stelle’s and considering you weren’t in the parlor car, you’re probably there.

You shouldn’t have seen that. But, it’s not like Dan Heng can help it, right? 

The tangle of feelings within Dan Heng writhes as he exits the showers. It grows even more unruly as he notes a change in the parlor car.

Resting on one of the plush seats is a hastily folded blanket, a still-steaming cup of tea, and a small, folded note.

Dan Heng approaches and reads.

DH

i’ve noticed you like my blankets. take this one. it’s one of my favorites.

have some tea and rest if you can.

— [name] ╰(*°▽°*)

The penmanship is shaky, and clearly quickly written. None of the paper’s folds match up with each other. There’s a spill of tea on the coffee table that looks half-wiped away. 

Something heavy settles in Dan Heng’s gut. He gathers the blanket, the tea, and your note and heads back to the archives with a pit in his chest.

Like he’s still missing a heart.

...

Things come to a head a few days later. The rest of the Astral Express crew is still sorting things on the space station, and you and Dan Heng only have so much space to dodge each other.

And, truthfully? Dan Heng stopped avoiding you the day before yesterday. Now, he is actively (read: passively but passionately) trying to seek you out. This involves listening keenly for when you leave your room, but lately, those trips are few and far between. And always occurring while Dan Heng is asleep. Pom Pom confirms this, looking increasingly uneasy at the clear tension between the two of you.

Dan Heng— doesn’t know what to do. He is good at running from his problems. He put Cloud Piercer through— Blade’s chest any number of times and hopped to the next planet more times than he cared to think about. He ran from the shackling prison, the Luofu, and its General without looking back even in a cursory way. Dan Heng finds sentimentality to be a new feeling, a new fixture within his person and does not know how to handle it. He does not want to run away from you— he wants to run toward you.

The blankets of yours (three in total) are in his nest. He paces the passenger car each night hoping you’ll reveal yourself. He hovers outside of your door, hand poised to knock, but he never does.

He does not know what he’d say. 

Dan Heng does not have confidence in his words in that way. He can speak well— it’s an overhang from Dan Feng, and he is grateful for it, but on more than one occasion, March has (rather explosively) shouted at him for being so... blank-faced in the heat of an emotional conflict. The two of them occasionally do butt heads, usually when March is attempting to run headfirst into a situation without proper forethought, and those encounters have ended with March tearfully screaming at Dan Heng to just be “honest with his face!” 

His lack of expression is also an overhang for Dan Feng. 

No matter how well-crafted his sentences and well-spoken his words, Dan Heng cannot connect them to how he feels... effectively. It’s disjointed. Like armor made with incorrectly sized plates that cannot possibly be pieced together. Clothing created with a misdrawn pattern, never able to be sewn in a wearable way. 

If he were to face you, he is certain he will not be able to voice how he feels.

He can at least— do something. Give you something, since you seem so hellbent on leaving him special tea blends you’ve stashed away and BLANKETS. 

(Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?)

Dan Heng stops trying to run from you. He resolves to do something or say something because it's better than the widening rift that’s currently being run through the Astral Express, between the two of you. 

Dan Heng gets his opportunity in the late evening. He’d— feigned sleep. Intentionally. A deep state of meditation for long enough that you might think he was enjoying a dreamless night of sleep, however, he’d only be idle, waiting for sounds of any of your activity in the direction of the parlor and meal car. 

Dan Heng hears your door slide open down the hall as he sits upright, cross-legged in his nest of many blankets and pillows. Your steps are quiet, the lightest pad against the flooring outside. He strains to hear you.

He does notice, however, how you move even slower as you walk past his door. So clearly intentionally trying to keep quiet for his sake.

Dan Heng waits a few minutes until he’s certain you’re either in the Parlor Car or Meal Car before uncrossing his legs and bounding from his room. He means— to be more put together about this. But, he’s nervous he’ll miss his chance, and you’ll retreat, and be gone for longer—

Dan Heng finds you in the meal car, poking over cold dinner leftovers with a sullen expression. Your brows are heavy, eyes dull. You look— awful. You always look awful, he’s sure you’ll assure him, but now you look bad. You look ill. Unwell. The oversized shirt hanging from your shoulders billows in an uncomfortable way. It has too many undone buttons, leaving a deep v, exposing too much of your chest.

You look up at him, eyes widening.

“I thought you were asleep.” You say softly, putting down the tongs you had been using. You didn’t bother picking up any food, your little bowl is entirely empty. 

Dan Heng opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He snaps it shut a moment later.

Your eyes soften and you sag. You look like you could melt into the Express’s floor at any moment. Your eyes radiate... pity. 

“Did I wake you? I try to be quiet.” You laugh, looking sidelong, out one of the many windows. “Sorry about the fuss. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Dan Heng is frozen.

You idle, only for a moment, holding your breath, before shaking your head minutely. It— it makes his palms sweat. You try to shuffle past him. Dan Heng is blocking your only exit, and you attempt to side-step him as he gapes at you, unmoving. Unsure.

Dan Heng grabs you by the forearm as you pass.

He holds you there. Steady. His grip is firm and unyielding. Maybe too tight, based on your sharp intake of breath as you wobble in place. Dan Heng steadies you with his other hand. Without— thinking, his palm lands on your ribcage and you jump with the contact.

You stare at him, wide-eyed. 

And you face each other.

“You’re avoiding me.” Dan Heng speaks first. His words feel sure, but there’s a sticky feeling in his chest.

“... Perhaps.” You smile easily, despite how worn you look. “It seems like you have a lot on your mind. I didn’t want my presence and what it entails to burden you, dearest Dan Heng. I apologize if that wasn’t clear.”

“What do you mean by your ‘presence and what entails’?” 

You look like you’ve been punched. Dan Heng feels ill. 

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“Please be straightforward. 

“Kind Dan Heng, I am—” 

“Please, explain yourself.” Dan Heng feels— frustration bubble up into the back of his throat. It’s acidic. He looks from the grip he has on your arm to your face, lingering on the chapped lines of your lips before meeting your eyes. “Why do you think you would burden me?”

You look at him sadly, “I thought we’ve been over this.”

“We haven’t, to my knowledge.”  Dan Heng frowns. You look like you’ve been slapped.

“I apologize.” You shouldn’t be. “Dan Heng, don’t I know too much?”

He locks his jaw. 

You continue. “You’re an incredibly private person. I don’t want to know about a past you’re clearly not comfortable sharing. I cannot help what I am able to perceive, however I can create some distance between the two of us, so as not to suffocate you with the fact that I know about your dirty laundry without your expressed consent.”

Dan Heng’s mouth is dry. 

You’re an unbearably earnest individual. As mysterious as you make yourself, you don’t tend to lie. You’re blunt in a way that’s disarming, heart flayed open as if rended with a short, sharp blade, on display for anyone who would like to view and poke at it. 

“I apologize for communicating that more effectively,” You add more softly. You place your hand over his, the one bracing your arm. You squeeze. “It must be hard to bear those things, and you’ve made it clear you wish to do so alone. I want to respect that and you, Dan Heng. My door is always open, but I thought it might be easier for you to not... be reminded so easily, by my presence.”

Your eyes are wet as you look away from him, to the floor. You take the smallest, most guarded intake of breath. It looks like you’re trying not to cry.  

Dan Heng feels something cold and large in his chest. Big enough to swallow him whole. 

He says your name, even and unwavering, with the weight of the sea behind it. You glance up at him, straining to give him your same lazy, forced smile—

And he kisses it off your lips.

It’s not an action Dan Heng thinks about. You’re almost close enough to feel each other’s breath regardless. One moment, he is staring at you with his own frown, and the next his lips are on yours, tilting his head to search for the best angle. The force of the action has you stumbling back into the wall behind you. The hand he kept on your ribs moves to your waist, bracing you.

It takes a moment for you to react. A startled little (whimper, a whimper) sound gets muffled by his lips as he cradles your jaw. Deepening the gesture. You react and— return it. Moving your lips against his, leaning into his grip. 

Only to freeze, and shove at his shoulders a moment later, “W-Wait.”

Dan Heng pulls back, panting.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell him. There’s an urgency in your voice like you’re scared. You nervously run your hands up and down his arms. Dan Heng doesn’t even think you’re aware you’re doing so. “I— I offered sex to you seriously, but— don’t just take my affection because you want to close the distance. There’s other ways to be intimate, you know?”

“I’m aware,” says Dan Heng. Your lips are just barely kiss bruised. He wants to make it worse. It’s an easier expression of the gulf in his chest that writhes with your closeness. “However, I want to fuck you.”

The dullness of your eyes is stolen as they widen. Heat rises in your cheeks. You’re stunned speechless.

...

Dan Heng wants to eat you.

As in, he wants to have you in his mouth, under his teeth and tongue, and get you in his gut so you never go away again. It’s— a draconic instinct. Something carnal and old that could swallow him alive. It is another overhang from Dan Feng. Such bloody impulses aren’t... uncommon for Dan Heng. However, he has learned to temper them with training, combat, and more recently, some expression of cloudhymn.

Never sex, however. Because your initial guess was correct. Dan Heng has not ever had sex, and the last time Dan Feng had had sex, he is fairly certain was a teary, bloody affair with a half-dead, bloodied Yingxing. 

This encounter, however, is very different.

There is no swirling Scalegorge and broken, coral-lined streets. There is no sand grating against his knees over Yingxing's almost-corpse. There is no tempest of his own making, cracking the sky in two, and tearing the world asunder.

Rather, there is his nest of blankets and pillows, and your soft body below him. He straddles your waist, protecting the curve of your thighs with his own. The lights of the Archive’s room are dim, the machine hum below is lulling background noise and comforting. And you— you’re warm— not cold or bloodied. Your eyes are soft, but keen in a different way from the man in the echoes of memory. There’s no sharpness to you, not in your words or your presence.

You’re gentle as you cup Dan Heng’s jaw and drag him closer to kiss him.

“You’re thinking pretty hard.” You murmur against his lips. “Are you sure you want this?”

The question makes him— angry. He still doesn’t know how to voice it, so instead he pressed you down into the floor. A bodily expression.

