Jisung: Chan Truth Or Dare?

So a free tool called GLAZE has been developed that allows artists to cloak their artwork so it can't be mimicked by AI art tools.

AI art bros are big mad about it.

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

jealous ratio because i really like him like that, fluff, reader is a menace

“who gave you those flowers?” 

ratio’s voice is demanding and snarky, eyes ablaze with a similar kind of disgust when you walk into your home with a bouquet in your arms. putting your keys on the counter, you greet him with your usual smile and prance over to place a kiss on his scowling expression.

which softens momentarily at the feel of your lips on his skin.

“hi, veritas,” you greet.

“welcome home, love,” he murmurs in return, smiling when looking at you, but the scowl returns when he makes eye contact with the flowers. “who gave you these?”

“aventurine did.”

the world freezes over with ratio’s silent rage and you’re the only one untouched despite being the catalyst. searching for a vase nearby, you’re more than content to let his possessiveness simmer, in fact, it’s something you are used to now.

when you manage to dig up an empty vase from a cabinet nearby, ratio’s footsteps scurry towards you.

“you’re keeping them?” he asks.

“why wouldn’t i? they’re a gift.”

“a gift? 

he’s fuming, absolutely fuming now as he watches you fret over the bouquet, trimming the ends, putting water in the bot, arranging them to look nice and lovely, all whilst your lover stared at you hawkishly. you pretend not to notice the way his eye twitches occasionally, allowing him to watch you work.

his mind must be working at a million thoughts per second, so you’ll just let him be until he can talk to you again.

“why did he give you flowers? there must be an occasion that i am unaware of.”

after finishing your final touches, you turn around with all the garbage in your hands and walk past the scholar. he follows. “to say thanks. he recently consulted me for one of his projects and the results were fruitful, so he bought me a bouquet in gratitude.” 

pink roses. last time ratio read, they were supposed to symbolise gratitude, the ideal choice to send to someone who has helped you. 

“well. if that’s the case then he owes me a planet’s worth of flowers.”

“lighten up, veritas, he was just being friendly.”

“friendly?” he all but snaps. 

“yes, friendly. is there an issue with that?” 

“that gambler being friendly implies to him being up to no good.” he attaches himself to your hip, hovering over you as you make a mug of coffee. “he is a menace, an undesirable anomaly, a type one error, i advise you keep your interactions with him limited. only one of us should need to deal with his antics so i suppose i’ll have to bite the bullet on this one, darling.”

“you are so brave, my hero. are you done? anymore talk about aventurine and i might just think you’re in love with him.” ratio splutters at your wild accusations, missing the way you smile under your breath. then, you throw your arms around the scholar and he doesn’t return the embrace, still dumbfounded. “i missed you and the first thing you do when i come home is talk about another man.”

he scoffs, lifting you up onto the kitchen counter. there, he rests his hands on either sides of the counter beside you. “your mouth is twice as foul as his.”

“and yet you still love me.”

“marginally.”

“you!”

tomorrow, you return home to a luxurious bouquet of red roses sitting on the kitchen island.

i'm writing this as a pregame to the diluc fic i have in the works.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

post-argument fic, reader's still mad at wriothesley, the yearning and desperation from wriothesley is heavy in this one lul, established relationship, suggestive comments

brief biker!wriothesley thought.

disagreements don't happen often between you and wriothesley. you are both level-headed enough to maintain composure whilst talking through any issues, but in the scarce moments where it snowballs into something heated, it results in cold shoulders and uncomfortable silences born from residual anger.

wriothesley, who likes to be direct and to resolve things as they occur, lingers around you, hesitant to anger you more than he already has. he downright loathes how you walk on eggshells around him, unable to hold his gaze. in moments like these, he wants nothing more than just to pull you close and kiss you until you forgive him, bleeding apologies until you mend him with your forgiveness.

unfortunately for him, you had promised to go out for dinner with some of your mutual friends the night after your tense argument.

wriothesley's already there when you come straight from work, watching as you greet everyone with a big smile and wave, settling into the empty space next to him. all he gets is a tiny grin before your attention is swept away by furina, who sits directly in front of you.

he tries to act like it doesn't bug him when you turn to talk to clorinde, who sits on your left. tries to keep his desperation on the low when he asks for your attention, pointing to items on the menu that you'd like. tries to act like a kiss- a smile, even, isn't all he wants when he gives you the things you like from his plate.

if you don't look him in the eye for longer than five seconds, he might dissolve in his seat.

miraculously, wriothesley survives the torturous evening, and it's difficult to pretend like he isn't excited about going home and having you all to himself. he farewells everyone a little too enthusiastically, and drags you away with him before they can convince you to stay for drinks.

(though, if you wanted to, he would have complied and bitten back his complaints, but judging by the way you follow him without any reluctance, home was the right direction.)

since your shared car was dropped off for service, the only way of getting home was wriothesley's motorbike. he helps you on and you murmur a shy 'thank you' underneath your breath when he puts your helmet on for you, only getting on when you're safely secured and comfortable in your seat.

however, unlike usual when your arms would circle around his muscular torso tightly, your grip lingers awkwardly by his sides.

"doll, you need to hold on tight," he warns, starting the engine. you comply ever so slightly, ghosting your arms around him.

for wriothesley, who prioritises your safety more than anything else, it isn't good enough, so he gently pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around him himself. without another word, he drives off, catching you off guard. he hears a small yelp from behind him before your arms snake around him tightly.

wriothesley's sure he'll get a light scolding and a punch to the arm for scaring you like that, but as long as he gets to look you in the eye, he'll take whatever you throw at him.

bonus:

when you're back in the safety of your home, you lightly shove your helmet at his chest and begin scolding him for scaring you like that, but all he does is wolfishly smile at you.

"i warned you, gorgeous, that's what happens when you don't listen to me."

you huff, sliding off the leather seat, clutching your bag to your side, but wriothesley doesn't let you go far, pulling you back in to stand in between his legs.

"still mad at me?" his hands find purchase at your hips. you glance into his icy eyes before looking aside. "i'm sorry, i'll say it as many times as i need to. when are you gonna find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"when you apologise a thousand times."

he whistles. "a thousand? that's a lot."

"so get started."

"do you take other means of compensation?" his hands sneak under your shirt to rest on your waist and you immediately catch his wrists before he can go any further.

"are you even trying to apologise?"

he snickers. "i'm sorry."

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

Morepesok, Snezhnaya.

“There was this… one time,” You begin out of nowhere, and Childe immediately turns to you, “In Mondstadt. The Traveler was there, and he was mixing drinks.”

“Mixing drinks?” He asks, amused.

You laugh, squeezing his hand tighter. Warmth spreads throughout your body. “Yeah. Apparently there was a bartender course and Aether decided to join. Naturally, I went to visit him to witness the great bartender skills of the Traveler.” You pause, “I remember one of the drinks there; it was called ‘A Snow-Covered Kiss.’ According to Paimon, it was supposed to taste like how a flower blooms in the snow and meets your lips. Or at least that’s what I heard from when she and Aether were talking to the Liyuean lady.”

