UNREQUITED,  FALSE ASSUMPTIONS  &  PINING  PROMPTS 

I am a(n):

⚪ Male

⚪ Female

🔘 Writer

Looking for

⚪ Boyfriend

⚪ Girlfriend

🔘 An incredibly specific word that I can't remember

How to write a kiss scene

requested by: anon request: How do I write a good kiss scene? As how do I describe it? What details or words would make it good?

What goes into the writing of a kiss scene?

details to incorporate:

the sensations in their stomach, their chest, and their knees

the way their breathing changes shortly before the kiss

the feeling of the other's hands

the texture of the other's clothing

the moment they realise they've reached the point of no return

the feeling they're left with after the kiss

words to use...

... to describe the kiss:

tentative

tender

hesitant

quick

soft

gentle

delicate

languid

feathery

familiar

exploring

hungry

heated

fiery

frantic

impatient

sloppy

messy

aggressive

... to describe how they feel about the kiss:

nervous

excited

giddy

anxious

apprehensive

ambiguous

surprised

reassured

certain

confident

relieved

eager

greedy

... to show what the lips do:

exploring each other

brushing over each other

locking

devouring

touching

sealing

pressing against each other

capturing

lapping

tasting

crushing together

travelling (the other's body)

trailing (down to the other's chin)

grinning into the kiss

caressing

lingering

... to show how their body reacts:

feeling warm all over

buzzing

humming

pumping/palpitating heart

clenching lungs

joy bubbling up

tingly stomach

warm chest

burning cheeks

sweaty palms

blood rushing through their veins

... to describe what their hands are doing:

tangling in their lover's hair

wrapping their arms around their lover's neck

intertwining their fingers with their lover

resting on their lover's hips

pressing into their lover's shoulder blades

cupping their lover's cheeks

touching their lover's chin

curling their arm around their lover's waist

resting on their lover's shoulders

grabbing their lover's collar

sneaking up under their lover's shirt

brushing over their lover's bare skin

lightly squeezing their lover's butt

focus on:

the sensations instead of what's physically happening. (the protagonists might very well not know themselves what is happening exactly, but they feel very precisely)

I hope this helps <3

MIDNIGHT HAZE — rin itoshi.

— notes ⨾ ive been shying away from posting this for too long now. [ sensual/making out ] and heavy on the details hahahs

Rin takes note of the way you're shrinking in your seat beside him, how your arms are protectively tucked in your sides and the subtle but sharp inhales.

from his peripheral vision, he can see that you're gnawing on your bottom lip, gulping hard to swallow your sniffles because he knows you don't like to be seen crying. which is why he's not sure why he's in his living room with you beside him at 2 am watching some sappy sad movie you picked. it's been an hour already since you started your movie marathon and he could've suggested you watch a horror movie instead— but he didn't, and he thinks he regrets it now.

He sighs, pausing the movie and reaching for the box of tissues he's glad he set on the table just in case. he offers it to you, smiling a little to himself when you hesitantly take it, as if you're still not ready to accept you're crying.

“you're such a crybaby” he says. by now a few tears are falling down your cheeks, leaving a damp trail behind in their wake.

“shut up, I'm not. i don't cry often, i swear”, you whimper with the wobble of your lip, and rin laughs. it's the irony of this scenario that swells his heart. you're looking at him with narrow, glassy eyes and warm hues setting on your skin. your words are meant to be firm and legitimate, but you're voice is hushed and low.

“okay, crybaby” he teases, and you pout.

his room glows in a faded shade of honey with the paper lamp you bought him as a housewarming gift. there's nothing but the sound of his steady breathing, and your quivering one. a touch of the scent of lemongrass from the air freshener lingers in the air and rin realises he's been staring at you.

there's still a dampness sticking to your cheeks and rin wants —such a treacherous thing to do— to trace his finger along the trails. feel the smoothness and warmth of your skin. when you realise he's looking at you, embarassment blooms in shades of fuchsia, “stop staring at me like that.”

rin hums. he heard you, doesn't think much about it. and before he realises what he's doing, he's caressing the side of your face. it's a ghost of a touch at first, “staring like what?”

“like you're doing right now” you breath hitches in your throat at the tenderness of rin's caress. momentarily closing your eyes, you lean into his touch. his gaze devours you whole, it makes you want to shrink further into the couch, but at the same time— daring you to wait and see where it takes you.

when all you can hear is the loud thumps of your own heart, watching the steady rise and fall of rin's shoulders as he's gazing through the soul window of your eyes, you're painfully aware that the two of you are alone.

