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eggluverz · 7 months

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STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!!

WORD COUNT. 5,332

SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?

SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :>

“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow.

It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared.

As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”

He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion.

“Beautiful.”

You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”

“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”

You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors.

“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”

“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”

Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face.

You pouted. “Hey!”

“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”

“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”

“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.”

“And mine, yours.”

Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s.

Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity.

You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs.

No, that was nothing.

Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his.

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.

That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that.

Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having.

Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through.

Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him.

But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again.

The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day.

He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”

You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course.

Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up.

If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away.

“Y/N…”

You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”

Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?”

“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.”

He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars.

Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.

“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly.

Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”

“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?”

You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”

“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”

Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you?

You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody.

And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself.

And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free.

It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng.

And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of.

This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.

Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.

He knew what he had to do.

Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Where are they?”

Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning?

Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.

“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”

“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time.

“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself.

His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”

Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.”

“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.”

He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do?

He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.

The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined.

It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation.

You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future.

Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.

Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life.

Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.

He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters.

Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul.

“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.

“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.

“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.”

You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.”

Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased.

You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.

“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?”

He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”

At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.

“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.”

“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.”

He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”

You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin.

“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments.

While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions.

He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”

Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant.

You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”

He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you.

“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”

You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”

He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing.

“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”

“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”

You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”

“From my dreams.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless.

“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”

With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”

You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”

“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”

“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”

Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.

“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?”

“You sound ridiculous.”

His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth.

“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”

Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body.

“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”

“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”

His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”

You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself.

Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever?

After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.”

He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison.

“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”

Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”

“I understand.”

You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly.

“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response.

“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.”

You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”

Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.”

The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person.

“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”

Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.”

Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”

You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”

At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket.

“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.”

He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest.

“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”

It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you.

Instead, it was a white peony.

You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white.

#honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #dan heng #dan feng #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #dan heng imagines #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr x y/n #hsr x you

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kashi-pon · 7 months

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🚗 olicar

🚙louicar

🚕 shac hoe car

yeagg

You are so so right, anon.

Take this, as a reward

also Louie as a regular delivery boy is just priceless.

#pikmin #louie pikmin #captain olimar #mai artz

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kevin-ibw · 1 month

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would SHAC Vox have any favoritism to his other selfs? Especially OG Vox? Or would he hate them all internally because he thinks their copy’s of him?

also would they fuck? Like mind fuck, or something?? Like would OG and SHAC go at it to see who’s better or like emotional bonding they need??

this Ask is inspired by this specific fanfic that I can’t get my head out off.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32902696

SHAU Vox's Opinion On His Alternates

Okay! First off, for the sake of clarity, two of my AU Voxes will be given a name to differ from OG Vox, whilst he can still keep his own so it's easier to remember.

Salvation Hotel (SHAU): Voxel

Couldabin Hotel (CHAU): Victor

Voxel does harbor some hidden animosity when it comes to Vox. With Victor, it's not as bad considering the fact that they're still somewhat similar to one another. It's filtered envy and when they interact Victor likes to hold a condescending tone towards Voxel, but he knows to thread carefully and not cross the obvious red line that's between them, because no one wants to know the amalgamation of horrors that Voxel transmits through the radio waves.

But Vox? Absolutely despises him, but in a weird twisted way, Voxel finds him intriguing. It’s like having a character you really like, and you want to ruin them. It's a morbid fascination fueled by a desire to understand what makes Vox tick and, ultimately, to dismantle him and put him back together.

Would They Fuck?

... Do you want an honest answer because-

Going at it to see Who's Better

Honestly, it would be very one-sided on Vox's part because Voxel will just find the attempt amusing.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin vox #au: salvation hotel #AU: Couldabin Hotel #voxcest #???

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neonovember · 11 months

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Could you do an Ari Levinson x teen!daughter!reader after she has a hard day?

this is my first time writing a daughter!reader insert so please if you have any tips do share cause it was tricky at times, this was fun to write nevertheless! I feel like Ari and Steve would be the best people to talk to after a hard day, (it also help that they have huge chests you can cry into).

seriously tho, fuck group projects

Burgers and Milkshakes

pairing: dad!Ari Levinson x teen!daughter!reader

warnings; anxiety, panic attacks, self deprecation, group projects

summary: life is hard, especially when sometimes the thoughts become too much. But your father is nowhere but where you need him, and he’s got a hell of a lot of patience.

The cracked concrete under your converses crunch as you stomp down the edged path, the summer afternoon rays have just set in, beating down at you incessantly. You can feel the sweat drip down your neck, cascading down your back, before absorbing into your dampening shirt. You itch with the need for a shower, cringing at the sweat pooling near the nape of your neck, you almost scream when you have to blow your hair out of your face for the 100th time.