Your hands tangle in his hair and stroke at the lower curve of his skull. It’s gentle, rhythmic and lulling. It’s nothing like—

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing tears at your scalp, hands wound into your long hair. His cock is buried in your throat, bullied there at your request. He’s seated so deep that your nose is buried in the bristly, silver hairs at the base of him. His scent is intoxicant, musky and unclean. Instinct tells you it’s impure, but you have learned that’s conditioning.

You want to swallow him whole.

You swallow around his cock as Yingxing grinds into your throat. You gag, you always do, but Yingxing ignores you in favor of fucking your face with more vigor. The sounds that drag from you are obscene. Ugly things, guttural sounds. Tears drip down your cheeks, spit down your chin—

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You kiss him softly, pliant beneath him and snake a hand lower, easily. It’s practiced. Like you’ve done this a hundred times. The rhythm of intimacy seems easy. You palm over his increasingly hard cock and smile against his lips.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, voice soft and curling. 

Before Dan Heng can reply, you’re licking up his jaw, to his ear. You nip and suck and Dan Heng can’t help the way his eyes roll back in his head. He groans, rolling his hips against your hand. The friction is dry, but it’s something. Something new and different and not an arousing nightmare. But an arousing reality.

He moans at the contact. The sound startles him.

You seem pleased as you hum against his ear and kiss down from his most sensitive spot, lower, licking over skin with practiced motions. You nip at his collarbones, laughing under your breath when Dan Heng twitches with the pressure of it.

Dan Heng feels— thoroughly disarmed. The feeling grows more intense as you coax him to flip your positions in the next moment.

His back hits the mound of pillows softly. You cradle the back of his head as he moves and massage his scalp.

It’s— the care of it that feels different. There was clearly care between Dan Feng and Yingxing. Too much, in Dan Heng’s opinion— (they shared the kind of care that tore history asunder, love so brilliant and cloying that it could only bring sticky destruction). The kind you give him is different. There’s a warmth in your gaze which is foreign. Yingxing held passion and a brightly burning heat that would surely burn itself out too young. Branding heat.

Yours is tender, the warmth of a hearth you stacked and lit yourself. You beckon him closer with a smile on your lips and hands tangled in his hair. You tug on it, with the barest edge of pain. Dan Heng likes it. 

Your knee slots between his thighs, something to grind onto. He can’t help the way he yearns for more contact, and seeks the friction. His pants are too tight, but he doesn’t want to remove them yet.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing tears off your clothes. Your finest robes— the ceremonial ones, silks with intricate embroidery and beaded with perfectly cut crystals— are in tatters by your bedside within moments. Yingxing’s want is unyielding. The lips that move against your own are so much, and so good. You crave it. Yingxing licks into your mouth and you moan loud enough for your entire home to hear. Never mind your attendants and preceptors. 

Let them talk. Let them gossip. You have never cared for legacy regardless.

Yingxing rips away your undergarments. Gossamer things, thin and mostly see-through. You’re already hard, leaking, aching for touch. Yingxing spits on his palm and strokes you. He doesn’t stop as you squirm. You’re not used to touch, especially not like this. No matter how often Yingxing takes you like this, your body cannot fully acclimate quickly. 

It takes a moment.

Yingxing uses this to his advantage. He holds you like he has something to prove as he swipes away pre from the head of your cock and licks it off his thumb. He looks smug, smitten, vibrant, and enthralled.

“How many times can I make you come tonight?” Yingxing purrs, voice rough and silken all at once. You feel your cock twitch in his hand. He smirks. “What if I break you?”

“I’d throw you through a window.” You snap at him.

“You wouldn’t.” Yingxing rubs down to the base of your cock and plays with your most tender parts. You try to kick him and he catches your ankle. Yingxing, the bastard he is, presses a kiss to your ankle. Reverent. “You like it when I break you.”

“You’re terrible.”

“And I’m yours. And I’d like to make Yinyue-Jun cry tonight.” 

It’s— humiliating the way he speaks to you sometimes. He adores you. He loves you. And for that reason, he knows he can get away with goading you on and shoving you around as he does. He knows intimately what it all does to you. The way your cheeks flush and your cock leaks down its shaft are enough of an indicator. No one sees you bare. Just— him.

Just him.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Dan Heng starts to remove your clothes. 

You seem surprised when he does. You try to take over the task yourself, but Dan Heng bats your hands away.

He wants to do this.

Dan Heng is methodical with each button and overly careful. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, noting how it hastens as he works on the last few buttons. The garment is pushed off your shoulders and discarded into his nest.

Seeing you bare is— vulnerable. Surely. You attempt to smile but— Dan Heng sees the cracks in it. As lax as you try to be, this is something different for you as well. Another mystery woven into you that Dan Heng wants to pick apart.

He rubs at your hips, up your ribs and to your chest. You gasp with his touch, leaning back to brace yourself on his thighs. It exposes you more, and— gives him more room to indulge. He cups your breast and steels his resolve when you whine.

Dan Heng has never done this. He wasn’t sure he ever would. It feels foreign and odd to touch you this way, but Dan Heng likes it. The heat that rises in your cheeks when he pinches your nipples. The soft puffs of breath and the sweat of arousal that’s growing on your temple. You roll your hips down onto his clothed cock, seeking the same contact he does. 

There’s a tumble to it then. The task of disrobing continues, and you end up entirely nude on top of him, while Dan Heng is still fully clothed.

“... Is this more comfortable for you?” You ask. You aren’t... shy about your body. But there’s an unfamiliar squirm in your upper half that Dan Heng reads as discomfort.

You’re exposed. He is not.

“Somewhat.” Dan Heng lays his hand flat over his navel. He imagines what his cock would feel like inside you and he nearly blacks out.

“Why?”

Dan Heng thinks for a moment—

(It’s because Dan Feng liked power. He loved the games where he could have all of the power and control in his hands, and those where it was torn from him as well. He reveled in both. This— want is an afterburn. One that is not Dan Heng’s. Just like every other thought of intimacy and sex that Dan Heng has ever felt—)

“Dan Heng,” You breathe his name and pet his cheeks. You’re closer now, chest to chest. “Can you tell me why? It’s okay if you can’t.”

“It’s too complicated.”

“... Could you try to tell me, still? We have time.”

“I want to fuck you.”

“You can. After.”

Dan Heng frowns at you. He wants to tell you that— he wants it now. And that patience is something he has in spades but you are testing the limits of. Your poking and prodding, he wants to toss it aside in favor of the literal you in his lap.

He wets his lips as you look at him expectantly. You stroke over his cheek, soothing him as if he were an angry kitten.

“I like that—” Dan Heng starts, and his words die in his throat. What he wants to say—

(“I like that I can see all of you, while not revealing any of myself.”)

You seem like less of a mystery like this, bare and sweaty over top of him. There’s less of you that you can obscure. You’re not hiding from him, dodging him, or flaying him open with honesty while so much of you remains tucked away. You cannot hide your own arousal. Your cheeks are hot with it, your pupils dark and dilated, and your lips are licked and wet. 

“Hm?” You hum, a devious smirk stretching over your lips. You grind down onto his cock, with enough pressure that it almost hurts. His eyes roll back into his head. “Can’t you tell me, Dan Heng? Why do you like hiding the way you do?”

Dan Heng stills, opening his eyes to blink at your incredulously.

“... Why do ‘I’ hide?” Dan Heng asks. His tone is rude. He internally slaps his own wrists then forgives himself, because in the next moment, you have your palm over his cock, gripping the length of him through the fabric of his pants. You flick your thumb over where the head is concealed and look smitten with the way his hips jolt.

“I am not a fool.” You toy with the button on his trousers. “Dan Heng, the Nameless, who hides and hides and hides. And feels so infinitely bad when a single card in his hand is revealed. The shame you carry, doesn’t it burden you?”

Dan Heng’s mouth is dry, “I—”

“You can hide like this. I won’t stop you,” You hum, still smiling, still lax in the shoulders. You run a hand up his navel, over his shirt, careful to retain his frail modesty. “Perhaps a bit bashful, yes. But, you’re hiding. How can you crave intimacy when you’re seeking it from behind a veil? Dearest Dan Heng, I will indulge you, because you are dear to me, but will it be fulfilling—?”

You prattle on.

Dan Heng is... seething. Quietly and carefully. Because, you are not wrong. There’s truth to your accusations. You speak no lies, yet the way you’re... delivering the truth is frail and in fragments. Your own eyes look hazy. Your touch grows shaky. Your voice is too soft around the edges for the sharpness of your words. 

Dan Heng—

He knows that look.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You have never had sex before. 

You’ve read about it, because your Preceptors made sure you did when you were young. This was in the case that you were raped, that you would know what the experience was, so it could be reported in an appropriate and timely manner. 

Your exposure to sex beyond that was minimal. Though Vidyadhara copulated, it was not for the sake of procreation. It was based in pleasure, supposedly. You had learned that the humans and foxians of the Xianzhou had sex for the sake of pleasure and power which... you cannot understand. You don’t endeavor to understand it, as you have all of the power that you need. 

(You are naive for this, you will learn in time.)

The first time Yingxing implores you to have sex, you know the rote motions. You assume— that since he is a human, this is what he wants from you. You let Yingxing push you down on your own mattress, and you lay there. Yingxing speaks as he disrobes himself, then tends to you.

Each layer of clothing he removes from your body feels like you’re being cut with a knife.

You haven’t let any attendants dress you since you learned to adeptly use Cloudhymn to assist yourself instead. You frequently wear three, sometimes four, layers of silken clothing, even when you are around your own home. 

No one sees Yinyue-Jun bare.

And yet, Yingxing peels back each garment without much reverie. He undoes metal and mother-of-pearl clasps with a dexterous flick of his fingers and a dashing, sharp-toothed smile over his lips. 

You look down at his own chest when he pushes away the final layer. Your skin is milky, untouched cream. You’re too skinny, the muscle you have is wiry without enough fat. You watch your own chest rise and fall— so quickly. Too quickly. 

When you look up at Yingxing, whatever smile he had worn is gone. He wears concern so transparently over his brow as he cups your cheek. His lips move, and you do not hear him. Your own lips still move, an instinctual reply even if you do not register your own words. You can predict what you’re saying.

(“I am fine.)

(“There is no need to worry about me.”)

(“You are foolish for worrying about me.”)

