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#i dont rlly wanna tag this smut cause nothing Happens
prettyboykatsuki · 9 months
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based on this post. i flipped a coin and it landed on dan heng. it was going to be dragon!dh but i thought this was better. top + gn!reader. major spoilers for the hsr main storyline. implicit nsfw 18+
wc ; 1.8k
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There is no place for you in the Xianzhou Luofu.
You are a prisoner of war. A long life species. Once, long ago, you'd been taken in by Imbibitor Lunae for your unwavering strength. From a planet long destroyed, with no family nor honor - you'd pressed your forehead to the floor and begged for your life.
Your Master had laughed at the time. Head tilted and smiling, shining and brilliant. You can recall the image so well even now, so many years later.
In the prisons of the Xianzhou, a new lifeform was birthed. The splitting image of your master, but no more than their ghost. The reanimated being Imbibitor Lunae took the punishment of your Master - banished from the Xianzhou. And you, a soul with no ties, took it upon yourself to follow.
For starters, Dan Heng does not like when you call him with any honorifics like he is above you. Dan Heng prefers his name. If you are to speak to him at all, it must be with his name. He likes names, it seems. He gave you yours when you'd followed him far enough and realized you didn't have one.
Next, Dan Heng does not seem to like you very much. You don't think it's personal. As far as ghosts go, you are little more than a poltergeist of his past. The people on the Express regard you fondly, but Dan Heng always looks like he is in pain when his gaze touches you too long.
And last, Dan Heng is beautiful even when he is not in his other forms. Even when he is the Dan Heng of the Astral Express. Dan Heng without name or origin. When he is a little more like you, somehow - you think he is beautiful.
And despite the similarities, Dan Heng is nothing like your master. There are many ghosts in the Xianzhou, but the ghost of Dan Feng does not linger in Dan Heng. Dan Heng is colder. Smoother. At times gentler, too. You know little of reincarnation, but of this much you can be sure. And though your Master saved your life, by now you've spent more time with Dan Heng than you ever did with them.
You do not know much of love. There was someone once. Long, long ago.
And yet, this much you know - you think your heart flutters whenever you think of Dan Heng.
Often, you are forced to reconcile with the differences between your master and Dan Heng. Their tastes, from food to clothing, always stand out to you. It is their taste in adornments that you usually pay most attention to. It's not that Dan Feng was particular.
But Dan Heng often wears jewelry so thin you can hardly see it. It's hard to describe how much it effects you, other than saying that it does. Other than saying you're always the first to notice the changes. He wears the connected tassel and ribbon only when he's leaving the ship. If someone is to gift him jewelry for any reason, he will always wear at least once.
You are forced to recognize the little details of Dan Heng when you notice these adornments. Forced to picture them in your fantasies in which you are able to put him to bed. Often on the floor of the archives, you wonder about the thin swishes of silver.
He wears a necklace underneath the high collar of his shirt. It's a gift from March 7th. A blue moon on a thin silver chain that sits perfectly in the middle of his sternum, trapped against his chest. Sometimes, when he puts on the clothes he has for sleep - you catch a glimpse of it. The starlight pouring through the windows make it shine.
His neck is thin, you think. Something about it is fragile. What would happen to such a material if you were to reach out and touch it.
(What would happen to Dan Heng if your hand tightened around it. Would his skin finally feel flush? Warm to your fingers, contrasting to the cool tones? )
There are bracelets too. Several. Some less formal, more gifts from March. One from Mr. Yang - this time it is gold. Gold, a braided chain - but delicate all the same. This one he takes off often. Only for special events. The curve of his wrist bewitches you. You think the bend of it must be pretty as a picture.
(You think of the indentation it might leave on your spine, had he let you have his way with him, The sound of his voice in your ear, pitchy and high - enough that the pain of being imprinted wouldn't faze you at all.
How good he would feel with his arms around your shoulders and your hands on his hips, bracing for dear life.)
Dan Heng says he doesn't wear rings often.
"They'll tear the pages in the archives if I'm not careful."
But he does own them. He buys them for himself usually, at the market. They're all of the same type. Bands of fine metals that are practical. Silver with aquamarine and amethyst. Gold with quartz and opal. He's not the type to spend so heavily on excess - so there are few. Accumulated after years and years, but untouched by time.
You wonder, if there's any particular reason he keeps them. You aren't sure there is. But he likes them, all the same. Rings are important in your culture. Different ones for different occasion. You think it is too much of a pipedream to hope he thinks of you as he buys them.
