#tempestial

"So... that's it? You just accept what Jingliu told you as the whole truth?"

Another rare interlude in these agonizing hours when the Astral Express was crossing paths with the Stellaron Hunters more and more. As Himeko saw it, the need to make nice and be diplomatic would become more and more inevitable. Hence this... Meeting was too generous. Chaperoned encounter seemed like a better word for it. Firefly and Kafka happily busied themselves with Stelle, Silver Wolf made a beeline for the Archives when she wasn't preoccupied with a game, and Dan Heng was with... Ren. Overseen by Welt who promised molecular destruction via the Star of Eden, but if Ren knew he'd probably jump at the chance to antagonize the Herrscher.

So came Dan Heng's attempts at nailing the truth into his skull.

@tempestial

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭   𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬   𝐨𝐧   𝐚   𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐧   𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞   past   the   gauze   of   heavy   curtains,   rustling   the   balmy   air   with   an   ever   present   scent   of   plum   blossoms.   baited   breaths   have   quieted   to   steady   pulses,   the   ardor   of   their   coupling   having   ebbed   to   a   warm   -   quiet   afterglow,   and   for   once...   for   once,   his   mind   is   quiet.   his   body   is   wreathed   in   the   warm   tides   of   comfort   -   the   tangle   of   their   limbs   and   the   proximity   of   the   scion's   form,   spent   through   the   blade's   attentions,   has   him   ebbed   in   the   tides   of   pleasures.   he   does   not   yearn   for   destruction,   he   does   not   ache   to   die.   it   reminds   him   so   clearly   of   times   spent   coiled   in   bed   with   his   beloved,   a   tail   wrapped   about   his   frame   and   yinyue   pressed   to   his   chest.   now,   the   man   that   lays   half   on   him   is   slighter   in   frame,   but   no   less   stunning   -   no   less   divine.   ying   xing,   inside   of   him,   knows   him   to   be   that   ethereal   king,   the   moon   situated   so   firmly   in   the   sky   of   his   stars.   

why,   the   mara   is   quiet   now,   he   does   not   know   -   but   blade   will   not   question   it,   the   clear   headedness.

he   stares   at   the   wrought   ceiling,   tracing   the   filigreed   patterns   of   doves   amongst   the   branches   of   ginkgo   with   his   mind's   eye.   it's   only   the   vidyadhara's   stirring   that   lulls   his   attention.   comfort   continues   to   pull   at   the   stellaron   hunter's   limbs,   but   he   remains   motionless,   save   for   the   absent-minded   caress   of   fingertips   upon   the   small   of   the   other's   back.   docile:   that   was   the   only   word   to   explain   it.   like   a   beast   that   had   been   calmed,   blade   lay   satiated   against   the   archivist   with   little   more   than   a   lazy   blink   to   give   away   his   wakefulness.   

turning   his   head   ever   so   slightly,   a   shapely   nose   bumps   lightly   against   the   other's   temple,   followed   by   the   whisper   of   lips.   a   kiss,   perhaps   -   or   simply   the   movement   of   his   head   upon   the   pillow.   it's   hard   to   say.   it   seems   he   is   close   to   saying   something   -   something,   perhaps,   wistful   and   longing,   but   instead   settles   upon   a   sigh,   long   dark   lashes   fluttering   over   his   beautiful   features.   whatever   had   been   on   blade's   tongue,   instead   is   murmured   forth   as   a   comfortable   -   placated:   "   mm.   "   why   he   felt   so   decent   in   that   moment   is   beyond   him,   but   he   chooses   not   to   question   it   -   only   sponge   up   the   likely   source   of   his   painlessness:   one   vidyadhara   high   elder,   unlocked   with   the   force   of   his   violence   love.

" Dan Heng, look over heeeere~ ! " 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 March 7th reverberates across the archivist's serene cabin within the Express, trying to capture the perfect angle of his visage for an upcoming project of hers. One would perhaps call it ill-timing, but she was 101% sure he wouldn't mind.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃. Where would she go anyway? As far as she knew there was no 'home' to find. No distant planet with a family waiting anxiously for the return of a girl. It unnerved her sometimes, to think about that emptiness in her head where memories should have been but never, or perhaps no longer, existed.