Yingxing softens after you speak, and thumbs over your lips. The pads of his fingers are rough. You can feel the heat callouses, born of friction and incidental burns. It’s so much different from your own flesh, constantly-healing, pure and so rarely bruised.

Yingxing deftly falls to your side, and scoops you in his arms. He smells like iron and smoke. You’re stiff at his side. 

He speaks directly in your ear, nosing the shell of it, “As much as I would love to bed Yinyue-Jun, I can recognize when I need to be a gentleman about it.”

“... Pardon?” You swallow. Your voice is foggy in your own ears.

Yingxing’s hand settles on his hip. He pulls back just enough to look at you, nose to nose, violet eyes soft in the amber sway of candles in the room. 

“Yinyue-Jun is very brave, for a virgin.” This time, Yingxing smiles like a menace. You punch his back and he seems unperturbed. “Let’s take our time. You have plenty of it, and I have enough to show you how to enjoy this well.”

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Dan Heng understands, then. 

In a smooth motion, he raises his palm to fit over your mouth. You stop speaking beneath it, and you snatch his wrist up in your own grip.

“If I am hiding, then so are you,” Dan Heng says. There is no waver to his voice anymore. “And you are terrified.”

You freeze above him.

It’s enough of an opening for Dan Heng to knit his legs with your own, and drag you down into his nest. He wraps his arms around you, chest-to-chest (covering you, hiding you himself, keeping you safe and sating that fanged, draconic howl in his chest that will never fully quiet). You remain stiff in his arms, eyes wide and you’re not smiling. 

Your gaze flickers up to his and holds it, unrelentingly.

“I don’t mind doing things scared.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Will you enjoy it if you’re scared?”

“... Maybe less, but it’ll feel nice.” You shrug, nosing at his jaw. “I like you, Dan Heng. I wouldn’t have offered sex if I didn’t want to have it.”

Dan Heng locks his jaw. He noses down your jaw, down your neck, to the juncture where your shoulder meets it. The flesh is tender. You have your free arm draped carefully over your chest, covering your most exposed, vulnerable portions as he tries to do the same to you. Your breath is soft, bated as he hovers.

“I don’t want to have sex with you if it will only feel ‘nice’,” Dan Heng says into the hollow of your throat. 

“How demanding.”

The bar is on the fucking ground. “I do not think so.”

Dan Heng slides a hand lower, between your thighs. You’re only wearing shorts, soft amiri-cotton that sparkles in the lowlight of the archive’s room. It’s a thin garment. It takes nothing for Dan Heng to cup a hand over your sex. With dexterity and focus, he presses his middle finger closer. The seam of your cunt is wet, even through the fabric.

“Are you scared or nervous?” He asks.

“Hm, what about you?”

“Do not dodge my question.” He squeezes over your cunt and you clutch at his shoulders with a gasp. “Just answer it.” 

You consider his question, and open your mouth like you’re going to attempt to parry him, then close it again. Your lips are smooth, petal-soft as he thumbs over them, urging them to stay closed until you have an answer. 

Dan Heng struggles with eye contact, but forces himself to stare you down. 

“Both?” You ask behind his finger. There’s a hint of mirth behind your words.

Dan Heng frowns, “How can it... be enjoyable for you?”

“... That’s a good question.” You look far-off for a moment, not there in his nest. “Not quite sure, but I’m sure I can.”

There’s an implicit ‘I have before’ that you do not say. However, with the way your head falls limply to the side in his grip, Dan Heng immediately knows he hit one of your rare soft spots. He— he immediately regrets it. He’s in uncharted territory that he strong-armed his way into. And he— he doesn’t know the way out. He’s a sexless virgin who masturbates once every three months and his most emotionally (and sexually) charged relationship is with the living ghost of a man insistent on killing him.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

Yingxing does not remember much of his youth.

Dan Feng knows this intimately. 

The short-lived have expiring memories that seem to muddle the old over time. Dan Feng cannot understand, as his memory is pristine and clear from the time he emerged from the ancient sea in a jade-colored egg.

Yingxing remembers the Zhuming, vaguely, and then remembers arriving on the Luofu. He vaguely remembers his first meeting with Baiheng, and sleeping on a little cot in her tiny apartment while he worked his way up in the Artisanship Commission. Lucidly, these are his earliest memories.

Outside of lucidity, Dan Feng knows Yingxing remembers more.

Occasionally, something will make Yingxing remember his unpleasant, smallest youth. The loud boom of the Luofu’s biggest fireworks. A snarling dog. Splintering wood. The scent of burnt hair.

It makes Yingxing stiffen, tense, and draw up in himself.

Dan Feng has done his own research early on. In his adolescence, Yingxing was nothing more than a scrappy refugee with nothing to his name.

Yingxing’s home planet, a lush-planet... abundant in jungle lands and river systems, was plundered by abundance. Borisins. Most of its population was wiped out. Yingxing escaped due to good fortune, luck, and no doubt sacrifices he couldn’t remember.

He understands Yingxing’s passion and revulsion much better after he learns these things. 

It all enrages Dan Feng.

Yingxing’s fragmented memory, which continues to weather with time, can only give him the basest impulses when faced with something that makes him remember that frightening time. Even if he cannot remember in the mind, then he does in the body.

Dan Feng does not tell Yingxing that he knows. Yingxing is too proud a man— he’ll take offense and cause trouble. Dan Feng thinks it is better that he himself hold the knowledge, and soothe him how he can. Dan Feng can stew within himself, hone Cloud Piercer, and cut those who slighted his beloved. 

It is something beyond duty. 

An expression of care, one that tastes briny and bloody on Dan Feng’s fangs.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

“Can I help?” Dan Heng asks.

You blink at him. He strokes down your cheek. You hum and press your lips into his palm.

“Can you?”

“I— I will,” Dan Heng stammers. “How can I make this less... scary, for you?”

Can he?

Your gaze penetrates him. It’s something sharp, seeking. Looking for his weak spots for a moment. You’re searching for danger in him.

You soften and cozy up closer, a moment later.

“Just... take your time, and I’ll take mine.” You kiss him, and speak against his lips. “It’s easier if we both can ease into it.” 

Dan Heng nods. He... he wants to fuck you. He will.

...

You pick each other apart. Bit by bit, piece by piece. 

It is a slow affair, one neither of you truly lead. You spur Dan Heng on, and he follows. 

He guides you when he can, when it feels natural and normal. You seem content in those moments, more relaxed and soft-eyed.

You do not wear a full facade all of the time, but Dan Heng now knows that you are careful to keep yourself skillfully hidden. 

Dan Heng finds this out, intimately, while he is between your thighs, tongue against your slit. He laps at you, in the motions you describe. Your hands are buried in his hair, directing him with your grip and the gentle grind of your hips against his face. It is— heavenly. Your thighs around his ears, the scent of you. He left a few pointed bite marks on your thighs, which you had yelped at.

He enjoyed giving them.

You fall apart against his mouth in a way he hasn’t seen before.

It’s— so good to watch. When he looks up at you, you gasp, you whine, and throw your wrist over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re letting out. Each gasp has Dan Heng earnestly trying to wring more out of you. He watches your eyes roll back as you crest. Your thighs clamp around his skull and a broken sound rips from your throat. He guides you through it, then moves to your hole, lapping at your essence until he’s sure he’s drenched in it.

You pull him up for a kiss, and lick into his mouth. Your hands shake as they pet over his cheeks and jaw. Against his lips, you tell him— “you did so well”, “that was so good”, “thank you” —

The praise is almost unbearable Dan Heng has to hide his burning face in your neck to escape the vulnerability of it. 

You pay it no mind, and just laugh at him, smothering your lips into his mused-up hair.

It’s— it’s good. It’s good and soft and nothing like the dreams he’s carried with him for fair too long.

“Did you enjoy that?” You ask him, forcing him to look at you.

“I did.”

“Good.” You’re smitten with the answer and rub at his waist. You’d— clawed off his shirt at one point. Bare to each other. Dan Heng only has on his final layer of underwear that is increasingly tight and wet, with a growing patch of pre on the front.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” You ask. Your hand, gentle, slides down his front, between your bodies to rub over his cock. 

Dan Heng— struggles to find words as you tease the head of it with the tip of a finger. The smile you wear is devilish. 

“Maybe later—” He manages. “I want to— be inside you.”

He wants to be closer.

You look content with that, and pet him some more.

“In due time,” You kiss his cheek. “Will you allow me to be cruel, and make you wait a little longer?”

“It’s not cruel.”

“Okay, mean then.”

“You’re the furthest thing from mean.” Dan Heng frowns. He bites your cheek in retaliation without thinking and you squirm, pinned beneath him. A laugh bubbles from your throat, and Dan Heng can’t help but twin the sound. 

“So kind.”

...

Time stretches out, between languid kissing and the feel of your bare bodies so close, the night and day cycles the Express regulates do not seem of consequence. It’s the most relaxed Dan Heng has been in recent memory. You make it easy to be so.

You have no expectations when you touch him, other than the easy exchange of heat and spit. 

By the time Dan Heng has your legs wrapped around your waist, cock against your hole, he’s light-headed. He wants, so much. The image of you laid out before him, bare and covered in various marks of his, will be with him for years. There’s nothing lazy or unfocused about your gaze now, there’s only desire, so hot and needy that it makes Dan Heng’s throat feel tight.

You flex your hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit. You both gasp.

“Please, Dan Heng?” You say smugly as you play with the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“I—” The words die in his throat.

He strokes up and down the flesh of your stomach. Your muscles are relaxed, soft. You’re no longer playing a role, he thinks. You’re here, wanting, edging toward begging him. The head of his cock is purple from strain and prolonged arousal. 

He presses into you slowly.

You are stretched, and Dan Heng isn’t particularly large, so he does not see any strain cross your features. If anything, there’s relief. If you were relaxed before, you’re boneless now, taking as much of him as he will give you.

Dan Heng fucks you in earnest then, under the glow of the Archive’s many machines and fixtures. You grab at his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. Dan Heng didn’t think he shared Dan Feng’s proclivity for pain, however the way your nails wrack down his back has him throbbing from inside you.

