Hsr Dan Heng - Tumblr Posts
Chasing Tail
Have a little something I worked on during a long break during work. Could not get the thought of doing inappropriate things with dhil's tail. Hope you enjoy :D
cw. smut, hand job, dry humping, female reader, implied chubby reader
"Oh Dan Heng~" you cooed softly.
You received a lazy grunt in reply as Dan Heng nuzzled his face further into the comforting confines of his pillow, his cheek squished into the fluffy material. His response did little to deter you as you huddled closer to him, the tips of your fingers trailing along the notches of his spine as you swept his long hair away from his bare skin. A contented hum bubbled up Dan Heng's throat as pleasant tingles raced along his back from the ticklish feeling of your fingertips curling around his soft locks of hair. He subtly presses himself back into your alluring warmth, the blankets hanging loosely around his hips as he shifted. His slender, serpentine tail was wedged between your plump thighs, the cool scales warmed by your skin as the feathers of his tail puffed up in sordid content.
Heat tickled the base of his spine as you continued to paw at his body, pushing your chest against his back and letting him feel the pillowy soft comfort of your supple tits. Your hands slipped around his slender waist, the warm palms cupping his chest and abdomen as your fingers danced along his skin. You pressed your lips to the shell of his pointed ear, a soft puff of air breezing past your lips as you watched the skin flush a beautiful shade of red. Your dragon shivered against you; his soft moans muffled into the pillow as his sharp talons clawed at the bedsheets beneath him.
"Rise and shine" you chimed.
You pressed your lips to his ear, tongue darting out to taste his skin as another groan stirred in Dan Heng’s throat. His tail trapped between your thighs started to twitch, the scales ghosting along the wet seam of your dripping cunt as your hips started to sway, playfully bumping into his rump. Your fingers walked along his stomach as a soft sigh fell from his lips, eyes just barely cracking open as long, dark lashes fluttered along his warm cheeks.
"You're in a playful mood this morning" Dan Heng noted, the edges of his voice tinted with a rasp.
You hummed in agreement as you rubbed your hands along his belly, the muscles jumping under the press of your palms as you smoothed them across his searing flesh.
"Why wouldn't I be?" you replied, hooking your chin over his shoulder. "After all, I'm waking up next to the most beautiful dragon I've ever seen."
Your words made his skin flush a bright shade, his breath stuttering as the tips of his fingers twitched between the sheets. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shuddering moan as your hand brushed along the growing bulge in his pants. His draconic cocks twitched as the soft fabric of his pyjamas brushed along the sensitive skin, his arousal flushing to life as the tips of his cocks started to weep with pre-cum. The tail stuffed between your plump thighs started to wriggle, your arousal dribbling onto the smooth scales as your hungry pussy drooled, your hole clenching around nothing in anticipation. Dan Heng swallowed the budding saliva on his tongue with an audible gulp, throat bobbing as the hairs on the nape of his neck stood up. Pleasant shivers continued to wrack his spine as you grind your pussy along the thickest part of his tail, your arousal coating the soft scales as it webbed between the insides of your shaking thighs. Your moans were like cloyingly sweet honey as you breathed in his ear, his cocks twitching and aching in the confines of his pants as you continued to rub them over the fabric as your other hand playfully dipped below the waistband and toyed with the elastic. Your name warmed his parched throat as he rolled it around his mouth, tongue peeking between the seam of his lips and letting drool pool around the bruised skin as a hot knot twisted low in his belly.
"Hmm Dan Heng, you're already so big for me" you moaned, voice bordering on a whine.
The cant of your hips remained slow and steady despite the simmering heat filling your veins, the hot coil in your stomach twisting tighter as his tail slid between your creamy folds. You shivered, soused lashes fluttering over your burning cheeks as you grind the aching nub of your clit into the thickest part of his tail. The pearl sitting pretty at the top of your pussy kicked weakly as tufts of fur tickled the exposed nerve, adding more fuel to the violent inferno knotting in the pit of your belly. Dan Heng's fingers twisted in the sheets, sharp nails threatening to rip holes in the fabric as you rubbed your sumptuous body against him, the sweet smell of your arousal curling in his lungs and lingering in the back of his throat every time he swallowed. His fangs gnashed together as you rubbed your hand over his cocks harder, fingers curling and pumping along the shaft as he started to twitch from his encroaching orgasm. Dan Heng's tail start to curl around your leg, the feathery tip brushing along your ankle as it coiled like a snake around your supple skin. Your name fell from his spit-soaked lips in a soft moan, stars swirling in his vision as he fought to peel his tongue off the roof of his mouth.
"Love…I'm close…"
You almost didn't hear him over the sound of your pulse droning loudly in your ears as your heart was ready to leap out of your throat. You hummed softly; mind dizzy with bliss as you buried your face in the crook of Dan Heng's neck. His pulse jumped under the gentle press of your mouth, blood boiling in his veins as he teetered just on the edge. The roll of your hips lost its rhythm as your body also danced on the crumbling precipice, thighs squeezing around his tail as you desperately hummed the appendage for more sparks of friction.
"It's okay baby" you crooned. "Just let go for me."