The stunt that Childe pulls next is expected, given his nature. “I bet I can give you a sweeter snow-covered kiss than some drink,” He winks, using the hand intertwined with yours to pull you into him before diving down.

Childe does not disappoint; he never does. The kiss is frosty, chilly, and yet, it is warm. It feels like sitting at a fireplace and snuggling next to him and at the same time it feels like a little breeze full of snowflakes being blown lightly into your face. A comforting heat pools in your tummy and you subconsciously shift closer to him, and he gladly welcomes the movement but wrapping his arms around you tighter.

You barely manage to think about how all kisses with Childe should be like this: slow, loving, warm and cheeky when he pulls away. Your limbs remain tangled (you can’t tell if it’s for sharing of body heat or because your boyfriend just doesn’t like letting go of you) and when you look up, it is Ajax that smiles at you.

A snowflake coincidentally lands on your nose, and Ajax giggles as he helps wipe the melted ice aside. His gloved fingers remain on your face, gingerly caressing your cheeks. “You’re not very slick about your intentions,” he hums, gazing at the little distinctive features.

“Hm?”

“It’s not odd for you to tell me about your day, but you never say something as direct as that,” he teases you, “‘A Snow-Covered Kiss’, really? Surely you could do better than that. Or you could’ve just asked for one straight away.”

You should pull away from his embrace to teach him a lesson about teasing you— you really should. You don’t, and Ajax doesn’t cover the wide smile adorning his features.

“So,” Ajax begins, and he tilts his nose down to touch yours. Puffs of warm air exit from your mouths and intermingle, and you know that the redness forming on your nose definitely isn’t due to the cold. “Was my take on a snow-covered kiss better than the drink?”

“It’s hard to say,” you hum, still intoxicated by the intimacy of that kiss, “Could you do it again? Just for me to, y’know, get a clearer taste.”

The giddiness in Ajax’s eyes is clear, and he doesn’t waste a second diving back in. And when he resurfaces, you tell him again that it still doesn’t taste sweeter than the drink Aether made you. So he kisses you again. And you tell him again. And the cycle repeats again, and again, and again. And if he ever noticed your ploy to get him to kiss you with a sky full of snowflakes and lips full of love (he did), he never said it.

Though sweet snow-covered kisses you gave you tasted nothing like the drink, you sure could get drunk on the way he handed them to you.

-

@souglias happy birthday weird fatooey ginger that sher likes ☹️ kinda short but lol it's like 11.30pm anyway your fanart did you so much justice king pop off <333

Under His Skin Masterlist

Pairing: Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow (Nolanverse Batman) x F Reader

Dr. Jonathan Crane begins his first day at Arkham Asylum, quietly observing Chief Administrator Dr. Ares Katsaros and his routines. He meets Ares’s fiancée--a woman who unsettles him with her calm composure and lack of fear. Fascinated, Crane begins planning Ares’s downfall while trying to deciding what to do with the woman attached to him.

Dark themes are ahead...

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Ardyn’s friends teaching him the life skills that made him the savior of his people: Benevolo Besithia.

Ben: “Okay, Ardyn. Today we have a very special lesson. Today, you are going to earn the trust of a majestic creature. Doing so will increase survivability when dealing with wild beasts as we’re adventuring across Eos.”

Ardyn: “Sounds simple enough. But why at a volcano?”

Ben: “It’s where she makes her nest. Now, the important part here is to not flinch.”

Ardyn: “Flinch? Why would I-“

Ardyn: “Astrals save me….”

Ben: “You’re doing great, Ardyn! You have nothing to fear!!”

Ardyn: “Then why are you all the way over there?!? Benevolo Besithia, what in the void did you get me into?!” (AND HOW??!)

Ardyn: “I swear if I live through this, I’m just going to let the Starscourge take you!”

Ben: “Duly noted. Now don’t move. You’re intimidating her.”

Ardyn: “I’M INTIMIDATING HER?!?”

“……”

Ben: “Oh! She likes you? Fantastic!!”

Ardyn: “WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF SHE DIDN’T?!?!!?”

𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝.

— time is merciless, especially when it comes to the love between an immortal and a short-life species.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

pairing. Dan Heng, Dan Feng x gn! reader (respectively) content. gender neutral! reader, reader is short-lived, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, reader dies, reader is reincarnated, 1.2 content is written from memory

word count – 8.6k

note: happy belated birthday, @particular-one! i was supposed to have this out ages ago but my cold had other plans… anyway! hope you enjoy it Carlyle!! i love you 💕

Birthdays are days of celebration; yet all you could do was mourn. Time passed by you like a stranger on a street, and yet it was no stranger, really. Your first encounter had been during your adolescent years, when your body began to morph into that which it would become for the duration of your adult life. And you knew these encounters, brief and fleeting, would continue until death would finally claim you. 

“Happy Birthday, [y/n]!” cheered your companions, illuminating the darkness of your reverie with their bright smiles. You blinked. Reality came blossoming back around you, blooming in iridescent hues as the present moment reformed into one picture that should be a fond memory in the making. 

Your brother Yingxing grinned at you, the aged-lines of his face creasing as he held out a cake for you. In cursive it read: HAPPY 25TH BRITHDAY, [Y/N]!! Baiheng clapped your shoulder, leaning over from behind you as she examined the cake intently. 

“Hey! Yingxing, you dolt! There’s a typo on the frosting!” Worry creased your brother’s brow and he examined the icing intently, clicking his tongue loudly upon seeing his mistake. His perfectionism of craft knew no bounds, for it even reached cake decorating as a look of deep dissatisfaction crossed his countenance. 

It was only when Jing Yuan burst into loud laughter that Yingxing’s displeasure abated, and he too joined the rest of the Quintet in laughing at his mistake. You forced a laugh, but it did not meet your eyes. 

“You only had one thing to do, Yingxing,” Jingliu chided, shaking her pale head with amusement. Yingxing raised a brow at his teacher, accepting her quip as a challenge. 

“Well, in my defence – I am not a baker by profession.”

“Oh, so you’re not a professional speller, either?” Jing Yuan retorted, his lips quirking into a smirk upon seeing Yingxing’s irritation. He had hardly reached manhood, yet Jing Yuan was already serving disrespect on a silver platter to all of the elder members of the High Cloud Quintet – much to their amused annoyance. Their bickering continued; without Jingliu’s inevitable intervention, it could last for hours unchecked. 

Upon watching this scene unfold before you, a profound sense of sadness filled you like a basin. Today should be a day brimming with happiness. It was your 25th birthday; you had just reached your prime, and you had plenty more fruitful years laying before you. In spite of that, a quarter of your life had already come and gone. You looked at your comrades wistfully. 