Did March ever feel this way?

The Astral Express was her home now. She couldn't leave, even if she wanted to. Maybe, at the end of the day, the Express was just a runaway train carrying its occupants far away from things they were too afraid to face. And yet she wondered.

Dan Heng was stubborn, and his mind was hard to change. For the centuries spent in prison with little interaction with others, for the longest time, he didn't understand the complexities of emotion. But, he could understand logic and reason, and when it came to a certain swordsman, the algebra of their relationship should've been straightforward. After the Sedition, Ren had encountered a version of Dan Feng that had personally destroyed him. After that, Jingliu found him and destroyed his mind, imprinting his vendetta that would eventually involve Dan Heng himself. And finally, after his exile, Ren had hunted him down with the force of pure hatred and rage. And now, when a semblance of clarity had finally found him, the natural conclusion was that Ren would grow indifferent and want nothing to do with him.

The first attempt was when Ren had demanded Cloud-Piercer back, and Dan Heng had willingly been willing to hand it over, but it had been rejected. It was a muddied success, but one nonetheless as Ren had relinquished his earring at Scalegorge Waterscape. And it was time to make the next move.

@tempestial: no, no, no, not now ! another unfortunate encounter, another path of destruction in it’s wake. having followed dan heng into a long abandoned building ; glass cracked and shattered with the force of their wind, long scion’s clumsy footsteps, stumbling him through most of the fight, cloud piercer sluggish with its weight and the flush of his body wearing him down. he knew this song and dance like the back of his hand, the moment the mara struck and blade’s silent contempt became loud and copious. more often than not, he was unable to be reasoned with ( or seduced into their usual trysts, ) but for the first time in years he contemplated begging to be let go, to resume their match at a different time. just as words lay ready to fall from panting tongue, a well timed shove sent the lancer into a rotting table, head banging a little too hard upon the wood as it screeched against the wall. it was a long enough distraction to be caught up with, pinned with blade’s thigh between his legs and the heady scent of iron and spider lilies to flood his senses. hands would raise to grip blade’s shoulder as he neared, but, unsure quite yet whether he wanted him to back away or pull him closer. dan heng’s eyes dilated, unable to focus properly, soft lips parted, panting while he waited for the hunter to respond. around them the faint scent of lotus and petrichor fell about them like a dense fog.

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐢𝐭'𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞   𝐨𝐟   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝   𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩-𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭   that   he'd   chased   him,   a   dog   with   the   scent   of   blood   in   it's   mouth   -   a   predator   ever   pursuant   of   wounded   prey.   the   stars   are   exceptionally   bright   tonight,   the   breeze   ethereal   and   balmy.   auspicious   lights   hang   heavy   in   the   sky   -   eight   round   globes,   full   and   bright   and   heavy   in   the   dark   sky,   beautiful   despite   their   surroundings.   the   xianzhou   luofu   is   a   massive   ship   -   one   that   has   seen   many   wars,   many   battles,   and   lofty   as   they   may   be   -   even   it   is   not   immune   to   the   scars   of   time,   so   reflected   in   the   over   grown,   dilapidated   building   that   the   sinner   had   sought   refuge   inside.   it   was   no   matter,   of   course.   the   mara   sang   in   his   blood   -   dan   heng's   scent   heavy   in   his   nostrils.   (   why   was   he   running?   why   was   he   always   running?   were   they   back   here   again?   )   there   was   no   escaping   the   blade,   no   escaping   the   death   that   sang   for   his   beloved,   a   siren's   call   to   plunge   his   sword   through   pliant   flesh   again   and   again...