Dan Heng groaned hotly as his hips jolted, his cocks swelling and throbbing against the palm of your hand as he came undone. His horns glowed with light for few, brief seconds, bathing your skin in an ethereal glow as he pawed at the sheets like a needy cat. His cocks kicked and released sticky loads that ruined the fabric of his pants, small rivets of cum leaking down his shaky thighs and pooling on the sheets below. Dan Heng's tail tensed beneath you as your wet pussy slipped along the scales, the coil in your stomach shattering when you pressed the nub of your clit into the hard muscle. A sultry whine of his name bubbled up your throat as you came undone, white-hot relief flooding your veins and sending electric shocks to race along the curve of your spine. You continued to mewl as you lazily rutted your hips, prolonging your own pleasure as you teased your fingers below the waistband of Dan Heng's pants. His hand shot out behind him as he grabbed the back of head, soft tresses of hair slipping through his fingers and spilling over his shoulders as he yanked your head from the hiding spot of his neck. You moaned in surprise as he turned his head and caught your lips in a searing kiss, tongue pushing past the seam of your bruised lips and tangling with your own. He swallowed your hot moans and whines as he sucked on your tongue, lapping at the sticky sweet saliva clinging to the corners of your mouth as he rutted his hips into the touch of your hand.
Dan Heng parted from your lips with an audible pop, a thin strand of saliva connecting your lips breaking when he suddenly decided to flip your positions. Your head was sent into a tizzy as your world was sent spinning, a disgruntled noise bubbling in your chest as your back hit the mattress with a dull thump. You stared up at Dan Heng in a daze, his long tail flicking behind him with a mesmerising sway as he hovered over you. Your legs were promptly pushed up to your chest, his hands pressed firm against the bend in your knees as he almost folded you in half. Your wet sex opened up like a delicate flower in bloom, the soft petals dripping with sweet, translucent nectar that shimmered like morning dew. Dan Heng licked his lips in anticipation, his nose twitching as your scent clouded his senses in a dizzying spell. He hummed softly, the sound making your toes curl into the soles of your feet as his head dipped lower. You felt his warm breath ghost across your puffy pussy, prompting more slick to dribble from your core as you shivered in anticipation. Dan Heng’s gaze flickered back up to your face, his forked tongue snaking from between his lips for a brief second.
"You wouldn’t mind if I indulged in a taste?"
DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS
What were they researching
big noodle smol noodle
drawing Imbibitor Lunae (🌙Dan Feng & 🍁Dan Heng) everyday part 70
putting them in my pocket (and eats them)
Honkai Star Rail Babygirl Polls: Round 2
Honkai Star Rail Babygirl Polls: Round 3
(The two with the most votes will move on)
Honkai Star Rail Babygirl Polls: Round 4
Honkai: Star Rail Babygirl Polls FINAL Round!
Portraits
Retouched this set from last year, because it was haunting me laying there 80% finished
ART OF THE BEDCHAMBER | part 1
"Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form." Dan Heng stares at your fingers, deliberates as you trace the invisible paths of his meridians. "Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?" (Or: Dan Heng dreads the thought of outliving you and will do anything to help you achieve immortality. If that means fucking you in his dragon form, then so be it.)
6.5k words. smut, fluff, established relationship, xianxia elements. semi-explicit sexual content (only with dan heng in his human form in this chapter, sorry). reader is gender neutral, afab — they have breasts and bomb pussy game. cultural notes: "yinyue jun" is the chinese equivalent for "imbibitor lunae". please see the end notes for information on cultivation. other notes: this is set pre-1.2. 风月 was based on this fic so some things may feel very familiar! network: @trailblazernet. MDNI.
When Dan Heng—in a rather unexpected move—fell in love with you, he didn’t foresee all the agony that would come with it.
Shockingly, you aren’t the direct cause of this agony: a remarkable fact, given your routine of pestering him for as many hours as the day will allow. Dan Heng often complains about your many inconvenient behaviours (e.g., trying to cuddle with him in the archives, trying to kiss him in the archives, trying to have sex with him in the archives), but to the amazement of his fellow trailblazers, he never actually does anything about it. After getting over his initial embarrassment at such public displays of affection (this took quite some time), he’s come to tolerate it.
You often like to tease him for his leniency, all playful smiles and lilting tones: You don’t have to act so shy, Dan Heng—I know you enjoy the attention. My Heng'er likes to be spoiled, huh?
He always rolls his eyes in response. Consider it a miracle that I haven’t kicked you out yet, he’ll usually say, flicking you on the forehead. He never tells you if he means kicking you out of the archives or if he means throwing you out of the Astral Express itself, right into the vacuum of space. (Most bystanders are astonished that the latter hasn’t happened yet. So are you.)
He also doesn’t tell you how wrong it feels when he isn’t listening to the background noise of your shameless flirting. Or how wrong it feels when he doesn’t get to humour you with a kiss every once in a while.
Which brings him to the root of the problem: the wrongness that he’s feeling right now. The emptiness of the archives without your laughter, the tasteless quality of his food when you’re not there to dine with him, the restlessness of trying to sleep without you—it’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong enough for it to be a little agonizing, now that he’s nearing one hundred and twenty days of this.
You often have to leave the Express for many months in a row, so Dan Heng is no stranger to these unsettling feelings. Neither are you. If I could spend more time with you, I would, you’d said before leaving last time—and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that. But I can’t avoid going into seclusion. It’s part of the whole Cultivator gig, y'know—gotta go to a mountain somewhere and meditate for a few months. That’s just the price of immortality if you’re a measly human. Then you’d given him a little smile, pecked him on the lips. Most people do it for years at a time, but I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone for so long.
