#especially when its a choice made by someone for themselves and themselves only

[dirtytransmasc]

ok but like, Modest!Alicent Hightower au (more modest than she already is) cause I feel like it, it adds ✨layers✨

Alicent who veils her hair during her day to day life, elegant laces and silks adorning her long ginger-brown hair, covering it completely at the Sept.

Alicent who wears dresses with long heavy skirts and always covers her elbows with billowing sleeves.

Alicent who conceals her silhouette with thick shaping garments. they also just helped her back during her pregnancies and taking care of kids (her servants recommended them so she'd have full range of motion and support)

Alicent who was stripped of her modesty, her dignity and sense of security whenever Viserys wanted her. stripped of it by her own father when he sent her to Viserys's chambers in a dress that didn't cover as much as she would have liked, especially when she visited a man with those (silent) instructions.

Alicent who lets her hair down around people she trusts. covering it around Rhaenyra after she abandoned her, a blow to Rhaenyra, a blatant "you hurt me and broke my trust". letting Criston see her hair after he becomes her sworn sword. covering in front of Viserys until he demands she stops. Alicent putting a little makeshift veil on her daughter, who wanted to look like her mum, promising it would protect her from how loud the world was.

Alicent who only trusts her closest servants to dress her, and even then insists on being in a full shift before they can come in.

Alicent who felt stripped bare while giving birth to her children.

little Alicent looking up to her mum who was also very modest, and spending her childhood playing in long skirts.

Alicent who wears shawls and scarves out in public or at events. Criston watches to make sure she remains properly covered. her hands fiddling with the patterns or tassels while she talks to others.

Alicent doing this with her kids:

Criston offering her his cloak when she's put in bad situations like sudden crowds or outings.

wearing flowy but opaque fabrics during the summers, looking ethereal and goddess-like with her layers skirts and sleeves.

the whole Larys situation being even more sickening.

all 3 of her sons being protective of her modesty alongside Criston, always offering their cloaks to her or standing to block her from the wind or wandering eyes. Aegon holding her veil in place when it's windy, Aemond placing a cloak over her in public, Daeron fiercely defending his mum from lusting glances or lingering stares.

Helaena continuing to veil with her mum when they go out, they love matching veils and trying ornate styles.

Alicent fixing her daughters veil in attempts to get it to stay in on dragon back. it doesn't. but they don't mind the extra bonding time none the less.

gold veils that literally make her look like she's dripping in gold.

tucking her babes in her shawls or holding them against her skirts that are practically swallowing them whole.

Alicent collecting layers. Ornate undergarments that cover her arms in gold and embroidered patterns, some almost like tapestries others more simple. undershirts that cover her neck, with "choker" patterns and sewn in jewels. modest nightgowns and robes made of the softest, most breathable fabrics in existence.

covering her face on holy days/days of importance.

I just have so many thoughts.

[diejager]

what happens when reader has the baby and:

A) It looks like Horangi which covers the half life.

or

B) It looks like König which exposes the half life.

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, age gap, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, silencing someone, tell ,me if I missed any.

A) In this scenario, it would make everything much easier for them to separate you from your mother, your only crutch in your living situation. Despite the shock and slight discomfort of your mother, she’s still proud of you for finding someone who loves and can provide for you while you’re still young and learning, especially since its someone she knows and in both your entourage.

Horangi would be over more often than he used too, stuck to you by the hip while you worked around him during the day and afternoon, seated so close to you, always touching you or always whispering filthy praises into your ears. Your mother was none the wiser, going on with her days as if nothing had changed, as if they hadn’t forced themselves onto you and knocked you up.

It didn’t take much encouragement from both men to have you permanently moved to Horangi’s home, the house beside yours that had been vacant until he moved with König. It was bare and minimalistic, boring even in every aspect —except for your room and the one for your little baby. Yours a softer tone of your colour and your baby’s a very calm and neutral brown and cream colours.

This would be the most favourable situation, you get to stay near your mother, scared, isolated and confined, but still interacting with your mother. You get to see her everyday, to smile and talk to her as much a s you wish and she gets to help you throughout your pregnancy.

