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#it was nice remembering this fic

keithsandwich · 4 months

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I wish you would write a fic where... You go into Keith's perspective when he meets Maeve. It'd be cool to see how he views her.

Hey, love!! Thank you so much for this idea! I already have this one for the AU longfic I have for them (currently in hiatus, I need to give it more attention... And maybe post it here?).

Anyway, hope you don't mind it that it's already written! I'm putting the excerpts from when both meet her for the first time under the cut.

Her green eyes shone like emeralds, framed by long, dark eyelashes. Between her worried eyebrows, a black crescent moon was painted — the mark of a priestess, although he’d never seen it in black. Her hair was a combination of braids and loose waves, highlighting the captivating eyes. She leaned in close, whispering urgently unintelligible sounds, but Keith ignored them and reached out to touch a strand of her hair. It felt soft, nice and fragrant, and he smiled maliciously, but she caught his wrist and frowned. Her cheeks flushed with a sweet rose color, freckles dotting her skin. His smile widened.

"If you keep looking at me like this… I might have to devour… you… whole…"

He used his last bit of energy to say it, his voice fading with those last words, as his conscience slipped away.

A stinging pain woke Keith up from his slumber. He instinctively tried to sit up and shove the source of the pain away, but a small hand landed on his bare chest, keeping him in place.

"Don't move," the woman warned him, her green eyes locking at his for a moment before sliding down again to his abdomen.

The crescent moon on her forehead… Was she a Caisteal na Sí’s physician? But…

His mind overflowed with confusion. He was used to waking up in all sorts of situations, usually awkward, embarrassing, or just troublesome ones, but most of the time he could at least tell where he was. And most of the time his body felt unharmed. Maybe with a hangover or just worn out, but definitely not like this. They shared the same body after all, and while he could humiliate him, he wouldn't try to kill themselves. Still, he felt physically terrible, as if he had been trampled and was sore throughout his body. But the stinging pain on his left side was excruciating, as if the priestess was ripping him open.

And as his eyes roamed through the room, he realized this place simply couldn't be in the high and bright Caisteal na Sí. The dark stone walls were illuminated by a small fireplace emitting crackling sounds. Some gray vines were growing from small openings underneath the wooden roof. The room looked tiny, tables held old books, herbs, apothecary jars and tools. He recognized his sword laid on top of a chest, along with his bloodied shirt and jacket. The open window let the dark foliage of the trees be seen, and a night sky smoothly illuminated by bright stars. Everything was simple and somehow cozy. The bed where he was lying wasn't the softest one, but it was warm and smelled of rosemary and some kind of flower.

"Relax," the priestess spoke again softly, and Keith realized she was holding a needle with a thread that was connected to his body. He shuddered and finally realized he had been gasping for air and sweating all along. She placed the needle to the side and reached for a bottle of green liquid. "Here, take this. This will numb the pain."

She gently touched the back of his neck, and he let her lift his head up, his lost eyes searching hers as he opened his mouth without thinking, a natural response to her placing the bottle against his lips. As she tilted the bottle and slowly poured the liquid, he felt the strong and hot taste of alcohol invading his senses and got startled, choking immediately and making her patiently hold the bottle away.

"I'm sorry… I…" he tried to talk between the coughing, his voice hoarse and difficult, and the pain on his abdomen making everything harder. "I'm so sorry, I don't think I… should drink… You know, alcohol…" His hands tried to gesticulate, but a shooting feeling in his left wrist caused them to halt.

"The spirits are good to soothe the pain,” her eyes widened with his refusal, as if she couldn’t fathom what was wrong with drinking alcohol. Then she sighed, and her tone became more compassionate. “And I know you’re in a lot of pain.”

He felt a tinge of warmth in his chest, which made him feel even more conflicted about the situation. Yes, the pain was almost unbearable, but what if he got drunk and lost the hold of himself? The stranger was being so gentle and innocent; maybe growing up in Néart made her oblivious to the effects alcohol could have. In that case, the guilt of saying, or worse, doing something inappropriate to her would be harder to bear than the pain.

"I just don't think it's safe to drink something so strong… while alone with a woman. I don't want to disrespect you." Keith looked away, incapable of facing her while saying those words. Silence prevailed between them, however, and he had to face her again to see if she had at least reacted to his statement. But the only difference he noticed on her features was a soft blush on her cheeks. Oh . He knew it. It was obvious he had already done something rude to her. He wished he could disappear from her sight. "I’m sorry… I already did, didn't I? I’m deeply sorry…"

Much to his surprise, the priestess gave the briefest of chuckles, and when he looked at her again her lips curled in a soft smile.

"Foolishness, don’t apologize for things you haven’t said yourself." Her words visibly confounded him. What did she mean by that? Did she… know? No, he couldn’t have been there for so long as to her figuring it out, and he wouldn’t simply say anything. Right? "Your loss of blood, your mind wasn’t really there, was it?" She elaborated, as to answer his silent questions.

The woman moved a little closer, so he couldn’t avoid looking straight into her eyes, and with a serious tone she said: "Listen, you’re hurt and vulnerable. If you do anything disrespectful I know exactly where to hit you."

The cold glass of the bottle touched his lips again, and again he obediently parted them, but this time Keith let himself swallow the strong liquid, and it burned like fire in his throat. He couldn’t even register the taste of it. It probably had herbs in it, given its green color, but the alcohol was so strong it stole away any other possible flavors of the liquor.

Her words still resonated in his mind. He was wrong deeming her defenseless. He didn’t know the first thing about her to pass that judgment. He was so embarrassed… again. Although, as the liquor numbed his mind and the heat rose tingly to his face that thought started to blur and lose its importance.

