Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls
Jan. 14th, 2026 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravensilversea Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Relationship: Dan Heng/March 7th/Stelle
Rating: T
Tags: Canon Compliant, Slice of Life, Fluff, Established Relationship, Painting, Nude Modeling, Suggestive Themes
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polyamships Polyam Shipping Day: Inspire
Summary: Stelle and March have arranged Dan Heng on the window seat. They have posed him to best take advantage of the light from the moon they're orbiting and draped him in sheer fabric, and all he has to do is sit still and look pretty. He's more than happy to oblige.
Ao3
“Hmm.”
“Hmm.”
Dan Heng once again lifts his gaze from the book he’s been ‘reading’. His partners stare at Stelle’s canvas with matching scrunched-up faces of perturbed concentration, March’s tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth while Stelle sucks her bottom lip. Their eyes look at him, then back to the canvas, then back to him.
“Did you move?” March leans back and rests her fists on her hips.
He raises an eyebrow. “Does it look like I’ve moved?” He flares his free hand open in the direction of the sheer cream fabric artfully draped over his shoulder and across his lap. It’s the only thing he’s moved aside from turning the pages of his book, and he hasn’t even done that for a while. Too captivated by the movement of Stelle’s paint brush and the streak of crimson that has somehow smeared across March’s nose. “I believe I was instructed not to on ‘pain of death’?”
Stelle hums again. The paintbrush briefly presses against canvas once more. “I don’t think he’s the who’s moved,” she says. Tapping March’s elbow, she points past Dan Heng to the window.
“Ooohh. Hmm, yeah that is a problem.” Ah, the fiery moon behind him must have orbited out of sight and taken its light with it. March cradles her chin between thumb and forefinger. Then, she throws her hands in the air before resting them on her hips again. “Ugh, why can’t we just keep the planets from moving!”
“Because that would be a violation of physics and indicative of some kind of disaster,” Dan Heng says. Arguably, it’s within their power , he tries not to think. The Stellaron beating within Stelle’s chest certainly has the power to manifest just such a disaster, but no matter how much he’ll do to please his partners, he likes to think he draws the line at planetwide catastrophe. Surely he’s learned from Dan Feng’s mistakes after all.
Stelle sets her palette and brush down on the table beside her. “It’s a shame,” she says with a shrug. “We’ll just have to wait for it to come around again I guess.”
The moon’s orbit around it’s planet lasts several days, Dan Heng remembers. It would be difficult to lay everything out again just as it is now. He catches the thoughtful look passing over Stelle’s face and deadpans, “Even I suffer from such mortal frailties as hunger, sleep, and a need for the bathroom.”
“Hmm, I’m sure we could manage,” Stelle says with a wink and a playful smirk.
“Or,” March sing-songs. She skips over to the window seat they’ve set Dan Heng on and steps up onto an empty spot between his legs. Dan Heng can’t help but follow her foot, standing on the tips of pink-painted toes, all the way up her smooth leg and skirts to the tongue sticking out of her mouth again as she reaches for the fairy lights strung above.
She’s beautiful. The soft white light shines on her ice pink hair, glitters in her eyes. He almost doesn’t hear the controls clicking until the lights begin cycling through their colors until they land on an orange-red that almost matches the moon’s light.
With a bright grin, March spins to face Stelle, throwing her arms in the air with a “Tada! Let there be light!” She bounces off the window seat and turns to press a kiss against the swell of Dan Heng’s cheek. “A treat for our handsome muse!”
With a faint rumble of pleasure deep in his chest, Dan Heng smiles. “Where else would I be?” he asks softly.
“Buried in archival backlog and forgetting to sleep.” Stelle’s grin is toothy but just as bright as March’s. Scooping her palette back up, she spins her paintbrush in hand. A speck of pain lands in her hair, a spot of red in the sea of gray.
“I do have a stack of writings to upload into the archives,” he muses. “I don’t suppose either of you would be willing to lend me a hand with that later?”
March sighs theatrically leaning against Stelle’s shoulder. “I guess.”
“Especially if you make it worth our while.” Wolfish golden eyes stare at him from around the canvas. “I mean, all we asked you to do was sit still and look pretty after all. You’re asking to put us to work.”
Memories of the last time he asked them for help with the archives float through Dan Heng’s mind in a whirlwind of kisses, gasps, and scattered clothing. “I think I might have an idea or two,” he all but purrs.