The first time you’d pointed this out, Dan Heng was startled by the relief that flooded him. Vidyadharas have an intuitively different sense of time compared to human beings, and two or three years should feel like nothing to him: relative to the centuries he’d lived as his previous incarnation—or the decades as his current one—it would be only a fleeting moment.
But in your absence, it would feel like an eternity.
It surprises him how much he hates the crawl of time without you. Dan Heng had never before been a needy person: solitude and isolation had always been the norm for him, in a lifetime absent of human touch—first imprisoned from birth, then exiled from the first moment he got to see the sun. Even after leaving the Alliance, he hadn’t allowed himself to become particularly close with anyone: it would have been too complicated because of the sensitive matter of his past, and he simply didn’t feel deserving of it anyway. Nor was he in need of it.
Then he met you.
Then he met you, and he became accustomed to the sound of your laughter, and then your offhanded, warm touches, and then your smile as you sat in the blue glow of the archive floor and poured baijiu into everyone’s cups. (Scalding, bitter; you had laughed as he made a face and warmed up huangjiu specifically for him next time, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.) And then he became accustomed to talking to you—to letting you unearth things he’d buried for decades, to revealing his suffering and receiving your compassion, to the gentle feeling of your hand on his shoulder. Then the tender, nervous look in your eyes, then the silky press of your lips, then the closeness of your unclothed body, and then the breathless warble of your voice—Dan Heng, I’m close, I’m so close, please—and then the euphoria of having you arch and fall apart so beautifully in his arms.
And then the afterglow. He hadn’t only grown used to that: he’d become addicted to it. Warmer and headier than huangjiu, something that he’d have never been able to imagine while growing up in the night-dark prison of his childhood.
Even the memory of his first taste of sunlight aboard the Luofu pales in comparison to the feeling of having you in his arms. The first time he’d had the privilege of holding you, he caught himself thinking: If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever.
And now, each time he lies awake on his futon, alone except for the glow of artificial stars, Dan Heng becomes acutely aware of the emptiness left by your missing form.
He isn’t exactly deserving of your companionship. He knows that.
But he is in need of it.
After one hundred and twenty one days of seclusion, you are ready to return to the Astral Express.
Time moves differently when you cultivate behind closed doors. The act of such intense meditation and training distorts the flow of the world for you, makes entire months feel like days. Emerging from seclusion always comes with a certain anxiety: Are your friends well? Have they forgotten you? Has the Express continued its journey across the galactic railroad, or has some terrible event happened to your home—a supernova, a meteor shower, the destructive force of a stellaron?
And, most importantly: Did anyone murder your boyfriend while you were away?
There is at least one intergalactically wanted criminal who's tried to kill Dan Heng a number of times, and an entire alliance consisting solely of his haters. Half the reason you take your cultivation so seriously is to prepare for the inevitable day that someone is going to seriously attempt to murder him in front of you (probably the aforementioned criminal). You want to be strong enough to one-hit KO Arbiter-General Jing Yuan himself, if it ever comes down to it.
Of course, the downside is that the murder attempt might happen while you're off training, but you're hoping that March 7th and Caelus can cover for you in that case.
Still—while you have nothing in confidence in Caelus’ abilities (you adore March, but will not comment on hers), you sigh in relief when your phone begins to buzz.
> Are you out yet? We're on our way. > Get something to eat if you haven't yet. I'll make sure something is ready for you on the Express too. > I know you can practice inedia, but you're still a human at the end of the day. Please get something to eat as soon as possible.
No hello, no I missed yous, just plain, practical concern—as always.
You are not a practical person.
> GEGE! > GEGE GEGE GEGE > DAN HENG GEGE > come fast i want to kiss u > i'll die if u don't kiss me soon > i missed you!!!!!! > did you miss me??????
You can more or less imagine the expression on your (hopefully unharmed) boyfriend's face: deadpan exasperation. The first time you came out of seclusion during your relationship, you texted him no less than twenty times in a row from a new number, and he reflexively flagged it all as spam. He's since told you to tone down the double texting (and triple texting, and quintuple texting, and dectuple texting…), but always replies anyway.
> The Express is about to warp. We'll be there soon. > I'll do whatever you like, please just eat.
You watch as an ellipsis appears at the bottom of your chat window, then disappears, then appears again. When he finally sends his text, a smile stretches wide across your face.
> And yes, I thought of you the whole time you were gone.
With your return to the Express, you make Dan Heng engage in all your usual couple activities. Which is to say: you act disgustingly sweet with him and the other passengers experience varying degrees of shock and entertainment at his complacent behaviour.
You surprise him as he works in the archives, looping your arms around his waist and pressing against his back so you can whisper things into his ear: Gege, pay attention to me! or Dan Heng, can't you take a break now? or Heng'er, are you really going to ignore your lover like this? So cruel!
Dan Heng doesn't react during these moments, but he also doesn't push you away. Sometimes he'll shove a stack of books into your hands and say, If you have time to mess around like this, then you can work on digitizing these for me. You always agree, but wheedle a kiss out of him in exchange for your hard labour.
(Welt Yang walks in on one such kiss, coughs loudly, and walks back out. Dan Heng pulls away from your lips to stare at the door in abject horror.)
You give Dan Heng a number of books and films from your travels, and keep him company as he dives into them. He always gravitates toward the latest Xianzhou novels first, especially the ones that give mention to everyday life on the Luofu. You suppose that he's never been able to rid himself of his curiosity about the life that he'd been denied, enthralled by visions of night markets and starskiffs, teahouses and cross-talkers. You can see his longing in the crease of his brow, the softening of his eyes as he reads.
