#CRIES INTO MY HANDS THE DITING EASTER EGG KILLED MEEEE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

everlastiingiimmortals · 2 months

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he shouldn't be here.

despite his technical 'freedom' aboard the luofu - he still shouldn't be here. blade was an abomination after all - a blight of mara and abundance that the ten lords commission would stop at nothing to eradicate. and they had tried. multiple times - only to be met with the familiar weight of his sword - broken limbs and broken minds, a trail of carnage. and on the one occasion a killing blow had been achieved - well... he'd just come back, hadn't he? curse. blight. plague. that was his existence to the luofu. and for him... for him it was simply filled with memory upon memory upon memory. any extended period of time upon the ship without kafka was almost guaranteed to send him into a flare of the mara - unless... unless his instincts could focus on something else.

despite all the fractured memories that came with jing yuan - so to, did warm comforts. so to, did a settled mind. whether it be because he could relax in the privacy of just them, or because the instinct of mutual hunters latched upon each other... blade did not know, nor did he care. he sought him out when he desired to, and now was no different.

blade had prowled the halls of his home in the dead of night, the ephemeral glow of borisin and mara made crimson eyes a giveaway to the self-same hunt he'd cast himself upon. he was like a strange beast - one that needed enrichment to stay focused, and seeking jing yuan out provided just the right amount of stimulation to keep the mara at bay. familiar scent - the pitter-patter of his heartbeat to his sensitive ears, all things that drove the stellaron hunter to seek and seek and seek - until he's cornered jing yuan, until the hunt has become a stalemate - when two great predators lock jaws, until-

he lounges now, half leaned against the dozing general in a way that belies comfort that hadn't existed prior to the encounter with jingliu. indeed, there are sketch pages scattered about - pulled from a pad that he had squirrelled away in jing yuan's home like some kind of animal - only to produce on his random visits when hunt turned to rest and his mind still needed to stay busy. still - he remembers yingxing's artful creations - the ease with which he'd both invented and drew his friends, jing yuan's likeness recounted through the years in a way that blade couldn't possibly begin to recreate. it would hit him in waves of frustration as well as cramps in destroyed hands, but his distress was only made visible in the elevation of his heart rate, or the way his jaw would tense in displeasure.

blade said nothing. he simply drew on. a diting - garbed in a cloud knight uniform. such a strange, ridiculous drawing, pulled from the depths of his memory. the hunter does not look up as he eases charcoal along thin lines - still creating a masterpiece, even now, thought it would never match what yingxing had done. eventually, he finds the words stirring in his throat, brilliant carmine (once such soft, vibrant indigo) meeting jing yuan's own gaze. " you are not afraid of me. " he states matter-of-factly, as if he were comment on the weather, " and out of everyone - i remember you the best. " for jing yuan was not warped by the shadows of dan feng's sin, of shuhu's malevolent whispers - a shining beacon of sunlight, in the darkest of yingxing's memories.

he says nothing more on the matter - content to let the revelation hang between them. the hunter shifts against jing yuan's side - picking up his charcoal once more - only to let loose a sharp grunt as his hand spasms, and the delicate utensil shatters in his grip from the shock of pain. and in that moment, one might say his gaze is briefly melancholy, as he perceives the ruination of that silly, painstaking drawing. " damn... "

Unprompted. Always Accepting! @karmawind

Blade is not supposed to be here, but there is a rare solace in his presence all the same; two souls, one whole, one broken, both left behind in different ways, but at least in moments like these they could find a momentary peace.

The hunt had become a twisted game to them, almost ritualistic and certainly ironic in its preface to the rest that follows. What little shame remains in Jing Yuan's heart after so many centuries of reigning over the Luofu coils briefly in his chest, chiding him for finding enjoyment in the anticipation and danger in the pursuit. Surely anyone catching him voluntarily housing the Stellaron Hunter would spell disaster for him -- but Jing Yuan has weathered many years of criticism and threats to his reputation. This is no different. Plus, if Blade is a predator, so, too, is he -- and he's been terribly, terribly bored.

So he lets Blade come, lets Blade 'break in,' lets him prowl the cold and empty halls of his home, and when they draw, lets him settle against his side. He rests his own head atop Blade's hair, eyes closed in a half-slumber befitting his nickname. It is only when Blade stirs that he does as well, blearily cracking open his visible eye.

You are not afraid of me.

"I have no reason to be," he rumbles in response, voice slightly hoarse with drowsiness. It is an inherently false statement, given what plagues Blade's nature, as well as his position with respect to the Luofu. And yet it is honest all the same, unabashedly so. A wolf still is a wild animal no matter how tame it may seem, but in knowing that wolf and its permission for one to be in its presence, there is security. He cannot deny the comfort the revelation brings, and is content to lay his cheek against Blade's head once more -- when Blade's arm seizes against his side as his hand spasms, and the painful sound of shattering charcoal, loud in the relative silence, almost echoes throughout the room.

Jing Yuan's noise of dismay is perhaps louder than Blade's own as he carefully plucks the fragments from the page and the Hunter's hand, then brushes his hand free from dust and pulls up his sleeve enough to expose his inner wrist. From gentle fingertips against Blade's scarred skin flows light current, stimulating and soothing in its rhythm until the tension in his muscles starts to subside.

"That silly Diting," he murmurs softly, once he finally looks to the ruined page. "I'm surprised you remember it."

#//an answer sought; (ASK)#karmawind #//everlasting; (IC)#//the dozing general; (JING YUAN)#CRIES INTO MY HANDS THE DITING EASTER EGG KILLED MEEEE #also dw abt the scuffed formatting ik mobile's a bitch sometimes

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