Relationship: Dan Heng/March 7th/Stelle
Rating: T
Tags: Canon Compliant, Slice of Life, Fluff, Established Relationship, Painting, Nude Modeling, Suggestive Themes
polyamships Polyam Shipping Day: Inspire Summary: Stelle and March have arranged Dan Heng on the window seat. They have posed him to best take advantage of the light from the moon they're orbiting and draped him in sheer fabric, and all he has to do is sit still and look pretty. He's more than happy to oblige.
Ao3
“Hmm.”
“Hmm.”
Dan Heng once again lifts his gaze from the book he’s been ‘reading’. His partners stare at Stelle’s canvas with matching scrunched-up faces of perturbed concentration, March’s tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth while Stelle sucks her bottom lip. Their eyes look at him, then back to the canvas, then back to him.
“Did you move?” March leans back and rests her fists on her hips.
He raises an eyebrow. “Does it look like I’ve moved?” He flares his free hand open in the direction of the sheer cream fabric artfully draped over his shoulder and across his lap. It’s the only thing he’s moved aside from turning the pages of his book, and he hasn’t even done that for a while. Too captivated by the movement of Stelle’s paint brush and the streak of crimson that has somehow smeared across March’s nose. “I believe I was instructed not to on ‘pain of death’?”
Stelle hums again. The paintbrush briefly presses against canvas once more. “I don’t think he’s the who’s moved,” she says. Tapping March’s elbow, she points past Dan Heng to the window.
“Ooohh. Hmm, yeah that is a problem.” Ah, the fiery moon behind him must have orbited out of sight and taken its light with it. March cradles her chin between thumb and forefinger. Then, she throws her hands in the air before resting them on her hips again. “Ugh, why can’t we just keep the planets from moving!”
“Because that would be a violation of physics and indicative of some kind of disaster,” Dan Heng says. Arguably, it’s within their power , he tries not to think. The Stellaron beating within Stelle’s chest certainly has the power to manifest just such a disaster, but no matter how much he’ll do to please his partners, he likes to think he draws the line at planetwide catastrophe. Surely he’s learned from Dan Feng’s mistakes after all.
Stelle sets her palette and brush down on the table beside her. “It’s a shame,” she says with a shrug. “We’ll just have to wait for it to come around again I guess.”
The moon’s orbit around it’s planet lasts several days, Dan Heng remembers. It would be difficult to lay everything out again just as it is now. He catches the thoughtful look passing over Stelle’s face and deadpans, “Even I suffer from such mortal frailties as hunger, sleep, and a need for the bathroom.”
“Hmm, I’m sure we could manage,” Stelle says with a wink and a playful smirk.
“Or,” March sing-songs. She skips over to the window seat they’ve set Dan Heng on and steps up onto an empty spot between his legs. Dan Heng can’t help but follow her foot, standing on the tips of pink-painted toes, all the way up her smooth leg and skirts to the tongue sticking out of her mouth again as she reaches for the fairy lights strung above.
She’s beautiful. The soft white light shines on her ice pink hair, glitters in her eyes. He almost doesn’t hear the controls clicking until the lights begin cycling through their colors until they land on an orange-red that almost matches the moon’s light.
With a bright grin, March spins to face Stelle, throwing her arms in the air with a “Tada! Let there be light!” She bounces off the window seat and turns to press a kiss against the swell of Dan Heng’s cheek. “A treat for our handsome muse!”
With a faint rumble of pleasure deep in his chest, Dan Heng smiles. “Where else would I be?” he asks softly.
“Buried in archival backlog and forgetting to sleep.” Stelle’s grin is toothy but just as bright as March’s. Scooping her palette back up, she spins her paintbrush in hand. A speck of pain lands in her hair, a spot of red in the sea of gray.
“I do have a stack of writings to upload into the archives,” he muses. “I don’t suppose either of you would be willing to lend me a hand with that later?”
March sighs theatrically leaning against Stelle’s shoulder. “I guess.”
“Especially if you make it worth our while.” Wolfish golden eyes stare at him from around the canvas. “I mean, all we asked you to do was sit still and look pretty after all. You’re asking to put us to work.”
Memories of the last time he asked them for help with the archives float through Dan Heng’s mind in a whirlwind of kisses, gasps, and scattered clothing. “I think I might have an idea or two,” he all but purrs.