One hundred years. Such an inconsequential age to the Xianzhou natives. While reaching a century of age was normal for the species of the alliance, for a short lived being such as yourself living to one hundred would be the final milestone of your short life. One hundred years. It hung over your head like a noose, swinging tantalisingly in time’s passing. 

In the midst of this persistent exchange, Dan Feng stood wordlessly. The wind blew at his hair, causing it to undulate the same way as the water he controlled with cloud hymn. He regarded you intently with his viridian eyes, the only one not so jubilant in this moment of celebration. His lips thinned with concern; though the High Elder often claimed that he was hardly the expressive sort, you could read him like an open book. 

The five years you had spent together as companions may not have been long for one of his lifespan, but to you they lasted far more than that, with each year being its own little eternity. As such, Dan Feng had been studied by you continuously, the way an artist studies their muse. You knew every contour of his body, every thought that crossed his mind. 

And his troubles were perceptible – you just did not know what they were. 

The authoritative clearing of Dan Feng’s throat brought the other four members of the Quintet back to the room, reminding them of their purpose here, on this mild winter morning. 

“[y/n]’s cake…?” he asked in a low voice, his deadpan evident. He removed an arm from being tucked away in his long sleeves and indicated to the candles that were starting to topple over on the cake. They had been half consumed by the flame during their time teasing and bickering with the wax now melting onto the cake’s frosting. 

“Oh! Right,” Yingxing exclaimed. His cheeks heated, self-conscious at his own neglect and how easily Jing Yuan had baited him into yet another squabbling session. Behind him, Jing Yuan grinned and promptly received a light smack over the head from Jingliu. Despite his status as her student having ceased several years ago, old habits never fade.

Baiheng hummed, bringing all to a close. And the closest figures in your life banded together, singing a harmony celebrating your birthday. 

To you it felt more like a dirge, but you tried your best to smile along to their singing. Each ‘Happy Birthday’ only reminded you that another year had come and gone; though there was more to come, another leaf had fallen from the tree of your life. Soon, you would reach your middle years. Then the winter of your life. And finally, Dan Feng would be burying you. 

“Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday, dear [y/n],

Happy Birthday to you!” 

You smiled away the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks as the basin containing your sadness overfilled, and continued listening to your companions’ singing. It was a disservice to their effort and love for you, thinking such morbid thoughts on a day that they had taken so much care in preparing. You hadn’t realised that the singing had stopped until you felt the piercing gaze of the five of them on your person. A bashful colouring of red dusted your complexion as the attention drew towards you magnetically. 

Noticing this, Yingxing quickly pushed your cake towards you, the expectant smile on his lips mirrored another four times by the other members of the Quintet. Inhaling quickly, you proceeded to blow out the candles of your cake all in one go. It was mere superstition in your culture that doing so would result in your wish coming true, but you made a wish nonetheless. I wish that I do not have to die, while the others live on together. 

They cheered loudly. Baiheng swiftly snatched the cake from Yingxing’s and ran over to one of the canopied tables in the garden to cut it, her actions accompanied by the loud growl emanating from her stomach. Jing Yuan followed quickly, seemingly eager to taste the cake that Yingxing had laboured over for so long – probably to find some flaw just to incite him further. The white haired swordmaster followed her student, leaving only yourself, Dan Feng and Yingxing beneath the stars. 

Dan Feng walked over towards you. Were it not for the strong aroma of lotus and sea-salt that followed the Vidyadhara, you would not have known of his approach; each footfall of his was lighter than a droplet of rain. His sinuous azure tail wound itself around your waist, securing you firmly in place. Your hand ran itself along the hard ridges of his scintillating tail and from beside you Dan Feng released a loud exhale. 

The High Elder’s desire to have you alone was palpable. Mumbling a quick ‘excuse me’, Yingxing departed as well. However, before he left, he glanced over his shoulder at you, an expression of melancholy understanding on his face. 

While it remained unspoken between the both of you, he felt it too; the tired lines around his eyes assured you of it. The quiet, looming dread that companies your ephemeral lifespan. You could see it on Yingxing’s countenance as well, the silent yearning for more time. Yet the greedy are never rewarded, and are forced to live with what little they have.

As Yingxing left, Dan Feng laced his fingers through yours. He tilted his head as he glanced over at you. Dan Feng tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, using it as an excuse to place a soft kiss against your temple. Beneath his frosty gaze, you felt ready to be swept away by the currents of his blue irises. 

“Are you all right, my love?” he murmured, lips warm against your skin. You did not look at him. Instead, your eyes were fixed on the rest of the Quintet, who were drinking and feasting under the night sky, their jovial laughter disrupting the night’s silence. 

“I’m fine, Dan Feng…” he raised a slender eyebrow dubiously “Really!” Raising your voice emphatically, you gave his side a playful nudge.

Even if Dan Feng knew you were lying he didn't press the matter – for now, at least. It was just the two of you, standing there in quiet bliss beneath the sea of stars. You leaned your body against his, resting your head on his shoulder like he was your own pillar. From the corner of your eye, Dan Feng’s thin lips curved into a smile at your action. Against yours, his body was cool, but gradually grew enveloped by the warmth emanated by your own body. 

Small moments like these, though seemingly insignificant, held the most weight. You had to make the most of such occasions when you had such little time to appreciate them. It remained unspoken between you two, save for the most intimate of moments shared between you, behind closed doors. Only then would a certain hunger arise, a deep famine for more time that would manifest through urgent kisses, a lack of words and breaths. 

During such moments, you had come to learn that contrary to the stoicism with which he carried himself, Dan Feng was a greedy man with an insatiable appetite. His visage of meticulously upheld composure fell through whenever the two of you were alone, in times like these. 

In a swift movement, his tail spun you around so that you collided with the wall of his chest. Despite his manhandling, Dan Feng’s arms held you tenderly, and he looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, that he would cast aside everything for your sake entirely. The intensity of his regard caused your gaze to slip from his, down towards the dew littered grass that glittered in the moon’s light. For a moment, all was silent in your vicinity. That was, until Dan Feng’s deep chuckle reverberated through the chilly air. 

You felt his eyes piercing your form like the spear he carried into battle. Dan Feng grasped your chin lightly with a single hand, bringing your face close to his so that you had no choice but to look into the deep pools of his eyes. In the pallid moonlight his skin gleamed, almost opalescent. His lips shone as if he had drunk from the moon itself, and as he lowered them onto yours, you swore you caught a taste of the moon on his tongue. 

Each movement of his lips was slow and precise; kissing you had become an art that Dan Feng had striven to perfect. His kiss silenced the morbid thoughts accompanied by your birthday; as his tongue slid your mouth, the haunting idea of your death was exorcised. All of your thoughts and senses became consumed by one singular entity: Dan Feng. 

