#yingren.

[cloudhymn]

look. it’s us. 🌳 🪨

in between the third and fourth rib. a clean cut through the lower thyroid artery. lan, he was going to strangle this man with his bare hands.

[ id : r*n. ]

mssg : oh, okay.

mssg : let me try.

mssg : 🍴🔌⚡️

mssg : so cute, right ?

[altarfates]

❛  you  don’t  love  me ?  ❜ / i lied this one is for df

There is no answer benign enough to not carve open ren’s skin, hands slick with cruor as he sought to exhume him, convinced he was cowering beneath it, nestled alongside the affliction dan feng had condemned him to. neither of them balk before the cruelty exclusive to their aberrant connection, their penchant for hurting one another oscillating between deliberate and unintentional. that is why he can admit it uninhibited, going as far as to resolutely hold his gaze, submerging himself beneath that volatile, crimson tide and thrusting cloud piercer through him; no, that too would have been too merciful. ❝ I love you.❞ he recites it as if it were a mantra yet the absence of fondness, that dark, cavernous void that had once prospered with it, transforms it into apathy, as if the high elder were merely stating a condition he found himself burdened with. his hand rises to rest against ren’s cheek, lithe fingers cradling his face with an indifference that belied his devotion to the man standing before him. with his next admission, their mouths so close that it was a shared breath, almost despicable enough to dare to kiss him, all he intended to do is twist in the blade he had slid between ren’s ribs. ❝ but not as I did him, never as I did him.❞

[altarfates]

@yingren Dan Heng was observant, as a film-student, a diligent one at that, it was his prerogative to appreciate the subtle nuances of expression. Right now — Ren was bristling with what he inferred to be jealousy. Because they had worked so close together, as subject and producer, he had come to recognize how that looked on him. It means that as their gazes meet, before even a single penguin is launched belligerently across the room, Dan Heng already knew what was bothering Ren. The most frustrating part then must be that Ren, an actor who impressed even him, which was not a feat many achieved, couldn’t or didn’t want to acknowledge it. He almost dodges the first assailant, glancing at him in reprimand before his expression shifts, apologetic, as he leans down to pick it up. As someone who favors being decisive, communicating his thoughts sometimes at the detriment to others, this ambiguous anger has no place looming over him straight after curfew. It had taken much discretion to even make it back to the dorm without being severely admonished if not punished for arriving late. Ren, seeing that those who should be doing this job are totally inept, has decided to take it upon himself to see those punishments mete. ❝ you’re still awake.❞ he comments, taking a moment to run his lithe fingers through the penguin’s fluff, like it might brush away some lingering dust. If it were the penguins he was choosing as his arsenal, firing a fusillade of both which generally resided atop his neatly made bed, it meant he was not only restless but, at some point, may have even been disturbing the pristine side of the room that belong to Dan Heng. It wasn’t explicitly stated that Ren couldn’t, nor did he entirely deter him now, in fact, there was something compelling about it. Not unlike those matching penguins Ren inexplicably belonged in the places Dan Heng wanted him to, the alcoves of a industrious student’s life that could still somehow become accommodating if he decided it so. Momentarily enthralled by the idea of Ren’s legs languidly sprawled across his bed he almost misses the second penguin as it collides with his thigh before miserably tumbling to the carpet. ❝whatever has pissed you off this time, don’t take it out on them.❞ 

But Ren has all but ignored him now, opting to roll onto his back and stare, disinterested, as the wads of blue-tack that had once adorned their ceiling with a galaxy of luminous plastic stars. He liked them, even if it was childish. Then his grievances are finally aired, impatience making his tone clipped, dark brows furrowed until shadows eclipse his long, dark lashes and alluring eyes. Dan Heng understands now, the origins of the envy that delineated Ren as something captivating, a kinetic disquiet brewing beneath his skin, like it was taking restraint not to do something about this. ❝— He’s a classmate.❞ he says brusquely, finally deciding it was time to return the penguins to their rightful place, sitting on the edge of his bed with Ren’s penguin still perched precariously in his lap. Its dark, beady eyes were censorious as they peered across the room at Ren.  ❝ Since when is it your responsibility to decide who I see ? ❞ he hadn’t intended for it to come out hostile but it had. Was it frustration derived from his junior’s blatant disregard for their curfew, or was it because Ren outright refused to acknowledge the reasons why he was getting so irate. For someone who had such a comprehensive understanding of emotions from behind a camera Dan Heng still ended up speaking and acting as if he were just as ignorant as he thought Ren was. ❝ You shouldn’t bully the first-years.❞  Now that his gaze has joined the penguins, resting on his roommate’s disgruntled expression, it seems he’s set on antagonizing him. Even though he was the one to arrive late, unannounced and seemingly indifferent. ❝ It won’t look good if they want to eventually cast you for a role.❞ 