Seeing his wistful expressions, it is impossible to stop yourself from keeping him company. You press into his side, resting your head on his shoulder—something that will comfort him, you hope—and read alongside him. Sometimes the two of you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other on the archive floor.
(March 7th stumbles into one of these moments and can't help but snap a picture of the two of you. Dan Heng later pales when he sees your lock screen, where your slumbering, entwined forms are clearly visible.)
You often convince Dan Heng to have a proper, sit-down dinner with you in the dining car. He won't ever do it for food from the kitchens, preferring to eat in the archives instead, but he'll do it for food you cook together. The two of you enjoy your meals while watching the interstellar scenery roll by outside, stargazing at distant galaxies. Sometimes you savour the tangy-sweetness of tomato-egg stir fry (your handiwork); sometimes you enjoy the rich broth of delicately steamed xiaolongbao (your boyfriend's handiwork); sometimes the both of you sweat over the punishing numbing-spice of malaxiangguo (a combined effort and favoured couple's activity—right up there with building furniture).
The other passengers wave whenever they see you, impressed that Dan Heng has emerged from the archives. They joke as they greet you: I guess you're the only one that can pull him out of his cave!
(The older ones—Himeko especially—laugh and talk fondly about young love when they spot you. Dan Heng's expression stays as stoic as ever, but the tips of his ears go red and he accidentally burns his tongue trying to eat his own bao.)
You address Dan Heng with an astonishing number of pet names at an alarming frequency; your excuse is that you need to make up for the four months you couldn't call him anything. Mostly you call him 'Gege' in public, which he usually doesn't mind as it saves him considerable face relative to all the alternatives, but this changes when Caelus starts teasing him about it.
Morning, Gege, he starts saying at breakfast, drawing a long stare from Dan Heng. Gege, can you help me with finding these records? he asks whenever he strolls into the archives. Before expeditions, he starts turning to Dan Heng and using his most sugary voice: You'll protect me, right, Gege? And Dan Heng turns to Himeko to flatly state, I will not be held responsible if he dies.
Eventually, Caelus grows bold enough to join you both for dinner: Gege, he asks, do you want me to hand-feed you these noodles too?
Dan Heng replies by rising from his seat and walking straight out of the dining car.
(Your long-suffering boyfriend eventually says, during one of your reading sessions, that Caelus is quickly becoming unbearable with this new habit of his.
Well, you muse, since he’s just teasing you about the way I talk to you, I could stop calling you ‘Gege’.
Dan Heng stops. He looks almost hesitant, like he wants to protest, but his expression flattens into a deadpan when you continue: I could always call you 'baobei' instead. What, you don't like that? But Heng'er, you're my baobei, my xingan baobei, my little little apple and beloved husb—whoa!
You laugh hysterically as you dodge the book he chucks at you.)
Sometimes you do get him to reciprocate your actions. Shockingly—despite his reserved and conscientious disposition—you have the greatest success with this whenever you tease him while he's working. You find it works best to crawl into his lap and kiss at his jawline, whispering into his ear while he tries to focus on his screen.
I’m so pent up, Gege, you often start with. I've been trying to take care of myself, but my fingers aren't enough. You like to straddle his hips as you talk, grind a little if you think you can get away with it. You whine if you do, pressing your face into his neck—right beneath his clenched jaw. Won't you give me some attention? Just ten minutes on this desk is all we need.
Dan Heng can only ever endure about fifteen minutes of this before throwing you over his shoulder. You inevitably find yourself being flipped over in a fireman's carry, being lectured in a flat tone. I don't know where you get off lying like that, he usually comments as he makes his way to your room, ignoring your yelping and kicking. 'Ten minutes'? Every time you act like this, you end up taking up my whole evening.
(He does, in fact, spend the rest of his night in bed with you, making it clear that there is no need for you to ‘take care of yourself’ so long as he’s around.)
But despite all the grief you give Dan Heng with your public, grand displays of affection, your favourite moments with him are the private ones. The ones where you sit next to him on his futon, sharing a pair of earbuds and listening to the latest hits from the various worlds to which you’ve travelled. The ones where you make dumpling skins together during the quiet hours of the kitchen, flour dusting your fingers as you roll out the dough that Dan Heng has kneaded. The ones where you spend lazy mornings in bed together, Dan Heng holding you as you talk at length about nothing at all.
The ones where you pause in your long-winded ramble to find him staring at you, his gaze fond and fully attentive. Met with such tenderness, you have no choice but to lean in and kiss him, long and deep and smiling—and in the privacy of your room, your boyfriend is more than happy to return it.
Some weeks after you return to the Express, Dan Heng gives you a long look after one such moment and says, "You should spend more time with me."
You raise a brow. "Eh? I already spend plenty of time with you, Heng'er. I've been bothering you 24/7 now that I'm back on the Express… It's a wonder you aren't sick of me yet."
"Of course I'm not sick of you," he replies plainly. "I could never be."
The admission makes you blink. Heat prickles the back of your neck. It's not often that Dan Heng is so straightforward with his feelings.
"And I mean"—he looks away, the red paint along his waterline hidden by his lashes—"that it'd be nice if you didn't have to leave the Express so often. If you could stay here all year round."
You can't stop yourself from frowning. "You know I don't like leaving you, but I really don't want to compromise my training." Your fingers sweep gently at his brow, brushing away his hair. "I wanna be strong enough to protect you, Gege. After I get to that level, I promise I'll be around more often." Then you smile a little. "And if I'm lucky, I might even get a long life out of it!"