ㅤㅤㅤhis   sanity   rattled   it's   cage.   he   was   missing   something   here.   forgetting   something   important.   look   up!   his   mind   seemed   to   say,   before   swift   feet   carried   him   into   the   building.   the   blade   ignored   such   thoughts,   of   course   -   instead,   he   let   his   sword   drag   upon   cobbled   stone,   lips   parting   to   reveal   too   white   teeth   while   crimson   eyes   burnished   red   in   the   dark.   wind   -   it   licked   between   them,   giving   away   dan   heng's   position   without   a   momentary   hesitation,   and   the   blade   was   on   him   in   an   instant.   ❝   nowhere   to   run!   ❞   he   sounds   almost   gleeful,   madness   permeating   the   edges   of   his   vision   as   glass   shatters   about   him,   as   his   hulking   frame   moves   with   the   fluidity   that   had   earned   him   a   place   at   the   side   of   four   powerful   immortals.   there   is   satisfaction   in   dan   heng's   pain,   satisfaction   as   he   slips   between   svelte   legs,   looming   over   him   with   sword   in   hand.   the   mara   wants,   and   wants,   and   wants   -   how   should   he   kill   him   this   time?   his   neck   was   nigh   on   bare   -   perhaps   his   fingers?   perhaps   he   could   watch   the   life   fade   that   way,   but   the   mara   did   so   enjoy   spilled   blood.   choices,   choices-

ㅤㅤㅤthe   blade   pauses.   

ㅤㅤㅤa   blink   befalls   those   candlelit   eyes,   frown   suddenly   pulling   over   his   features.   he   stares   down   at   dan   heng's   flushed   countenance,   pressing   close   and   neat   to   his   frame   -   so   much   like   a   lover,   so   much   like   he   used   to.   and   it   felt   such   a   way   too,   when   the   muscle   of   his   thigh   rubbed   against   something   hard   between   them,   and   when   that   keen,   keen   gaze   -   even   under   the   influence   of   the   mara   -   became   privy   to   the   coil   of   dragon's   smoke   that   furls   about   the   man   who   wears   the   face   of   his   former   beloved   and   has   begun   to   haunt   his   dreams   as   dan   heng   himself,   and   not   dan   feng.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   oh.   ❞   he   intonates   throatily,   wildness   edging   between   the   mara,   blade,   and   the   vague   remnants   of   yingxing   that   haunted   his   flesh.   ❝   oh,   you-   ❞   down,   he   leans,   sword   stabbing   into   rotting   wood   near   the   vidyadhara's   head      as   blade   sniffs,   as   he   drinks   in   the   scent   that   he   had   grown   so   accustomed   to,   that   had   helped   edge   away   his   madness,   he   lets   a   smirk   dart   across   handsome   features.   ❝   you're   moonstruck.   ❞   he   has   to   laugh.   of   course   he   does.   it's   bitter,   it's   deep,   and   it's   downright   patronizing,   especially   when   his   hands   move   to   furiously   grip   thin   hips,   and   slide   dan   heng's   body   along   the   warmth   of   his   strong   thigh.   ❝   you   fool,   did   you   not   pay   attention   to   the   signs?   ❞   perhaps   this   -   perhaps   humiliating   the   body   below   him   in   new   yet   utterly   familiar   ways   was   even   better   than   allowing   the   mara   to   run   rampant   and   drain   the   life   from   him.   ❝   poor   sanctimonious   vidyadhara.   what   a   predicament   you've   gotten   yourself   into.   ❞

ㅤㅤㅤwho   is   speaking   now?   it's   hard   to   tell,   especially   as   he   leans   downwards,   the   warmth   of   his   lips   nearing   the   shell   of   dan   heng's   ear,   and   groans   -   low   and   throaty.   ❝   what   to   do,   now   that   i   have   you   like   this,   moon   drinker?   ❞