When she thought he had enough, the priestess put the bottle away and suddenly he felt her piercing him again with the needle. It was still uncomfortable and he groaned with the feeling, but as time passed he realized he was feeling less and less of that. Until it felt like nothing. Keith was floating in a sea of nothingness and he softly giggled.

He could disappear without resorting to him, after all.

[...]

The morning was filled with the cheerful songs of birds.

Keith snapped awake, his body suffused with warmth. As his eyes adjusted to the daylight streaming through the window, he noticed that his hand lay outside the blankets, tightly cradled in the delicate hand of the priestess. The warmth from her touch seemed to radiate through his skin, making his hand feel even warmer. Keith wondered how his hand had come to be entwined with the priestess' and why it felt so comforting.

The tide of confusing thoughts invaded Keith's mind again as he looked at her. She was sleeping with her upper body on the bed beside him, her face so close to their hands that he could feel her slow and paced breathing on his fingers. However, she was awkwardly sitting on a chair at the side of the bed, and Keith felt overwhelmed with guilt. He could sense the discomfort the priestess was enduring because of him, and it made him desperately want to get up and tuck her under the blankets where she was supposed to be, not him. But if he moved, she would wake up. Keith remembered the state of his body from the previous night and wondered if he was even capable of getting up at all.

He was such a failure.

And still, Keith felt an almost irresistible desire to move his hand and touch her flushed face. Her soft and warm skin seemed to beckon to him, but he knew he didn't deserve it, nor the comfort of her hand, or the trouble she had gone through to care for his wounds. Instead of reaching for her, his hand retracted, carefully sliding out of her grip. He silently prayed that the priestess wouldn't wake up from this motion.

The smooth tilt of his body to the side was a signal of his usual failure. The priestess slowly lifted her head, her heavy eyelashes fluttering as she blinked multiple times before finally opening her puffy eyes wide with a start. She was obviously tired, and it was his fault. In silence, she scanned Keith's face attentively before stretching and yawning casually.

His heart raced in his chest watching that intimate gesture, and to make matters worse, she smiled kindly at him.

"Good morning! Sorry I had to hold your hand. You were trying to pick at your stitches while sleeping, and I didn't want you to accidentally hurt yourself." She said nonchalantly, her voice hoarse from the slumber.

"Good morning, ah…" Keith said, trying to sit up. "I… I'm sorry I've been putting you in so much trouble."

The priestess promptly got on her feet to help, supporting his wounded left side. Her touch was like a half-hug, and he felt himself flushing all the way up to his ears.

"It's so embarrassing," Keith continued, ignoring the ache in his body. "Even when apologizing about causing you trouble, I just cause more trouble."

"Don't worry so much," she said, and their glances crossed quickly. He thought he saw her getting flustered too, but she turned her back and started moving around the hut. "I was trained for things like this. How are you feeling this morning?"

Keith slipped off the blankets and let his feet touch the floor. On closer inspection, he seemed like a mess. His white trousers were smeared with dirt and blood, ripped near his knees where lacerations on his skin were visible through the fabric. His arms were covered in bruises and scratches, and his wrist was wrapped in cloth from the sprain. The wound on his side looked worse than he had imagined, and he shuddered at the sight. Then he finally realized he wasn't wearing his shirt and felt embarrassed to be exposed in front of her now that it was no longer necessary. How rude… He quickly got up, feeling a little dizzy, but tried to hide it so as not to worry her.

"I'm… feeling better, thanks to your efforts…" he reached for his shirt, numbly dragging it on despite the lingering soreness. "I don't know how to repay you. You… you saved my life." It wasn't an exaggeration; Keith didn’t know how he ended up in the hut, but given how isolated it seemed, he figured he could have bled to death in the woods. "Oh, you saved my life and I don't even know your name…"

The dizziness washed over his mind along with the shame, and Keith almost stumbled back to the bed. The sudden smell of food made his stomach groan, and he felt somewhat relieved, concluding that the dizziness was probably just due to hunger.

"It's Maeve," she said, as if it wasn't something of importance. He opened his mouth, but no words came out when he realized she wasn't looking at him. Instead, she was focused on stoking the fire of the fireplace, where a pot was placed to heat up. She continued, "You don't have to repay me, Your Highness. I'm… fulfilling my duty as a sworn priestess of Jade."

[...]

#💖💖💖#thank you so much oliver!!!#it was nice remembering this fic #even outside my au they would meet in the same circumstances #keith howell #my maeve #ikemen prince #ikepri oc

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killerandhealerqueen · 4 months

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Can I bitch for a second? Like, I just want to understand why, in the past few years, comments and reblogs on fics have gone the fuck down. Like why? What fucking changed?

In 2020 and 2021, I used to get comments all the time on almost all my fics and now it's like...I'm lucky to get any. I also know that I write for small fandoms so like, that's a contributing factor, but still. Even with my latest multichapter fic, there are no subscriptions. Like, everything has just gone down.

And while I realize that the pandemic happened in 2020-2021, the decline has been happening for a while, especially here on tumblr. Comments and reblogs and asks about fics are just...not really a thing anymore.

And people wonder why writers don't wanna continue. Yeah, yeah, that whole thing of write for yourself, we all write for ourselves, lets be honest. We do. But we also want to share our creations with you because that's the whole fucking point of art. You want to share it with others and have them appreciate the work and time you put into it. And we'd like to hear feedback! It's literally not a bad thing to want comments. And people need to stop making writers feel bad for saying they want comments. And reblogs. Likes and kudos are great but they don't do anything. They just tell us that you liked the fic/work. But they don't tell us what you thought, what moved you, what rewired your brain, what made your heart thump or flutter or clench. That's what comments tell us. That's why we want comments. We want to see our fics through your eyes.