B) In this one, König and Horangi’s hands are forced, you’ll have to move away and your mother silenced. You’re terrified and stressed, separated from your mother who just faced the worst thing in her life, the betrayal that flashed through her and the disappointment she felt towards herself for being so blind. You’re torn away from your struggling mother, taken away from her parentage and support to a place where only König and Horangi have access to.

Your mother is permanently silenced, that worried you, but neither men would tell you what they did to her except that she wouldn’t bother you anymore —that only frightened you more and stress was bad for the baby. You’d be without moral or mental support, without anything standing between you and them in their little heaven of a cabin, secluded and well-hidden from prying eyes and curious glances. They made choices, some smart and some idiotic, but they were all done for one reason.

They made it as if you disappeared from the rest of the world, dropping any sort of connection or relation to the outside world to keep you confined to the cabin, locked away with their attention solely placed on you, now that any sort of facade was out of the door. There was nothing to hide now, they would have you walking naked or only in a shirt, caring for your every need and fulfilling your cravings. They dressed and dolled you up, turning you into their pretty, pregnant wife that swayed and waddled with a swollen and heavy stomach.

This would be the worst situation to find yourself in, stolen and uprooted from anything you knew, being forced into a life of unknown and uncertainty. Your only source of human touch and affection are the men that took you away for their own selfish desires.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny

[illegiblewords]

SOME ILLEGIBLE RAMBLES AND REFLECTIONS: GALE AND WYLL AS FORSAKEN CHILDREN

Gale and Wyll share a rather unique element of abuse that I haven't seen discussed yet. Someone's gotta talk about it, might as well be me lol.

I would argue that both Wyll and Gale are being pressured to destroy themselves at the altar of certainty. Wyll pacted with Mizora in the first place because when the cult of Tiamat threatened Baldur's Gate, he was told that destruction and death were inevitable outcomes unless he agreed. Mizora was exploiting fear, self-doubt, and a double-standard in self-worth. Even in the Forgotten Realms I'm pretty sure the future isn't set in stone. There was a definite chance destruction and death could occur due to the cult of Tiamat though, and Wyll was willing to enter an incredibly abusive pact to avoid that possibility. His alternative was to accept that life is struggle and uncertainty by nature, and he does not have total control over outcomes. The idea that his best might not be good enough and others might come to harm was enough to justify self-destruction in Wyll's own mind back then. In scenarios where Wyll ends his pact, it's narratively poetic that Mizora poses the same question. This is a way for audiences to examine whether or not Wyll has changed over the course of his pact, whether he looks at himself and life the way he did originally. Mizora tells him with the same false-pretense of certainty that if he doesn't use her power then his father will die and it will be Wyll's fault for not sacrificing himself in Ulder's name. Having Wyll break the pact feels appropriate to me. Whether he succeeds or fails in saving Ulder, it matters that he makes the attempt as a free man without any guaranteed outcome. If he succeeds, it's an especially good way to spit in the face of Mizora's manipulation. She never knew for sure what tomorrow would bring. She had no right to pretend that she did. Mystra does a similar thing to Gale. Gale might succeed in destroying the Absolute without detonating the orb. He might succeed in retrieving the Crown of Karsus. He might not. Mystra isn't in it for mortals here either way. She wants what she wants for herself when she wants it. And while the scene before the final battle varies depending on choices, I had one where Gale basically started panicking because if he didn't use the orb and the group's efforts failed--he thought that everyone who died to the Absolute and mindflayers would be because of him. He thought it would be cowardice and selfishness not to kill himself. He could have gone up alone, detonated the orb alone, and made CERTAIN nobody died except for him. The alternative was to risk failure for the possibility that he wouldn't need to die too. Like Wyll, Gale was taught not to trust himself. Like Wyll, Gale believes his life and well-being are acceptable prices for 'the greater good'. Like Wyll, Gale is being told that the fault of everyone's suffering if he tries and fails is not the Absolute, not the Emperor, not the Dead Three--but him. His best couldn't overpower those enemies, so it's his fault for letting everyone down. It's his fault for not just killing himself. For Wyll it isn't Mizora's fault if his father dies. It isn't Gortash's faut. Blame falls on him exclusively because he wasn't ready to put himself back into the power of an abuser. The attempt to shift accountability is incredibly dishonest. Both Wyll and Gale are basically being put into the allegory of the foresaken child. For anyone who may not know it, the story goes like this.