Your backpack presses painfully into your shoulders, weighed down by the thick binders of books you had shoved from your locker the second the bell rang. It wouldn't normally be a problem, especially since your house was only a short walk away, but God had found it amusing to throw a wrench in that, and instead, your usual short cut had been taken over my fluorescent vests and the smell of sweating workmen rebuilding what you had thought was a perfectly well built gravel road.

It had been years since you had last taken this route, and in your haste to get home, you had forgotten how scenic it was. The spiny concrete path was enraptured with nature, with low willow trees bending over so close you had to duck from its emerald leaves, and a river stream that broke the sunlight across it like diamonds. Your fingers itched to grab your notebook and draw a quick sketch, but you didn't doubt something would bite you if you tried reaching into the black hole that was your backpack.

Summer break was just around the corner, creeping in to the point where you could practically taste the salt air of golden beaches and feel the sticky mess of dripping red ice pops. Most importantly, you couldn't wait until you were dragging Ari to one of the hundred museum’s your town had to offer. Your classmates had reiterated the same desires, some telling you about the trips they would take abroad, and through the country, Ryan, a short but loud kid in your class, had even said his dad had gotten his family an RV to sail across the states.

You would've liked that, you think, travelling through the country with a beat up RV, collecting trinkets and cheap souvenirs from each city and town you drove to despite your fathers protests. Ari maybe even finally teaching you how to drive, finding an empty country road where it was so far from civilization your father would be sure you wouldn't accidentally kill some pedestrian.

Either which way your summer break would go, you couldn't wait before emptying your locking and leaving those faded blue entrance doors to your school. It wasn't that you hated school, in fact you didn't mind it, especially when the tight knit group of friends you had made it that much more tolerable, but it seems like more and more things were happening that was just piling onto, and you feared you were one thread away from imploding.

And the reminder of what had occurred today turns your mouth sour, and the relief the scenic trail had given you is now overrun by an immense feeling of anger and frustration. Your shoulder still aches from your backpack, and the never ending sweat continues to drip down your back, and it all just feels too much.

You had this fear, this incredibly foolish fear that you were unknowingly despised. It had taken over your entire life one summer, shackling you to the confines of your room despite your friends begging for you to come out, you just felt it, like the blood in your veins, that you were just, unlikable.

And most days your friends would snap you from that never ending spiral, reminding you of how loved and adored you were, your own father, despite being the biggest burly man you knew, wouldn’t think twice before sitting you down and letting you cry your heart out to him, before taking you out to your favourite diner in town.

“Nothing cures tears like a burger and milkshake”

At Least it was better than having him storm into school and beat up the first person who looked at you wrong, yeah much better.

But recently, it felt like you could feel yourself slipping into that self-deprecating puddle, and there was no way to stop it, left to just watch yourself sink, sink, sink like quicksand until you were drowning. You feared today had been the day that broke the camel's back, and it began to hit you, as you were left to be consumed with your thoughts walking home, how much it had affected you.

You were so distracted with your thoughts, you hadn't realised you had trekked through most of the trail, seeing the familiar sight of your neighbourhood just around the bend. It was the afternoon rush, and the street was alive with sedans and vans packed with kids, some smushing their faces against the window, the bickering sound of siblings fighting over food and the familiar sound of cartoons coming from Ipads.

You would have appreciated the sight of the world alive if you weren’t drowning in the anxious thoughts that circled you like a shark, waiting to pounce. Jaywalking across the road, and avoiding the judgy look from the lollipop man, you finally make it to your street, and yet your relief is short lived when you nearly fall due to an obstruction on the road. You catch yourself just in time, stumble a little before realising you've nearly tripped over your neighbour's dog. The golden haired boy looks at you curiously, unfazed and not moving from his rested position on the sidewalk. The poor boy was exhausted from the afternoon sun, flapping his ears as you scratch under them.

“You better be careful next time Sunny” Calls your neighbour, waving at you from her seated position on the coach that was pushed onto the decked veranda. A embroided fan is gripped in her hand, and a glass of something orange rattles with ice cubes in her other. She waves you over, and you jog across her yard, running a hand through the sprinkler she had going.

“Bruno’s been sittin’ there for hours, don’t know what's gotten into him, ‘specially with this heat and all” Your neighbour says, passing you a glass of what you now recognise to be cordial. The artificial sweetness tastes like heaven on your tongue, and you can’t help but gulp it down in 3 sips before wiping a hand across your mouth.

Your neighbour smiles at you, her curious gaze penetrating you like you were translucent.