The kiss persisted, and slowly your stores of oxygen depleted. Lost in the moment, Dan Feng seemed not to notice this until you bit down on his lower lip. He groaned, roused from the hypnosis of your lips as he pulled away from you. A loud gasp escaped your lips following your divergence. Dan Feng smirked, only hastening the already frantic beating of your heart. 

You returned his smile, and something in him snapped. Dan Feng’s eyes widened a fraction, cold fire burning white-hot as he eyed your slightly puffy lips. He angled his head, about to dive back into devouring your lips when a loud exclamation drove a knife through the tension between you. 

Baiheng cupped her mouth, shouting, “[y/n]! Dan Feng! Come on already! Jing Yuan will have eaten all the cake by the time you come over here!” 

A shadow flickered over Dan Feng’s expression as the air around you chilled. This was short lived, though. Your giggle interrupted Dan Feng’s momentary annoyance, and he glanced over at you when you brushed your hand against his arm reassuringly. 

“There’s always later, my love. For now, let’s be with our friends, okay?” Dan Feng’s lips pursed and his tail coiled tighter around your waist. However, he exhaled, nodding as his hold on you relinquished. You did not miss the annoyed flick of his tail, though. 

He pulled away and kissed your forehead – the gentle branding of his lips against your skin a loving reminder that you were his until death claimed you. 

“Happy Birthday, [y/n]...” Dan Feng murmured, his voice low as if your love were a secret from the universe itself, so precious that not even the wind could hear the affection in his cold voice. With that, you departed from your little bubble hand-in-hand, promptly rejoining your friends for a long night of celebration. 

Time is a one way street. You can never move backwards, only forwards. And you were traversing it at a far more rapid pace than your long-living companions. You held onto Dan Feng tightly, an idealistic attempt to ground yourself in time’s swift currents. Perhaps if you held on tightly enough death would pardon you. Such thoughts circled your mind, forming a deep vortex of morbidity that inevitably pulled you back down to the pits despair. Indeed, they always plagued you at your highest moments, or at your calmest. 

You yearned for sleep, but whenever you closed your eyes you grappled with the fear that you might not open them again, only for them to droop shut with fatigue. This cycle had persisted for several hours, indicated by the movement of shadows across your bedroom walls. As the moon’s light travelled the room, they would herd themselves away from the pale light, festering in the darkest corners of your bedroom to resume their bleeding dances.  

Dan Feng hardly stirred beside you during this time. He was the deepest sleeper you had ever known, but you still shuffled in the bed with the utmost care as you sat up. Brushing aside the strands of hair sticking to his face, he seemed almost carved out of marble, his face the pinnacle of serenity. You envied it. If only the same could be said for you. Only at night, when truly alone with your thoughts, would the beast of your mortality plague you, fears of your eventual demise weighing down your heart, and imbuing it with a deep-set hopelessness. 

What would happen when you died? A quarter of your life had already passed, and for an immortal another three-quarters of a century was a laughable amount of time. Would he find someone new? No, another thought pestered your mind: would Dan Feng even stay with you throughout the duration of your life? When you grew old and inevitably ugly, what then? Your throat constricted and tears teased your eyes, welling into giant droplets that you fought back with all your willpower. You wanted to laugh, to cry, though no sound escaped you. None would. 

Dan Feng’s slow breaths were your only anchorage in these dark, nocturnal moments. You listened to his rhythmic inhale with the same fervour as one would a sermon, with his existence your entire creed. More than that; he was your entire world. So as to cleanse these macabre thoughts, you lightly brushed your lips against his. Only, you had not expected for your kiss to be reciprocated. 

Dan Feng held the back of your head, pushing your lips onto his even further so that your swirling tongues could become one. His lips were cool and firm, extinguishing the anguished fires blazing within you and igniting a rapid fluttering in your heart. Time’s trickling froze in that bedroom with that kiss. Your thoughts were drowned and all you heard was the mingling gasps of your intertwined breaths. 

The silent moon was the sole witness to your love, almost as if she were your officiator. 

He moved a hand to the small of your back, gently pulling him closer to you so that your chests pressed together. Dan Feng smiled against your lips as he felt your body instinctively relax against his; it was second nature, by this point. You fit together perfectly, exactly like corresponding pieces – was this, perhaps, what Baiheng had meant when she spoke of soulmates?

Much to your dismay, Dan Feng removed his lips from yours. A tiny blush dusted his cheeks and he looked up at you through sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes. Dan Feng’s voice was heavy with drowsiness as he spoke. 

“Could you not sleep?” he whispered, sighing heavily as you peppered a trail of kisses down his jaw, sloping downwards to his neck. You moved away almost as fast as you had descended, looking down at your boyfriend before silencing him with a kiss. It was not met with your expected reception; Dan Feng pulled away from you, all that remained to connect you being a small strand of saliva tying you together like a string of fate. 

“Do we really have to talk…?” you replied, lowering your voice elusively. Slowly, you ran your hands through the long ebon strands of his hair, eliciting a low rumble from the High Elder’s throat. He cocked an eyebrow, then grabbed a hold of your wrist and used that momentum to spin you over so that he was leaning over you. There was nowhere to run. 

Clouds obscured the solitudinous moon outside, submerging the room in even more darkness so that all you could see was the soft, feline glow of Dan Feng’s eyes. Though you could hardly see him, he was all around you; his tail curled around your leg, his hair brushing against your cheeks, his breaths penetrating the gloomy silence of the night. 

“What’s on your mind, [y/n]? …Is it what bothered you earlier tonight?” Dan Feng murmured, his hot breath fanning your lips like a caress. The options diverged before you like a river. Be truthful. Or lie.

 You sighed, both being as bad as the other. Eventually you settled for the honest approach. Dan Feng’s crystalline gaze was sharply perceptive, and you did not want to upset him by lying. Already, from the narrowing of his eyes he seemed to be clearly aware of this inner-debate of yours and patiently awaiting the verdict. 

Your mouth opened and you inhaled deeply. Trepidation weighed down on you like a boulder, but the burden felt instantly lightened as you began to speak quietly. 

“Yingxing had his first white hair today… Did he tell you? I can’t stop thinking about it…” The sheets rustled as Dan Feng sat up, propping himself up with his elbow. His eyes were lucent amongst the shadows, alert and attentive of your words. “I know, it probably sounds silly…” Dan Feng placed a finger against your lips. 

“Don’t say that, [y/n]. I’ll gladly listen to anything you have to say. To answer your question: no, he didn’t tell me. Why, do you think he’ll look bad with white hair?” In another instance you would have laughed at the High Elder’s jab at your brother. But today was your 25th birthday, so naturally you were grieving. You laughed nonetheless, shakily and brimming with ill-contained emotion, the dam that contained it for so long growing dangerously close to bursting. Dan Feng sensed your unease and sat up further, taking you in completely as if you were a painting to study. Your voice was hoarse, the fragment of a whisper. 