Writers shouldn't have to beg for interactions, so please. Reblog and leave comments on fics. Please. It's really the least you could do

#sass rants #i'm sure someone's gonna get pissy with me for this but i don't fucking care #i shouldn't have to fucking beg people to reblog and comment on my stories #it's fucking 2024 people #how about we start acting like a fandom again and start reblogging and commenting on EVERYTHING #from gifsets to art to fanfiction #(of course let's have the comments be nice we don't do rude comments here)#but yeah #start commenting on fics that you like #because the writers you love WILL stop writing after a while if they don't feel appreciated #because we all need to remember that this isn't a full-time job for most of us #so show your favorite writers/gif makers/artists some appreciate and reblog/comment on their shit

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the-kipsabian · 4 months

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wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #i hope this make some sort of coherent sense #despite being a writer im really bad at words lmao #i also dont know what to tag this with without clogging main tags so im going to trust moots to get this going first #just. this is a topic im passionate about. i love writing i love writers and having seen the wrestling fandom as of late really struggling #with this. we need to do something. even a little bit helps. actually get people leaving feedback and commenting again #supporting each other. we can do this together #dont let dreams be dreams lets fucking do this #just be nice and help each other out #im gonna stop now before i get overly emotional. if theres any questions let me know tho i think i got the main parts pretty clear here #again moots. im trusting you to get this started. im not gonna add my own shit here immediately this isnt about me #this is about the community as a whole #i also hope nobody is afraid of adding themselves here. you are all valid and worth the attention no matter what #just remember to also give if you leave something here. look at the previous links. look in the notes to find more people #okay thats it i need to make dinner now #lets just be kind and support one another. promise me that 💜#night is an absolute mess on main

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shelvesofgold · 1 year

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✨hello folks✨

now with zar taking a much needed break from this fandom i thought it would be a great idea to start hyping up some works in this fandom that i feel don’t get enough love !!!

We’re older now, the light is dim by Winter_Oswin

- jegulily w/ background wolfstar

- wip

- an au where james, lily, and regulus come back to life to fix everything that happened post halloween 1981

- the interactions between harry and regulus are legit top tier

take a shot of holy water by pinkpalaceapartments

- wolfstar fleabag au !!

- completed

- background jily

- remus as the hot priest is what we all need fr

Befriending a Ravenclaw by kreestar

- ravenclaw remus au

- wolfstar w/ background jily

- completed

- remus and sirius being stupid pining idiots who are trying their best

I Want To Be Good by mightydolphin

- canon-compliant fic from sirius pov

- completed

- wolfstar w/ background jily & dorlene

- goes on until a bit after prisoner of azkaban

- as a sirius kinnie this fic made me few things™️

The Mapmakers by Dizzy_Bird

- completed & canon-compliant

- literally such a fun read

- a lot of pranks and adventures

- jily & wolfstar are included but a lot more focus is placed on the friendships of the whole group

- just really well-done

A String of Consequences by semistrawberry

- jegulily w/ background wolfstar and dorlene

- as the title implies it is a string of wacky events that lead to both angst and fluff

- completed

- a lot of povs so there are so many different fun character interactions and i love it

Shackle Me by elixersoflife

- wolfstar soulmate au

- also a modern setting au

- completed

- i am literally obsessed w/ this one and i have frankly reread it an healthy amount of times

- another fic that made me, a sirius kinnie

feel things™️

quite like us by alarainai

- jegulus text fic

- modern setting

- great characterizations !!!

- just a vv fun and easy read

- completed

if anyone has any other recs pls feel free to reblog and add to the list !!

#marauders #wolfstar #jegulus #jegulily #jily #dorlene #fic rec #fanfic rec #harry potter #the marauders #bizarrestars #read these instead of being assholes on the internet #and go touch some grass while y’all are at it #give these authors the love they deserve !!!#i also have a friend who is currently writing a marauders fic so i may eventually add that too #remember to kudos and leave some nice comments on these fics !

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exhuastedpigeon · 6 months

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Just a gentle reminder that when you bookmark a fic on AO3 the author can see anything you've tagged or comments you've added. That means the author can see if you bookmarked a fic saying something like 'this fic sucks' or 'read it and hated it'.

I know this might be shocking to hear, but fic writers are people too and seeing one or two rude comments in the bookmarks, even if all the other ones are nice, can ruin someones day and maybe even mean they stop writing.

If you want to add mean comments/comments about what you don't like about a fic, make the bookmark private. It's just a little check box that you click and then no one but you can see that bookmark and any comments you've made.

#fic #fanfic #ao3 #be nice maybe?#i read through 400+ bookmarks with comments on my fics today and 99% were nice or generic #and then there were two that were crazy rude #like things you'd never say to another person in real life rude #so just remember people can see them #and don't be a dick #fandom #fandom etiquette

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salmoncakepls · 2 months

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House inspired Board Game for @iwtvfanevents ' Meal to Remember

Beautiful Art edited from @diasdelfuego and dedicated to the lovely writers of house @dlsintegration @knifeeater @kittyldpdl @nlbv @weather-mood baberainbow

Wanna play at home ?

House the mini game - @iwtvfanevents

Grab 2 of Your Favorite Dice or Use this virtual Dice Roller

Roll em and the first and second number is the chapter you start off on (Unless you Roll a 6 first which in that case it turns into a 0) Example: Figure 1 is 43 (Royal Street Reverie ) Figure 2 is 6 (glass )

The objective of the game is to ride through the haunts and passages of house via dice influence --if you get stuck press your luck and roll again !