“You alright there Sunny?” She asks, and you have to peel your mind away from the cesspool of your thoughts to form a coherent response.

“I think it's just the heat, I’ve been feeling out of it all day” You reply, your neighbour nodding along to you, before the clank of metal resounds from your backyard.

“That’s your dad, I think he's been trying to fix that car in the back, he's worse than Bruno that one, won’t even stop for a drink” Your neighbour teases, and at the mention of your father you quickly bid her goodbye before wasting no time to run up the front porch stairs stuffing your key into the door. The cool air of your hallway almost makes you cry.

You pass by the hooked photos of you and dad, before dumping your heavy backpack onto the couch, craning your neck for any sign of your father but of course he isn't anywhere you can see.

“Dad” You yell, walking towards the kitchen, hoping he hears you through the fly screen of the backyard.

“Dad” You yell again, irritated at his silence, you open the fridge door, resting your head on the shelf as the cool air calms the rising anger and sweat. Your neighbour's generous drink had satiated you for the length it took to walk from her house to your own, not goddamn long.

You peer at the fridge, only to find the shelves bare and the sides where a usual jug of ice water would be, empty. You slam the fridge door so hard, the cabinets rattle from your abuse.

You notice the jug on the countertop that you had filled with water in the morning, now warm and gross from the afternoon heat. Your father had completely forgotten your request to put it in the fridge earlier before you had left for school. A simple, straight forward request that would take no longer than 5 minutes.

You storm through the kitchen, sliding the fly screen door open to see your father under a pick up truck that had been sitting in your backyard for months. Your father seemed to love taking on impossible projects rather than completing simple tasks you had specifically asked him to.

You storm towards him, noticing the faded red beat up radio spurting out Marvin Gaye. Of course he couldn't hear you, you could barely think against the loud tunes coming from the speaker.

You turn the speaker off with your foot, screaming rather purposefully

“DAD!!”

Your father shrieks, a loud clunk coming from under the truck before a groan follows. Something like a muffled curse leaves your father's mouth before he rolls himself out from under the truck.

“Jesus, honey, I almost broke my nose under there” Your father groans out, dusting his hands across his jeans before leaning back onto this palms.

There's motor oil and grease splattered across his worn shirt, a bandana is wrapped like a headband across his forehead, pushing out the loose strands of curls sticking to his face. His hands have it the worst, charcoal black, the consistency of tar wedged between his fingers and under his fingernails.

“Pass me a rag will you?” He nods towards a dirty chequered handkerchief, wiping his brow with a hand as the sun beats down on the both of you.

You stare at him baffled, did he not see the gigantic jug of warm water you had in your hand?

“You alright there hun? Some aliens did not abduct my daughter and bring in a clone?” You father jokes, chuckling at his own joke before stopping abruptly at your still silence.

“Shit, for real? Bring me my daughter back!-” Your father replies, getting up from his knelt position.

“Dad” You reply monotone

“-All honesty your kind should be pretty scared, that girl has a mean right hook, so if you even dare try any-” Your father continues rambling

“Dad! God! Can you look at me?” You shout, and your father looks taken back, you never shouted, not really, not unless you were on a rollercoaster or because you were mad. And your backyard sure wasn't Six Flags.

“I left this Jug of water on the countertop, and I told you to put it in the fridge because someone in this house actually listens to the weekly forecast. And I was right, today was the hottest day since, since, like 50 years! And- and you- I told you and you know what you said? You said okay, you told me you weren't a 5 year old and would know that a jug of water on the kitchen counter had to be put in the fridge”

Your father shifts his gaze to the jug of water in your hand, noticing how your arm shakes a little, the knuckles in your hand protruding out as you hold tight, too tight.

“I come home expecting a nice cold drink of water, and I see it, still there, not moved one inch from where I put it!” You shout, frustrated, you want to throw the jug across the yard, watch the glass shatter and water spill into the concrete, turning it dark before the sun brightens it again.

“Sun? Hey, I’m sorry. That was my fault, I should've put it in the second you asked me to, I just got wrapped up in this,” You father nods his head to the pickup truck propped up by bricks, “But that was more important, whatever you tell me is more important okay?” Your father replies, and you nod in agreement

“Yes, that's right” You reply, and your father moves closer to you

“Can I take the jug from you? I’ll just place it right here okay?” Your father replies, and you nod as he takes the jug from you and places it to the side, you don't notice it, but your hands still shake and Ari clasps them in his own, smiling down at you as he holds them to his chest.

“You’re shaking honey” Your father replies

You stare down at your vibrating hands, shaking them as if that would tear away all the anxiety that feels like it's begun to stick to your skin. It’s a different kind of heat that fills you, your chest aches like air is being passed through a wall, every shallow breath leaves you panting for oxygen and you reach out to Ari in panic distress.