“can't help it,” he mumbles. “god, you're beautiful” he says.

the faint glow of moonlight strips lines of silver across the room, and rin's bathed in luminescence. you can't help but trace the sharp white cut of his collarbone and the flutter of his eyelashes, over the broad expanse of his chest and the slopes of shoulders down to the ridges of hard muscle roping the length of his forearm. you take in his light. he takes in yours.

there are too many details. too much to breathe in yet not enough at the same time. a drug-like midnight haze encompasses the room, the air in the room is electrified and frozen still. rin's fingers travel down from your cheekbones to the corner of your mouth, then brush lightly against your chin.

you can't think. can't say anything. it's like your voice is caught in your own throat. all you feel is the heaviness of the air and the brushes of rin's fingers across your skin. mind blurring with the lines of a countless ‘what ifs’ and moments you've felt the same heaviness in the air, times when the glances you steal from each other lasted longer than they should've.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, and rin's eyes follow the action. his gaze rests there and your falls to his.

there's a momentary pause, as if you're caught in a trance. as if there's hesitation and doubts filling the spaces left behind your words. rin's eyes are still set on your slightly parted lips.

and then it breaks.

you feel it in the form of a shiver running down your spine when the lightning in the room reaches a breaking point, you think rin feels it too. there's a shift in his shoulders when he leans forward at the very second time melts into infinity— a magnetic pull drawing you both in.

rin's other hand supports his weight when he practically crawls on all fours and rolls forward on the leg tucked beneath him.

his lips surround yours— desperate, heated, almost obscene. it's nowhere near the gentle caress from before. teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip, long and languid glides of tongue against tongue. he breathes in all of your gasps and mewls, chasing after your breaths to consume you whole like he's waited forever for this very moment. breaths tangle in heated knots of passion, you're holding onto rin's arms, aware that your hands are almost shaking. this is not your first kiss. you've kissed people before. but it's your first kiss with rin and he's made you forget there was anyone ever before him.

you pull away first, breathless and hot. it's addictive— the way rin's lips chase after yours, eyes fluttering open when he can't find them. but he's still close. so, so close. forehead resting on yours and hot breaths fanning against your mouth.

his eyes are brimming with awe and glimmer, but lips swollen and sinful. the contrast is striking— awestruck eyes and moon-bruised lips.

rin falls back into the couch, calming his staggered breaths and throbbing heart.

it takes a long minute before either of you speak again.

“do you regret it?” it's a whisper that's almost raw with desperation and fear. rin's eyes are glued to you again, waiting for an answer.

“i don't. i'd never regret it. do you?” though still breathless, your voice is bold.

“regret?—” he chuckles, as if you asked a dumb question, “—you have no idea, how long I've wanted this. wanted you.” it's a declaration— of all his unconfessed feelings, all the times he'd stopped himself just short of the breaking point. “i feel like i'm about to lose my mind.”

“me too”, is all you can say. it's all you can think.

and if rin senses that, then he smiles, “why don't we try that again?”

© seimirii 2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

i hope this is what you wanted m'lady @rinnahhhh

(source)

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Please add on if you know any more sites for free images <3