#hopefully this renders nicely #if not i will send it to y'all individually if yalld like #a meal to remember #fics #iwtv

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tcfactory · 5 months

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Please imagine:

[5k words of an outline for a big Bingge centric AU, mentioned QiJiu and MoShang and potentially one-sided BingQiJiu. Time travel, fix-it(?)

Warning for canon typical child abuse and torture, mention of sexual abuse, minor mention of cannibalism, Bingge is his own warning let’s be real]

Binghe goes insane from Xin Mo and abandons his humanity completely, then devolves further into a rabid beast until Mobei and the Wives all work together to put him down. Xin Mo is so entangled in him that it can’t exist past its host anymore, so it unleashes all that it has left to prevent Binghe’s death.

That’s when the reset happens.

It’s like coming back from the brink, when your head breaks the water and the dark recedes from the edge of your vision as air fills your lungs. Sanity is a cold thing when surfacing from the depths of madness, but it keeps the warm animal-hunger of bloodlust and beastly instinct on the edges of his consciousness and that’s fine.

He’s a child again when he regains conscious thought, standing in front of the tea set, about to make that first cup of tea for his future Shizun, and he can’t afford to be a beast right now. There’s a part of him that feels different, the parts that Xin Mo devoured alongside his sanity have now been returned to him, soft and squishy and human. It’s strange, coming back to humanity after so long - how long? Decades? Centuries? Time has lost all meaning to a beast that could hunt and breed whenever it pleased.

Binghe doesn’t remember how to make tea. He’s not certain he ever knew at this age, but the beast in him recoils at the memory of scalding tea dumped on his head. He looks around, as subtle as he can, to find something that might help him avoid that. Shen Qingqiu is talking to Ming Fan, rattling off the necessities they need to provide the first new disciple since Ming Fan became head disciple, but Binghe can feel the man’s attention on him. Shen Qingqiu has noticed his hesitation and he’s waiting to see what Binghe is going to do next. There’s no help to be had there.

Ning Yingying lurks around, too curious of the new shidi to stay away, and Shizun indulges her as long as she stays close enough that he can track her. She would know how to make tea. She has always been one of his smartest wives - she made the array that pinned him down and stripped him of fang and claw and poison so Mobei Jun could shove portals under his skin, drain him of his healing blood and finally unmake him.

It was an agonizing way to die. He deserved all of it and more.

When it seems like an opportune moment he quietly asks Yingying shijie how to make tea fit for their Shizun. She pretends to tie his hair for him - shidi can barely see through this fluff, this won’t do, here’s how you tie it properly - and tells him the instructions in a whisper so quiet even he can barely hear it.

Shen Qingqiu notices, of course he does, but he pretends that he doesn’t. The tea is not great, but it’s palatable and Shen Qingqiu drinks all of it while he runs Binghe through the rules of the peak and the expectations placed on a scholarly disciple of Qing Jing. It’s such a jarring difference from the first time when he got sent away right after the tea incident that he can’t help but drift in his chaotically spinning thoughts instead of listening. This is not the kind Shizun, he thinks. So why did the tea make such a big difference? (Years later Yue Qingyuan happily tells him how he blackmailed one of the rich boys into showing him how to make tea for his own peak’s tea ceremony because he didn’t trust the adults enough to ask and couldn’t afford to seem lesser than those of higher birth and Binghe finally Gets It.)

His thoughts are interrupted when Ming Fan arrives and shoves the ‘new disciple care package’ in his arms. Binghe is still not used to being tiny again, so he tries to hold all of it like he would as an adult and can’t, dropping his manual and the writing kit in the process. Yingying immediately hops to pick it all up, scolding their shixiong for bullying the new shidi while Shen Qingqiu watches with a cold mask of indifference.

The manual has fallen open and it gives her pause when she picks it up. “Shizun, I don’t think this manual is right.” Shen Qingqiu says nothing, but he takes it from her and glances at the pages.

Binghe is certain that he’s the only one who notices how Shizun’s hold on the book tightens in anger until his fingers turn white. “It’s an older manual,” he says, neither voice nor expression giving away the rage he must feel to grip the book so tight. Luo Binghe knows even his smallest tells and the man is seething. “Go to the library pavilion and pick up the proper edition for your shidi. Dismissed!”

It’s a few days later when Binghe is trying to find a good spot in the library to practice his calligraphy - he knows how to write, in theory, but he forgot so many of these mundane little rituals in his madness that he needs to refresh the memory - when he walks into the range of a silencing array. It’s obviously a fluke that it extends into the corridor, but if Binghe puts his ear to the wall he can clearly hear Shen Qingqiu rage at his hallmasters and the head of the library pavilion because of the manual. The fake, harmful cultivation manual, one of many that have ruined and killed lonely disciples before, the ones who didn’t have friends or other support to notice that something was wrong.

Manuals Shen Qingqiu has ordered removed and destroyed when he became peak lord. Orders that the hallmasters ignored. Does Peak Lord Shen think they have the time to waste on something like this when the peak is already short staffed? There are more important parts of the collection to maintain than the beginner manuals - the only ones who would ever fall prey to the false manuals anyway are the charity cases, and they are not the ones who fund the scholarly peak. Really, this wouldn’t even be an issue at all if Shen Qingqiu didn’t let Liu Qingge goad him into taking on a dirty beggar child. Don’t they all know that things crawling in the dirt are never worth the trouble? Once filth, always filth.

Luo Binghe is almost bowled over when Shen Qingqiu storms out of the meeting, blind to his environment. The man’s qi roils, razor sharp like shattered glass, his anger driving him to the cusp of a qi deviation. Binghe has a hunch that whatever this is about, it’s not about him. Shizun would not be so angry on his behalf.