“Sun? Sunny? Baby can you hear me? I got you alright? Oh honey” Ari strains, engulfing you into his chest, before picking you up bridal style

“I’m just gonna take you inside okay? Away from all this heat, you don't have to do anything, just hold onto me okay?”

You can't bring yourself to form a coherent response, pushing your face into his shoulder to stop the tears from streaming down. It was all too much, the thoughts, the fears, the black hole that always seemed to pull you down into it, like it was a shadow following you everywhere, waiting and waiting until it could sink its claws knuckles deep.

The motion of Ari taking you back inside feels numb, like you're wading through a current. It's all around you now, your mind, it's slipping between the cracks like sand through fingers.

You find your back against the living room couch, a glass of water on the coffee table and that sight makes you sink, it makes you break because it's cold to the touch and you've ruined it all.

“Sunny? You gotta breathe for me, can you do that? In, out, in out, you know this, it's muscle memory. I know it seems impossible, but your body knows what to do, just let it, let go”

You don't notice your shallow hiccuped breathing until you take control of it, forcing your lungs to swallow air, breathing it in through the stomach like your father had taught you. It takes time, but Ari is patient, holding you as you breathe in and out, he would do it forever if he wanted to, he would be buried holding his baby girl if he needed to.

“You wanna tell me what's been going on?” Your father replies after he feels the rhythmic beat of your chest return to the pace he's memorised.

“I- I don't know, it's that feeling Dad, I- I can't help but feel so shitty about myself. And I- I don't know if its school or or” You ramble, and your Ari just listens, listens to you unleash all the bottled feelings you had kept hanging onto your shoulders.

“Anything happen at school?” Ari replies

You shrug, wiping away tears that had streamed down your cheeks

“Group project” You reply, and Ari nods, rubbing a hand down soothingly up and down your back.

“Someone giving you a hard time?” Ari replies “I swear to god if-”

“No, no no. Nothing like that, just someone being condescending and equally unhelpful. I asked her multiple times, this- this girl part of the group to contribute and you know what she does instead? Take my name off the goddamn paper” You gruff

“What? Are you kidding? Does your teacher know? Do you want me to call her?”

“No its fine, I handled it, but it was just frustrating, felt like she hated me for absolutely no reason, and no one in the group even cared, it was like, it was like they silently agreed to everything she said.

“You can’t control how others view you, trust me on this, people are going to think what you think, and no amount of changing or convincing will shift their own perception of you. But hey” Your father holds your face in his large palms, rubbing away the tears with his thumb

“That's all it is, a perception. They don't know you, they're outsiders looking in, and there are plenty of people who have known you your whole life that still won't understand you. And that's okay, you're the only one who has to live inside your head so fuck em’, this is your life baby girl, and you are the most talented, intelligent and most wonderful person I will ever now. Ever.”

You can’t hide your smile, and your fathers eyes light up at the change in your face. You reach for him and move to hug his neck, with your eyes squeezed shut, you don't doubt that your anxiety will always be a part of your life, your own little roommate, but you don't doubt that your father will be there too, taking up most of the coach, and filling your life until he was apart of you too.

“Fuck group projects, they still make you do that?” Ari replies after a beat

“Fuck group projects” You giggle, whilst nodding.

The silence of the living room is interrupted by a loud gurgling coming from your stomach, and your father chuckles and it tells you enough of what hes going to say next.

Burgers and milkshakes

“And if you had looked closer I bought a 10 pack of water, it’s sitting there in the back shelves. Know it's hard to see cause of all the other shit so I don't blame you-”

You shift from your position on the diner coach.

“What? You- you should've told me dad, I got mad at you for nothing” You reply, now feeling the guilt flood through you, you had a hard time regulating your feelings, and sometimes your father is on the receiving end of it.

Your father shakes you off, leaning back onto the booth couches

“No, no no, stop with that, you were right, you had asked me and I forgot, and it might of been small but you had a lot going on and I couldn't see that, that's my fault, I’m your father, I’m meant to notice these things, it's my job” Your Father replies, sighing

“For the record, your a pretty good dad despite that brain of yours” You reply, smiling

“What, you're saying there's something wrong with my noggin? The same one that gave you all your smarts huh?” Your father teases, pointing a fry at you

“Um..I’m pretty sure I got that from Mom so” You giggle,

Something flashes across your fathers eyes, like a bittersweet nostalgia that glazes over his blues, and he nods at your reply

“Yeah, yeah you did” Your father smiles, and you bite your lip at the mention of your Mom, savouring the moment of the silent exchange of the memories of her between you and your father, a silent longing that never fully goes away even years after.