“Will you love me even then? When my hair is white and my skin is wrinkled like parchment? Dan Feng… My love… I don’t think you understand how ugly I’ll become! There are plenty of long-lived individuals who would be much better suited to be your companion…! I-I’m sorry… I don’t deserve you…” The words just spilled out of your mouth, as did the tears from your eyes. Shamefully you hid your face in your hands, palms growing wet with your streaming, glistening tears. You were too scared to look at Dan Feng, lest you saw his facial expression; his silence already spoke volumes enough. 

His hands pried away those covering your face and the clouds parted, bathing Dan Feng in the lunar light that poured through the windows. Your breath hitched; he looked beautiful, even when his countenance was sharp with severity, as it was now. His thumbs wiped away your trickling tears, expression softening marginally as he did so. Dan Feng held your face between his hands and he ran his slender fingers along your damp cheeks slowly, comfortingly. Your hand found his, your face leaning into his gentle touch. 

“You have nothing to apologise for, [y/n]...” Dan Feng consoled softly as his brow furrowed, “I often find myself thinking of such things too… Just as I had no choice in being the Imbibitor Lunae, you had no choice in being born as a short life species. I… We just have to make the most of the time we have, my love,” you were promptly silenced by Dan Feng when you opened your mouth to reply, as he continued, 

“Our love cannot be contained by death. I will find you in your next life, dear [y/n].” Dan Feng spoke with utter conviction; you understood why he was so revered as the Vidyadhara High Elder, other than for his majestic power. From his authoritarian tone, cool collection – you could do nothing other than trust in his words; they were soothing, like fresh water to smouldering skin. You wanted to believe, and your hands found his. He interlaced his fingers with yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips and kissing them softly. The sealing of a promise. 

“[y/n]... I can see this has been bothering a lot. Honestly, I had wanted to wait for a more appropriate occasion, but I realised now there is none. All moments with you are as special as any other, so…” He relinquished you from his grip and reached over to his bedside table, from which he procured a small, ornately carved box. Cupping it in his palms, he extended it out towards you like an offering; his wagging tail belied his eagerness for you to open it, which you swiftly did. 

Your voice shook, “...Dan Feng…?” Turning your head, you looked at him through wide eyes, then back at the two jade pieces nestled within the velvet-lined box. They gleamed in the moonlight, highlighting each detail carved of such a quality that spoke of how much Dan Feng must have spent on the marriage items. You gaped like a fish, prompting Dan Feng to chuckle. 

“How about it, [y/n]...?” he asked tentatively. Joyful tears pearled in your eyes. You nodded vigorously, leaning forward to kiss him once more. 

Dan Feng gladly met your kiss, laughing quietly against your lips as you tangled your hands in his hair. Cupping his cheeks, you kissed him again and again, to make up for the years’ of kisses you would miss. Both of your faces grew moist from your coalescing tears; your joy was palpable, and the moon’s light brightened, almost as if celebratory of your union. His tail wrapped itself around you; coupled with his arms, it brought you into a tight embrace that you gladly welcomed. 

His body may have been cold against yours, but his heart blazed like a hearth. You propped your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes as the final tear fell. 

“We will transcend lifetimes, my love,” he mumbled against your ear, giving the lobe a quick, possessive nip before burying his head in the crook of your neck. He pulled you back down onto the bed, his movements growing more and more lethargic as sleep drew its curtain about him. 

Dan Feng exhaled freely, settling back down beside you in a deep slumber. Tail curling around your waist, he pulled you close and securing you in place by draping an arm across your torso. 

“I will find you in your next life.”

Those words played themselves back in your head when you closed your eyes; the promise of eternal love soothing all of your doubts, for the time being. You clung to each syllable like it were some incantation that would secure your immortality – blasphemy be damned. A smile formed on your lips. Eventually, finally, you plunged into a dreamless sleep. 

As the saying goes: when it rains, it pours. That was certainly the case today. 

Lowering your head, you stormed out of the room leaving behind lit candles and faltering smiles. Above you, the skies were a sombre shade of grey, lowering themselves over the world like a funeral pall. The incoming downpour was a welcome sight; each droplet of rain disguised your weeping. 

Instinctively your finger-pads found the cool jade piece and you ran your hands across the carved accessory that marked you forever as Dan Feng’s from the day he gave it to you, a year ago. You funnelled as much comfort from that action as possible, though today it was infinitesimal. 

What had they not understood about you not wanting to celebrate your birthday this year? Not even Yingxing – someone who should have understood your reluctance to mark another year off your mortal lifespan. Dan Feng had just invited you for afternoon tea as he claimed that the Preceptors had given him a day’s respite for your sake. You were looking forward to a quiet afternoon with your spouse. Not streamers, beaming smiles and presents. 

Your heart lurched in your chest. Before you could speak or comprehend anything, you had already turned tail and ran. 

“[y/n]! Wait!” Dan Feng called after you. His voice shattered the damp silence provided by the afternoon mist, by the gentle fall of rain. It went unheard by you; if anything, his words only served to spur on your hasteful exit. The calm broke and the storm descended. 

Lightning forked across the sky, violently illuminating the meticulously curated gardens of your home. The rain poured, crashing down onto the world viciously. A roll of thunder deafened everything beneath the sky; in that time, Dan Feng, swift as a torrent of water, stood behind you. Your body conceivably stiffened and you drew in a deep breath. 

Two hands placed themselves firmly on your shoulders, spinning you round so that you were face to face with your husband. Dan Feng’s eyes blazed with cold fury, behind which lay only a deep, cavernous sorrow. 

“You’re really being a brat, you know that? Why can’t you just make do with what little time we have together?!” he demanded, his grip on your shoulders tightening. His face twisted with despairing desperation and from his expression it was evident that he had tormented himself just as much over such thoughts as you. He huffed loudly, his exhale forming like dragon’s smoke in the glacial air. 

“I love you so much, Dan Feng… But I hate my birthday! Each one is a morbid reminder that I can’t be with you forever, that my time is running out! Of course you wouldn’t understand that, since you have what, at least another five centuries ahead of you!” you exclaimed, responding with equal fervour, balling your fists as you did so. It was like talking to a wall, an impenetrable fortress; Dan Feng was stubborn to a fault, and your words only caused his expression to darken like the clouds above.

Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. 

“How. Dare. You.” Dan Feng’s tail swished warningly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. Never before had you seen his anger directed at you; were you not equally as upset, you would have been terrified by the sight of the High Elder like this – but your anger was your shield, and you returned his narrow-eyed glare. 

“Do you think this is easy on me either, watching time erode at you? Knowing that I will have to bury the love of my life, while I have to persist, alone in this aeon-forsaken world?” And there it was. Dan Feng’s smile had always faltered upon the mention of his position as the Vidyadhara High Elder, a slight rigidity entering his frame; you had not known such sentiments ran so deeply that they intertwined themselves with that of your relationship. 