He could never figure out why the man mistreated him, could never break Shen Qingqiu open enough to get the answer he needed. This feels like an opportunity, a chance to unravel this puzzle, and it tickles his instincts to have something to chase, to press his nose to the trail and hunt.

So he starts to sniff around. People overlook children so easily, it’s almost effortless how he finds piece after piece. He learns that the people on the peak - the cultivators from his generation in particular, the pavilion overseers and the hallmasters - don’t respect Shen Qingqiu and often undermine his authority when he’s not there to personally force them to adhere to his standards. There’s an especially tense period every time after the Peak Lord leaves for the city - for the brothel, they say, to drown in his lust or to use some hapless girl as a cauldron and bolster his own mediocre cultivation - when they seem especially bold, holding his indulgence over his head like a finely balanced sword.

He learns from Yingying that he’s the first disciple to get into the peak through the selection for the last decade. All the other disciples are young masters and scholarly prodigies who come recommended by their mentors. They don’t need their Shizun’s encouragement to try and bully Binghe, even when he’s not rolling over like he did in his first life. He fights back, tooth and nail, a rabid little thing that leaves scratches and bruises on anyone who would provoke him and he doesn’t have to worry about sleeping in the woodshed because more often than not the dormitory overseers isolate him from the others as a form of punishment.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t interfere. He looks with the same disdain at both perpetrators and victim, bruised black and blue, and forbids them from leaving the peak until they are presentable again. It’s not until a particularly bad fight when Binghe takes a bite out of one of them, digging his teeth into a soft cheek and swallowing both the bloody chunk and the screams of terror with dark satisfaction, that Shizun’s hand is forced. Binghe is thrown into solitary confinement until the boy’s parents can come and demand fitting punishment for permanently disfiguring the rich brat. Binghe is grateful for these few days of isolation. He needs them to shackle the instincts screaming for blood, to calm his demon side that’s straining against his seals. It wasn’t like this the first time, but he came back as a beast in a boy’s skin so it’s not surprising.

He puts on the face of a lamb when they lead him outside, to the cold morning light and then to the punishment hall. The boy’s parents - a high-ranking official in the mortal Emperor’s court and his lady wife - look at him like he’s less than dirt, but there’s a glint of cruel satisfaction in their eyes when the stone faced Shen Qingqiu announces his punishment: by their demand, Binghe is to receive ten lashes with the discipline whip, or fewer if he passes out.

The Sect Leader came to oversee the punishment and the horror on his gentle face is obvious to all. The disciple whip is a cruel thing, one that can cripple even advanced cultivators, and will set Binghe’s cultivation back by years if it doesn’t ruin it altogether. The Sect Leader gives Shen Qingqiu a pleading look and Binghe lifts his head to tell him not to bother - when could Yue Qingyuan ever influence Shen Qingqiu for the better? - so he catches the Sect Leader’s expression when Shen Qingqiu flicks the case open and takes out the whip. Just for a moment, his expression flickers into surprise, then relief, before it turns into a blank mask. Binghe has no time to ponder what the hell that is about, because Shen Qingqiu swings the whip with the ease and confidence of practice and the line of fire down his back startles a scream out of him. He lived a whole life as a warlord and demon, but this body is that of a human child, unaccustomed to this sort of pain.

The world fades to black after two more strikes.

When he comes to, he is laying in a soft bed. The bedding smells clean, but oddly stale - like a guest bed they only air out every other day, but never use. He turns his head and the bamboo house comes into focus. It’s Shizun’s room and Shizun’s bed, but that makes no sense - where does the man sleep if not in his own bed? His cultivation isn’t good enough to forgo sleep altogether. There’s something here, a corner piece to this puzzle Binghe is struggling to fit into the big picture. Is this why Shizun keeps going to the brothels? Can he only find rest in the embrace of women? Binghe, formerly a very active master of a harem with hundreds of wives and concubines, can’t judge him for that. He already dismissed the rumors about Shizun abusing a cultivation cauldron; dual cultivation is one of the few methods to mend ruined meridians and Binghe still remembers how wrecked Shen Qingqiu’s cultivation was when he caught him.

There is yelling from the main room, Mu shishu’s incensed voice and the low rumble of the Sect Leader as he tries to calm him. Eventually a blank faced Shizun leads both of them inside and Mu shishu ignores all etiquette to rush to the bed and take stock of Binghe’s injuries.

“These… these are not the marks of a discipline whip,” he says, confused and relieved.

“Of course not,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “I don’t keep one of those wretched things around on my peak. As if those fools could tell the difference between a discipline whip and a regular slaver’s whip. All they wanted was to hear the little beast scream.”

The Sect Leader hurriedly reassures Mu shishu that the whip strikes are painful, but with the right treatment they won’t even scar.

“Zhangmen-shixiong, are you saying that from experience?” Mu Qingfang asks, massaging his temples and startles a little when Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan say “Yes!” in perfect unison. Another corner piece for the puzzle.

After his injuries are treated and Yue Qingyuan shepherds the healer outside, Binghe is left alone with Shen Qingqiu.

“What am I to do with you, little beast? If you don’t learn to rein yourself in, I will kick you off my peak before you can drag our reputation down.”

“He deserved it. They started it.”

“And? This is not Bai Zhan. You are in no position to make such a ruckus about things. Your stunt lost Qing Jing almost a tenth of our yearly funding. My own shizun would have beaten me to death if I pulled something so idiotic.”

“Then why didn’t you?” He’s starting to understand Shen Qingqiu, the wretched little slave, who clawed his way up to become Peak Lord despite his ruined cultivation and digs his teeth into what’s his so nobody can take it away, but he still wants to hear it from the man himself. “Do I remind you of yourself, Shizun?”