“So you think we should get you tested?” You reply after a moment

“Hhm” Your father coughs out, blinking back his eyes as he shifts them from staring blankly out the diner window.

“You know just in case of an early onset of dementia” You reply

“I heard their handing out free lobotomies from Levinson's backyard, you gotta get under a pick up truck and get your daughter real angry so that when she screams your name you bang your head real hard under there” You continue laughing

Your father shakes his head “You’ve been keeping that one in huh?, Just know the feds will be coming after you” Your father replies

“What do you mean? '' You ask confused, and that confusion doubles as your father grins at your reply, like there was something he was hiding from you.

“I was fixing that pick up truck so I could teach you during the break, and then it's yours, if you well, pass which is highly unlikely since you don't know one thing about motor vehicles-” Your father replies, before he gets cut off by you squeal, you scramble from across the booth and wrap your arms tight around Ari, stuffing your face into his neck as he grips you tight with his arms.

“You’ve just been promoted from pretty good to amazing” You sniffle, and your father chuckles, rubbing his hand across your back.

“Don't get too excited it ain't finished yet, still gotta fix the motor, and that goddamn sluggish accelerator” Your father groans

“The oil router to the engine, yeah yeah, I’m already a genius at this” You reply and you grin as the sound of your father laugh spreads through him, like a syrup of joy that seems into you, in a way that overshadows all the anxieties and thoughts and fears that had taken homage in your head.

Burgers and Millshakes really did solve everything, especially ones where the cook listens to 70’s pop out of the same beat up stereo your friend had sold for a pack of Marlboros

#neonovember #ari levinson #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x daughter!reader #ari levinson x teen!daughter!reader #dad!ari levinson x reader #dad!ari levinson x daughter!reader #dad!ari levinson x teen!daughter!reader #dad!ari levinson #teen reader #teen daughter!reader #neonovember writes #requests #requests are open #ari levinson fic

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damistrolls · 20 days

Text

psst

wanna send asks but dont know what to send asks abt? i got u covered

u could always ask nihoko about his big sister

or check in with noboru about all the izuumi family drama

or u could ask nedizu about the SHAC program, or about his coworkers. he has things to say about all of them, after all! (or ask any of my fleet guys about each other, theyve all got some thoughts and feelings!!)

never too late to check in with how bax is doing too, after everything!

u could also needle nobody with information about his past that you shouldnt have

or attempt to know possum further despite the fact that he'd rather not be known

#ooc #just suggestions tho! u can ask my guys abt anything :]

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icaruspendragon · 10 months

Note

Look out. You might be happy to use max while they’re serving your purpose, but max is only looking for the next clout ladder to climb. People may have valid concerns about this group of fans, like i’m on anon bc I’m an ex-shac member but I was there for that whole thing and max is pulling your chain. You need to dig deeper than what you’re being told.

i appreciate the concern (/gen) but i promise that after seeing the things that were said about me by so many people in the group, i have no interest or intention of maintaining any sort of relationship with anyone from shac. the apology was nice and unexpected, but that’s as far as i’m willing our discussions to go.

#asks

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hologramcowboy · 10 months

Note

Just wondering if you have any input/thoughts or have seen/etc on the fandom discourse(re:bullying) that has come/is coming out over the past few days on Twitter; regarding the fan group 'SHAC' and its "BNF" members namely Jaistiel/Valderie/Robin/and a few others in that clique/crew.

Also if you have thoughts/take on the other big discourse right now with some fan trying to ask Misha to essentially 'motorboat' his chest in their photo-op this past con.

I'm not aware of the situation (I don't follow fandom cliques) so I will refrain from commenting but I will say this since someone did send me a screenshot of the intended pose:

Those who thought of that pose, did you, even for a second, stop to consider the emotional wellbeing and comfort level of the actor?

If this is someone that brings you joy on a daily basis, why would you choose a pose that is that violating? Did you ever stop to consider that just as an actor affects you your behaviors also impact them?

Actors are extremely sensitive when it comes to their personal space. That is why, during even the most simple scenes, if any sort of touching is involved it must first be agreed upon by the actors and rehearsed. This is showing respect towards your scene partner and keeping from being violating.

As fans, can you respect the actor that brought you joy by not violating his space, boundaries and identity? Because that's highly important. Those poses you want to impose on them are violating at times. They might not say anything but, trust me, a little piece of their soul dies when you treat them like a piece of meat or a circus animal. Let me emphasize this again: Actors are extremely sensitive when it comes to their boundaries so please be respectful. If you feel true love towards them and not objectification it should be no problem choosing an appropriate, safe pose.