By the time he spills inside you, he’s gasping, sobbing with each thrust because it is so much. Closeness— like this— that’s real and tangible and in his grasp and within his body (only his, no one else’s) feels so vibrant and violent, it cleaves him open. He comes with a broken sound muffled into your throat, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh there. You let him, spasming with the pressure and letting out your own half-cry with the pain. Dan Heng fucks you through his orgasm, until he can’t support his weight on his knees, and he falls on top of you.

You let out a little ‘oof’, and then laugh, wrung out and happy. 

Dan Heng cherishes the memory.

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

You are most tired, but you must continue to move forward.

Despite your aching rear and scratchy eyes, there are duties to attend to. Never mind that your husband is in your bed, knocked out, regardless of whatever regenerative cloudhymns you could give him. Yingxing is mortal, and no matter how much of you he consumes (figuratively), it only slows his aging, never stopping it completely.

Yingxing will die, long before you do. And that is if he dies of old age and not the diseases and maladies of the short-lived. Or some violence that you and the rest of the Quintet will be unable to protect him from.

This will not do.

You enter your study with sweeping, loose robes. You tell your attendants to leave you be. Your ritual obligations are not until the evening. Until then, you will be confine yourself in your study and continue to pour over the scrolls, documents, and books you have been able to find. It has been hard to procure some of them— having Sanctus Medicus texts brought to the home of the High Elder would be treasonous. It has required careful planning to amass the library you have, and you are diligent in keeping it hidden. Even from your lover.

He would not forgive you, were he to know.

You have never been selfish, not once in your life. In any of your lives. You have lived for your people, the Luofu, and a dead Aeon that you remain the after-image of. You have played the part well, smiled when necessary and remained cold enough to rarely stir dangerous interests. You have healed many without complaint.

As you settle into your nest of pillows and blankets, and pick up your newest scroll, you don’t feel that guilty. You will let yourself have this one thing. If nothing else in any of your lifetimes, this one fucking thing will be yours. 

You unfurl the scroll with a yawn. It’s a text, an old one, from the High Elder that followed Yubie. They lived a short life for a high elder, two hundred years. However, they were a prolific scholar. Most of their works have been hidden away with time, as some are downright blasphemous and utilize the Abundance in a way that both the Vidyadhara’s high council and the Luofu’s Charioteers could not tolerate. 

This particular one has not seen the light of day since that High Elder’s time. It is titled:

[The Twin-Hearted Dragon Theory: The Permanence and Abundance’s Coalescing] 

✶ — ✶ — ✶ — ✶

“What a weird one.” You say with a yawn. Dan Heng can hear your voice through your chest, where his cheek is pillowed on your bare chest. He— there’s a spot of drool that’s cooling unpleasantly. He blinks awake and rises off you, to rub the stickiness away, blushing furiously.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It was cute. You were sleeping good, for once.” You tell him and muse up his hair. “Besides, you’ve gotten me far messier than that.” 

You both are messy. Dan Heng can feel the stickiness on his softened cock, and he imagines you’re leaking between your legs. He sneaks a hand between your body and gently feels along your thighs to confirm his suspicion.

You gasp when he grazes your core. You— you are dripping. Cold, too. It must be uncomfortable. Dan Heng frowns.

“Don’t worry about that.” You assure him, voice shaking. “We can clean up in a little bit.”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Maybe,” you hum, unsure. “I don’t mind it, regardless.”

Dan Heng raises himself up off of you, and braces his hands on your inner thighs. He’s warmed with the combined heat of the Archives, his nest, and you. You’re chilled under him and— Dan Heng. Can’t have that. He can’t totally trace why, he pulls a blanket up and over your bodies. 

You let him arrange you as he sees fit. He brings you to his chest, and fits your head under his chin. He tangles your legs, indulges in the contact and tries to transfer some of his volcanic heat into you. You look content as he does, nuzzling into his throat. 

Your own eyelids droop.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks. 

“... Probably not.” You say with a yawn.

“You look tired.”

“I am,” You nod and push closer. “But, I don’t need to, and it’s hard to get myself to sleep. It’s more trouble than it's worth, trying to sleep.”

Dan Heng doesn’t think before speaking. “Has it always been hard?” 

You pause, breathing even and slowly, “Not always.”

“Why did it get harder?”

You choose your words carefully then, despite your evident exhaustion. Your brow droops, and you rub at Dan Heng’s sides. Your thumbs skitter over his ribs.

“How much do you know about the Kin of Sacha, Dan Heng?” You ask. “It provides context. I’d hate to bore you.”

“... Very little. The databanks only has limited information.”

“Oh, you looked for me?” You nip at his jaw, playful, even as Dan Heng prepares a nervous rebuttal. You soothe his distress before it can get anywhere. “I’m kidding— and it makes sense there’s not much about us out there. There aren’t that many of us to begin with.”

“... How many?”

“I’m not sure, truthfully. Probably less than a thousand. Maybe half of that. Unless Sacha has... awoken to bless more. But I doubt that.”

You rarely mention the Aeon who provided you your sleeplessness and dream-seeing. You even more seldom mention anyone you knew prior to your time on the express.

You sign, “Typically, the Kin of Sacha work as mystics or laborers. Some societies we encountered saw the Aeon’s gifts as a psychic boon to be cultivated. Others, like the one I was raised in, saw the Kin as a well of infinite, tireless labor. You learn quickly under those expectations that even if you could sleep, it’s more ideal not to.”

Conditioning, then.

Dan Heng thinks back to when he first saw you at that rest stop. How you’d swayed on your two feet, eyes glassy and far away. How long they took to focus. How the embroidered logo on your breast must’ve belonged to whatever company you’d been under the employ of. Pieces fit together, and Dan Heng feels slightly sick.

“You don’t— need to be like that, now. You should sleep.”

With your hands braced on his chest, you lean back to look at him. Your gaze is soft, unguarded. You look almost plush with it. 

“... I guess I should.”

(I guess I could.)

That’s all it takes, really. You nearly collapse back into the nest, and Dan Heng settled himself to be curled around you. If— If he still deigned to manifest his Vidyadharan tail, perhaps it would be curled around you both. 

But, Dan Heng does not manifest any tail. You do not need to stay awake. You both rest under the filtered, soft light of the Archives, and that is all you must do. 

[febster]

Im back for another fic! Its been like a year ive written a fic and this time its on hsr mainly focusing on our dragon boy dan heng:P This is just a one-sided fic in a way, more focused on Dan Heng's side in a way??? This may be a bit ooc too for some;; but i hope ya'll still like it

requests are open^^~!

Instinct

-a look at dan heng's actions when it comes to his new dragonic traits and perhaps a little crush to their new member in the express

(gender neutral y/n!)

(y/n is an entirely different character from the MC of hsr!)

~

"…" Blankly staring at the top of his room, unable to sleep, he felt restless after what had happened during the past few weeks. Time passed by a bit fast for him to handle after accepting his past, especially being a Vidyadhara which was almost life-changing for him—many things needed adjustment and the feelings that come in life for being a Vidyadhara were just something he didn't expect to have. He could faintly recall the number of times he had acted out of character when he was with his family, he let out a groan in response when he had accidentally popped out his fangs when he had yawned out loud near the Astral Family.

He sits up abruptly, touching his mouth as if to feel his fangs, faintly recalling the expression of a certain crew member. 

__ “Woah…” Y/N's expression was in awe, as if they had seen a making of art right in front of them.

__ He could feel the blood rushing to his face, his skin prickling with the sudden heat of embarrassment. It was just one word but why did it make him feel so differently than he normally would? His embarrassment from memories didn't help ease this restless feeling he had. He glanced at his bed, bothered by how that once familiar comfort of his bed was now unsettling. Giving him a feeling to do something but he does not know what.

Frustrated, he lets out a low growl, escaping his lips, and staring at the floor. He couldn't just shake the feeling that something was off and wrong, he couldn't even understand this sudden discomfort that he was feeling, it was this urge gnawing at him as if to tell him that he should do something. Abruptly, he pushed his blanket off him, with a resigned sigh, he slides off the mattress, the room slowly filled with the cloth rustling and the sound of water beneath him.

He is rashly moving based on instinct, he does not even know what he is really doing but he follows. He rearranges his pillows and blanket, he even got some more from the Express storage closet, now all thrown haphazardly on the mattress.

It didn't take long for him to stop and just see the mess, "What am I even doing" Dan Heng sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. But there was no answer, only this pesky feeling of an urge that he needed to do this.

With a huff, he began to rearrange his bed, he spread the blankets and pillows out, creating a nest-like structure. Following his instincts, he played around with the pillows. pushed them around the edges like a fort. It felt strange to say the least, especially on why on earth he is even doing this. 

But he was satisfied, he even brought little trinkets from their adventures and placed them close to his makeshift nest, placed in a safe position. Stepping back, he looked at the nest he had made, it was just odd why he had done this but at such sight, he found himself preening at his work.

Dan Heng hesitated for a moment, with a deep breath, he climbed into the center of the nest, he was careful as if not wanting to disrupt the space. Settling into the warmth, he finds himself curling up finding it comforting despite being prepared suddenly. A contented purr escaped his lips, now closing his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

But...

He felt something different again, this new feeling as if there was still lacking within his nest. Despite it gave him a sense of security and comfort, it still felt lacking. Raising his head, he glanced at the empty spot beside him.

?

Huh, he had believed that he made it enough just for him to rest on so why is there an extra space? Dan Heng pondered wanting to know the reason for it, but as he let his thoughts wander, it shifted to the thought of Y/N.

!

Taken aback by his thoughts, he snaps back to reality. Why did he start to think about Y/N? But oddly, he didn't reject the thought of Y/N being there beside him, it was comforting for its thought. He was flustered at such things, that he reprimanded himself. For a person like Y/N, there must be somewhere out there within those planets who already have their heart.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he forced himself to curl up back to his nest, a frown on his face as he tried to focus on something else.

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

⌗︙・⚠︎ obsessed blade being an utter sadomasochist when it comes to you ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

Blade knows you. He knows everything about you—Blade knows everything about what makes you human. He knows what you love, he knows what you dread.

Blade knows that you're the only person who could possibly get his adrenaline pumping in ways he hasn't felt in all of those long, dreadful years of his immortality. Never have you once shown him an ounce of fear during each of your intense battles, eyes piercing into him as you parry his attacks, formulating ways to land a hit on him. Even if he'd managed to overpower you, his body pinning you down as he pants hungrily in excitement and exhaustion, you'd still find a way to headbutt, punch, or kick him away.