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

Words to describe facial expressions

Absent: preoccupied 

Agonized: as if in pain or tormented

Alluring: attractive, in the sense of arousing desire

Appealing: attractive, in the sense of encouraging goodwill and/or interest

Beatific: blissful

Black: angry or sad, or hostile

Bleak: hopeless

Blinking: surprise, or lack of concern

Blithe: carefree, lighthearted, or heedlessly indifferent

Brooding: anxious and gloomy

Bug eyed: frightened or surprised

Chagrined: humiliated or disappointed

Cheeky: cocky, insolent

Cheerless: sad

Choleric: hot-tempered, irate

Darkly: with depressed or malevolent feelings

Deadpan: expressionless, to conceal emotion or heighten humor

Despondent: depressed or discouraged

Doleful: sad or afflicted

Dour: stern or obstinate

Dreamy: distracted by daydreaming or fantasizing

Ecstatic: delighted or entranced

Faint: cowardly, weak, or barely perceptible

Fixed: concentrated or immobile

Gazing: staring intently

Glancing: staring briefly as if curious but evasive

Glazed: expressionless due to fatigue or confusion

Grim: fatalistic or pessimistic

Grave: serious, expressing emotion due to loss or sadness

Haunted: frightened, worried, or guilty

Hopeless: depressed by a lack of encouragement or optimism

Hostile: aggressively angry, intimidating, or resistant

Hunted: tense as if worried about pursuit

Jeering: insulting or mocking

Languid: lazy or weak

Leering: sexually suggestive

Mild: easygoing

Mischievous: annoyingly or maliciously playful

Pained: affected with discomfort or pain

Peering: with curiosity or suspicion

Peeved: annoyed

Pleading: seeking apology or assistance

Quizzical: questioning or confused

Radiant: bright, happy

Sanguine: bloodthirsty, confident

Sardonic: mocking

Sour: unpleasant

Sullen: resentful

Vacant: blank or stupid looking

Wan: pale, sickly

Wary: cautious or cunning

Wide eyed: frightened or surprised

Withering: devastating

Wrathful: indignant or vengeful

Wry: twisted or crooked to express cleverness or a dark or ironic feeling

Favorite Muse (Model!Uzui Tengen x Photographer!Reader) Ko-fi Request

Sooo yes another request for kimetsu no yaiba with our flamboyant Tengen Uzui.Maybe an a/o/b fic (I like how you write them) or an modern au where Tengen is a model (instagram models?) And reader is sort of his personal photographer .I dont mind if you mix the two together.

I’m sorry this took so long, I hope this finds you with some good timing since season 2 is finally out and it is Uzui in all his glory. I’d like to write more stories and blurbs with a photographer/model relationship, this one was a fun one to write. thank you so much for the support! I hope you enjoy!!!

title: Favorite Muse

pairing: Uzui Tengen/Reader

rating: slight nsfw

- - - - - - - -  - - - - - - - -

I have a new shoot idea I want to try.

You glance at your phone, blinking in surprise over the top of your energy drink. You glance at the familiar contact name and look back to your current editing project—the wedding photos should be done by the end of the night if you keep on track. You’re scheduled for a few more shoots in the morning and had planned to kick back as a little reward to yourself.

You consider your options briefly. A new string of texts follow the first, and you know it’s just him trying to incite you even further for whatever crackpot idea he’s come up with this time. You know with how he is, he won’t let it drop if it’s an idea he’s especially fond of, even if it means a half-nude shoot in the middle of the god damn Antarctic because somehow—

The one and only elusive model Uzui Tengen’s photos—they always sell.

You can tell him no, suffer the consequences of having him barrage you for the next few days, suffer the even harder consequences of having one of the girls try to persuade you into doing it—you’re particularly weak to Hinatsuru’s advances—and also miss out on a chance to make some extra pocket change for what you get as Uzui Tengen’s one and only private contractor and photographer. But, what you do get in return is a peaceful, stress-free night to yourself, which is hopelessly and utterly rare and your body is rather beat and haggard after all these back-to-back shoots and especially that god damn rock climbing advertisement, you shouldn’t have done that one. 

Or, you could say yes; get paid handsomely because Tengen’s photos always sell well, get to eat Hinatsuru’s cooking because she’ll have heard you’ll be stopping by the studio and would make sure something’s ready, get to partake in the luxuries that surround the Uzui household, get Uzui off your back for about forty-eight hours max…

Your phone is still being spammed with texts. You ignore them, staring at the happy couple smearing cake onto each other’s faces. When Uzui and the girls finally get a proper wedding in place, you’d take those photos in a heartbeat. You know they’d be the kind for the record books.

Your phone lights up now with a phone call. You suddenly consider turning down the offer out of spite, nursing your energy drink with dull eyes. Your gaze does stray, however, to the pile of take-out containers sitting on your work desk. You frown at them, feeling your stomach churn at the thought of Hinatsuru’s warm porridge…

Your stomach wins. You swipe your phone, pressing it to your ear.

“Finally! What are you doing not picking up my calls at this hour?” you hear music blasting from Uzui’s side and suddenly wonder if you’ve made the wrong choice. “I know, are you getting off on my photos? You can just come and I’ll help you out. No need to play by yourself.”

“What’s this idea of yours?” you say, checking your schedule. If Uzui leaves you alone for the next two days, you can schedule a day-off after the male calendar shoot… yeah, this can work out! “If it’s the frosting idea in a different theme, I’m going to cut all ties with you—”

“You love taking my photos too much,” Uzui says, sounding bored. “I want to do something good for Valentine’s. A single theme, straight-forward, nothing crazy this time, actually.”