There is a perfect, utopian city. No one suffers, no one fights, no disease ravages its streets, no hunger grips its people. And everyone not only lives in peace, but lives in the certainty that their peace will never be broken. There is, however, a price to this. For all the residents of that city to enjoy tranquility a single, innocent child must be sacrificed to endure unimaginable torture. It's because of this child's suffering that everyone else is guaranteed happiness. Is that child's life an acceptable price?

Most people would say it isn't. The allegory exists to illustrate how people might decide to give cruelty and horror a pass.

There is another saying that exists, too. "Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither." That is also what is being demanded of Wyll and Gale--their freedom, their agency, their efforts rejected as inadequate. Only guaranteed outcomes will do according to their abusers... except life has no guarantees.

I would argue Wyll and Gale are both effectively forsaken children, who are being blamed for balking when told to accept their torment for the good of everyone else. Their abusers condemn them for not treating themselves as expendable.

There's a difference between a sacrifice freely made as a last resort when all alternatives are exhausted, and someone making a sacrifice because they regard their own life as cheap or are afraid of failure as a possibility. There's also a huge difference when someone sacrifices themself as their own idea compared to being coerced or manipulated into it. And as a fun personal experience that accidentally illustrated the point. During my first complete play through, it happened that there were two characters in-range of the Netherbrain. One was Karlach, wailing on the thing until it had about twenty HP left. The other was Gale. Gale had no powerful spells left, and no scrolls left. But he had cantrips and he was in-range. The last move in that fight was Gale killing the Netherbrain with shocking grasp. Considering that Gale started the game with basically none of his archwizard spells, that Mystra had no trust in his capabilities and encouraged him to doubt his own capabilities, that Mystra wanted him to kill himself regardless of whether it was necessary simply because it was certain... having Gale win on the reaction cantrip felt like the biggest fuck you he could have given. Could not have asked for things to unfold better than that personally. In any case the idea that Wyll and Gale come to realize they're more capable than they ever gave themselves credit, that they aren't disposable, and that they aren't to blame for the bad actions of other people seems like a key lesson for both of them imo.

[liyazaki]

"specially abled" and "disabled" are absolutely, unequivocally not interchangeable terms. & yeah, it actually is that deep.

I wish my autoimmune disease made me specially abled instead of regularly ill. I'm a pro now at managing constantly-changing treatment regimens, coordinating monthly (if not more) doctor visits & endless bloodwork, but alas- that's not a superpower. it's the day-to-day reality of living with a disability.

I can only speak as a someone who was relatively healthy before I got sick, but the mourning period I went through was brutal. getting diagnosed with an incurable disease brings a metric fuckton of grief with it, requiring a huge perspective shift.

I'm an intensely independent, self-reliant person- sometimes to my own detriment. unsurprisingly, coming to terms with this new reality was no small task.

when I was finally diagnosed, I made a playlist (my go-to coping mechanism). I played one song on a loop because of its namesake line, & it still packs an emotional gut-punch for me: "I needed to lose you to love me."

I was angry at my body for 'failing' me- for having zero control over such an all-important outcome (my health). I had to reconcile myself to the reality that my life was different now. I had to lose my old view of myself to love the new version that needed more sleep, more sick days, more accommodations.

it took me years to get comfortable using the term "disability" to help describe what's now a big part of my lived experience (especially since mine is invisible). it went from being a foreign term I could've never imagined using for myself to my bridge to self acceptance.

