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gastricpierrot · 9 months

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Title: Until forever ends

Series: Honkai Star Rail

Relationship: JingHeng (or mostly JingFeng i guess??)

Rating: T

Warnings: spoilers for the 1.2 story update and also some 1.3 leaks

Summary:

This time for sure, Jing Yuan was determined to properly say his goodbyes.

Also on AO3

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Jing Yuan always has, by nature, been an opportunist.

Give him a ten-minute break from his paperwork and he would go missing for the rest of the day. Grant him an opening, be it in a game of starchess or in actual battle, and he will conquer.

Give him a chance to save one person he loves, and he would try to save all of them.

And he would fail, miserably. Inadvertently. Brilliant as he may be, lauded as the best tactical genius in the Xianzhou for the past millennia—he was still all but a singular man. Limited in his capabilities, powerless to bend the world completely to his will.

He was powerless, as he watched the Judges of the Ten Lords Commission subjugate the rampaging Imbibitor Lunae as they would a rabid beast. As the ground shook and the air weighted with sea salt, as Dan Feng roared his haunting cloudhymns towards the heavens with despairing ferocity and summoned the ancient sea to tear the Luofu itself asunder.

Dan Feng, in all his godly regality and his stupid, stubborn pride, was the most beautiful man Jing Yuan had ever seen.

The next time Jing Yuan finally had the chance to meet him, it was within the stifling walls of the Shackling Prison.

Heavy chains bound Dan Feng’s limbs, reinforced by countless talismans to suppress the High Elder’s immense power. His cage was far too small, barely leaving him enough space to stretch his arms and legs if he wanted to. He had lost weight, his cheeks gaunt and his complexion dull. His hair had lost its once healthy sheen, now matted with grime and dirt from many days of skipped washing—and perhaps out of annoyance, he had weaved it into a tight braid over one shoulder.

Despite everything, Dan Feng seemed to remain particular about the most strangely insignificant things.

“I see you’ve finally managed to find your way in here,” he said by way of greeting, in a tone that suggested a lack of concern for his current wellbeing as a prisoner of the Ten Lords Commission. Perhaps he had simply been here long enough to no longer care.

After all, despite his sins, his recklessness and his seething fury, Dan Feng was still a Vidyadhara High Elder, as well as one of the High Cloud Quintet, revered as a legend and a hero for his feats on behalf of the Luofu. His crimes did not erase his legacy, nor did his noble achievements justify the sheer carnage he had left in his wake. The Vidyadhara Preceptors wanted justice on their own terms, claiming rights to adjudicate one of their own. The public were split between wanting to understand and wanting to condemn his actions. The law was set in stone and uncompromising.

The stalemate had gone on for several decades by the time of Jing Yuan’s first visit. That was plenty of time for Dan Feng to steel himself for the inevitable.

“You’ve been thinking too highly of me, Dan Feng,” Jing Yuan laughed sheepishly, though it was taking all he had to hide the tension stringing his shoulders taunt. He'd thought he’d be sufficiently prepared, after all these years—yet seeing Dan Feng in this state was still extremely difficult to bear.

Yinyue-jun, who had always carried himself with the grace of a moving stream, was now weighed down by hideous thick chains, his body confined to an awkward, hunched posture. Large scales covered parts of his skin in patches, results of the exuviation charm forced upon him by the Preceptors before his arrest. Dark, inky inscriptions circled around his neck like a collar, a powerful spell to prevent him from singing his hymns.

His eyes, once ever-burning with defiance and underlying mischief, now looked so, so tired.

“If there’s anyone who could do it, it’s you,” Dan Feng stated as though it was truly merely a fact. Jing Yuan had turned out to be one of the youngest people ever to have shouldered the mantle of an Arbiter-General.

And it was not something he thought was particularly worth bragging about. He was desperate, in truth. That was all there was to it. If it hadn’t come to this, Dan Feng trapped in prison and awaiting retribution for his crimes and Yingxing still unconscious, his body constantly tearing itself apart to adapt to its new constitution even after all these years—he would never have chosen to take this seat.