“The most flamboyant man on earth,” you say flatly. “And it’s nothing crazy?”

“It’ll be more than enough, baby,” Uzui says. You imagine him kicking his head back, lounging on some kind of leather couch tucked into a dazzling club somewhere or another. The man’s got too much energy, too much stamina, and you’re not really sure where he keeps it. “Less is more, you know?”

You do know. You always tell him those exact words. But for Uzui Tengen, it’s either go big or go home. That’s why his shoots always require you to clear out your schedule the day after because they’re far too arduous for you to do anything else.

“I don’t like how secretive you’re being with the whole thing,” you say, clicking to clean up another photo. “Give me something to mull over. I’ll be there after seven.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Fine, but you’re staying until it’s done.”

You nod, even though he can’t see it. You get the feeling he knows anyway though because he continues, “One word theme. Think about it however you’d like, sweetheart.”

You wait, tapping a finger idly against the minimizing key. You hear the music dull in the background, wondering if he’s moving away from the source of noise. His side quiets, and all you hear is the faint rustle of fabric, and then you imagine Uzui’s phone pressed against the side of his face, maybe held up in his hand, right by his mouth—

The husky, low alto of his voice nearly catches you off guard for a second. Uzui whispers it, sweet, like honey against your ears.

“Seduction.”

Keep reading

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

walked - hiked - moved - shuffled - toddled - sauntered - ambled - tiptoed - meandered - strolled

laughed - chortled - chuckled - giggled - snorted - guffawed - howled - snickered - shrieked

wanted - ached for - wished - craved - coveted - fancied - pined - aspired

ran - sprinted - galloped - scampered - bolted - trotted - dashed - raced - jogged

jumped - bounced - hopped - leapt - hurtled - vaulted - barged - bounded

midnight endeavors. - wanderer x reader

genre : fluff

scenario : listening to wanderer's life history for the first time. ( reader is inspired from infp-ish personality bc i adore the idea of scara with a soft s/o)

the wanderer was used to a lot of things. in his painfully long existence, he’d seen things people would never dare dream of, walked through hell confidently with a bitter smirk plastered on his fair face. gritted his teeth through the painful betrayals from those most important to him only to realize it was never as he perceived the truth to be. and after everything, 

in the end- here he was. his indigo eyes looked a tad softer, clearer than you remembered as you finally finished listening to him explaining his past. you felt the amount of trust he had put in you, and wanted nothing more than to embrace him at this moment. yet, silent fear of disturbing him nagged at the back of your mind. to wait. wait for him to open himself more to you. wait until he is completely comfortable with your touch. 

otherwise, perhaps he’d break or scatter from your touch. especially with the forceful disinterested voice and masked blank expression he skillfully upheld in front of you. you could see through his facade, but decided to hold your tongue. one day. one day he’d be ready and you planned on waiting for that day no matter how long it takes. 

when he finished talking and finally glanced at you, however, you noticed his clear, calm violet eyes flash in an expression that resembled revelation.

he crossed his arms to mask his shock again, to keep his composure as he always did around everyone. 

“... why are you crying?” he tried, he swore he really tried not to sound judgmental and crude as he talks to everybody else. he remembers how your face fell subtly whenever he made a particularly harsh statement, how you’d try to explain his behavior to people who weren’t accustomed to him. the worst of it all, he sometimes didn’t know you were in a bad mood already and made it worse with his sharp tongue. no, wanderer never meant it towards you, ever. that’s why he was trying so hard, trying and learning this paradox of  “human emotion” he used to despise to the fullest.

you, on the other hand, only realized a stray tear had rolled down your cheek when he explicitly pointed it out. the mention of his young friend, the ashes and heart, the bittersweet tragedy of his tale as kabukimono, as kunikuzushi, as balladeer and now, as your wanderer. everything about him made you crave more, need more of him, want to love, and be loved in return. especially once you realized he was capable of love no matter how much he defied your suspicions. after all, there was no denying the warmth in his gaze sometimes, no lie in his featherlight touch when he sometimes absentmindedly caresses your cheek when he thinks you’re sleeping. he touches you so gently, like he didn’t believe his sight. like he wasn’t sure if you, or him in fact were real. maybe he had really fallen and faded away to nothing but ashes. maybe he never truly awoke again after his bitter defeat, falling from the sky-high seat of a god, only to be reduced to nothing but dust the moment he fell from that mechanical body. that’s why the true gods he used to hate so much have finally graced him with this hard-to-believe reality- a beautiful one, a meaning in life he found with you by his side. 