[altarfates]

[ 📱 -> dan heng not dan feng apparently ] miss u 😔☮️✌️🫛

[ 📲. your location is being broadcasted to the appropriate legal channels please consider yourself blocked and reported have a redacted day ]

[cloudhymn]

cleaning isn’t exactly his favorite activity, though he’s heard plenty of times that it can be calming or even therapeutic. if that isn’t bullshit, ren doesn’t know what is. still, he gets through a fair bit of it, clearing out a room that, frankly, doesn’t have much in it anyway. this time, he comes across an old creation of his. it’s no secret that dan heng doesn’t trust him, and ren can’t say he’s too bothered by it; it’s only natural after everything they’ve endured, or, really, everything ren put him through, if he’d ever admit to that. part of him holds onto a quiet resentment for some aspect of dan heng that feels almost nonexistent now, but he still finds an irrational drive to be angry at him for any new reason he can invent. hypocritical as ever, ren feels annoyed whenever the archivist suggests this is all some elaborate scheme to prolong his demise, as if this isn't hard for both of them.

he’d call dan heng an idiot if he didn’t feel like one himself.

wrapped in a page torn from a newspaper lies a small gray dreamcatcher, handwoven and decorated with a few smooth pieces of stained glass, iridescent pearls and a single sage-green feather. ren would rather face a thousand deaths again than admit how long it took him to make this. by now, it must be at least two centuries old. it’s hardly a neatly wrapped gift, with just a simple yellow post-it attached. he leaves it on the dresser in dan heng’s room on the final night of their latest mission together.

“ a long time ago on a mission of my own i ran into a place where the locals firmly believed these to trap bad dreams and spare you from them. it’s a bit of a late and ironic thing to receive, i suppose. i’d rather not throw away something i’ve made but i’ve found no need for it as of late. you may do whatever, it’s yours now. ”

at the height of his career, anything that deigned to pass through the famous furnace master’s hands was deemed a priceless treasure, even if he hadn’t made the instrument himself. the tools at his disposal, once discarded, were worth priceless amounts, especially by the people outside of the xianzhou luofu. one could only imagine the great value of his creations, from throwaway pieces made of fraying thoughts to great feats of artistry the luofu, the cosmos, had never known before. and after, when yingxing had been dubbed an accomplice to the great sinner, an infamous criminal in his own right well ... the value of all his creations had only dectupled in value.

dan feng, at the time, with little worldly knowledge of these material goods, had cared little for yingxing’s presents insurmountable value, only that they were precious because they were from yingxing, and not worth the cost of his health. the archivist examined the gift now, beautiful, exquisite craftsmanship in his hands, and felt that familiar sense of worry, especially knowing the state of ren’s hands. how long had this project taken ? and how often did he feel the urge to bite through the pain, for a fleeting chance to create instead of destroy ? there was admiration there, welling, beside the thinly veiled disdain dan heng was finding it harder and harder to keep up.

the nightmares of ren’s hunt hadn’t faded completely yet, but maybe this was another way to make amends. dan heng neither acknowledged nor discarded the gift ( though he did hover over ren’s contact for half an hour or so ) but when next the stellaron hunter entered dan heng’s room he’d find the gift secured to the wall, hovering over, almost guarding the sleep space lined with blankets and old tomes. maybe this, in itself, was another form of reconciliation ; a piece of ren making home where dan heng felt safest.

@yingren.