(You think of him wearing rings more often than not. It fills you with homesickness. The slender of his fingers with the jewels you've given him. A tradition from your homeland. Something about Dan Heng incites the desire to spoil, adoration bloomed from something much more potent than subservience.
He's beautiful always, but how beautiful would he be underneath you? Black hair and thin features. Delicate and ethereal, otherworldly. His hands covering his expression, painted in pink. Pink cheeks and hot pink mouth, bitten and swollen to hell.
The shine of the things you've given him, all over. You are dying to know lately, if it's possible to make a perfect thing more beautiful)
Last, there is your favorite thing to gift him. Anklets. From the beginning, you're unsure of where the compulsion came from. Even before you ended up in this state - you thought it would suit him. A chain around the ankle, with trinkets. Something more playful than elegant, but suited to Dan Heng all the same.
Recently, Dan Heng parades around the express in his dragon form often enough. The secret is out, so it's pointless in more ways than one to always maintain it. Though he prefers his other form, it is less energy to maintain this one. So he does.
Imbibitor Lunae is seated on the edge of your bed wearing your anklet, and you think the part of you that tries not to get too close might die soon.
You blink once, then again to assure you've not got mad.
"You're wearing it,"
Dan Heng gives you a momentary blank stare before flushing down to his neck.
"You noticed." Comes his reply, curt and deflective. Normally, you'd meet him tit for tat. Match his sarcasm to yours, but the words die as you inch closer to the edge of the bed. He doesn't back away.
"You're...wearing it. Why?"
He doesn't say anything to this. Just flushes and sighs like he's somehow above answering. You think it's endearing. You stand, sit on the edge of the bed and stare. You feel something in you start to crack.
Yes, lately - it is harder and harder to pretend that you do not look at Dan Heng and long.
"Dan Heng," You say, slowly and clearly "I want to touch you."
This makes him look like he'll keel over. There's some words forming in his mouth, something meant to scold you. When your eyes meet the words seem to die. Maybe he can tell you're serious. They're blue and wide and ethereal, stunned into shocked silence.
Your hand rests on his ankle. He doesn't move as you turn to look at it, pressing it against your thumb. You think a single hand around the bend of it, from thumb to ring finger could fit it. A being so powerful not much thicker than grass blades. Pale like milk pouring over honey.
"Since when?" Is his next question. He looks troubled.
"Since as long as we've been aboard the express."
You move towards the end of the bed and Dan Heng makes room for where you sit. You place your hand against clothed calf, planing up until his knee and resting there. He frowns.
"Did you not long for your Master?"
"No," You say firm, getting on your knees and leaning up. Dan Heng stumbles back against the pillows that hold him up. He falls to them as you hover over them and suddenly you're so close. "Only you,"
You take a piece of his hair, long and silky, kissing it as tenderly as you can. From this angle he flushes. Adorned and beautiful, with the same necklace and dainty hooped earrings. The little details that make up all of his idiosyncrasies.
"Only me." He repeats, soft and low and cute. Yes, there is only Dan Heng. You're sure your master could never make a face like this. He looks up at you a little stunned, into quiet silence that doesn't reach you.
"Why did you wear it?" You lean in his. His breath is warm with mint.
"I'm sure you're clever enough to figure that out."
You put your hands on his waist, inching up against the fabric. Your noses touch.
"I want to hear you say it," You reply to him, a little closer - brushing against his lips. He makes a face at you "Or else it will feel too much like a dream."
Your knee presses against the place between his legs but Dan Heng makes no moves to stop you.
"I wore it for you to notice. I didn't think you really would."
You laugh softly.
"I always notice. I'm always looking at you. Just you. It has been that way for a long time now."
He closes his eyes and laughs with you.
"I suppose it has."
You kiss him like this. Slow and tender and gentle, a soft sensation that builds itself to one of lust. You try not to devour Dan Heng, but it grows impossible. How could you turn away from him like this? Ripe like something waiting to be plucked, eaten whole even when taken apart slowly. You dip your tongue into Dan Hengs mouth, licking the fangs but never cutting yourself on their sharp edges.
Something stirs in you, something hard pressed against your stomach. You laugh a little.
"Dan Heng," You say again, teeth scrapping his jaw "I want to look at you a little closer."
He breathes you in. His hand reaches for yours, feeling for your ring finger.
"Nothing is stopping you."
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