he was free now, he was determined in spending the rest of his time wandering the vast world to destinations that suit his liking. until he met yet another mortal he’d fallen hopelessly attached to. 

a joke, wasn’t it? wanderer was sure he had learnt from his past. even if it never meant that his mortal kins were unfaithful to him, he was still convinced that mortals just weren’t meant to exist alongside him. only this time, your loving gaze on him kept coaxing his true self out of his shell with no regards to his reluctance. no, in truth he didn’t want to grow this close to you. but he couldn’t deny you, the closer you came to the wanderer, the more he felt himself slipping away from the clutches of his old persona. he truly changed, thanks to you, a mere mortal- frail, emotional, soft spoken and sweet-toothed who cries at the tales of someone else. unbelievable. 

“i’m so sorry- i didn’t mean to, it was just-” you stumbled over your words, unsure how to explain how you felt about his past. the last thing you wanted was for him to get annoyed over your tears or somehow make him misunderstand that you’re making this about yourself. you really wanted to say how thankful you were to be trusted, how you would be there for when the nights seemed darker than usual, yet no coherent words left your mouth. amidst your panic and futile attempts at hiding your tear-stained face, you failed to notice his same violet eyes soften even more than before. so this was what it felt like to have someone by your side, to have someone… so endearing, crying over his pain as if it were your own. he did, in fact, have friends before, two of them even. but what he was feeling inside was nothing he’d ever imagined prior to your fated encounter.

the wanderer wasn’t sure if he could put a finger on his feelings for now. but he was sure he was gradually realizing why he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you when you aren’t paying attention to him- even if this meant he would end up proving that he was just as human as you were. why he was infinitely entertained by your reactions to his teasing, and sometimes bickering. how he wasn’t entirely angered when you won the pesky quarrel with a witty remark. how he’d “accidentally” brush his hand against yours just to see your eyes widen and avoid his gaze like nothing happened. your body language never lied, that’s one thing he found amusing about you. 

speaking of amusement, he was truly puzzled the first time he got to know you. how were you so mellow? so mellow to the point you seemed like you'd shatter at the touch of his cold porcelain hands.

he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt this protective of you, perhaps even from yourself.  

and now, maybe he finally realized why having a precious fragile human like you cry over his past life story like it was your own brought this warm cozy sensation in his chest. he stayed quiet, silently gazing at you with his chin resting on his hand. 

“...are you done yet?” he felt himself cringe at his usual rough tone, he found it incredibly difficult to not sound like this. fortunately, you seemed to be slowly calming down. but not fast enough to his liking. 

that’s it.

with a deep sigh, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your figure towards his own in one swift motion. for such a slender body, he truly had incredible strength, you had to give him that. 

“what-” your eyes shot open, your sniffling dying down in one quick second from shock.

“humans, especially crybaby ones like you tend to find comfort in physical contact, correct? then so be it. find comfort in me.” rely on me, need me like i need you- he wanted to say but lacked the courage to. he truly had no other way he could word his feelings, but you saw the genuine concern hidden behind his ethereal lavender eyes. he’d never do this with anyone else, not even if the sun arose in the west and set in the east. you were both aware. his grand violet eyes still shone in high honor and pride, yet you felt his hand shiver ever so lightly around you. 

is he nervous? you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. 

you stopped gawking at him, and allowed yourself to relax against his chest, burying your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. it was strange indeed- the amount of comfort you found in his embrace. his body wasn’t that warm, you imagined it might be cold to cuddle with him on winter nights. but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to spend eternity embraced by his hands. 

your dear wanderer. you snuggled closer in a protective manner, even going as far as to snake your arms around his thin waist. the wanderer’s brows furrowed slightly to your actions, a highly unnecessary and bothersome pink flush dusting his normally pale cheeks. damn you and your gentle touches, always making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

speaking of warm and fuzzy, you were too. he absentmindedly tightened his arms around you, just to feel your body push against his closer. letting out a small sigh of relief, wanderer stared up at the night sky. to think that he would be the one ended up comforted by an embrace, instead of his original intentions. as much as he refused to admit out loud, he truly could get used to this, relaxing and feeling the serenity of the eternal midnight with you wrapped up in his hands. 

neither of you spoke a word. he hugged you to calm you down from your crying, and it looked like he succeeded from the absence of your sniffling and sobbing. yet still, neither of you spoke a word, too busy tangled up in one another’s bodies.