“Little beast, you are asking for a beating.” Shen Qingqiu forgot his fan, or else he’d be hiding behind it, as always. Binghe’s Shizun has such a terribly thin face. “You have potential and drive to make something of yourself. I want to see how far it will take you. If you learn how to hide your claws better.”

Oh, Binghe knows exactly how far he can go. But he humors his Shizun and does a demonstration of his White Lotus routine. Shizun fetches a fan just so he can smack him over the head, but says that it’s an adequate act, for now. However, if Binghe can’t fool the peak into believing that he mellowed out from the punishment, then he shouldn’t expect help from his master!

They settle into an understanding over the next few years. They are not of a kind, but they are both beasts after a fashion and now that he finally peered under Shen Qingqiu’s unbreakable armor, he doesn’t resent the man as much. Is he himself not a violent, monstrous thing once you peel off his pleasant facade? What filled the human child with fear and resentment entices the adult demon that now lives in his skin. Besides, Shizun hasn’t hurt him in this life. Shen Qingqiu usually lets him be, only interacting with him as much as any other discipline, but sometimes under the guise of chores he takes remedial lessons to perfect his act. The years he let go of his humanity took their toll and he needs the guidance to set some of the details right.

“I think I might be part demon,” Luo Binghe says one day, sipping tea in the bamboo house. For two hours straight Shizun poked and prodded at his insecurities, reaching for a level of unpleasantness he doesn’t often aim at him and Binghe kept his mask of a perfect, demure youth all throughout. At the end of it Shizun poured him a cup of tea and reluctantly praised his acting. It’s a thorny thing, Shizun’s praise, but it has set a warmth in Binghe’s chest that refuses to go away.

“You are fifteen. It’s probably just puberty.” Binghe laughs at his Shizun’s expression of disgust. Shen Qingqiu is technically not wrong either, because it’s his steadily growing sex drive that keeps aggravating his demon half. “I have met men who wish they could be demons. I don’t care as long as you don’t tarnish the reputation of the sect.”

“The sect or Qing Jing Peak?”

“The sect. Drag me down with your madness if you want. I chose to take responsibility for you as your Shizun, but leave the others out of it.”

The others in this case, Binghe has learned, means Yue Qingyuan. Binghe is not sure what ties the two men together (ten thousand arrows and a throat split open on the shards of a blade) but it’s a kind of devotion and he wants it for himself. He set this thread of fate against Xin Mo’s blade and it remained unbroken, so he wants to tangle himself up in it until he can forget that he has no thread of his own. He couldn’t find true peace in the embrace of a thousand women, but when he imagines himself sandwiched between Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, the most resilient and the strongest man the human realm can offer, he thinks he could be satisfied. Shen Qingqiu’s sharp edges stimulate the demon part of him that wants to court with his fangs and claws bared and Yue Qingyuan’s soft brotherly manners soothe the neglected human boy he tried to rip out of his soul, but never managed. They would be perfect.

But first he has to find out why Shen Qingqiu keeps pushing the Sect Leader away and mend their relationship somehow, and a crucial step to that is making sure Liu Qingge lives. Binghe now suspects that the Bai Zhan War God’s death was an accident, but it drained Shen Qingqiu of any will to stand up for himself and he can’t allow that to happen this time around.

“When I passed Liu shishu earlier I sensed that his qi was unbalanced. He is heading to a deviation soon.” He can blame it on his Shizun that he learned to sniff out impending qi deviations, because Shen Qingqiu had them often and always, always tried to cover them up. “I know he is going to Lingxi caves for isolated cultivation and I overheard Mu shishu say that Shizun is following him in a fortnight. I want Shizun to be prepared to call for help if Liu shishu turns violent and attacks him.”

It’s a battle to convince Shizun to take the emergency talismans, but Binghe eventually wears him down. He spends the whole night before Shizun enters the caves drawing the talismans; it’s his punishment for bothering Shen Qingqiu so much in the past two weeks. Soon after, the Sect Leader leaves and Binghe doesn’t remember the exact timeline anymore, but it sounds like things are happening the way they did before; Liu Qingge’s death and the demon invasion was barely a week apart and Yue Qingyuan was absent for both. So Binghe loiters around the emergency medical team and waits.

Nobody notices it when he slips into the backline of the emergency team, keeping pace with them through the winding pathways of the Lingxi caves until something calls out to him, his instincts suddenly on high alert, and he falls behind, just as unnoticed. The side cavern is almost completely blocked off and once Binghe squeezes inside he can’t see anything, but he doesn’t need his eyes to tell what happened. Poisonous, disturbed qi saturates the cavern, heavy on his tongue with pain and fear and desperation, the rage of a dragon trapped in a bottle, thrashing to break free. He can feel the marks gouged into the walls when he touches them, can taste the blood saturating the surface when he licks along a deep crack.

A beast was trapped in here, a beast that tastes like Yue Qingyuan.

The discovery makes him giddy and he has to tear himself away from the cavern before the qi could damage his human cultivation or the sweet song of blood could awaken his demon half. Outside he finds that things happened as he expected, and to his relief both Peak Lords live. Liu Qingge seems unbearably insistent on undoing the damage he did to Shen Qingqiu’s reputation in the past, but Shizun seems just as annoyed by his attempts as Binghe, so it’s fine.

The demon invasion happens just on schedule and Binghe goes in with a plan to use the demon elder’s poisonous attack to pretend that was what awakened his demon half. It's a good plan, one that's immediately dashed by Liu Qingge, who can't bear to sit and watch when Shen Qingqiu gets to fight. For a blissful moment Binghe entertains the idea of revealing himself anyway and ripping Liu Qingge limb from limb, but he restrains himself and moves right on.