(note: I have my own complex relationship with the term, as do most people. I’m talking about the harm in equating terms here, not implying that anyone should use these words to describe themselves. that’s entirely up to the individual.)

there's nothing romantic about my disease- a quality that "specially abled" imbues for me. do I- & all disabled people- have special abilities, valuable experience & unique skills? you bet your ass we do. one has absolutely nothing to do with the other.

every person has the right to choose the terms they're comfortable with to describe their experience. for me? treating "disability" like a dirty word 1) glosses over (if not entirely erases) the very real, life-altering struggle inherent to my condition, & 2) muddies the waters, potentially making it even more difficult for disabled people to get the accommodations we need when we need them.

using terms like "specially abled" isn't some evil, awful thing, though. if anything, it tells me that the person is trying to be delicate & respectful with their word choices. I genuinely appreciate that, even if it's misguided (in my opinion).

when in doubt? listen to how people describe themselves. honor them by using the same descriptors (unless they tell you otherwise). choose to believe people when they tell you how terms affect them.

forgive yourself if you don't always get it right- who does? perfection isn't the point- effort is the point. kindness is the point. respect is the point. how we get there is as varied as people, but it starts with the words we use.

[sepublic]

No but the way Pucci being Christian is so intertwined with his motives as a villain... He’s every story I’ve heard of the Christian convert who suffered something horrible and senseless, and after drifting through life lost and without a sense of purpose, found hope by believing in God. He’s so many stories of tragedy I’ve seen where people managed to cope by finding peace in the idea that this is all part of God’s divine, incomprehensible plan; It’s fate, it’s his will, and by accepting it they can move on. It’s for a reason, even if they’ll never understand what they’re looking at.

That’s what Heaven is for Pucci; His core trauma is a series of horrific coincidences with no rhyme or reason, and so he latches onto the idea that it’s all part of “his” plan, God and/or DIO’s. That’s why he finds comfort in knowing the future, knowing it’s all in the hands of Fate and removing his own blame and agency, which is why the narrator asks the viewer to judge for ourselves who did wrong, when we see the backstory of Wes, Enrico, and Perla. Pucci made a decision and it backfired horribly, so he doesn’t want to choose anymore.

It’s the way Pucci’s desire to be the messianic hero screws him over and causes tragedy; He’s so devoted to his position as a priest that rather than sabotaging it in order to just tell Perla the truth to her face (thus breaking the rules of the confessional), Pucci relies on this roundabout method so he can have it both ways, only to cause heartbreak and death. Pucci is so desperate to save humanity to make up for his own guilt and failure that he resets the universe, making him the worst kind of evil in his brother’s eyes; One totally oblivious to its nature. Pucci begs to die a martyr from Weather Report and Emporio, rather than just dying here and now.

Ungalo and Rikiel are prepared to die for Pucci once he gives them a sense of purpose to all of the inexplicable misfortune in their lives; Versus is also emboldened by this realization, but chooses to weaponize it for himself. The sons of DIO are people who all went through misfortune their whole lives, they’re ‘children of God’ who find comfort in devoting themselves to something they can actually believe in, that they believe will take care of them in some way; Like many Christians following the path of God, believing Heaven is waiting for them at the end of the tribulation and that it will all be worth it, that it all meant something and mattered and served a cause, like them. 

Pucci and the sons of DIO can no longer bear the pain and uncertainty of moving forward, so they aspire, Pucci especially, for a world where fate will move things along for them. They don’t have to take the first step, especially not Pucci, when Made in Heaven’s reset will compel him and everyone else to do what’s fated, regardless of what they try. 

Pucci fears and admires the courage of the Joestars who are able to step forward and face fate, engage and grapple with it, rather than just blindly accept and surrender in despair. If Diavolo precedes Pucci as someone too resistant of fate, Pucci is the opposite; Someone too resigned to it. Unlike the Joestars who know their fate but can work with what’s written in stone to change the other details. 

It’s why Pucci admires the first human to try a mushroom despite knowing it could kill them; But rather than put in the effort to get up to their level, Pucci would rather everyone stoop to his own, and claims he’s just sparing people noble yet needless pain (He’s only sparing himself by avoiding the reminder that he could and should be braver than this). He says he pities the human who tried a mushroom, adding that they were probably only motivated by hunger and desperation, and had no choice anyway.

I think Pucci is secretly envious of that courage, and that’s why he always downplays it afterwards by suggesting it’s foolishness rather than bravery. Pride, Envy, Wrath... Sloth given his despair, and a bit of Greed with the $800 dollar pants. Then there’s the BDSM vibes of Whitesnake for Lust, all that’s missing is Gluttony, which I guess the cherries and being devoured by the Green Baby account for...?