Dan Heng's brow dips. "A 'long life'? The whole point of cultivation is to achieve immortality, isn't it?"
"Sure, in theory. In practice, almost no human ever becomes immortal by these means. If cultivation were so easy, then people wouldn't turn to shortcuts like magical elixirs or blessings from Aeon Yaoshi." You purse your lips, voice starting to colour with derision. "Not that I'd ever be shortsighted enough to chase either of those things, mind you. I'd rather work hard, have a long and healthy life, and die and reincarnate properly if it comes to that. Immortality isn't worth the strife caused by any other method."
Dan Heng studies you closely, his eyes steadfast on yours. "Then… what do you consider a 'long life'?"
You hum, thinking. "If I don't slack off with my training, I have maybe eighty to a hundred years of youth before I kick the bucket."
"Eighty years?" Dan Heng's eyes go a little wide. You aren't used to seeing it.
"Yes?" You shift, fidgeting. "But that's only if I'm lucky. Pushing for anything more would be tough. I could undergo a qi deviation and die… or I might just not be talented enough to reach that stage of cultivation and pass away from natural causes… someone could also just kill me at any time, given my lifestyle. I've got a lot of options for dying, you know."
Dan Heng doesn't reply, nor does he look at you. It occurs to you that this whole conversation might be unsettling for him, given everything that's happened with the Xianzhou Alliance, with the matter of his past life and that vengeful monster he seems unable to kill. The mere thought of immortality must be painful for Dan Heng.
"I'm sorry, Gege," you say. "It's insensitive of me to talk about these things with you. Anyway—I'm not seriously trying to become an immortal, so you don't have to worry about me. I'm not looking to break any taboos."
Your lover gives you a long, unreadable stare before replying, "Right. Of course. Nothing good can come from the pursuit of immortality." Cinnabar paint flickers as he looks away. "Human life should be as morning dew—fleeting and ephemeral."
Dan Heng starts to behave strangely, after that. Quieter and withdrawn. Not just subdued in his affection, but absent in it.
When you bother him in the archives, he no longer scolds you or distracts you with any work—merely continuing with his tasks, completely immersed in them. When March 7th and Caelus tease him about his many pet names, he doesn't get flustered—only rolls his eyes and ignores them. When the other passengers catch sight of the two of you dining together and fondly comment on your relationship, he hardly reacts. He only continues eating, staring absently at his dish—usually something you've made, because he seems uninterested in eating anything else these days.
(Are you sure you don't want actual food from the kitchens instead? you ask once, studying what's supposed to be dough for fried breakfast buns. For whatever reason, you can't get the consistency right. The Express chefs are way better than me, you know.
No, he insists. You made it, so I want to eat it.
You don't need to be so polite!
I'm not being polite. He looks down at your fingers, dusted snow-white with flour. It's just what I want.)
You wrongly assume, for a little bit, that he's somehow lost interest in everything but your cooking. It only feels like the logical conclusion, especially when Dan Heng gets into the habit of ignoring you for most of the day despite your use of every trick in your arsenal—from kissing him to teasing him to begging him for sex. He simply tells you that he'll entertain you later, and is otherwise too deeply absorbed in his work to pay attention to you.
"Is something wrong, Dan Heng?" you eventually ask, voice small. "Is it that you don't feel the same way about me anymore? Do you want to break up?"
Dan Heng goes stock still when he hears this. Without saying a word, he puts down his tablet, locks the door, and kisses you long and hard. And then—for the first time in your relationship—he proceeds to actually fuck you in the archives. He rails you next to the terminal for the better part of an hour, forces an earth-shattering orgasm out of you that ruins the carbon-fibre surface you're laid out on, and then he fills you up to the point that his spend starts trickling down your thigh.
Hazy and fucked out, you wonder idly if it's dripping down onto the phosphorescent tiles below. Dan Heng will probably make a fuss about it, especially since this is technically a public space, and the terminal is its most high-traffic area. He'd have a stroke if anyone ever saw this mess.
When he stands up, you assume that he's getting right to cleaning, like usual. The guy can hardly ever relax.
You don't expect it when he gets onto his knees and puts his head between your thighs.
"Gege?" you say, solidly confused, but before you can ask him what he's doing, you feel the press of his tongue against your dripping entrance and then all you can do is moan.
By the time Dan Heng is done with you, the two of you are messy and breathless, collapsed and tangled up in each other on his makeshift bed.
You stare at the ceiling, mind whirring even in your exhaustion. It had been hard to process the situation while your boyfriend was railing every thought imaginable out of you—but now that he’s finally done, the shock is settling in.
Holy shit, you think, Dan Heng never gets this nasty. Something really is wrong!
You think of broaching the matter, but Dan Heng beats you to it. He turns to you, says, "I don't want to break up," and then gets back on top of you for another round.
You decide to put your foot down.
The next night, you invite Dan Heng into your bedroom. You're all business this time. There's no whining, no teasing, no Heng'er, you don't want to touch me? There are no desperate and indirect plays to get his attention while you simmer in anxiety about what he's hiding from you. (This change is not because of your own strength of mind—of which you have none, when it comes to your boyfriend—but because you're now sure you won't break up, whatever happens.) Instead, you seat him at your table and regard him with a firm expression.
You're careful to keep your voice gentle, but you still don't hesitate: "I know something's been bothering you, Dan Heng. Can we please talk about it?"