The encounter with Meng Mo is different. In the dream realm Binghe is not a child and he shuts off access to the dream before the old demon can pull anyone else in with them. Then he bows to the elder with all the respect his old mentor earned in that other life. “This Binghe is overjoyed to see Meng shushu has found him again.”

It’s strange, to explain what happened to him to someone who can’t possibly remember those events, but Meng Mo takes it all with grace, even when Binghe admits that Xin Mo trapped the demon in his own nightmare and slowly consumed him. Binghe doesn’t strictly need the grandfatherly old demon in his head - because as much as Meng Mo would deny it, Binghe has met enough demon families to now recognize him for the very typical demonic grandfather that he is - but his presence feels right and his power can tide them over until Binghe decides to break the seals.

Together they hatch a plan to trap his Shizun and his Shibo in a dream until they are forced to talk to each other. It’s easier said than done, because with Liu Qingge nipping at his heels again to demand a spar (get a hint already shishu, Shizun doesn’t see sparring as a bonding activity and you never told him that you mean it that way!) Shen Qingqiu refuses to go down to the brothel to sleep. Finally, when sleep deprivation is driving Shizun to the brink of a qi deviation, Binghe has enough and bluntly presents him with a sleep tonic. “You can take it willingly or I can hit you over the head and take you down to the city. Your choice, Shizun.”

It’s enough of a threat that Shen Qingqiu allows Binghe to distract Liu shishu with a barrage of very specific questions about an upcoming nighthunt and sneaks out to the city himself. The distance would usually be a bit bothersome, but Binghe can grasp the thread tying Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu together and pull them into a joint dream in the middle.

It’s worse than he expects. He gets a front row seat to their worst nightmares and even fully knowing that these are only memories, his demon blood burns to rip their enemies apart. Meng Mo bodily drags him outside of the dream so his enraged howling can’t disturb the long overdue reconciliation between Xiao Jiu and his Qi-ge.

“He was so cruel to me in that first life, I never imagined that he ever had it worse,” Binghe admits quietly when his rage has cooled, pale as a ghost as they watch the shade of Qiu Jianluo force himself on his child slave.

“Have you ever…?”

“No. Even I had my limits. I made sure they wanted me, even if they regretted it afterwards.” How many women did he feed to Xin Mo’s endless appetite over the years? He never counted. Meng Mo just hums and then shoos him away; the old demon can maintain the dream until the humans are done sorting themselves out and it’s probably not good for Binghe’s psyche to watch all of this.

The next few years are a blur. Binghe keeps his distance from Shen Qingqiu when it becomes clear that the reconciliation followed them out of the dream. He doesn’t want Shen Jiu to think of him as a disciple, a child, he wants to leave and return as a dashing suitor, so he watches from afar as things slot into a much more pleasing picture than before. With Yue Qingyuan’s broad shoulders propping him up, Shen Qingqiu finally gains the power to back up his words and a genuine confidence to match his proud bearing. He kicks all his detractors off Qing Jing and calls an audit from An Ding to clean up all the leftover filth before the new hallmasters take their post. Yue Qingyuan shuts down a nasty comment during a peak lord meeting about Shen Qingqiu’s brothel visits by reminding everyone that they are allowed to visit their family outside the sect if they want to, and this is everything the sect gossip talks about for the next sennight. It prompts Ning Yingying to bashfully admit to her trusted Luo shidi that her mother is one of Shen Qingqiu’s 'sisters', that she joined the sect on his recommendation. Maybe A-Luo would like to meet her sometime? He’s like a little brother to Yingying and she wants him to meet her family.

Not everything is perfect, of course. Qing Jing is still heavy on the physical punishment, second only to Bai Zhan, because the fear of pain works extremely well on the rich brats, but Binghe’s growing restlessness sees him punished more than all the disciples put together and on him it has a very different effect. He can’t help it, his libido is out of control and the people he wants are out of his reach, so the only things he can channel his restless energy is aggression and too long nights of masturbation that leave him too tired to function the following day. At one point Shen Qingqiu even threatens him with the whip again if he doesn’t cut it out, and the thought of Shen Qingqiu whipping him bloody fuels his fantasies for the next several weeks.

It’s three months before the Immortal Alliance Conference when Meng Mo digs his heels in about the course of their future.

“We are not getting Xin Mo.”

“I need it if I want to become strong again.”

“I reviewed all of your memories and I can confidently say that’s not true. The wretched thing hurt you more than it ever helped.”

“I will never get out of the abyss without it. I need it for that long and then I will lock it away.”

“If you pick it up you will never be able to put it down again. Just like in that other life.”

“Then what do you suggest? Am I to just stay in the abyss and perish?!”

“No, of course not. Ask Xiao Mobei to teach you his portal trick.”

“... Let’s start with the obvious that it would not work and let’s not go into the logistics of how I’m even supposed to get hold of him.”

“You have actively used Xin Mo for fifteen centuries.” Was it really that long? It didn’t feel that long. “You have absorbed enough of its residual energy that with the right teacher you should be capable of learning portal manipulation. Whether the Mobei boy is willing to teach you or not is another matter.”

“We were friends before I went insane.” Before he merged the realms and accidentally destroyed Mobei’s entire kingdom and all his subjects in the process. “I think I have a way to convince him.”

Thus starts the long chase to get into Shang Qinghua’s house so Binghe can talk to him in private. It’s much easier said than done. Much as Qinghua has made his peak self-sustaining, he is still busy as hell and when he's not then he's in his leisure house which is the most well-warded building in the entire sect. They only manage a meeting with two weeks left to go before the conference.