In all seriousness, Pucci wants guidance; He surrenders himself to God, follows the instructions led by DIO, and relies on Fate to tell him what to do when Made in Heaven resets the universe. Remember that time Pucci got around his brother’s Heavy Weather by removing his sight, and forcing Anasui to guide him? Yeah.

There’s a reason why Whitesnake obsesses with preserving the past, and I think part of it boils down to Pucci being afraid of its counterpart the Future; Which Made in Heaven, not entirely unlike King Crimson, allows Pucci to speed through and glimpse, to get through the worst of it ASAP and lessen the pain. He doesn’t want to accept that sometimes things just… happen.

[greenflamedwriter]

The First Husband.

Tianglang-Jun X Transmigrated Shen Qingqiu. Instead of burying and chaining the Heavenly Demon into a mountain, instead he's chaind by marriage. The sects sent forth cultivation partners and required offspring with Heavenly demon blood.

With the entire cultivation world threatening him and his son, Binghe, Tianglang-jun had to accept...

Prompt:

 Instead of destroying Tianglang-Jun, the sects realised the heavenly demon actually kept the demon realm in order.

  if he died it would create a power vacuum they knew about his love for human culture, and if demons ruined that, he couldn’t enjoy their plays and literature-

 But with the death of his empress the Huan Hua Su Xiyan leaving him alone with Luo Binghe, Huan Hua planned revenge assuming that the demon killed their disciple.

The other Sects disagreed and wanted no part in it, with no proof why would they take down someone who kept the realms at peace?

So the Old Palace Master devised a new plan. His eyes on Shen Qingqiu, smile growing making the other mans skin crawl-

But to the others they thought nothing if it.

 “Then a marriage, if Tianglang-jun is as powerful as they say his off spring should be powerful also, if we choose who to marry that could give us some assurance.”

 Instead of chains, instead it was wives hand picked from each sect, pointing daggers at Tianglang-jun, surround him with disarming smiles but at a hidden signal will strike.

Each Sect had to volunteer someone and of course two sects denied.

 They were faithful to their cause both the nuns and daoist priests snd choose to remain celibete and so they offered themselves as servants to the wives in the harem to be their ally afterall, he is a demon it’d be best to have cultivators to face any threat.

“What about the men? How could Tianglang-Jun have for us if we can’t aqquire offspring?”

The old man nodded “Their are ways for men to procreate, some with elixers, flowers. Before we discuss we’ll make sure everyone is well informed.”

Shen Qingqiu spoke up.

“Hild on a moment, had Tianglang-jun expressed his desire for wives? Especially after the loss of his empress?”

 The Old Palace Masters eyes narrowed.

“Of course, the sect leaders had discussed it.”

More like cornered the man and threatened him till he had no choice butbto comply or inact war any other time he would put these cultivators in their place.

But his sons cried snapped him out if it, Xiyan gave her life for him and Tianglang-jun other than his nelhew had no one. He needed help.

 Maybe not all the women sent to him would be cruel…

Shen Yuans heart panged for Tianglang-jun. As he read this stkry abkut the demonic emporer who would chain himself for the sake for his son, would place his head beneith the cultivatirs heel just to save Su Xiyans child. And all kf that to be in vain! He was a giid father! Itbwasn’t his fault the cultivators took advantage of his vunerable state and tricked him into a contract that made him take wives and make off spring! He sidnt want to do it but itvwas either that or bloodshed!

The cultivatirs feared Tianglng-jun but his power was ridiculously op if they could choose canditates they can in turn gain powerful soldiers.

 Luo Binghe was left in the care if these wives since tianglang-jun had to keep the peace only he could face powerful demons and keep the cultivators apoeased when he kept his demons in line.

 Leaving Luo Binghe alone with his cruel step-mother.

Its what everyone calked Shen Qkngqiu, and the man abused Luo Binghe each chance he took but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave obvious marks for Tianglang-jun to notice!

 And the blood parasotes? 

There was a loop hole, unless Shen Qingqiu saw it as discipline, they never alerted Luo Binghes father.