If he could, Jing Yuan had only wanted to continue going on expeditions to strange, foreign lands with his friends, fighting the Plague Author’s abominations as though they were simply protagonists of a comic book. He had always secretly pretended, deep inside, that they were a squad of Galaxy Rangers on a life mission to defeat cosmic evils. He was the Red Ranger, Dan Feng was Green, Yingxing was Black, Jingliu was Blue, and Baiheng was Purple. Five of them against the world.

It was a delusion he clung to like a lifeline, even after he has long since grown past the appropriate age to have such wistful imagination. Even when he’s witnessing first-hand, how it’s all falling apart.

“What’s wrong? You don’t look so good suddenly.”

There was a shimmering barrier between them, as if a dragon robbed of his claws and fangs and devoid of the will to fight warranted such extra measures. How Jing Yuan wished he could simply shatter it with his fists, just so Dan Feng could be closer within reach and he could ease himself into his arms and believe that at least, despite all the odds stacked against them, he was still there. Dan Feng was imprisoned deep underground beyond the reach of any semblance of sunlight, in a cell that was far too small for his insatiable longing for freedom—but if nothing else, at least he was still there. Still alive. Still can be rescued, as long as Jing Yuan played all his cards right.

“I’m just—” Jing Yuan tries, taking a quick breath to pull himself together— “a little worn out, I suppose. There’s been a lot going on lately.”

He hadn’t meant to imply that the “going on’s” had much to do with Dan Feng—at least not consciously. There were plenty of other matters piled endlessly onto his plate as the General, all that required far too much of his time and consideration. Too many difficult decisions, too many sacrifices he’s never ready to make.

Jing Yuan was exhausted beyond comprehension. He simply did not have the privilege to admit it out loud.

“A-Yuan,” Dan Feng called, his voice soft and gentle and safe. He had always been Jing Yuan’s safe place. Despite all the spells casted upon him to seal the High Elder’s power, Jing Yuan felt a familiar brush of a phantom tail against his cheek. “You need to remember to take care of yourself, too.”

Jing Yuan allowed himself a single heavy sigh, his body deflating with the breath. “I’m trying.”

“The hardest you’ve ever had,” Dan Feng agreed, exchanging a wry smile with him. Jing Yuan saw how quickly it faded, how he then averted his gaze and furrowed his brow—and he just knew, what he was about to say next.

“Listen, A-Yuan, I—”

“Feng-ge.”

Jing Yuan held his gaze when their eyes met once more, willing Dan Feng not to continue. He refused to let him continue. They had both made their choices, and they were to bear the consequences for them in whatever way they can. Jing Yuan felt that any apologies now would only undermine his efforts thus far, all these blood, sweat and tears for someone who lacked the resolve to face the people he knew he’d hurt with his actions. No, Dan Feng was not allowed to say sorry.

But Jing Yuan was also knew, more than anyone, how selfish Yinyue-jun could be. And how much his friends meant to him, and how he never could bear to see Jing Yuan especially, in any sort of pain or anguish. Though it was precisely this kindness of his that had eaten away at him and left his heart a raw, bleeding mess for as long as he could remember.

Jing Yuan had never been ashamed of his love for Dan Feng. He never stopped wearing his heart on his sleeve, never stopped longing for Dan Feng’s affection, Dan Feng’s attention, despite being well aware that none of it was going to be reciprocated in the way he yearned for it to be.

Dan Feng had chosen Yingxing, that was a fact. But it was also a fact that Dan Feng still adored Jing Yuan with the same capacity he’d always had, and he’d never tried to push Jing Yuan away even after he’d made his feelings known to him. He’d still indulge him with his gentle smiles and warm touches, still let him into his space and into his heart. Still patiently listen to his recounts of his favourite scenes in the latest novel he'd procured whenever they were out on expeditions together, still had a fondness for combing his fingers through his hair and calling him A-Yuan as though his name alone carried all the tenderness in the world.

Jing Yuan loved Dan Feng. He loved him with a force that knocked the air out of his lungs, a serenity that rivaled the waters of Scalegorge on a clear day. He loved him, and how he wished that that was all it took to fix things.

“...How is Yingxing?”

But it was not. He refused to stop trying, nonetheless.

“Still asleep.” Jing Yuan smiled somberly and, unable to bear the stifling silence that followed, added, “but at least his body seems to have stabilized. He might just wake up one of these days.”