@tempestial: " a-xing ! such a serious allegation !! " dragon king could barely restrain laughter behind the dripping sleeves of his robes, even soaked and cold like this the joyous nature behind his words was undeniable. " don't you deserve some of the blame ? i told you not to distract me - " though they did walk swiftly to yinyue's palace chambers, careful to avoid getting caught by the cloudknight patrol, dragon sovereign was languid about it, merriment in his steps, one arm wound 'round his beloved like he'd been welded there. he was flushed in the cheeks, scales and eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. and if he tripped occasionally it was not entirely due to the rice wine, but gaze lingering far too long upon yingxing's handsome features. even wet, his hair shone like the stars. " i have no ulterior motives ! it's rather treasonous to be accusing this of a high elder, y'know - " he's warm, and bubbly, twitterpated like a lovestruck adolescent. oh the temptation to stop here and press kiss - bruised lips to the artisan's once more, if only that hadn't been what got them into this mess. " i've only - oh, i think i hear someone coming - "

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐢𝐭   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡   𝐨𝐧   𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞   𝐭𝐨   𝐧𝐨𝐭   experience   joy   in   the   dragon   king's   presence   -   nigh   on   impossible   to   not   allow   himself   the   privilege   of   blooming   ardor   in   his   veins.   every   moonlight   stroll   was   a   new   adventure,   every   night   spent   beneath   the   sheets   a   holy   experience   for   the   mortal   man.   yinyue   was   everything   to   him,   had   quickly   become   everything   to   him,   and   though   decorum   and   decree   demanded   they   be   kept   apart   -   it   was   hard   for   the   artisan   to   resist   his   beloved's   pull,   and   harder   still   to   ever   utter   no   to   that   beautiful,   near   god-like   face.   which   is   why   he   often   found   himself   subject   to   the   sovereign's   whims...   like   water   walking.   

ㅤㅤㅤand   very   romantic,   it   was,   striding   onto   lakes   with   his   lover,   hand   in   hand   beneath   the   moon.   it   was   especially   romantic   when   ying   xing   could   not   resist   the   pull   of   his   body,   collecting   that   strong   frame   to   his   broad   chest   and   swooping   down   to   claim   silken   tiers   against   his   own.   he   supposes   it   was   somewhat   his   fault.   his   hands   had   gotten   a   bit   greedy,   and   his   tongue   and   teeth   adventurous   -   but   still!   to   be   dropped   in   the   water   not   unlike   a   floundering   fish...   the   look   he   had   given   his   beloved   had   been   scathing.   

ㅤㅤㅤyet   joy   bloomed   upon   his   beautiful   features,   a   smile   tugging   at   swollen   lips   and   his   arm   wrapped   carefully   about   the   elder's   dripping   visage   as   they   roamed   the   halls.      ❝   i   did   nothing   wrong!   ❞      he   reasons,   sweet   voice   silky   in   the   moonlight   hour   as   they   turned   down   the   coral   lined   corridor.      ❝   all   i   wanted   was   to   kiss   you.   it's   hardly   my   fault   you   couldn't   focus   through   that.   ❞      teasing,   gentle   words,   punctuated   by   the   dip   of   calloused   digits   along   the   bare   nature   of   yinyue's   spine,   nails   scratching   just   slightly.      ❝   and   anyways   -   i   think   you   simply   wanted   an   excuse   to   get   me   wet.   as   for   treason,   well...   ❞      his   stare   is   pointed.   need   he   say   more?

ㅤㅤㅤyet   the   alert   spurs   him   forward,   as   he   trusts   his   beloved's   draconic   senses   more   than   his   own.   ying   xing   darts   forth,   strong   arm   collecting   about   the   other's   waist   and   with   a   careful   yank   -   he   tugs   him   into   the   nearby   shadowed   alcove.   it's   a   tight   fit   -   because   of   course   it   is   -   but   the   artisan   does   not   mind,   not   as   their   bodies   press   flush,   and   a   hand   darts   down,   grabbing   the   high   elder's   tail   to   bring   it   close   to   them   in   an   effort   to   keep   the   luminescent   scales   out   of   sight.   he   hears   it   now   -   the   hurried   footsteps   and   rushed   voices,   precursors   most   likely   searching   for   their   wayward   sovereign   but...   