And in thrn Luo Binghe assumed his father disnt care ans knew about the abuse.

Shen Yuan hated the story and how it ended that Luo Binghe after bejng pushed into the abyss came back killing both Tianglang-jun and his step-mother. 

 It was just too cruel that Tianglang-jun did all that for Luo Binghe and his son didnt see his suffering.

And then in a stupid twist Luo Binghe took over the harem, he ended up killing all Tianglang-juns offspring and took the wives himself, it apoeared that Binghe ahd a tyoe and that was cougers!

He was too young for them, Shen Yuan was spitting fury and not only that-

 There was some build up with Huan Hua! That they were evil and instead of revealing that they just went-

“Oh well whatever we don’t care abkut demons anymore!”

The fuck! It made no sense that the ending…fizzled out like that.

It sucked, it hinestly sucked!

“Stupid dumbfuck author!”

_________________

Shen Qingqiu took his eyes away for a moment, distracted by Ming Fan, the son of Ning Yingying he was only three but a hellion and liked to bully the crown primce Binghe-

Splash!

Shen Qingqiu turned in alarm and saw Luo Binghe disapear into the pond in their courtyard.

 “Binghe!”

Shen Qingqiu flew forward reaching out and pulling Luo Binghe out the pond, just in time for Luo Binghe to cough and hack up water, but his lips were already turning blue-

Shen Qingqiu shed Luo Binghes robes and wrapped him up in his outer layer.

“Xiao- get Tianglang-jun!”

Gongyi Xiao was the same age as Luo Binghe he was the son of a servant. When Qin Wanyrue had her miscarriage others assumed she would want no children near here-

But she took in Gongyi Xiao raising him.

And made him a playmate for Luo Binghe but even so he was faster knew the servant quarters and shkrtcuts and clukd get their junshang in time.

“Ming fan go to Ning Yingying!”

 He moved with haste to Mu Qingfangs quarters.

The man was at his desk and turned pleasent.

 “To what do I owe the visit-“

“Its Binghe! He fell in the pond!”

Seeing his frantic face, Mu Qingfang set to work.

And thats hiw Tianglang-jun flound them. After dismissing Gongyi Xiao, he entered but was halted by Mu Qingfang.

“A word, Junshang.”

Tianglang-jun trusted this man, su Xiyan swore he was a friend and he even helped with the birth of Luo Binghe and tried to save Su Xiyan tk the best kf his ability.

And she would’ve been alive if it wasn’t for the cultivators ambush…

 “There is no need to test Qingqiu anymore. If he were to harm Binghe he would’ve dine so by now. But this almost harmed Binghe there is ni need to lretend.”

Properlly chastisied Tinaglang-jun finally entered and saw his son swallowed in blankets- 

And Shen Qingqiu holding his hand, looking worried.

 “Shizun, I feel bad…” Tianglang-juns beart squeezed. Luo Binghe sounded so weak.

 To think when Binghe cried saying Shizun was kind and he didn’t want to be mean anymore Tianglang-jun told him he had to, once Shen Qingqiu reveals his true colours and yet it never came.

It was too cruel to cintinue on, Binghe almost got hurt.

 “I knkw it feels bad, Binghe. It’ll pass, you’ll be up on your feet in no time.”

 “Wheres Baba?”

“He’ll be here soon-“

Tianglang-Jun finally stepped into view noticing Binghes weak smile, Shen Qjngqiu thrned then stiffened, face pale as he ripped his hand iut if Binghes to bow-

“J-Junshang! Apologies it was this ones fault, I took my eyes of Binghe for a second-“

 Tianglang-jun help him stand up straight.

“Its alright, young Xiao told me everythkng.”

Shen Qingqiu nodded, “This one will accept any punishment as he sees fit,”

“Enough of that now, no ones getting punished. You did the right thing bringing him to Mu Qingfang,”

As Tianglang jun settled into the bed he patted the other side and Shen Qingqiu who almost thought he was dismissed settled on the other side of Bknghe who thanks to the medicjne was dozing off.

 “This Lord had his nephew raise Binghe. But during the talks of marriage and oeace treaties rebellions began to rise, Zhuzhi-lang had to deal with them in my stead.