And then what? The question hangs in the air, unvoiced, unanswered. There was no guarantee that Yingxing would rise the same person as he died, even after all they had sacrificed to bring him back. Such was the cruel reality surrounding their circumstances. Dan Feng was slowly molting in a prison cell. Baiheng had fallen in battle and Jingliu had succumbed to the mara and disappeared.

And all that’s left is Jing Yuan, alone against the world.

Yet he still refused to stop trying to fix things, because that was the only thing left that he could do.

xXx

After countless debates and appeals that spanned for nearly a century, it was decided that the Imbibitor Lunae would be spared from death, and instead be granted a molting rebirth.

The Vidyadhara firmly believed that reincarnation begins with a clean slate, that everything from one lifetime will be washed away by the primordial sea upon hatching once more. Dan Feng will no longer be Dan Feng but a whole other person altogether, one who will not share his name, his memories, his legacies nor his crimes.

In a some sense of the word, it was the “death” of the High Elder that the Ten Lords Commission demanded.

The next time Dan Feng reemerges from his egg, he will set out into the world and collect his own experiences to form who he will be. He will meet new people and find new friends and family. He will no longer remember any traces of his past life; not his friends, his family, his joys, nor his sorrows and sins.

But before all that, he will have to bear the punishment of his selfish, prideful predecessor. He will be shackled within the confines of darkness for a long, long time, harshly scrutinized for simply existing, for simply having been who he was. He will know no warmth, have no companionship, and will not receive any form of mercy. He will not understand, but he will have no choice.

And Jing Yuan’s heart broke for him. It shattered to pieces and crumbled to dust, and he had not even the time to bend down and haphazardly put it back together. There were simply too many battles to fight, too many futures he had to foresee and avoid and he was spread far too thin. Sometimes it felt as if he could hardly even breathe.

Yet Dan Feng always remained at the back of his mind, the mental image of him chained up within that isolated prison cell a driving force that kept propelling Jing Yuan forward. One, just one. If he could save just one of them. All he had before was reputation, praises for his excellence and achievements. Now, as the Divine Foresight, he had authority—and he was not above using it to his personal advantage.

By his mandate, the reincarnated Yinyue-jun's imprisonment shall last no more than a hundred years, after which he shall face banishment from the Xianzhou for eternity.

It was the only way Jing Yuan knew, to safely set him free from the clutches of his past. Even if it meant never seeing him again, never being able to meet the next person he was going to become.

Jing Yuan had not been able to send Dan Feng off the first time. His molting had accelerated at an abnormal rate during his final days, and by the time Jing Yuan was made aware of it and hurried to see him, it had been too late. In the too-small cell deep within the Shackling Prison, a giant, pearly white egg lay in the place of the Imbibitor Lunae Dan Feng.

Far from the embrace of the primordial sea where it should’ve been, and unresponsive to his touch.

(Jing Yuan could not move the sea as the ancient High Elders once did, but he could at least keep him company with his warmth for as long as he was allowed, no matter how scarce his subsequent visits remained.)

A heart heavy with grief had hardly made his second chance much better. Dan Feng...no, this person was no longer Dan Feng, no matter the uncanny degree of resemblance. Perhaps he had even yet to choose a new name for himself, with all those years spent alone in a cell with nothing but the companionship of the books Jing Yuan was allowed to send him. The youth’s legs trembled slightly from disuse as he shuffled into the world for the first time in nearly three hundred years, and even the carefully controlled brightness of the Luofu sky seemed to hurt his eyes.

Jing Yuan wished he could’ve at least said a proper goodbye this time, even if he was all but a stranger to him now. He wished he could’ve held him in one last embrace, sent him off with well wishes and a perhaps a token to remember him by.

He did not. His farewell was merely a single squeeze on the man’s shoulder, and then he was urging him forward, away from him. Forever.

xXx

With the sheer number of years Jing Yuan has lived, he supposes he should be used to the whimsicalities of fate by now. In fact, perhaps the Aeon Aha themselves has made it a personal mission to make his life as unfunny as cosmically possible, constantly cursing him with a million twists and turns that leave him scrambling for stable ground. It’s impressive that he has lived up to his age without being mara-stricken, and sometimes it feels as if the universe is trying its damn best to change that.