It's why he always looks forward to fighting you whenever he's sent away on a mission, barely able to contain the excitement of both inflicting pain upon you and having you inflict pain on him.

He ignores the teasing from Kafka and Silver Wolf, the likes of whom are well aware of just how deep his obsession for you truly runs. But it's not like they can do much to stop him, since he's disgustingly stubborn in his ways, and trying to get him to stop obsessing over you would just be a pointless endeavor. At the very least, there are times when Elios' script does not require the swordsman, though Blade makes his frustration of not being able to see you very obvious.

Blade makes it very clear to the other Stellaron Hunters that he doesn't want any of them to engage in any sort of combat with you. Your fighting prowess is reserved for him and him alone. Those warnings are mostly directed to Kafka since Blade knows that she'd toy around with you for a bit just to mess with him. And in Blade's mind, his rules apply to you as well; you aren't allowed to fight anybody else other than him. If you take aim for Kafka or Silver Wolf, Blade is right there, parrying each and every one of your attacks. You originally thought he was just simply providing time for his accomplices to escape or formulate an attack plan, but he proves you wrong.

He only has it out for you, ignoring your fellow Trailblazers aiming hits at whoever is accompanying him in favor of pouring each ounce of his focus on you. When your companions attempt to distract him with an attack of their own, all he does is kick away your companions, barely sparing them so much as a glance. It's so blatantly obvious to everyone in the vicinity, even becoming a bit of a joke (a rather dark one) that you dryly chuckle about.

Blade's temperament blooms like a hellish flower, corrupt roots digging under his skin and sapping away at his patience when he watches you in secret. He can see the way you interact with your fellow Trailblazers, particularly Dan Heng. How you so openly douse that pathetic little bastard in waves of affection, presenting him with warm smiles and cheerful embraces that have that sniveling coward freeze up. No, he is not jealous, not one bit. His blistering anger bleeds into his strength, and when he faces off against you once more, he does not allow you any breathing room as he mercilessly lands hit after hit on you. To make you feel even a snippet of the pain that you have so unknowingly brought upon him gives Blade a shuddering thrill.

And yet Blade truly does not want to kill you, to snuff out your life and be done with this twisting obsession. He once thought about it—he'd thought it over multiple times inside his broken mind—but found that even thinking about it made a coil of unease squeeze deep inside of him--it felt painful. He's much more willing to drag out these skirmishes, to relish in the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, and your weapon just moments away from cutting his throat open.

When Blade feels the oh-so-familiar sting of his flesh having been sliced open by your weapon, a hot pulse of arousal squeezes in his crotch.

"Ah--" It takes a bit too much restraint to swallow up the rest of the satisfied moan that nearly escapes the wide grin spread across his lips. Blade briefly almost humors the sinful thought of letting loose that perverse noise, to see what kind of reaction he could pull from you. It wouldn't matter if your expression would be blank or if you'd given him the most disgusted look you could muster. He'd do anything to get any sort of possible reaction from you.

Though it seems that he doesn't need to bother, as you clearly heard his little slip-up and gave him a look that was clearly saying Really? Did you really just do that? It doesn't matter to him that you're probably misunderstanding why he just nearly moaned, so long as your attention is on him, then he could care less if you think of him as a pervert.

"You're a real piece of work, y'know that?" A sarcastic half grin forms on your lips, though your mood is anything but amused. You grunt as he brutishly swings his sword a little too close to your face, just barely nicking at your skin. "Bet that's why ya keep tryna fight me all the time huh?"

Blade scoffs, though the smoldering excitement in his eyes gives away just how fucking excited he truly is. "What's it to you? If you got a damn problem," he heaves as you land a booming kick to his hip, forcing him to skid away, "Then keep it to yourself."

"Yeah I got a damn problem, you freak." Oh yeah, call the guy who's currently trying to tear you into fucking pieces a freak. That'll help you beat his ass and successfully retreat back to the safety of the Astral Express. Seriously, if he wanted to get his rocks off just because of a fight, he could've fought anybody else and been done with it. It feels pretty icky knowing that this guy was a deranged pervert who got off from getting the crap beat outta him.

And now you're stuck fighting him. Great. The universe must truly savor your suffering.

Over and over the pattern is repeated—you land a hit on Blade, he kicks you away, he shoves his entire weight against you, lands a hit on you, and vice-versa. His sword doesn't cut you deep enough to be fatal, but the open wounds still fester with your blood. Blade isn't looking much better either, a single harsh bruise upon his cheek where you'd punched him before. His clothes are ripped in various places, his blood staining the cloth. His wounds are healing though, no thanks to that stupid self-healing ability of his. But it's clear that you're still wearing each other down rather significantly, though Blade seems to be recovering his strength bit by bit.

"Fuck, you asshole.." You cough, attempting to keep your body steady despite the throbbing aches all over. If this keeps up, you'll be too exhausted to even block an attack and if that happens you'll—

Just vaguely, you can hear your name being called. A familiar voice, though tinted with a touch of anxiety, is nonetheless filled with concern. It breaks your concentration from the fight, and even if your entire body is screaming from pain and exhaustion, you strangely find it in yourself to smile in relief as you call out his name.

"Da-.."

There is a sudden sharp pressure against your neck, and your vision suddenly spins as the ground seemingly disappears beneath your feet. You feel yourself flying. You can barely even think before thundering pain violently assaults your head and spreads to your back and the pressure around your neck tightens. All you can feel is pain, a newly born headache pounding at the back of your head, and your limbs too heavy to move. It isn't until Blade ducks his face down uncomfortably close to yours that you realize what has happened.

He fucking slammed you against the ground. That flighty sensation you'd felt was just him lifting you up by your throat and then slamming you back down. You stupidly let down your guard and now you barely have the strength to even breathe. Blade watches you, now akin to prey caught by the hunter.

He looks excited.

"He can't save you," he hisses. His smile is like a crescent moon. "None of them can. I could kill you right now and they can't do anything about it. Your final moments could be all mine."

To prove his point, he digs his fingers into your skin, readying to crush your windpipe. Dry wheezes and gasps escape your mouth, and even despite all the pain, you struggle fervently. You are scared, yes, but more than anything, you are angry. If you wanted to die in a fight, you rather die at someone else's hands rather than the bastard above you.

He chuckles, a dreadful sound that pierces your ears. "That's it, keep looking at me like that. Show me everything of yours, (name)--your hatred, your fear, your pain, everything." His grip loosens and you hold in every urge to vomit. You feel sick, sicker than you have ever felt in your entire life.

"Quit... quit talking like you know me or some shit.." You angrily wheeze out. A thick metallic taste spreads on your tongue. Shit, a concussion is the least of your worries now if you're suffering from internal bleeding.

"Oh, but I do know you. I know everything about you (name)," Blade is no longer human to you now. He is a monster, a monster that is enjoying the torment that he assaults you with. "I know what you love. I know what you dread."

The hand around your throat withdraws swiftly, but you can't even try and make a move before your face is cupped, almost tenderly. With your head in place, all you can see, feel, and hear are Blade. He overloads your senses with him. Forcing you closer to him, you realize that he's going to kill you and squirm. He wants you to look him in the eyes as you die—

"I know everything about what makes you human."

Blade kisses you. He doesn't kill you. Blade kisses you, the taste of cigarettes and blood filling your mouth as he hungrily devours your lips. He doesn't kill you, because he loves you so much that he hates you for rendering him into such a love-stricken fool.

© latimeriafellfromheaven

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 7 | Kisses Erase Pain

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^

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Sunday mused to himself as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, then bending down to you, his lips gently brushed against your ear, “it’s time to wake up, dove.”

His soothing voice washed over you, your whole body felt all warm and cozy, it was like being enveloped into a comfortable embrace on a winter morning.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring up at what you believed was an angel. And judging by the wings sprouting from his head, you knew you weren’t too far off the mark.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered those words as you continued to look up at him. Your confession made him smile at you, his hand still running through your hair.

“Thank you, dove, but don’t you have any questions for me?”

You shook your head, “I know I’m dead… what is there to ask?”

“A second chance, perhaps?”

You froze at that before lifting yourself from his lap and turning to him while sitting on your knees, your eyes a bit hopeful, “like going back in time and starting over?!”

Sunday chuckled to himself for a moment before shaking his head, “I can’t send you back. Time isn’t what I am able to control. However, I am able to erase what all has happened to you. In other words, I can make it to where your death hasn’t even happened.”

You thought over his words for a moment, “so you can’t send me back, but you can erase it? To how far back can you go?”

“As far back as I want,” he said as he lifted his hand to caress your cheek, “I could even erase your very existence.”

He watched your face contort into one of fear being patting your cheek softly before letting his hand fall from your face, “but don’t worry, I would never do that to you.”

You steadied your breathing before asking your next question, “so… since I am seeing you now… does that mean you plan on erasing something?”

“You could say that,” Sunday mused, “I want to erase your death and all the way up to that little amnesia plan of yours.”

“Only that far?!”

He smiled at you, “I am an impatient man, I don’t want to erase too far back and wait to see what unfolds.”

“… Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because I want to see if you can win.”

“Win?”

“The emperor has no laws for himself, no weaknesses. You could change that.”

You could only shrug, “kind of hard to do that when I can’t fool him. Not to mention he has a few favorite maids he likes to entertain.”

Sunday reached for you and patted your head, “but remember dove, it was Blade’s protectiveness that gave you away. Manage to not let Blade or Dan Heng find out about you, then your life would be easier.”

“That reminds me, who was the man who had helped Jing Yuan anyway?”

“That was Moze. An assassin. Be careful around him too. Honestly though, I am surprised he wasn’t your first obstacle…”

You shook your head with a smile before standing up, Sunday joining you, “so I guess this means you will send me back now?”

“Of course,” he said while getting closer to you, his lips gently pressing to your forehead which immediately caused a glowing light to surround you.

“Wait- I never got your name,” you said as you started to disappear.

Sunday merely smiled, “I am sure I am mentioned in a few books here and there, find my name there, and if we meet again, tell me what you think my name is.”