ㅤㅤㅤying   xing   can't   help   it.   he   grins,   peering   down   at   the   man   he   is   pressed   flush   against   with   no   small   amount   of   amusement.      ❝   did   you   sneak   out   of   studies   to   spend   time   with   me   again,   qīn   ài   de?   ❞      but   he   did   not   mind...   especially   not   as   he   realizes   with   no   small   amount   of   clarity,   that   both   of   them   are   dripping   wet,   hard   nubs   upon   each   chest   pressed   against   thin   fabrics...   and   well.   ying   xing   can't   help   the   way   his   mouth   goes   dry,   the   way   his   amber   gaze   darts   back   towards   the   vidyadhara's   lips   and   the   way   his   tongue   drags   over   his   own,   hungry...   inviting.   a   moment   passes,   footsteps   fading   into   the   distance,   but   ying   xing   does   not   move   away.   no,   instead...   he   lowers   his   head,   eyes   lidding,   and   hums   ever   so   softly   as   their   lips   near   one   another.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   you   are   such   trouble.   ❞      he   breathes,   with   all   the   love   in   his   heart,   and   seals   their   lips   together   in   a   slow,   unhurried   kiss   that   echoes   his   groan   of   his   beloved's   delicate   taste.   

@tempestial: " i'm. not. him. "

𝐇𝐎𝐖   𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘   𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒   𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄   they   been   here?   the   mind   does   not   remember,   but   the   soul   does   -   the   heart   does.   it   remembers   well,   each   instance   of   spilled   blood,   each   severance   of   life   for   a   fleeting   moment,   each   time   cloud   piercer   had   found   him,   biting   into   the   depths   of   his   flesh   and   yes,   yes,   yes...   the   blissful   agony   of   what   could   only   be   encroaching   darkness,   could   only   be   the   pull   of   the   heavens,   a   sweet   tide   of   the   rites   he   begs   for,   time,   and   time,   and   time   again...   sweet   release.   sweet   silence.   the   madness   quelled,   the   pain   satiated,   and   the   beast   put   to   bed.   each   time,   he   wonders,   perhaps   he   will   get   lucky   and   not   wake...   each   time,   he   is   wrong.   

it's   madness   that   possesses   him,   a   once   tranquil   gaze   lit   with   the   fortitudes   of   his   blood   lust,   a   hunger   that   courses   through   him,   stains   bloody   bandages   and   blooms   those   cursed   mara-struck   spider   lilies   at   his   feet.   he   bares   his   teeth   for   the   being   before   him   -   peers   into   those   steel   jade   eyes   with   nothing   but   ravenous   want   to   take.   him.   apart.   a   low   laugh   rumbles   deep   within   the   hunter's   throat   as   he   prowls   about,   the   powerful   roll   of   shoulders   not   ceasing   even   as   crimson   drips   in   steady   beats   upon   the   floor   between   them.   haunting   -   he   is   haunting,   a   shell   of   the   craftsman   who   had   once   gifted   yinyue-jun   the   most   beautiful   of   trinkets,   had   reveled   at   his   feet   with   ardor   and   bliss.   now?   there   is   only   loathing.   

"   liar   !   "   he   snaps,   a   bandaged   hand   surging   forth,   gripping   a   delicate   chin   betwixt   rough   linen,   hauling   their   features   to   clear   proximity   once   more.   the   same   shapely,   beautiful   bones,   the   same   long   eyelashes,   heart-shaped   lips,   dark,   silky   hair,   pale   and   cut-hungry   skin...   and   those   eyes.   "   i   can   see   it.   "   seethes   the   mara,   poison   that   rolls   off   him   in   waves   of   want   for   his   desires.   "   i   can   see   it   in   your   cruel,   cold   eyes.   no   one   else   has   eyes   like   that,   yinyue-jun.   "   he   practically   tosses   dan   heng   away   from   him   then,   slinking   a   few   steps   backwards   to   readjust   the   grip   of   his   sword,   that   mad,   hungry   smile   seeping   into   his   wounds,   enticing   his   rage   to   flow   forth   like   a   broken   dam...   the   mara,   always   the   mara.   oh   it   heart   so   bad   good.   "   get   up.   "   he   spits,   hateful   and   full   of   love   all   the   same,   "   get   up   and   face   your   retribution.   "