“This is about you… Isn’t it? You don’t want to be the High Elder anymore,” you said quietly, looking up at him through rain-dusted lashes. Dan Feng recoiled, as if struck by an invisible blow that was the truth of your words. Dan Feng’s lip trembled and he averted his gaze. The downpour lightened, with the rain now only gently falling on you rather than lashing you. By now your clothes were almost soaked through, but you did not mind. 

“I would rather live a short life with you than a solitary long one. That is what it is, being a Vidyadhara,” his voice had lost its previous edge; it was filled with centuries’ worth of pain, so much so that it was almost incomprehensible to you. Dan Feng’s tail and ears drooped, and he appeared almost dejected. 

You reached forward and ran a hand over his jade piece with such care that it could have been taken for his heart. Dan Feng looked down at you, lips parted slightly in surprise. The smile you gave him was sad, yes, but filled with so much love that it could fill all the vacant space in the universe. 

“I know our situation isn’t ideal… But we just have to make the most of it, right?” Dan Feng pursed his lips, but slowly inclined his head in agreement. A small smile had settled on his lips too and he brought you in for a tight embrace, one you happily returned. The two of you stood there, in the rain, holding onto each other so securely you were like shipwrecked souls clinging to a spar. 

Placing a light kiss on your head, Dan Feng rested his chin against it. You felt the deep, soothing vibrations of his voice against you as he spoke.

“[y/n]... I’m sorry for losing my temper around you. It should never have happened in the first place, but I can assure you it never will happen again…” he sighed deeply, “I just wanted to see you happy today… I suppose if I had listened to you and not lied that would have been the case.”

“I know you only had good intentions, Dan Feng… It’s okay. But you should know that simply being with you makes me happy,” you responded softly. And it was true. No amount of material gain, or anything else of the sort could compare to the happiness Dan Feng imbued you with. He was not the sun, but rather the moon of your life: gentle, thoughtful, calm and beautiful. You needed little else in your short life. 

Though the clouds still lingered in a dense cluster, lucent rays of sunlight streamed through. The light bathed the world a honey-like gold, causing the remaining rainwater to glow, its droplets like yellow topazes. Birdsong ensued, a melodic declaration that the worst had passed. 

Dan Feng tilted his head upwards, eyes glued upon the heavens. Then, his placid gaze returned to you and he took your hand. 

“How about we have tea tomorrow afternoon? Just the two of us,” Dan Feng suggested hopefully. Your expression immediately brightened upon hearing this, and your smile broadened. 

“Really? I’d love that! But I promised Yingxing I’d join him on an excursion tomorrow, so it will have to be later. I hope that’s okay.” Dan Feng kissed your cheek, then your lips. 

“Of course it’s okay,” he whispered, face barely inches apart from yours. Dan Feng then glanced back at where your party was being held, mischievousness glimmering in his eyes like his scintillating scales. “They probably don’t miss us… How about we ditch them?” 

You mock-gasped, covering your mouth theatrically. 

“And leave our friends behind?” Dan Feng smirked. He secured an arm around your waist and hoisted you up, so that he was carrying you bridal-style. 

“They’ll understand,” Dan Feng said as if it were the simplest fact in the world. In a way, it was. Your love transcended every other aspect of life, even death. 

The tea had been sitting there for some time. By now, the steam that arose from it was little more than a wisp, and when Dan Feng checked the temperature, the tea had almost gone cold. It was a brew best served hot, and the souring of its aroma indicated its prime drinking time had passed; Dan Feng would have to brew another cup for you, once you returned. 

An afternoon haze had settled upon the Luofu, granting it an almost dream-like quality as a cool breeze wafted through the half-open window. 

Ordinarily, Dan Feng would enjoy times like these; slow afternoons were his favourites if you were by his side, your head on his lap while he buried himself in a good book, or when the two of you would walk, hand in hand, through the gardens of your shared abode. But today, it was overrun by concern – just where were you? 

He rose from his seat, dusting his robes off before he approached the window. By the sun’s position in the sky several hours had passed since the agreed upon time for your meeting. Tardiness was uncharacteristic of you; Jing Yuan liked to joke that he had found his soulmate in you, for when Dan Feng liked to arrive five minutes early, you would arrive ten. He drummed his fingers against the window-sill and took a long inhale. Surely everything was okay… right? 

Outside, the zephyric wind rustled the trees, the blades of grass, and the small set of wind-chimes scattered around your garden. Dan Feng still recalled the day you had brought them home: a gift from Yingxing. As expected of the smith’s impressive skill, the objects sounded less like wind-chimes than a tiny orchestra playing at the whim of the breeze. Dan Feng closed his eyes, grounding his racing thoughts on each twinkling chime. The opening of the door roused him from his meditations. Dan Feng’s eyes snapped open, accompanied by the soaring hopes of your arrival. He turned, tail swishing and the smile forming upon his lips faltered. 

Yingxing’s face was pale and his cheeks hollow; dark circles shadowed his eyes, which were lined with fatigue. By the grim set of his mouth and pained eyes, Dan Feng’s heart plummeted. He left his spot by the window swiftly, going to greet his friend, though, based on his expression, a greeting wouldn’t be the only thing Dan Feng would receive from the smith. 

“Where’s [y/n]?” he asked slowly. Yingxing’s eyes were glassy, a near vacant expression about him. Dan Feng’s words caused light to re-enter his eyes, in which tears pooled. He opened his mouth to speak. No words came out. Panic surged within Dan Feng and he clasped Yingxing’s shoulder, his nails digging into his brother-in-law’s skin. 

“Where. Is. [y/n],” he repeated, employing all of his meditative training from the Preceptors to keep his voice level. Yinxging’s lip quivered, his brow creasing with profound guilt. His voice wobbled with ill-contained emotion. 

“We were… ambushed.” Yingxing’s words struck a lethal blow to Dan Feng, who was now already fearing the worst. He took a deep, calming breath. Hopefully, you were already in the hands of the Alchemy Commission, being treated for whatever wounds you had sustained. Hopefully. Dan Feng could only hope. 

“[y/n]... Didn’t make it back.” Dan Feng wasn’t sure where the sound came from – was it the breaking of his heart, or the shattering of his hope? His shoulders slumped, the first time the High Elder’s composure had collapsed in front of closed doors, not behind. The world grew quiet save for the frantic pounding of his heart. His sweet [y/n]... How could this have happened? 

He was completely oblivious to his grief, to its manifestation is pearlescent tears. Dan Feng’s body grew cold, almost glacial – far more so than his regular cold-blooded body heat. Waves of numbness caressed at his being, which he gladly welcomed. Anything to not feel. The tsunami of emotions licked at the back of his mind with its forked tongue, thankfully suppressed by his blank state. 

“We were able to recover their body, though,” Yingxing mumbled. Dan Feng’s eyes snapped back up to Yingxing, recovering from their momentary daze. The smith’s face was wet with tears; he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and now blood trickled down instead. 