That was the last thing he said, then that warmth was gone, and you found yourself waking up in a cold sweat. Your breathing was hard, erratic. Looking around for a moment, you hastily got out of bed and went to your desk. On it sat a calendar.

“So,” you muttered to yourself, “I really am back to the day I decided to try and get amnesia…, and how did he explain it? He couldn’t control time, so he didn’t send me back. No, instead he said it was more like he was erasing the events that had happened… but what sort of being could possibly do that? No god in any religion I have heard of have ever been able to do that… Maybe I should go to the library today and see if I can figure out anything that way.”

Nodding to yourself, you went to your closet to fish out some decent clothes to wear (a dress that was easy to move around in since you didn’t plan to enact any more plans for the time being). And just as you made it to the door and opened it, you paused.

“Oh… hello, Blade.”

A part of you still couldn’t believe that that mysterious man erased the events that had happened, so there was only one thing to test out that theory. And that was talking to Blade, of course. Ever since you came here Blade has been like your shadow. Not once has he ever spoken to you or tried to speak. And you didn’t bother to talk to him either as a sort of defiance of not talking to anyone. But it was all too clear to you now that even if you don’t talk to anyone, the Emperor wouldn’t care.

Blade looked down at you, his gaze hardening as he glared at you, but he offered no greeting in return.

Well fine, be an ass, you thought begrudgingly as you turned on your heel and headed in the direction of the library. Blade already following you, hot on your heel as a shadow would be.

The library wasn’t hard to find, but it was a pain to get there due to how far it was from your room. But whatever, you were here now.

“Now, if I was a deity that can erase events… what book would I be in?”

You said those words quietly enough so Blade wouldn’t hear. Glancing behind you, you noticed how he stayed near the door, completely uninterested in what you were doing. Perfect.

So, you got to work.

You passed by multiple genres of books but eventually settled on a few pertaining to religion, history, a few fictional since they had titles and descriptions correlating with your situation, and even a few books that described creatures that looked a lot like the man you met.

Rolling a small cart, you brought it over to a couch and plopped down.

“Now, let’s see what I can find!”

Six hours later and you thought you were going to pass away. The fictional books were entertaining and served as good breaks, but they didn’t help you in the slightest of mentioning who could erase events that had happened!

It felt like you were about to rip your hair out! Sighing heavily and closing the current book you had in your lap; you went to get up and return the books all to their rightful place. You originally thought of leaving them out and letting someone else put them back, but you didn’t want a surprise visit from the emperor who would start asking about your sudden interest in historical and religious themes.

Once done putting them back, you settled for grabbing a single book to read. It was a fairy tale where a princess is saved by a prince. Sitting back down on the couch, you lay back and grinned at the title. Despite being a princess… you doubted any prince would dare to come save you.

Though, as soon as you opened the book and started reading once again, your eyes started to grow heavy and before too long, you fell asleep. Your breathing evened out and the book was held tightly against your chest as you curled up on your side. A small smile on your face.

Though, not too long after you fell asleep, the Emperor was walking by the room, “Blade? It’s uncommon to see you guarding the library,” Jing Yuan mused at the guard.

Blade huffed and jutted his head towards the open door, “the princess decided to read today.”

Jing Yuan hummed to the information and walked in, his eyes scanned the room for a moment before landing on your sleeping figure.

“Seems to me like she is sleeping more than she is reading.”

Blade came to stand next to the Emperor, arms crossed over his chest, “she was in here all the day.”

“That so?”

Blade nodded wordlessly as Jing Yuan walked over to your sleeping figure. His body knelt next to you, looking over you, he then noticed the book that was in your arms. Plucking the book from your grasp, he looked over the title.

“Foolish girl,” Jing Yuan mused as noticed how the book entailed a princess being saved by a prince.

��She wouldn’t be foolish if you just treated like an actual fiancé.”

“Its not everyday that I hear you defending my rewards from conquest.”

Blade shrugged, “I am only stating the obvious. Furthermore… I am bored of following her around.”

Jing Yuan let out a laugh as he stood back up, “then introduce her to other things that the castle has to offer. I’m sure even you can handle that task since you are so bored.”

Blade bowed slightly as Jing Yuan decided to take his leave.

“Of course, Emperor.”

And when he was gone, Blade looked back to you, his glare still present on his face.

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

ENJOY THE SILENCE

Lazy mornings with honkai and genshin boys (fem!reader x Diluc, fem!reader x Dan Heng) a bit suggestive in Dan Heng's part GENERAL MASTERLIST

DILUC

Your lover, Diluc Ragnvindr was without a doubt hardworking and responsible man. Running biggest winery in the industry, protecting Mondstadt at nights and still working full-time job as a bartender, he gave you plenty reasons to be proud of him. Unfortunately, his lifestyle came with many downsides, sleep deprivation and shortage of free time he could spend with you being one of them, so when you found your handsome boyfriend lying next to you in bed, you couldn't stop yourself from admiring him, for once so peaceful, so relaxed. You felt like it was ages since he could sleep in like that.

His voluminous hair tickled your nose, he smelled both manly and sweetly at the same time, scent of cecilias he cultivated in his garden mixed with leather and smoke, reminder of dangerous activities he indulged in at night. You shifted closer to him, inhaling this familiar smell. His eyes opened, morning light enhanced golden tones in his hues. When he met your gaze it felt like all the warmth in them poured into your soul, lightening it up like sunlight itself, taking your breath away.

Diluc smiled at you lazily, leaning to kiss you. He tasted like promise of adventure, but his strong arms were like a safe harbor, grounding you and sheltering from all harm.

"I hope I didn't wake you up" you giggled. "You deserve a good rest for once Diluc."

"Don't worry, even if you did, I'd rather enjoy your company then sleep my love. Compared to reality with you every dream is dull." he whispered gently stroking your hair.

You laid your head down on his muscular chest, happy to cuddle your big, strong, loving man for the rest of the morning.

DAN HENG

Your beloved dragon came off as cold and emotionally detached to most people, his reserved nature forged in solitude he lived in for most of this lifetime successfully scared most people off. Yet, there was other side to him, born from isolation he suffered in Xianzhounian prison as well. Hunger for life and experiences he was devoid off for so long, overwhelming need to be free and feed his senses with all things this wast universe can offer, things he knew only from books.

Dan Heng was used to relying on himself, never given a chance to ask for too much or express his emotions freely, so when he was alone with you he tried his best to not seem needy, but it was obvious just how much he craved to be close to you.

He always kissed you a bit too greedily, as if it was the last time he can taste something so sweet, and he never pulled away first. When he caressed your body his fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks on your fragile skin. Claiming you as his mate. He was touch-starved to the point of pain, skin to skin contact was so foreign to him it almost burned but he couldn't get enough. It was never enough.

Today you and your boyfriend woke up earlier than the rest of the crew. Before going back to your duties in the archieves you decided to take a quick shower together. Dan Heng looked stunning with water dripping down his perfect body, you couldn't take your eyes off his broad chest. He was more comfortable than usually, tracing marks on your skin with his fingertips.

Water washed away your mixed scent from your bodies when your hands massaged shampoo in his scalp. Dan Heng always made sure he does his share of work, both as Astral Express archivist and as your lover. It was a habit of his from time he first escaped from Xianzhou. He used to work for refuge and food in various places, justifying his existence with usefulness. Therefore you were not surprised when he returned the favor soon after you washed his hair.

" Why won't you let me spoil you sometimes?" you asked.

"You spoil me all the time." he calmly spoke up. "You give me all your love and help me become something more than a shadow of my past life by giving me another great reason to live here and now instead of dwelling on my nightmares. I merely return the favor."

Your cheeks flushed.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to earn my kindness each time." you explained, biting your lip. His hands rubbing your head slowed down a bit.

"Don't worry about that. I like doing things for you, that's my way of showing that I care about you." he sighed. "You keep on telling me I need to learn how to receive affection, but aren't you the same as me?"

You didn't say anything back, instead you just let go and let his hands get lower to massage the knots out of your back, your muscles relaxing under his tender touch.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

the tiny exception - express crew

summary; there's only one exception to the few rules that the express crew have...

genre/extra tags; fluff, family dynamics, pompom is the softest rabbit thing in the universe i love them, papa welt (real), auntie himeko iykyk, the rest of the gang are the siblings, caelus learns abt the world with you :'), your honor they're just trash raccoons, selective mute! caelus

[platonic] [child (7-9)! reader]

[warnings; reader implied to have a tough life before getting taken in, trash digging mentioned/j]

word count; 608

a/n; whoops i made another hsr fic and it's another family fic :) im watching blue lock rn and it's definitely passed some expectations and i like it so far so that's good, there's some silly little guys i like (it's the crazies unsurprisingly) maybe i'll write something to test the waters for blue lock. this show wildin tho

i use caelus for hsr so im writing caelus, sorry stelle enjoyers

[rule 1; no touching pompom]

caelus learned that one after attempting to comfort the conductor. and yet,

"you're so squishy, pompom!" a pure as snow giggle rings in the train as the trailblazer watches you cuddle pompom. "so fluffy!"

"oi! don't hug me too hard!" they squirm, trying to loosen your grip.

"sorry!" you smile innocently as you look up to see the silver-haired trailblazer, watching you. "hey caelie!" you let go of pompom, running straight to him.

he's quick to pick you up as you stretch your own arms out towards him. he looks at you with curious eyes and then glances at pompom who is cleaning their uniform.

"i wanted to hug pompom! and i did!" you cheered. it earns you a silent chuckle from caelus. much to pompom's relief, he takes you away and to the passenger rooms.

[rule 2; don't drink mr. welt's coffee]

that rule was interesting. it was set because of you really. you tried the coffee once and almost cried. turns out you can't handle the bitter taste unsurprisingly.

"i know you're gonna do it, y/n." you freeze in his lap as welt continues to answer caelus's questions on the phone.

"but what if it tastes different?"

"it's still coffee, dear." you rest your cheek on welt's shoulder, face squished as you stare at the cup of dark liquid. welt doesn't say anything after that, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.

"did auntie himeko make it?"

"no, she didn't."