Lastly, if you ever want to be taken seriously by them in real life then please act professionally. Conventions are for fun, yes, but there is such a thing as being sensitive towards the people involved. The more respectful you are in showing your appreciation the more they will truly feel good around you.

I feel like choosing poses like the one you mentioned is just as bad as forcefully trying to project a sexual identity that does not belong to them unto them. It is extremely violating.

Another bad trend I've noticed is claiming fame by proxy simply by attending cons. Unless the paparazzi are at every doorstep you've entered waiting for you to come out, please take a humble pill and act like a balanced human being. I don't mean you, anon, I mean those SPN "stars" that I have no idea what they do in real life but I hope they adopt bigger, healthier ambitions than being known for liking a show and stalking its actors. Because they risk losing themselves in that and missing out on real achievements. Don't hide behind the comfort of false fame to the detriment of your dreams.

I may seem very harsh and I truly am when it comes to invading boundaries of actors. I know how much soul they put into their performances so it is truly heartbreaking to see people treating them like disposable Ken dolls.

#anti fanaticism #fandom critical

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foxgloveblue · 1 year

Text

pale in a liminal moon 🌙 chapter 21

Pairing: Grian/Scar

Tags: selkie AU, steampunk AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Summary: Scar gives a speech.

Words: 2,729

previous chapter || next chapter

ao3 link || masterpost

Maybe it was the lack of apparent time limit, but the crowd seemed to part much easier as Scar made his way to the stage.

The overwhelming cacophony had faded to a dull roar, no more notable than the sound of his own footsteps against the hardwood floor, which was somehow the most audible thing even through the din.

If people were staring at him, Scar didn’t even notice. Couldn’t notice. Certainly couldn’t care. Not about them, the speech, the party – nothing.

The world had become horrible and milquetoast, the most pressing of issues barely even registering to Scar’s sensibilities. Why had he even bothered to put forth this effort? The struggle to get Grian to open up to him, pushing away Doc and Cub and all the others who pried at him for their desires – nether, even this stupid party.

It all just felt so… pointless.

All he could do was let the current take him down the path he had already set for himself. Make the speech as best he could without Grian – he was pretty damn sure that he wasn’t going to show up at this point, but honestly, he was pretty sure he could smooth the whole situation over even without his presence. He had gotten this far in business mostly thanks to his charisma, after all.

Maybe it was better like this, anyway. If he didn’t introduce Grian to his socialite circle properly, there would be less buzz when he… disappeared.

Scar dimly realized that he was ascending the steps to the stage. He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He needed to stay in the moment, mostly so he could just get the whole ordeal over with. Say his piece, grease the wheels, then trudge back to his bedroom where he would be free to spend the rest of the night in miserable contemplation.

Now that he was paying a bit more attention to his surroundings, he could hear that the crowd had fallen largely silent, save for a few murmurs as people no doubt speculated on why he wasn’t emerging from the grand elevator as he always did. It was normally the kind of thing that set him on edge – however, he felt rather detached, making the observation with the kind of disinterest that one might note the day’s temperature.

He made his way to where a podium had been erected on the stage, even complete with the brand-new invention of a microphone. Scar had initially been wary – after all, it rather defeated the need to hone one’s stage voice.

He was grateful for it now. He wasn’t in the mood for projecting.

Scar lifted his gaze, giving a perfunctory glance over the crowd. It was a mishmash of colors – there was plenty of red, but nothing that stood out. Grian could be anywhere in the crowd. Nether, maybe he was already tucked away in some spare bedroom with his lady companion, allowed past by some witless guard.

It didn’t really matter, though. He was sure Grian still remembered everything that was going to be said. He wasn’t missing out on much.

Scar’s gaze fell to the paper that sat on the podium, the entire speech written out in neat, easy-to-read typeset. He had it mostly memorized, though; a long, winding spiel about the good that the supposed marine research facility would do, which carefully avoided too many specific promises. And then, of course, there was the brief aside addressing supposed rumors – confirming that yes, he had married quietly for love, no he would not be taking further questions at this time.

It was easy. All he needed was to just… start talking.

But he was silent.

The murmuring was louder now, the crowd clearly getting restless as long seconds ticked by, agonizingly slow.

All he could do was stare at the paper. The words squirmed on the page, insolent in their insistence. Just give the speech. Just get it over with. Just continue.

… Was that it?

Was he destined to just plod forward, shackled to his own decisions?

Scar glanced up at the crowd again. This time, his eyes managed to land on someone close to the stage, peering up at him with that impish blue mask. It was Cub, waiting silently for his speech.