Dan Heng is prepared for the question. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you," he says instantly. "It won't happen anymore. I'm very serious about our relationship, and I have no wish for it to end."
You know he's being earnest. After spending the rest of his night fucking you—slow and sweet in your bed, rather than the desperate way he'd done it in the archives—he'd woken up this morning and gone back to normal. Paid attention to you, paid attention to others, humoured your public displays of affection and initiated his own in private. Acted like the past two weeks never happened, and that nothing’s been weighing on his mind.
Were he anyone else, you'd assume that you're simply being strung along for sex, or perhaps being distracted by it. But Dan Heng isn't anyone else: he has absolutely no interest in physical intimacy without the emotional kind. He'd slept with you as an affirmation of his feelings for you. (He probably also did it because you kept begging to be fucked, but that's neither here nor there.)
Still, as much as you liked having your back blown out in the archives, semi-public sex isn't exactly a healthy way to deal with relationship problems.
"I know you'll be more mindful of my feelings now," you reply, "but I'd still like you to tell me what's been bothering you. I won't force it out of you, but if you did tell me, we could maybe fix it?"
"It is unfixable," he replies, "and not a problem to begin with. Simply the nature of things that I must accept."
His tone is neutral. Factual. Certain of the insignificance of whatever the issue is, even though you know that he's not the type to be bothered by insignificant things.
You frown, confused. "If it's the nature of things, then it won't hurt for me to know."
Dan Heng isn't looking at you anymore, instead fixated on the view beyond your window. Peering at the many moons of this galaxy, he finally relents: "'The night-blooming cereus flowers only once.' This is how Vidyadharas describe human life."
You consider his words, contemplating the bittersweet air of the idiom.
"Because human life feels ephemeral to you?" you discern.
"Yes. The lifespan of a human is but a fraction of ours. It's never bothered me before, but"—he's finally looking at you now, and his expression guts you—"four months without you feels unbearable. I can't imagine four centuries."
You go quiet.
Dan Heng is right: this is the nature of things. Skilled as you might be, you aren't likely to be one of those rare few humans who can ascend to immortality without Yaoshi's fruit. He’ll likely need to spend the better part of his life without you, and then every lifetime thereafter. Such is the reality for a Vidyadhara choosing to love a short-life species.
“...I’m sorry, Dan Heng,” is all you can bring yourself to say, but he shakes his head.
“There is no need for you to apologize," he says plainly. "I should have prepared myself for this eventuality when I chose to commit myself to you. It cannot be helped."
Dan Heng loves this phrase, you think to yourself. It cannot be helped that I had to live alone for so many years. It cannot be helped that I was exiled from my home. It cannot be helped that I was punished for the sins of Yinyue Jun.
It cannot be helped that you will someday leave me.
A splinter digs into your heart. You reach out, squeeze his hand, and wish that you could do more.
"It cannot be helped," you agree, "but that doesn't make it any less painful."
Dan Heng does not speak, but the way that he closes his eyes is enough of a reply. No matter how unfeeling he makes his voice, his pain is evident.
You wait for him to collect himself. Listen to his breaths—deeper than usual, meditative, reflective. There is hesitation in his eyes when he finally looks at you. A weakness that he only ever shows at night, after waking from a terrible dream.
"...I know it's a cruel thing to ask of you," Dan Heng eventually says, and the bitter edge to his words surprises you, "and perhaps a sign that this soul of mine will never change in its sins, no matter how many times it is reborn—but is there no way for us to spend a life together?"
You forget how to breathe.
What he's asking you is not just heretical for him—it's traumatic. An echo of the crime he'd committed in his past life, the tragedy that marked him for suffering in this one. He must be desperate for an answer if he's voicing the question at all.
You struggle as you think through your options.
"Seeking out the Peaches of Immortality is out of the question," you start. "And Sanctus Medicus is just a bunch of nutjobs—no way could they make me immortal. Demonic cultivation is another Path, but I don't think you'd like the thing I'd become by the end of it."
A brilliant river of stars streams past the window, like the one in that ancient folktale about the bridge of magpies. You can see the reflection of your lover's face in the window: muted, sorrowful, already mourning you. And of course he's mourning you long before your death, with how much he'd lost long before his birth.
Oh, Heng'er, you think, even if I drank from Meng Po's bowl and lost every memory of you, I'd still find my way back to you in my next life.
It would be too cruel to say aloud, so you remain quiet—merely staring at the galaxy before you, hoping quietly to see some kind of bridge.
Then a nearby sun flickers, and you remember something.
"...I guess there is another option," you say slowly, "but I can't imagine you being happy with it."
He straightens up. "What is it?"
"Well…" You take a deep breath. "Sometimes people practice dual cultivation as a way to extend their life. It's quite safe, but would be difficult given our relationship."
Dan Heng stares. "What exactly does it entail?"
"Well… it's basically cultivating by having sex. If I slept regularly with an immortal being with highly refined qi, I could probably exchange energy with them and achieve longevity that way." You make a face at the thought. "But it's not exactly easy to find an immortal who'd want a lifelong friend with benefits… and I'd really rather not have sex with anyone other than you, anyway."
It would probably make him miserable.
You're surprised when Dan Heng looks thoughtful, rather than disturbed. He studies you for a long moment, considering.
"Vidyadharas are immortal," he says, "and the qi of a High Elder is much more powerful than that of any other species. Is it not helping that we're already coupling so often?"