Like now, as he stands at the shores of Scalegorge Waterscape, gaze locked with that belonging to the one man who shares his beloved’s visage.

Jing Yuan almost forgets how to breathe.

He'd known he was back in the Luofu—of course he would, his intelligence network would never have failed to alert him this much. He was there to chase after his friends from the Express, hellbent on making sure they are safe from…well, there are many things they need to be safe from on the Luofu at the moment. The revived Ambrosial Arbor, the Stellaron, Phantylia.

Yingxing, who had stopped being Yingxing centuries ago.

And even though they were all of Jing Yuan’s concern, too, he does not want them to matter. For just a moment, he does not want to be in the shoes of the General.

“It’s been a long time,” he greets, searching his face for even the smallest hints of recognition, baseless hope swelling in his chest despite himself. “Old friend.”

The exuviation charm should’ve left him fragments of memories from his past life, that had been the whole point of its flaws. That had been part of the Preceptors’ plot, Jing Yuan had later discovered, to artificially trigger Dan Feng’s molting and fake his death, hoping that it would preserve his identity as the High Elder even after rebirth.

But Jing Yuan had been there on the day of his banishment. He’d seen how genuinely confused and terrified he was while being loaded onto the Starskiff that would take him to some unknown point within the incomprehensively vast universe. And he was sure then; whatever flaw the spell was meant to have, it did not preserve Dan Feng’s memories as well as they had wanted.

“I’m not him.”

Thus comes the inadvertent reply, factual and cold and leaving no room for debate.

Waves crash against the shore in a hypnotic, unceasing rhythm; back and forth, back and forth. It fills Jing Yuan’s ears in a cacophony, clashing with the static in his head and his drumming heartbeat. Far in the distance, a sea-faring bird lets out a pitiful wail.

Dan Feng was gone. He had been gone since long ago, carried home by the currents of the ancient sea.

Jing Yuan closes his eyes, takes a breath. He must not falter. A general must never falter. He offers Dan Heng a sheepish smile.

“Mm. I’m sorry.”

Dan Heng scowls, as though he doubted the sincerity of his apology. And he’s right, Jing Yuan can’t seem to bring himself to be fully sorry. His heart aches almost to the point of suffocation and his years upon years of practice when it comes to reigning in his emotions are lost to the void the moment he came face to face with Dan Heng. It isn’t really all that fair, is it? That he looks identical to his predecessor, from the elegant curve of his horns to his glower of displeasure. He had even chosen a name that sounds so similar, almost as if it was a taunt personally aimed at Jing Yuan. As if his Feng-ge had returned to him against all odds, except that he hasn't.

Dan Heng makes it a point to make his boundaries crystal clear, snapping at him whenever he even makes the insinuation that there’s still a connection between himself and his past life. Maybe Jing Yuan is just a mess and an asshole, but he does end up teasing him a little longer just to get a reaction out of him. He’s lucky that unlike Dan Feng, Dan Heng does not seem to have an awful temper, and instead settles for the fiercest frown Jing Yuan has ever had the pleasure to see on those features.

He could love him in this life too, he thinks. Helplessly, wistfully. Foolishly. If given the chance, he could. He would. Without a shred of hesitation.

But one must wonder if such opportunity would ever arise. A familiar feeling bubbles up in his chest as he watches Dan Heng reunite with his friends from the Express from a little distance away. They gravitate towards each other the moment they are within range, all excited exclamations and loud sighs of relief. Jing Yuan notes the way the other Trailblazers surround Dan Heng as though subconsciously forming a protective wall around him, as though they knew of the scars the Xianzhou had left on him from birth and are doing all they can to keep him safe. He notes the tenderness in his gaze as he brings them up to date about his side of the latest events.

Without a doubt, Dan Heng has found people who care very much about him. He's found his own family on the Astral Express, and the train never stops in one place longer than it has to.

It’s almost twistedly entertaining, how this aspect of Jing Yuan’s life never seems to change.

He turns towards the imposing draconic figure looming in the distance, and settles back into the shoes of the General once more.