There was a sudden flash of recognition, slicing through his apathy like a lightning bolt. A vex. Cub was wearing a vex mask.

Cub had always been fascinated by the myths of the vex, kinds of dark fairies that were said to cause mayhem strong enough to topple entire civilizations. He had told Scar about them during their time at university together. At the time, it seemed like a conversation apropos of nothing, but with years of hindsight, Cub’s meaning was suddenly, dizzyingly clear.

Cub hadn’t been interested in the vex as an entity – Scar had no doubt that a well-educated man like himself thought of such tales as nothing more than old-fashioned superstition. He had been interested in them as parables; as inspiration. The two of them were almost like vex themselves – disrupting society, pushing the boundaries of what was thought possible, regardless of the consequences.

And Scar had certainly fit the role. The earlier visions of destruction he had seen a scant few minutes ago, of land and people ripped apart, destroyed by the relentless push of the war machine, could have very well been caused by his weapons. Profit before anything else. Innovation at any cost.

It was… it was a role that Scar hadn’t thought about much. It had been so easy to just climb the ladder – keep feeding the ConCorp machine, letting it grow bigger and bigger. Little by little, Scar had transformed, and now…

Bdubs was right. Scar really had changed. And suddenly, Scar wasn’t sure that he liked the face he saw in the mirror.

Was… was that it? Was Scar just stuck like this?

If Scar was really capable of being a disruptor, couldn’t he change his own path?

Cub had assured him that he, of all people, had the power and prestige to shape his own destiny. That he was a mover, a shaker. And he had certainly changed – even in his wildest teenage dreams, he never would’ve imagined himself in the social position he held now.

He had already done the impossible. Why couldn’t he do it again?

Scar reached out to his speech, holding the paper in both hands. He carefully considered the dancing words, one last time.

And then he crumpled the paper, tossing it carelessly behind him.

There was scattered laughter among the crowd, though Scar could hear an edge of nervousness to it. No doubt people were starting to think he had completely lost it.

That was fine by him. Scar grinned – his real, lopsided grin, crooked and wild. Not the practiced smile for socialites. This was for him.

“Good evening, my esteemed guests.” Scar’s voice echoed unnaturally throughout the great hall, electrically amplified through the speakers. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I do apologize for the delay in schedule, though I’m sure many of you were having too much fun to notice.”

Another titter of laughter, this time much more relaxed. Scar didn’t release his wild grin.

“I’m sure many of you are eager to return to the festivities, but before you do…” Scar leaned forward, hands gripping the sides of the podium tight enough that he heard the wood creak under his fingertips. “I have a question for you. If you would please, I want to ask you this; what is the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen?”

There was a long moment of silence. Scar could see some people murmur amongst themselves; whether they were discussing the question at hand or simply what Scar was doing, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m not going to pretend that among a crowd this big, there’s some kind of universal theme. I’m sure many of you thought of natural landscapes, but I’m also sure that just as many thought of man-made spaces – grand churches, universities, palaces, any other structure designed to dazzle the senses. Perhaps a few of you have gone so far as to flatter me by thinking of one of my designs.” There was some scattered laughing at that, but most of the crowd remained silent, seeming to hang on his every word. He had them hooked.

Scar continued on. “Some of you may have thought of an exotic local, visited during a grand adventure, while others will have recalled a simple, safe place, remembered fondly from your childhood. There are infinite beautiful places, suited to infinitely different tastes – each one unique and precious.

“The reason I bring this up is one that many of you have no doubt already figured out. The theme of tonight’s party is based on the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen – a place that I’m sure very few of you have seen in its entire grandeur. A kelp forest. An entire underwater city, a scant dozen meters into our own Cambrian ocean. Every facet of this place is alive, from the long, golden reeds of seaweed, to the incredible diversity of creatures that make it their home, and even to the water itself, blooming with an indescribable amount of microorganisms that are naked to our eyes, but nevertheless essential.

“When I first saw this kelp forest, I immediately knew it was the most wonderful place I’d ever seen. And dear guests, I’ve seen some beautiful things in my lifetime. Being the founder of HEP has made me privy to some of the strangest and most spectacular landscapes that Earth has to offer. But something I have failed to consider until this point is why. Why does this place, above all others, hold a special place in my heart?”

Scar took a long, deep breath. “The answer, I believe, is connection. Someone very… very near to me showed me this place, this place so very close to him. I was allowed to be there, in a very literal sense. I was allowed in.