"Not really." You reach out across the table, hold out your palm, and he knows to give you his hand. You turn it over, tracing a finger along the length of his wrist. "Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form."
You feel for the warm glow of his meridians, even though you already know what you'll find—an ordinary, unremarkable life force coursing through his body.
Dan Heng doesn't seem discouraged, though, when you look back up at him. Only curious.
"Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?"
It doesn't end up being very straightforward.
For a full ninety minutes, Dan Heng sits in your room and listens to you discuss the mechanics of dual cultivation, also known traditionally as the 'art of the bedchamber'. As its name would suggest, there are quite a few nuances and technical considerations involved: different positions enhance your qi in different ways; certain acts are more useful than others; mutual pleasure must be attained for the greatest possible benefit.
It isn't just a lecture that you give him. You take out one of your cultivation manuals and show him various diagrams and poses. You whip out your tablet and visit "questionable websites" for "video demonstrations". You quiz him intensively at the end of each unit.
At around the seventy-minute mark, you catalogue Dan Heng's expression—thousand yard stare, stiff posture, red ears—and decide that you're overwhelming him. So you tell him the most important takeaway, which is that one thing he must absolutely do is—
"—finish inside you?"
"Mhm." You sound completely unbothered. "As much as possible. And as many times as possible."
He gives you a long, blank stare, and then crosses his arms. "...all of this is just a ploy to get me to do one of your favourite things in bed, isn't it."
"What? No! I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, Gege!" You're being truthful. Though your sex drive can sometimes drive you to try insane things, it never drives you to be cruel. "I'm being dead serious right now. This really will extend my life. Those cultivation manuals were proof!"
Dan Heng considers you. "You're right. You wouldn't lie about something like this."
"Thank you."
"You're already so shameless about begging for it—I don't think you'd see the need to come up with an excuse."
Wow.
"...okay, yes, but you're also pretty shameless about giving in."
Dan Heng clears his throat, and you try not to laugh. "Well, I've never had a reason not to, since we don't need to worry about pregnancy…" He tries very, very hard to assume some semblance of dignity as he deflects: "Anyway. I think I understand the gist of it. You more or less want me to do the usual things."
"Yes—but while you're in your original form, of course."
"Right." His eyes narrow, and his expression becomes uncertain: something you've only seen a handful of times. "...I do need you to know that taking that shape… complicates things. There is a reason why my powers are usually sealed."
You nod. You've known for a while now that Dan Heng hates invoking his Vidyadhara powers—he considers it as taboo as much as a Xianzhou native would. Truthfully, it did occur to you some time ago that exchanging qi with a dragon would make your cultivation progress leaps and bounds, but after learning about how much he despises that form of his, you'd scrapped the whole idea and put it out of mind.
You're surprised that he's even consenting to this, all things considered.
Noticing the tension in his body, you leave your teaching set-up (tablet, an annotated cultivation manual, and smartboard with various stick figures you've drawn) to rest a hand on his shoulder.
"I don't know if we have to worry about that. The Alliance only sealed Vidyadhara powers due to historical reasons relating to the Sedition, right?" you try to console him. "Rather than anything to do with your nature in this lifetime, I mean. You aren't inherently dangerous."
You can see the conflict in his eyes; your words run exactly counter to everything he must have heard while imprisoned on the Luofu.
"I don't know," Dan Heng finally says, "but for better or worse, things are still different when I take my true shape. I'm no longer used to it." He frowns a little. "The amount of power feels overwhelming to me now. It's fine in normal circumstances, but—" He struggles for a moment. "...I don't know how I'll behave in… these circumstances with you."
"Ah, I see. You're worried that you won't be able to control yourself while fucking you're me, huh?"
He gives you a disgruntled look. "Do you have to use such crass language?"
"Sorry, Gege. I'll try to speak eloquently like you: Yinyue Jun may fall to his base instincts once he's crossed the threshold of the chrysanthemum gate, right?"
His expression turns from disgruntled to disdainful. Evidently, he's not a fan of your erotica novel slang.
"Please be serious for once. We need to be careful if we do this. I might behave impulsively—do something rash. Accidentally hurt you."
You hum, considering his words. "That's surprising. I thought dragons were generally supposed to be pretty calm and wise…" Then you think about how you couldn't walk this morning. "Though I guess you weren't particularly calm yesterday."
He snorts. "Well, I usually am. Unfortunately, I find it exceptionally hard to control myself around you, with how much you like to provoke me," he says plainly. "It'll just get worse if I switch forms."
You try not to stare at him, shocked at how unbothered he is by these admissions. You suppose that multiple rounds of semi-public sex might have forced him to cross an event horizon of shame, and now his face is finally getting thicker.
"It isn't just my behaviour I'm worried about," he continues. His arms cross again, and his brow furrows. "You might find my form… unattractive. You probably won't like it."
You frown. "I can't imagine that. I bet the real Cold Dragon Young is super handsome."
It's a testament to his anxiety that he hardly reacts to your stupid comment. He just studies you carefully, uncertain. Apprehensive.
"I guess we'll find out."