"then it will taste different." you reason but it doesn't sway the tired father figure. you reach to take a sip. you look up at welt as if expecting the male to stop you but he doesn't.

he knows. he knows what's going to happen and he's not going to stop it. (he does have a different drink on hand, ready for you.)

you take a sip.

and you cry. "papa!" he sets your favorite drink down, moving the coffee towards him. "why do you drink that?!" he guides your favorite drink towards you and you immediately drink it.

"i drink it because i like it."

"you have bad tastes, papa." you stick your tongue out at him.

"and yet you keep drinking it every time."

[rule 3; sleep on time!]

another rule in place for you. did you ever follow it? sometimes.

but you were only a kid.

"but i don't wanna sleep!" you tugged onto dan heng's clothes as if he would help.

he does not.

"you need to sleep. you're going to be all sleepy in the morning."

"but i want to stay with you guys!" dan heng picks you up into his slightly awkward hold. "please?" you drag out your pleas in hopes of convincing your older brother figure to let you stay up with the trio.

"sorry, y/n. but i don't think welt would allow that."

"but i'm not ti.. tired!" you yawn between your last word, your hands reaching to rub your eyes.

"you totally are, y/n." march cooed, taking you from dan heng's arms. "let's get you to himeko or welt, hm?" the trio is gentle to bid you a goodnight and a pat on the head (and kiss on the cheek from march) while you're taken to rest with himeko.

"there's the sweetie. awh, you must be exhausted." you're laying in himeko's arms, feeling sleepy with her warmth wrapped around you. "thank you march, have a good time with the others." march waves her goodbye before leaving with the trailblazer and dan heng.

"but i wanna go..." you frown, twisting and turning in the redhead's arms.

"how about you spend sometime with me, welt, and pompom before bed?" himeko suggests.

"are we gonna read some stories?"

"we'll let you pick."

"okay."

you fell asleep about 3 minutes later before you could even hear a story.

[wormonastringtheory]

PHANNIES FOR FERAS (AND A FREE PALESTINE

Fundraiser Here

Hi y'all! I saw the absolutely incredible effort in January towards PCRF and I thought it would be a good time to mobilize again for Palestine with our collective power and platforms. I'm a LONG term Phannie, I've been here since 2015-2016ish and remember the old days of the fandom on here (my old url was jaiwareham if we were mutuals) and have seen what we've done in past and was inspired by that.

I have a dear friend living in Gaza. His name is Feras. He is still a teenager, around the age Dan was when he met Phil. He was starting school for engineering when the violence and assault against Gaza ramped up. All he has known in his life is the occupation. He has stayed steadfast on his dream to become an engineer and help his community. He is fundraising to get to evacuate to Egypt and start university there when the crossing reopens. He is scared for his life but despite that, on the ground, he dedicates some of his funds he does receive to mutual aid for children in his community. He also fundraised to get clean water in their area or Khan Younis after the assault on Rafah started. He is one of the most amazing people I know. His fundraise has stalled as of late and he is really scared, so I wanted to see if we together could make an effort to meet his evacuation needs. He needs a minimum of 20k. He is like family to me, he calls me sister and says he holds me in his heart and I call him my brother. It would mean the world to me for us to do this!

I started a Google form to gauge people's abilities to help out. My plan is to do a redemption system. Basically, I'm hoping to get a bunch of fic writers, merch collectors, and artists (and other creatives) to donate works or items that people can redeem with proof of donation to Feras. If you can help, please fill out this form! I also need help running this is as I am severely disabled, so if you can help admin this with me, please let me know!

Google Form

A photo of Feras!

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Can I get Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, and Blade with a reader who's like Furina from Genshin? Also your blog theme is cute ❤️

Characters: Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, and Blade x Female Reader

Synopsis: with reader that’s like Furina

Warnings: Fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

"Well, my dear Dan Heng, rejoice that you are now in my presence.” He listens to words like these all the time. It doesn't bother him that you act the way you do, always acting so confident before running away with a tail between your legs, or even better, hiding behind him.

Whenever you sulk (by a huge body of water filled with sea creatures), on your knees, cupping a little sea creature with such a depressed expression on your face, he’s always there, yet you don’t notice until he reveals himself to you. "Haha, you saw spectacular acting. Did you think I was crying? Well, I wasn't.” You scoff and laugh, trying to pretend you were okay when you weren’t.

Trying to comfort you, but he can’t seem even to touch your walls since you put up 50 more. Since ‘actions speak louder than words’ don’t they “you’re lying." "Ha, I’m not. I don’t know what you're talking about. I've never cried since I’m the life of the show." "Your eyes are puffy.” “THEY AREN’T, so stop saying that!”

You’ll never admit to it unless you're on your last breath or not. So he’ll hug you until you stop crying about whatever upsets you, and he’ll only do this for you.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

When a general is madly in love with you, he won’t care about any flaws you might have. If he were to be honest, when looking at you, he couldn’t help but remember the first time you had. You were a famous performer, and everyone enjoyed your acts, especially the ones that involved mystery. There had to be a trial, or this ain’t a show you want to be in.

You always played ‘the dashing and beautiful watcher/the great judge who had such venom and confidence in her voice’ and he was still training hard with Jingliu; your personality never faltered even without the stage that you were born to be on. It was who you truly were.

Now that you two have been together, you're more sentimental with him since acting for your entire life and being someone you're not is very tiring, so why not take a vacation? You love sea animals so much, why not go somewhere with a lot of animals? like a honeymoon.

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

"Annoying,” that’s what he always thinks about (not all the time though). Your are so loud that he can hear you from the other room, and your dumb little shows, which he gets dragged to, are always about you.

Call you a brat and know you can’t do anything about it since you're like a scared cat; it doesn’t make it better that you hide behind him every time you go meet someone with a bad reputation; he has to go with you or you’ll die!

Gripping on his arm, "Please, blade, accompany me.” “Why should I do that? I don't remember being some sort of bodyguard to you.” "Blade, please; I promise I won’t bother you again!” He’s just messing with you; he’ll come with you, but he wants something else in return, like maybe the most tame thing he’s thinking about is a kiss.

When you kiss him as a payment, he’s so mean about it afterward, straight up making fun of you. When you complain about him teasing, “I’ll never forgive; you’ve done something worse than treason against me,” before walking off in a hurry.

He’s not all that mean, comforting you whenever you're in a depressive mood, giving you everything, and staying with you until you're better, and when I say he’s glued to you, he’s GLUED to you, making you feel better in any way he can, even if others call extreme care so much. He does not listen to anyone.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[genshin-obsessed]

The Honkai men receiving a flower bouquet got me wondering, what if they got a homemade bento lunch from their s/o?

✩ Ooh this sounds cutee! I know some of them are like too busy to eat and they constantly make excuses or lie like "yeah I ate earlier" but they didn't. Reader would NOT stand for that >:0 ✩ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Sampo, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade.

✩ Caelus

Honestly, with how busy this man is you're surprised he's even eating or sleeping at all. He's always running around helping others.

So, you decided one day you'd make sure he was eating well by making him lunch every day. You were already making meals for yourself and seeing as how he was too busy, you could offer a helping hand and make something for him too.

Caelus was shocked and couldn't refuse- especially since when he saw the bento box itself, his stomach grumbled just a bit.

Your response was to giggle and push it further into his hand, "eat it, ok? I know you're busy but your health comes first." The thought was so sweet and so innocent, he just couldn't help but feel almost overwhelmingly happy at it.

Honestly, when he was eating it a bit later on, he almost cried. Like you care so much about him and he just felt... so happy. You were so kind and he was just so lucky to have you in his life. Not that he ever took you for granted, but after that day he vowed to do everything he possibly could to love you, help you, and be as supportive as he possibly could.

✩ Dan Heng

You and Dan Heng always shared meals together but he started to get busier and busier as time went on. So, you often found yourself eating your meals alone.

You weren't angry at all, just worried. If you were eating meals alone, you wondered if Dan Heng even had time to eat at all.

So that led you onto your mission of making Dan Heng lunch boxes like every day. You would make him the same thing you would be eating so it was technically like you two were eating together.

Dan Heng's heart skipped a beat when you offered him the lunchbox with that giant smile of yours. He graciously took it, giving you a small kiss in return.

"Make sure to eat all of it, ok? Don't bring back leftovers." You said with a smile, making him chuckle. He absolutely would. After all, you did go to the trouble of making this lovely meal for him.

✩ Welt

Welt isn't as busy as the other two, but he still has a tendency to skip meals by accidentally forgetting. Especially recently as how everyone's been so busy.

Welt is apologetic every time you get upset, because it's fair. You don't want to see his health take a turn for the worst because he wasn't eating properly.

So, you had the genius idea to make him lunchboxes every now and then! You would make something for yourself to eat, so it wouldn't be too hard to make something for him too, right?

The first time you handed the bento box over to him, he kinda just froze up, asking what it was. You explained it was a bento box and that you wanted to make him a meal.

He was SO happy. Like, over the top happy but he didn't let it all out. He gave you a tight hug before kissing you on the forehead and thanking you repeatedly. You two still found plenty of time to share your lunches, but the days you can't, you'll leave cute little notes in the lunchbox for him. He keeps them, every last one.

✩ Sampo

You know how busy Sampo is. It's not a surprise he can't eat meals on time. He tries, he does, but sometimes, he just ends up eating a small snack between hours of not eating.

Nothing's ever happened, but sometimes Sampo can feel the lack of food taking it's toll. Those are the days he'll treat himself, but it never feels right.

Sampo makes all kinds of excuses under the sun, but the real reason is that he doesn't like eating a meal without you. You don't know this but still, you decided to take some action and start making him bento boxes.

They're not too full but have the right amount of food for a meal which is exactly what he needs in his days. Of course, now that he's got these bento boxes, he can't NOT eat them.

Yeah, he still wishes you were with him, but not eating something you worked so hard to make felt worse than eating with you. Though, he does still work hard to make time for you guys to share a meal at least once a day, if not once every two days.

✩ Gepard

Gepard's never been one to keep up meal times. Like, he ate when he had time. Sometimes he ate his lunch at 12pm, sometimes he ate it at 9pm. Didn't matter to him much.

That changed when you two started dating. Gepard did his best to find time to share meals, but those became harder once the fragmentum started to get worse.

Knowing that Gepard couldn't share meal times the way he wanted, you still wanted to do something for him since he was working so hard. So, you opted to make him a bento box so he still had a meal to eat every day.