“Dear guests, I guarantee that there is some element of connection to each and every place you thought of. Maybe you were taking a trip with your loved ones, maybe you felt a connection to the architects or artists that created that space, maybe it’s a place of dear memories that you visited as a child. And even if you found this place entirely through your own means, hiking up treacherous mountains and battling the elements entirely by yourself, acting as a true Romantic hero… did you not feel a connection to the land itself? See the wonderful, delicate ecosystems that created this place you so love?”

Scar paused, allowing his words to permeate the air. This time, the crowd was entirely silent, air thick with tension.

“My dear guests, these connections are everything. They allow us to be here tonight – they allow us to live the way we do. Other people make our clothes, weave the fabrics, grow our food, make our carriages, manufacture the very microphone I’m using to talk to you.

“There has always been an emphasis on the greatness of the self, of the wonders that you can produce or experience, but my dear guests – I invite you to remember that each and every one of us is supported by hundreds of thousands of others, and that those thousands are supported by the land itself, the wonderful bounty of the Earth.

“I’m not going to stand here and claim that I’ve always had this figured out. In fact, my focus on what I could accomplish has led me to make a very big mistake.” Scar gestured towards the ceiling, where the streamers of silk hung limply, unmoving in the still air. “I love the kelp forest, this underwater landscape, so unlike anything I had ever seen before. So I wanted it to be mine.

“I wanted to take it here, to show all of you the power that I felt that day. But this? This shadow of something beautiful, something perfect? I hate it. I thought the problem was in the details – maybe if I changed the lighting I would be happy, maybe if I added statues, maybe, maybe, maybe… but I never got there. And now I know why. The devil was never in the details – it was in what this place represents. My foolish attempt to own something that was never mine to begin with.”

Scar clasped his hands together. They were clammy, a slight tremor betraying his nerves. But his voice remained strong.

“So tonight, dear guests, I ask of you not just to think of the beautiful places of the world – I ask of you to consider everything that makes those places possible. This world does not belong to you – or to me, or to the human race. It belongs to us. The royal family, the chimney sweeps, the great lions, the tiniest tadpoles; even the creatures we have not yet fully come to understand. This world is ours, and it is precious. So I ask of you to put aside your pride – something that I have been struggling to do myself.

“All donations made during this gala will go towards the grasslands restoration project. A dormant, parasitic mycelium was released after aggressive industrialization on the west Cambrian coast, destroying centuries of natural history and killing off much of the wildlife. HEP has already made great progress towards removing the excess mycelium, but we need one last push so we can restore balance to an ecosystem that we have disrupted. Any and all donations are greatly appreciated by both myself and the fantastic current director of HEP, Mr. Xisuma.”

The chatter amongst the reporters was growing louder by the moment, but Scar pushed onwards – he couldn’t lose momentum now.

“I must also ask of you one last thing, dear guests. I must ask your forgiveness, because I am no longer speaking to you, but to one man in particular.”

Scar took a deep, slow breath, exhaling all of the air out of his lungs in a controlled gust. This was it. This was the point of no return.

His previous deviations were easily explained away as the changing whims of an eccentric, wealthy man – an assessment that wasn’t even inaccurate, if a bit simplified.

But what he wanted to say now… it would ruin him. Likely destroy his reputation entirely, feeding the flames of rumor when he was supposed to be putting them out.

Moreover, his entire life would irreversibly change course, and not for the better. He no doubt stood to lose far, far more than he would ever gain.

And yet, the alternative idea – that he would continue down the path he had so cruelly set for himself, for others – he could no longer stand it. He had to put someone other than himself first.

“To the man that has shown me so much, opened himself up and graced me with his presence and wit, his sharp tongue and incorrigible sense of humor. I want to… I want to thank you. The connection we share is by far the most precious thing I’ve ever experienced. I would give up everything I own to relive that day at the beach house with you.

“But I see now the error of this way of thinking. The nature of the connection between us – it’s not something that can be bought or bartered for. I have taken something that was not meant to be taken, only freely given.

“G… I love you. And therefore, I let you go.”

The chatter from before erupted into a frenzy of voices, each clamoring to be heard above the sudden, rushing din. The reporters surged forward, practically screaming out questions, notebooks thrust into the air as if begging for tithes.

And yet, Scar barely heard any of it. Because with his final words, something happened.

The entire crowd dimmed and faded away, what was once an impossible, roiling mass of color and noise turning into nothing more than a soft gray backdrop. Scar’s eyes cast across the grand hall, instinctually drawn towards something, somewhere –

At the very back. So far away that Scar shouldn’t be able to see at all, but he could, somehow.

A deep red cloak. Gray and silver mask. Impossibly dark eyes.

Grian was calling him.

#scarian #hermitshipping #hermitshipblr #hermitcraft fanfic #pialm #my art #my writing

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