At least convincing Shang Qinghua is easy enough. “I recently found out that I'm part demon and I want your prince to help me get away after the conference” is a clear motivation why Binghe would want to talk to Mobei and “I can see from your bruises that he's trying to court you - very carefully, by his standards, I don't see any frostbite - I can make him understand that you are not interested or how to do it the human way, whichever you prefer” makes Qinghua’s expression twist into something both calculating and flustered. The wonders a millennia lived as mostly a demon does, Binghe muses. He was too young and too human to realize that Mobei was pining hard for his little snake of an advisor the first time around. He's not surprised when it all turns into a Human Courting Dos and Don’ts 101. He's not sure if Qinghua is really interested or he's just too scared to turn Mobei down, but when he comes to finalize the details of his getaway the leisure house stinks to the high heavens of happy ice demon, so it's working at least.

He talks Mobei down from letting his entire menagerie loose on the disciples (Qinghua breathes a sigh of relief. He might be able to keep his position as a spy and not lose all his enrolled disciples after all) and shows him where to send the most dangerous beasts for a more targeted attack against Huan Hua’s adult cultivators. Binghe doesn't much care about the disciples, but the least amount of damage done against the sect, the more likely Shen Qingqiu will take him back soon once he returns.

The night before the Conference he finally visits Shen Qingqiu in his dream to show the man his true self. “I told you that I'm a demon.” In the dream Qingqiu is scrawnier and not quite the perfectly polished image of a peerless immortal. Binghe revels in tracing his eyes over all the scars he can see that have been long erased from his skin in the waking world. “I need to leave for a time, after the conference. But do not fret. When I return I will be Junshang and lay the demon world in front of you and Sect Leader Yue as a courting gift.”

He keeps Shen Qingqiu in the dream long enough that his Shizun can't talk to him in person before the event begins. It would spoil the fun to have a fight with his future intended before the hunt.

This plan, unlike the demon invasion one, goes off without a hitch. When Qinghua is portaled into Mobei’s palace a week later for one last report before Binghe leaves, the man has only good news - the sect only suffered injuries and no deaths, and as an added bonus the Iceclaw Assassin Wolf they dropped into the Huan Hua ranks took out the Old Palace Master and his most trusted people before it self destructed. It’s a better outcome than he dared to hope for.

Mobei refuses to teach him portals (for now) but gives him a token that can portal him out of the abyss if things get dicey or Binghe is done training, so that's fine as well. All is ready. Binghe is going to go into the abyss and then seven years later he’ll come back out, fully in control of his heavenly demon heritage and as much of a beast in body as he is in spirit.

The Northern Consort greets him coldly, glaring at him from under a huadian painted with Mobei Jun’s blood that leaves no doubt in anybody’s mind about the king’s devotion to his little human husband. “What took you so long?” Shang Qinghua asks, unwinding one of his many layers of fur and dropping it on the shivering Binghe. The pelt barely covers his shoulders, but it warms Binghe all the same. “Zhangmen-shixiong has been hounding me day and night about your return. Shen Qingqiu refuses to hold their wedding without you there.”

“Ah, but Shang shishu.” Binghe spreads his arms wide, showing off his new physique with a grin. “I promised to lay the demon world before their feet. I couldn’t possibly return before I was capable of upholding that promise!”

Consort Shang is unimpressed.

“Next time, just get them a stick of tanghulu to share. Much easier to get and I bet you anything they would appreciate it more.”

He might not be wrong about that. What is the demon world to a pair of slave boys who rose to the top of the cultivation world on their own power? Comfort food made by his own hand is a much sweeter gift.

Binghe is still going to conquer the demon world for them regardless. He promised, after all, and what kind of husband would he be if he went back on his promises?

#svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #bingqijiu #tc writes #if I ever find the energy to write all these fics it will be all over for you #Bingge is a bit removed from his grudge against SQQ bc it happened so long ago #but in exchange he can be a feral beast in human skin #as a treat #there was no good spot to fit it in there but Bingge also forgot how to cook #he had to have turned into a literal abyss monster for the others to finally decide to put him down and it did no favor to his tastes #poor Yingying had to experience a lot of undercooked or questionably seasoned meals during their friendship #also please imagine YQY going through a few less palatable iterations during his time in the cave #before he remembered that he was supposed to be a boy and was let out #locked in the dark trying to remember that he's not a sword or a beast that's all hunger and sharp edges #his shizun kept him in there until he stopped roaring and screeching and started screaming like a proper human should #I like my Yue Qi with Hidden Layers and at least half of those are also very feral #they conflict nicely with how much of an enabling wet blanket he is #and I say that with all the fondness in the world #I like Yue Qi I want to give him headpats and lock him in a room with Xiao Jiu until they sort their shit out

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leos-regression-cove · 5 months

Text

I had a dream last night that when dropping Loki off somewhere, Mobius noticed he was really upset and regressing and just was ready to curl up on the floor and cry so he pulled up a chair and said "Hey, look, I'll be here when you need me, okay? I'll stay right here with you until you're ready."

And idk like I think maybe that was a message to myself. I can stay here, write for this fandom and chill for however long I need. It'll be okay. These characters, these stories will be with me, even if the show has run its course and the rest of the world has moved on.

#agere fic inspo #sfw agere #fandom agere #loki agere #marvel agere #not to look too deep into this #I'm not like super into reality shifting #this was just a nice little subconsious message that made me feel both small #and inspired #I slept with my oldest plushie last night #maybe it was also a message from her #The message is what matters #even if its from my own brain #I can't remember if I was Loki in this situation or not #but I remember comfort in the words so that's what matters right?#🎠 chatter

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