He was so shocked when he got it at first because he really wasn't expecting it. His cheeks just flushed red and he graciously took it. You explained that you still wanted him to eat proper meals even if you two couldn't share them.

Since then, he's been trying even harder to meet you for meals, but on the days he can't, he'll happily enjoy the lunch box that you made, specifically for him.

✩ Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is a busy man but he can find ways around it so he doesn't have to be. Such as afternoons being when he takes his naps. Though, there are days where he happily sacrifices naps for you.

Because of how busy he is, he doesn't eat meals at intended times. He'll often skip breakfast, eat a very late lunch, not even bother with dinner. Small snacks in between is how he lives life.

Of course, this took a turn for the worst when Jing Yuan collapsed. To this day, he says it's just because he was tired and he "fell asleep", but according to the physician, it was because he hadn't been eating well.

He knew how upset you were but he was just so busy. So, you began to make him bento boxes. The first one you showed him made him so happy.

Just because of that, he'll make sure to either eat his meal before his nap or after, but he will now make time for meals. Especially if they're with you.

✩ Luocha

Luocha's not very busy, but due to his traveling, he doesn't always have set times he eats. Sometimes he'll run into a shop that's selling specialty desserts and have a bite which causes him to lose his appetite for proper meals.

Of course, you always scolded him for such things, telling him to worry about his healthy meals first and THEN dessert. Unfortunately, that only took effect once you two got together. Luocha made it a point to eat lunch with you and only you.

Here's the thing though. He's busy and can't always sit to eat with you, even if it's only an hour or something because he travels. So, you took it upon yourself to force him to eat even without you. Bento boxes!

Luocha was so very happy to receive a lunch box FROM YOU! Like, special made by you! He couldn't stop thanking you, to the point where you covered his mouth and laughed, letting him know you were happy to do so.

Luocha stopped skipping meals after that. Honestly, the second he got the bento box, he'd want to eat it. But he'd hold of until he was actually ready to eat. Never did he come home with the bento box full.

✩ Blade

Blade's meals solely depend on you. Otherwise, he just eats what he can. He does try to eat at least one meal a day at a proper time, whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Before you, he wasn't eating properly. However, you'd make meals and make something for him too. It would've been rude if he just... didn't eat. SO! That's how it started. You two sharing meals with one another.

There are days where he's out and about and he completely forgets to eat. However, he'll always remember your face and at least get a snack. You wanted to try and promote healthy eating for him. What was the best way? Bento box!

At first, Blade wasn't too sure, but he felt an odd warmth in his cold, dead heart. You... made something for him? You made the bento box, all for him? That was so very sweet of you. "Thank you, my sweet, you're so very thoughtful." he said, giving you a kiss on the head.

There was ONE time where Blade attempted to make a bento box for you. He kinda failed but the thought made you so happy. He could see how happy it made you and that's all it took to make all the embarrassment go away.

[animekpopsimp]

Being The Youngest Member of the Astral Express Crew

You had met the Astral Express Crew by chance

On your home planet you were an orphan, struggling to survive with what little you could find on the street

One faithful day, you had run into March and Dan Heng

They saw how bad your life was and offered you a place on the Astral Express

At first, you were hesitant to accept, not sure if they had good intentions

But, you did go with them in the end

March explained your situation to Himeko who felt bad and asked if you wanted to stay with them

You said yes, not having any better options

You grew close to March and Dan Heng the fastest

March became like your fun older sister

She would always encourage your adventurous spirit

She even bought you your own camera so you could take pictures of all the memories you made with them

Dan Heng was a bit awkward around you at first

But after some time, the two of you grew close

He became your older brother who would always look out for you

He's always scolding March for potentially putting you in dangerous situations

Dan Heng cares about your safety and just wants you to be safe and cared for

Welt was the one to treat you when you first arrived on the express

Part of him grew to see you as his child, though he wouldn't say that out loud

He knows you've had a hard life and wants to make sure that you never have to suffer again

Welt always makes sure you're healthy, knowing you can sometimes be reckless

Himeko basically becomes your mother when you join the Astral Express

She does let you join March and Dang Heng since she still wants you to have your freedom

That's how you meet Stelle

You came across her along with March and Dan Heng

Upon joining the Astral Express Crew, Stelle became your second chaotic big sister

You definitely pick up some of her habits, much to Dan Heng's dismay

The Astral Express may be made up of very different people, but they're you're family

[vixensp1ce]

fem!reader, under the cut

you've never seen dan heng this intense before - his eyes glowing with hunger in the dim, his mouth greedy for his next bite of your skin. his hands are everywhere, tearing at your clothing, holding you close, tipping your head back so he can decorate it with his marks.

you knew animals had rut seasons, but never did you imagine dragons did, too. all words had fallen away to grunts and groans, quiet dan heng even more silent now as he worked on you.

with your head tipped back, clinging onto his shoulders, the room fills with the sound of your pleasure.

"oh, heng, right there, yes-" he scissors his fingers, knuckles curling as you let him know where it feels best. his pants are so tight, he wants nothing but to pounce and make you cum on his dick over and over again, but he maintains enough sanity to prepare you for what he has planned.

he can feel your moans and pleas in his jaw as he bites and marks you up, your neck already littered with blooming kisses. but your breasts, oh, imagine having his offspring feed right here, heavy and swollen with life. the vision feels like heaven to him, and he sucks relentlessly on one nipple, his fingers pinching the other.

"he~ng," you moan, coming messily around his fingers. "heng, heng, oh, so... ah~"

"yeah," he mutters, the first words he's said since he locked the door and manhandled you into his lap. your clothes are on the floor, your bra hanging around your waist because he couldn't be bothered to take it off. "my turn."

freeing his aching member, you can't help but bite back a whimper. he's too big, even bigger than usual, a pulsing vein running from base to tip you know you'll feel in your guts.

"it's okay." his eyes soften as he notices your nervousness. "i'll be gentle."

he helps you undress carefully, doing the same for himself, but as soon as he replaces you on his lap, he can feel his control slipping away again. you're so adorable, gaze flickering over him as if you don't know where to look.

"gentle," he mutters, half to himself, lowering you by your hips onto him. you jerk forward, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to anchor yourself as his head pushes past your entrance.

"don't think i- ah, heng, so big-" you stammer, dropping your head onto his shoulder to look. there's still so much of him left, glistening with your arousal dripping down onto him. you raise yourself, trying to pull out, and cry out involuntarily as he hardens even further and catches onto your walls.

"sorry," he murmurs, humanity already slipping away. "dragon."

dan heng slides you down, inch by inch, and you're already whimpering and shaking, close to release. the vein throbs against something raw deep inside you, and it takes everything in his being not to ravage you right there and then, ribbed walls fluttering so frantically, trying to accommodate him.

he brings his nose to your pulse, trying to distract himself. a mistake. your pulse jumps in time with your pussy, and he growls and thrusts up, hard.

you cry out, coming immediately, and he does too, supporting you against him as he loses himself in how warm and wet you are.

"dan heng, please, please," you wail in pleasure, nails scoring marks down his shoulders as he hoists you up, still bouncing you on his dick, the tip nudging open your cervix, spilling his cum inside.

as he takes you to bed, all you can think of is, this is going to be a long night.

[spiriteddreams]

“there was before you, and there was during you. for some reason, i never thought there would be an after you.” warnings: angst (but with open ending (hopeful?))

with dan heng, who returns to the xianzhou luofu bearing the weight of the memories of a past life that he curses and wishes he could forever run from. but the memories cling to his shadows, festering in his denial and avoidance until they manifest in the form of you. 

except that it’s not quite the “you” that he remembers. because while you are still as lovely as the day he left you, your hands clenched around the jade abacus that he held the matching pair with, you now look at him with a sense of unfamiliarity that has his breath catching when you ask, “do i know you from somewhere?”

jing yuan catches his eye and dips his head. to his astral express companions, it’s nothing but a gesture, but to dan heng, it feels like a silent apology. and the weight of it begins to feel like it’s crushing his chest. your smile isn’t as relaxed as he remembers it to be, but how can he blame you if your memories don’t align like his do. this new reincarnation that you’ve found yourself in, this you that not only he, but the general failed to protect, tears open his old wounds. but you don’t see the blood that you’ve drawn or the slight tremble of his bottom lip as he dips his head in greeting, allowing your name to fall from his tongue as you return the greeting. 

your name is bittersweet on his tongue and the taste lingers as he watches you with an expression that only jing yuan seems to be able to read. memories seem to flicker before dan heng’s eyes, the sound of your voice from the time you first met, ringing in his ears. time seems to pity him and allows him a moment of grace, to allow for every memory of you that he treasured to come flooding back. he recalls the unexpected first meeting that blossomed into a friendship. such a friendship could only lead to lovers with years of memories so deeply intertwined that when he selfishly severed that bond, the flower of your longlasting relationship began to wither. 

there is no bringing back to life even the loveliest of flowers, and with your reincarnation standing before him, dan heng is painfully reminded of this fact. you do not have the same memories that have haunted him for years, and yet he can’t help but let his eyes linger on the jade abacus that rests at the base of your neck. his own is tucked between the layers of his clothes, purposefully hidden out of fear or something else, dan heng isn’t quite sure.

but what he does know, is that when you ask him for a moment of his time after everyone else has decided to part ways, he can’t help but feel a hint of hope flare up in his chest. 

“you remind me of someone i think i may have known from my past life. there’s something about you that i can’t quite put my finger on. but, if you’re free, would you like to join me for tea sometime? i’d like to get to know you better,” you smile at him warmly and for a moment, dan heng believes that you still remember him. jing yuan shoots him a look from over the shoulder, a tilt of the head that is most definitely encouragement to take up your offer. and so he quietly accepts your offer, heart and body following after you.

bonus: the jade abacus on the base of your throat is warm and when you turn around to lead dan heng away. your breath is just as shaky as the hand that you shove into the pocket of your clothes. seeing him from afar was one thing, but hearing him in front of you, voice as soft and gentle as you remember, you feel those old wounds reopen. he doesn’t know that you remember him, that for all this time, you’ve waited for him to return with hope hanging at the base of your neck. but with a little push and shove (in the form of jing yuan), perhaps you’ll find your way back to one another once more.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3