here’s a preview of the model cyno x fashion designer reader fic i’m currently writing (it was @valeriesteashop ‘s lovely idea!!)

the wc is currently 10.5k (yes a longggg standalone fic..) and i’ve still got a couple small bits left to write but expect this sometime soon! these are a few extracts/scenes from the fic, you might have seen some of these from the rbs on valerie’s post (this is taking forever but bear with me 😭).

p.s i am so sorry if you’ve seen this before this is a repost, i’ve had problems with my previous side blogs being hidden and i have no idea why lol common tumblr problems ig. hoping this will actually stay up😭

cw for mild mild suggestiveness after the second // ?? it’s barely there but just in case

waking up at first light was habitual to him, as were the gentle, firm kisses he pressed to your back of your shoulders and the crook of your neck, his mouth meeting your skin with the tenderness of someone who wished to wake their sleeping lover kindly, delicately, and gently, with fragments of his boundless love left with each small parting of his lips against your soft skin. because for you, he would’ve hated to abruptly shatter whatever peaceful state you’d been in as you slept. moments like these felt awfully domestic to him, though a small part of him, as young and unconcerned with lovey-dovey familial matters as he was, was grateful that in you there was a home for him. his lips curved into a smile as you’d been roused from your sleep, but you buried your face back into your pillows as you hummed, exasperated by the early start to the day he’d been trying to get you up to.

//

thick skin was needed for both designers and models alike, with the former being criticized for a lack or an abundance in creativity, for harsh critics would find flaws in any and everything regardless of how passionate a designer was in their work. and for the latter, their looks would be the focal point and many models had succumbed to the insecurities created by cruel words, leaving the industry to pursue work that would hopefully be kinder to them. even cyno couldn’t say he’d never felt the same way they did. it was a difficult profession you worked in, and he admired your creativity and desire to express, even though you withstood the blunt remarks and unkind feedback. you had a passion, one that burned and fueled your desire to have your art in the world, for it to be appreciated, recognized, coveted, yet it was contradictory to the fact that you didn’t wish to make your devotion into a business.

//

when he looks back around the time when he first met you, and everything that had transpired as a result of the tentative smile he’d given you. he knew that when you made your first advance, it had just been a fleeting moment of your curiosity getting the better of you, and that you had no particular reason for why you started what occurred that day. he thought that for certain, he had fallen harder and had also been the one to fall first. at first, the idea of it was just about ridiculous to him, leaving him frustrated and questioning what possibly could’ve compelled him to feel this way. it was only something simple and meaningless to you. you were just testing the waters, dipping your foot in experimentally and at the time he couldn’t help it, he all but fell in. probably with a tremendous splash too, metaphorically.

he still remembers the first time you touched him with surprising clarity. he’d been alone with you in the little studio where you worked, draping various fabrics across his chest, gauging which color would best fit his bronze skin. the golden light of the lamp in the corner lit a shadow across the room, illuminating your relaxed expression and the easy smile you gave him. he had you in close proximity to him, wanting to reach out and hold you to him, but never doing so in fear of overstepping your boundaries and the myriad of thoughts you had been puzzling out intently. then you trailed a finger across his skin, dragging along the defined planes of his face, admiring him as though he was so unimaginably beautiful that you could not take your eyes off him. and to you, that he was, your eyes never leaving his until you shifted your hand to cup his jaw, leaning in to brush your lips against his as eyelids fluttered shut and gentle exhales resounded in the little space between you. you were daring, with the way you kissed him again, parting your lips ever so slightly, an invitation to him. that which he gladly took, and he kissed you deeply that night in the dim light of your studio. he burned with longing, felt it as clear as day even with you right in front of him, and held you closer and closer to him, his body warm and flush against yours.

//

and he thought he would’ve reminisced over past teenage romances with you the whole night, if he could’ve.

“were you madly in love then?”

you grinned mischievously, before turning on your side to watch his expression. “yeah. i was.”

he smiled, reaching up to pinch your nose as you faked an exaggerated frown. “bullshit. you’re just trying to make me jealous.”

you cracked up as you flopped back onto the grass and laid down with a sigh. “you know, i wish it’d been you.”

“me?”

“yeah. i wish i’d met you before, all those years ago.”

“me too. it should’ve been you.”

you smiled, and simply rested your head on his shoulder. he reciprocated, leaning against you and feeling at peace with the silent joy that accompanied the fuzzy warmth he felt in his rapidly beating heart.