END PART 1
notes: for those unfamiliar, this fic is set in the same universe as fengyue. fengyue was actually based on this fic, but due to my inability to manage deadlines, it came out way ahead of this LOL
i'm sorry there was no dragonfucking in this part when i have been promising dragonfucking for ages on this blog. but i am 12.5k words into part 2 and i can assure you that there is an excessive amount of incredibly nasty dragonfucking in it, so please look forward to that
this was written way before 1.2 came out (and in fact, before I had even caught up to 1.1 content). hopefully the characterization still holds up ok!
big, big thank you to @petrichorium for helping me navigate canon lore and riffing w me on this piece. please go check out their works, they have banger star rail content!
cultural notes:
cultivation is the practice of using martial and spiritual arts to cultivate one’s qi, gain spiritual powers, and attain immortality
dual cultivation is the act of refining your qi through having sex
I will be honest. I cannot remember the other cultural refs I dropped because I just kind of blindly write them in so please let me know if you have any questions about things LOL
translation notes:
gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close; it can come off as either flirty or childish. heng'er is a diminutive of dan heng's name.
“If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever” - this was a reference to the chinese version of dan heng’s ult line. in english, he says “this sanctuary is but a vision”. however, in chinese, he says “洞天幻化，长梦一觉” which is closer to something like “paradise is an illusion, reveals itself to be a long dream”
"The night-blooming cereus flowers only once" - this is how I rendered the idiom "曇花一現", which describes thing that are short-lived
"Human life should be as morning dew" - this is how I rendered the idiom "人生如朝露", which describes the ephemeral nature of human life
yes I really made dan-gege break out the chengyu and poetic speech... I'm not sure how he sounds in english but my man has his super literary moments in chinese haha
In the last days of MerMay sharing with you two of my favourite boys
Platonic Dan Heng, Welt, & Gallagher with a teen!reader that’s like Homura Akemi (From Puella Magi) but like they have a boss fight where reader is similar to Homulily (aka Homura’s witch form). Maybe after they’re defeated or when fighting them!
♡´･ᴗ･`♡
I absolutely love Homura, so I got really excited seeing this request, Anon!! I hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Kind of spoilers for Homura's abilities as a witch?, vague descriptions of her abilities/appearance, angst, hurt/no comfort, blood, reader used to be under their care in some way, bossfight against reader, reader turns evil for unknown reasons, reader dies in two of them
Reader has no set pronouns!!
((Not proofread))
》GALLAGHER
Gallagher didn't know how it all turned out this way, and yet, he perhaps should've seen it coming too. He usually did. Now, standing before your twisted and near unrecognizable form, he found himself hesitating to protect the very place he was created to watch over all those years ago by Mkihail. But perhaps the old man should've also just taught him how to deal with the heartbreak he experienced at the realisation that he now had to fight you. The very kid he took under his wing.
Gallagher wasn't the type to plead and complain, however. He flicked his lighter open, deciding that things would come the way they should and needed to. What was another loss in the end? You were in pain under all the layers of hate you had become, a twisted witch as you called yourself. Someone who had to get rid of the rats that plagued the world cleanse it from the evil. Unaware that you had become the very thing you hated. He pitied you, deciding it was best to end it here by his own hands before someone else did.
You raised your arms in anticipation, your voice screeching in need for battle, and he simply chuckled. You were never the type for theatrics before you turned into this... but things have changed. He decided to play along with you one more time, as he summoned a Meme, unaffected by what may happen as he was assured he'd win. Even if it meant losing you.
》WELT YANG
This isn't the first nor the last time he had to fight against someone he cared for, and yet something about it still hurt him deeply. He thought that switching worlds would save him from that heartbreaking fate, yet you proved him wrong. You were a child that was taken in and raised by the express, a young teen that deserved to live a bright life despite never having gotten as far due to the consequences of your own actions. You turned into a witch, a grotesque monster that rivaled the strength of what he had seen in honkai abominations, and yet he still couldn't find it in his to hate you. Even if you attempted to end him through your own hate as well.
The fight was still unfair, however, as despite most of his Herrscher abilities being sealed, he still was able to beat you with the small fraction he still had. You were too young to control your abilities properly, too confused and disoriented with the sudden surge of power and strength beyond your own means, until it ultimately ended you. He simply stood over you as he watched you fade away into the morning sun, your body retaining it's original form, yet even then, did he not call onto the Astral Express. They didn't need to see you like this. They didn't need to try and save someone they couldn't.
And so as you took your last breaths, your hand weakly reached up to turn back time once more, yet he stopped you by placing his hand on yours and shaking his head silently. He figured you out at last. You couldn't help but smile for the first time at that bitterly, as you finally allowed yourself to rest with a final sigh in defeat.
》DAN HENG
Dan Heng knew things were getting bad when you forced him to take on his true form to deflect a near devastating attack from you. He had to stop you, save you. But he was running out of options, and you were relentless. You didn't give him a moments rest. You didn't let him think or regroup. You didn't let him call for help from your other companions. He couldn't do anything but dodged anything you threw at him seconds before it hit him, yet his heart couldn't allow him to attack you back.
His mind ran rampant with memories of you two watching over the Databank as he taught you everything he knew. You were like a younger sibling to him, a part of the family he was able to build when the Astral Express became his home all those years ago. And now it was all coming to an end right before his very eyes, when you began charging up an ability he knew would end him and perhaps even more if he didn't stop it.
He scared himself with the thought that ending your young life would be a form of mercy. He felt disgusted at his own thoughts, wondering if he had even learned anything at all from his rebirth, and yet he still pierced your witch form's heart with a swipe of his hand, knowing you couldn't survive it. But it was alright, as a part of him died with you too.
Okay, so this one was lowkey sad to write... but I enjoy the angst, so I hope this was fine for you, Anon, and thank you again for the great request!!<33
Caelus asking the important questions, even pompom jumped in.