Your body was carted slowly into the room by his Vidyadhara attendants, who openly wept at the loss of you. Wherever you walked, kindness had followed; you had been loved by all, and now mourned by all. The way they clustered about your sheet-covered body, it appeared almost like a funeral procession. Upon witnessing this the final threads of Dan Feng’s composure snapped. 

“Everyone get out, now!” he barked, tail swishing warningly from side to side in jerky movements. The servants bowed, quickly scurrying out of the room after having deposited your body. Yingxing recoiled from the harshness of Dan Feng’s words, bracing himself by squaring his shoulders. Eventually, he lowered his head, nodding and turned to exit the room. Before he left, Yinxing stopped in his tracks. 

“I’m sorry.” The sincerity of his voice shook Dan Feng. Contempt boiled within him, rising like a sweltering geyser.  

“You should have taken their place,” Dan Feng hissed. Yinxging laughed mirthlessly. 

“I know. I’m not a very good brother, am I?” With those words left in the air, he left quietly, muffling his bawling. And Dan Feng was all alone with your corpse. 

Only then did the first sob escape him, an utterly foreign sound it was almost incomprehensible to Dan Feng. The tears slid down his cheeks like all the moments he had lost with you. His shoulders shook as he wept. Dan Feng wept, and wept. Vidyadhara tears were coveted for their beauty and rarity, yet there was nothing beautiful about this. You were dead, far before your time; and he was all alone. 

The sun was beginning its descent to the horizon, and Dan Feng’s heart ached, as did his eyes. With his sleeve, he wiped at the final droplets that weighed down on his lashes. His eyes were dry; there were no more tears left to cry. 

Dan Feng looked down at the table, at the tepid tea that you would never drink. Finally, he braced himself and looked over to the litter upon which you were stretched out. He got up. Each step he took towards it sealed your fate a little more, that you were in fact dead. Tentatively, he removed the muslin sheet covering you. 

Tears welled in his eyes once more, renewed grief crashing like waves on rocks. He thought he had been ready… But upon seeing your ashen face, eyes closed peacefully as if dormant, Dan Feng realised how gravely mistaken he was. With a shaking hand, he brushed a strand of hair away from your cold face. The final intimate gesture Dan Feng could give you, one so simple yet inherently painful that Dan Feng’s throat constricted, oxygen growing in short supply. 

As the High Elder, Dan Feng had been prepared from everything. From his hatching, he had endured gruelling training, with so much information drilled into him so as to ready him for any situation that may come to pass. And yet, the Preceptors had failed to teach him how to deal with a broken heart. Or the death of a loved one. 

Before you, Dan Feng had accepted the solitudinous life that accompanied being the Imbibitor Lunae. He would walk life’s street alone, and he was okay with that. Until you. Like the sun behind parted clouds, you had shown him unimaginable happiness, such that he thought unattainable in combination with his duties to the Luofu and the Vidyadhara. With you, he came to realise how empty his life has been; he had not been a man, merely a hollowed out puppet destined to carry out the will of the Elders and never his own. Until you. 

He stared down at you, clenching his fist so hard that his nails dug into his palms. Your serenity in death juxtaposed his own unrest; Dan Feng clenched his fist, a string of silent curses passing through his bereaved mind. 

Your death was a testament to time’s impatience. Sometimes, in its cruelty, it would take someone before their time – time was a greedy, merciless, being, gaining happiness from snatching such fleeting moments from its victims. 

Dan Feng cradled your body close to him, letting loose another series of sobs as he broke down into a million little pieces. Any semblance of composure had dissipated, leaving Dan Feng in this tangled mess of tears and emotions.  “Aeons… It wasn’t supposed to be you…!” He hollered, falling to his knees as if praying for your revival. 

 With the fire of his life extinguished, there was little else there to support him. Nothing, nobody, could ever come close to you. An irretrievable piece of himself had been lost that day, and his following collapse was little short of spectacular. 

Inevitably, you would come to learn of Dan Feng’s unravelling following your death, except not in this life.

You blinked, and the present moment blossomed. Time slowed. But it was too late. 

And thus, Blade’s cracked sword impaled itself within Dan Heng’s chest. He staggered backwards, spear falling from his grasp with a loud clatter. As his vision blurred his eyes sought yours once more. Your eyes met, and the shock on Dan Heng’s face receded, morphing into tranquillity. 

A scream rose up your throat and, forgoing everything, you ran towards Dan Heng. Only, Blade’s arm barred you and he roughly pushed you backwards. The crazed zeal in his bloody eyes blazed like a pyre when a bright light pierced the cloudy skies of Scalegorge Waterscape, subduing your protests against the Stellaron Hunter. 

There had been no time for tears; fear had been left behind on the Express when you had agreed to follow Dan Heng onto the Luofu. Before you, he changed, blooming into something wholly new, and no less beautiful. Though, as you beheld Dan Heng, your breath hitched; he was nothing short of ethereal. 

His onyx hair cascaded down his back, iridescent cerulean horns sprouting, resting upon his head like a crown. For Dan Heng was regal, and as you saw his sinuous tail, you gaped. Memories of another life plunged you into arctic waters, striking at your head with such force your knees sagged. Clutching your temple you squeezed your eyes shut, the splitting pain almost growing too much to bear. 

You felt Blade’s spiteful gaze land upon you, its intensity adding to the crushing weight that this sight of Dan Heng had provided you with. As you squinted through half-opened eyes and beheld Dan Heng’s Vidyadhara form, all you could see was Dan Feng. Except… 

The subtle differences awoke you from the memories’ clutches. This was not the Vidyadhara who walked in the gallery of your memories, like a faded canvas. Though they originated from the same muse, there was no longer the arrogant arch to his brow, nor the playfully defiant curve of his lips. 

No matter what Blade had insinuated earlier, this was not Dan Feng. This was Dan Heng, blazing like a vengeful sun. Your Dan Heng. You recalled the promise of the man in your dreams, now fulfilled. A single tear dripped down your cheek, like a fallen star. 

Slowly, Dan Heng lowered back down to the ground. Shoving past Blade, you sprinted towards him, tackling him into a hug. Dan Heng flinched, taken by surprise from your actions, but his body eased against yours as he enveloped his arms around you. He smelled of seawater and fresh lotus flowers, though the undertones of the papery scent from all the books he consumed still lingered. 

Your reunion was brief, though, much like the fleeting caress between a shooting star and the moon. A youthful voice penetrated the stillness, breaking the calm lingering before the storm. Regretfully, you pulled away and beheld Yanqing, the young Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights.

From the way in which his amber eyes pierced daggers at Blade, it was evident he had been in hounding pursuit of the Stellaron Hunter. His eyebrows raised, mouth parting a little; clearly he had not expected to see Dan Heng here, in this form. You supposed he saw another in place of the guard of the Express, for his eyes narrowed dangerously. 