Truth to be told, Jing Yuan does not end up remembering much about the battle with Phantylia. It's a habit he’s since made a point to practice, mentally filing away only the important details of a fight for future reference and letting everything else flow through and past him. He can say with confidence that it has worked wonders to preserve his literal sanity.

The pain, though, is usually another story. Jing Yuan’s told that he had been unconscious for two whole weeks with the best medical experts tending to his wounds and still, he wakes up feeling like he’s been skewered and slow-cooked over a barbeque pit. Aeons help this poor old man and his disintegrating body and maybe, he can’t help but ponder in earnest, this is finally a sign for him to retire soon. The exhaustion is deep, settling into his bones like cement. Sharp pain shoots through his body like bolts of electricity each time he tries to move.

But he forces himself up from bed as soon as he’s able to anyway, even if it’s only for a few hours at a time each day—because he worries he’d never be able to get up again if he doesn’t start working on it quickly enough.

To his luck—or perhaps by the sheer power of his will and stubbornness, he manages to recover enough strength to return to going out and about just in time for him to catch the Astral Express crew before they leave. It is only right that he sends them off as the leader of the Xianzhou Luofu, after all the assistance they had offered throughout the Stellaron crisis. He presents them gifts that can hardly repay the generosity they’ve shown, swears alliance with the Nameless should they encounter any trouble in the future, and extends an offer for them to visit whenever they wish. And if they do decide to visit, just remember to get in touch, so that he can set some time aside and invite them for a meal and a long chat to hear about their latest adventures.

Some part of him deep down wishes he too could be part of those adventures, some day.

But for now, he must say his goodbyes. Finally, properly.

Jing Yuan is giving directions to the Cloud Knights escorting his guests back to the Express, delaying the inevitable, when he notices movement from the corner of his eye. He turns to find Dan Heng breaking away from his group and heading towards him, his features set in a complicated expression. Behind him, his friends observe in what seems to be a state of excited tension.

Jing Yuan stiffens when Dan Heng steps close, biting back the instinctive urge to maintain a respectable distance between them after all the boundaries Dan Heng had painstakingly set. He stays very still, confusion growing as Dan Heng lifts his hand to touch his own forehead, then reaching up and touching Jing Yuan’s with the same two fingers.

“My name is Dan Heng and I am one of the Nameless aboard the Astral Express,” he says, and it abruptly dawns on Jing Yuan that this is Dan Heng’s own version of the traditional Vidyadhara greeting. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

For a moment, Jing Yuan is genuinely stunned into stupidity. Why was Dan Heng introducing himself all of the sudden? Did he lose some of his memories again after he severed his connection with the High Elder Statue?

And then it hit him. Dan Heng… is opening a door for him. It’s roundabout and awkward and unfairly endearing—but he is. Jing Yuan’s breath catches in his throat and he struggles for a proper way to respond. After every comparison Jing Yuan had cruelly made, after every calculated remark, every admission that he was only using Dan Heng for the power of the Imbibitor Lunae—he’s still willing to give him a chance…?

Jing Yuan stares at him, really stares at him while his mind clambers to process the situation. Dan Heng is wearing his signature frown, though this time there’s a slight furrow on his brow as well, like he’s wondering if he'd somehow broken one of the highest ranking officials of the Xianzhou Luofu and the concern is slowly setting in.

Jing Yuan’s gaze flickers to the people behind him in hopes of getting some clues, some sort of affirmation—and, upon eye contact, is then flashed an enthusiastic thumbs up and a wild grin by a certain golden-eyed Trailblazer.

An amused laugh almost escapes him at the sight, all his tension miraculously disappearing with a whoosh. Surely he hasn’t made it that obvious while in front of other people?

And the fact that they were able to convince Dan Heng to do this…Jing Yuan once again finds the audacity to hope.

“Likewise. I’m Jing Yuan, Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu.” He returns Dan Heng’s gesture, prolonging his touch for just an extra second before withdrawing. An opportunist, as always. “May I have your number, Dan Heng?”

#jingheng #hengjing #jingfeng #honkai star rail #jing yuan #dan heng #fanfiction #fellas... i dont think im recovering well from them...#also half this fic is just me finding an excuse to write forehead touches kfjasd #but yeah.. old man yaoi #old man yaoi of my heart..

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