His momentary lapse subsided, and determined focus descended over his young face.

“You…” you were not sure to whom his words were directed at specifically, but both Blade and Dan Heng raised their chins in acknowledgement of his address.  “Two wanted criminals of the Luofu, all in one place!” he exclaimed. To your surprise, the lieutenant drew his sword, extending it in challenge to the three of you. 

You glanced over at Dan Heng. His face hardened, bracing for an incoming battle; Yanqing would not let you pass otherwise, and you had to reconvene with your Express crewmates. As such, there seemed to be no other alternative other than using force. You drew your sword, and the three of you plunged into battle. 

There was a blur beside you. Blade descended into the battle. The three of you fought side by side against the lieutenant, and a flash of the past flickered before you. Except, in place of Blade’s dark mane of hair, there was white; in place of Dan Heng, there was Dan Feng, the High Elder of the Luofu and the Imbibitor Lunae. You couldn’t restrain the smile playing on your lips. 

It was exactly like the old days, oh so long ago. Though in different forms, with time having twisted fate’s weave over you, the three of you fought, united once again. 

The battle persisted. For such a young man, he fought surprisingly well, standing his own against the three of you. Blood rushed through your body, hasty breaths allocating the much needed oxygen to propel you onwards. You ducked, you dived, fighting with all your strength. Though, you were hesitant to injure the young boy. 

Beside you, Dan Heng fought with unparalleled grace. Each movement, each stroke of cloud hymn was executed with the utmost precision. If battle were an art, Dan Heng was creating a masterpiece. His flowing limbs were more like the undulations of water, contrasted to the harsh, vicious movements of Blade. 

It was ironic how in this battle, you felt your safest. Beside them you knew you would come out victorious. 

Your focus greatened, your periphery shrinking so that you could only see what stood before you: your opponent. His hair slipped from his ponytail and his clothes were slightly dishevelled. Yet he persisted, determined to detain the two criminals of the Luofu. For Dan Heng’s sake, you could not let that happen. 

You would not allow yourselves to be parted in this life.

Your cheeks reddened as a chill descended upon the air, coagulating in the form of several glacial swords around Yanqing. Blade halted, a question forming on his lips. You knew it before he even spoke – where had he learned such a technique from? 

Yanqing ignored the question, his resolve unfaltering. His intentions were as clear as the ice of his swords, and you knew that this would not end well. You reconvened with Dan Heng; unlike you, he appeared completely unscathed, looking more pristine than ever. 

“Are you all right?” you asked breathlessly. He responded with a curt nod. 

Your body moved before you could reply. As Yanqing launched a barrage of crystalline ice shards towards Dan Heng, you barrelled into him, shoving him out of the way. An apology formed in your mind; you hoped that he would forgive you, and your lovesick stupidity. Yanqing’s attack struck, but not at its intended target. 

Your vision was blanketed with darkness, and a pair of strong arms grasped you. Was it death’s embrace? Had it missed you so much that it had come to collect you early, once again? Everything was soon answered. 

Light flickered behind your eyelids and you blinked tiredly. Dan Heng looked down at you, eyes wide with concern. At their reddened corners sat several fat tears, though he refused to let them fall. You smiled. Time had been merciful, this time. 

Reaching upwards, and stirring him from his panicked reverie, you wiped away the tears from Dan Heng’s eyes. The relief that washed over him was palpable; his body sagged, the tension cleansed. 

“Oh thank the aeons,” Dan Heng breathed, bringing your bruised body close into his chest. You wished to hug him back. Though when you attempted to move your arms, pain shot up your arms like vines. 

“Please don’t move, [y/n]... You’re hurt,” he said softly. You only nodded, trying your best to lean into your lover’s embrace. The two of you remained like that for several minutes, both silently thanking the aeons, or whatever the cosmic forces were that had granted you more time. 

You looked up at Dan Heng, absorbing every detail of his face. His lucent, azure eyes, his long lashes, the sharp planes of his face that held a certain softness when viewed from a specific angle and his oh so kissable lips. Of course, there were new features as well laced over the old such as the slight angulation to his eyes, the lightening of his irises and most evidently: his ears, horns and tail. 

He was both Dan Feng and yet not, a paradox that your recent memories of your past life struggled to discern. Here stood Dan Heng: the guard of the Astral Express, and your stoic and endearing boyfriend. However, the question still lingered. Without addressing it, you would forever remain in a state of uncertainty. So, you asked, 

“Do you… Remember?” Speaking was an effort, from the way your chest erupted in pain as you spoke, you were certain several ribs had been broken. Your question came out as more of a wheeze, but Dan Heng answered nonetheless. His jaw was set, his countenance contemplative. 

“Only fragments. How he felt, more than anything. When I close my eyes, I can see your smile, though – from back then.” Dan Heng was not Dan Feng, but the former High Elder was still an inextricable part of the latter’s life. The tiniest imprints remained of Imbibitor Lunae, like the diminishing echoes of one’s footsteps in a gallery. He could never fully escape his shadow, for without it he would have never found you again. 

In spite of your painful chest, you inhaled sharply. 

“So… You know what happened.” Dan Heng’s lips thinned in grim affirmation. 

“Yes,” he replied softly, “I’m never letting go of you again, [y/n]. That’s a promise.” His grip around you tightened a fraction, a reflection of his conviction. As Dan Heng nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, cradling you gently, he smiled, reaching an understanding with his former self. 

Although Dan Feng’s experiences, much like those of your past self, were a series of blurred motions overruled by the emotions evoked at the time, he could recall the warm embrace of someone dear to the former High Elder. And that same comfort could be found in yours. 

note: i won my 50/50 for Dan Heng so this ended happily :)

© bladesmuse 2023 - do not copy, repost or translate my writing

taglist: @c0metes , @catzpawn , @elf-osamu , @lunaescient , @yanqingisim

Apparently a lot of people get dialogue punctuation wrong despite having an otherwise solid grasp of grammar, possibly because they’re used to writing essays rather than prose. I don’t wanna be the asshole who complains about writing errors and then doesn’t offer to help, so here are the basics summarized as simply as I could manage on my phone (“dialogue tag” just refers to phrases like “he said,” “she whispered,” “they asked”):

“For most dialogue, use a comma after the sentence and don’t capitalize the next word after the quotation mark,” she said.

“But what if you’re using a question mark rather than a period?” they asked.

“When using a dialogue tag, you never capitalize the word after the quotation mark unless it’s a proper noun!” she snapped.

“When breaking up a single sentence with a dialogue tag,” she said, “use commas.”

“This is a single sentence,” she said. “Now, this is a second stand-alone sentence, so there’s no comma after ‘she said.’”

“There’s no dialogue tag after this sentence, so end it with a period rather than a comma.” She frowned, suddenly concerned that the entire post was as unasked for as it was sanctimonious.