 And I had no one to watch Binghe who was only one years old at the time.” He spoke gazing at his son.

 “Qin Wanyrue was a charming girl, but after her miscarriage was not suitable so I trusted her little sister to watch him, as well as other concubines and servants.”

Tianglang-jun sighed.

“This lord felt someone strike Luo Binghe, and the worst thing is that I cant tell who did it only that he was hurt. When they were caught out, they were banished or punished but Binghe refused to speak.

 So I made it a game, for Binghe to try to expose thise women with warm charming smiles and saw how quick their real faces showed when a child acted like a child.”

 Tianglang-jun looked at him with guilt, and Shen Qingqiu was entranced by it feeling his chest grow tight with that attention.

 “This Lord and his son were testing you. That seems wrong but for the sake of my son and to keep him safe that was what I could think off.”

 Shen Qingqiu found himself smiling.

 “This one understands, I would do the same thing.”

“It was not my intention to lie to you for so long though.”

“Well better safe and sorry, Luo Binghe is your sole heir.” 

 Although there was a plot hole here-

If Tianglang-jun knew Binghe was abused why didnt he stop Shen Qingqiu in the originol story?

 It didnt seem in character but if he knew then he let Binghe get abused and did nothing about it, turning a blind eye.

 But what changed? Was Tianglang-jun tired?

Did he think humans were softer and saw the blatant attacks as being sinilair to demons and thought it was normal?

Shang Qinghua, the son of Qiu Haitang.

Blth were awful characters in Shen Yuans opinion, both using under handed tricks to make it worse for the protagonists and scum villain alike-

 What was gross he thought with a sneer, was that neer the end in one line, it said Shang Qinghua married Mobei-jun.

Nkthing too bad unless you forget their siblings!

 Qingqhua was a prince but was the lowest of the low, meanwhile Mobei-Jun was the son of Tianglang-jun and the Mobei Elder.

 Shen Qingqiu found this out when he was trying to pursuade Binghe from calling him mother.

“I am not your mother.” Seeing the hurt, Shen Qingqiu tried to explain.

 “Your mother was Su Xiyan and she loved you very much, this one does not want to replace her but I do see you like a son, you’re my family. I just dont want you to forget about her, and how much she means to your father.”

“Does Shizun…hate mama since she was BaBa’s first love?”

Shen Qingqiu laughed “No, I wish I had tge easure of meeting her. They say you look just like her.”

Luo Binghe grew mullish.

“Is that why Baba doesnt visit anymore?”

Yeah, Tianglang-jun defiently was busy with his own rule, the other wives and rryjng to father one kther offspring or they’ll see this whole thing as a waste of time.

But Luo Binghe was starting to look more and more like her and Tianglang-jun was being obvious about his abscense.

Shen Yuan would have to beat it into him.

 And then for some reason he can’t remember when- but he ended up explaining the birds and the bee’s to Binghe. 

 And of course that was when Tianglang-jun appeared Shen Qingqiu smiled always delighted tonsee hisbfavourite character then stiffened to see a dark bruise on Tianglang-juns neck.

A kiss bitten mark.

 “Thats one way to do it, but men can create life too.”

He gave Shen Qingqiu a knowing look and Shen Qingqiu gaped-

Male preg?

“Men can conceive like women can or the oreffered method to demons and humans is sereogacy.”

Tianglang-jun sat with them leaning one arm on his leg.

“This lord was thinking about it, after talks with Mobei-Jun he wants this Lord to sire his child to pass down the line, and to keep the child safe till the time comes. The Mobei Clan has been nkthing but loyal,” he glanced at Shen Qingqiu whos insight has helped the lord more than he can say.

If Qingqiu hated they idea Tianglang-jun would do nothing.

 “Yes, it can be beneficial to both, and the long run. With two princes both can watch assist wach other and create a united front- but my Lord you couldn’t carry the child- and neitger can Mobei-jun they are weak during consumtion when they pass on the title that burden would make it worse for them.”

“Hmm, which is why I thiught you should do it.”

“Hmm- what!?”

Tianglang-Jun leaned closer nuzzling his shoulder.

 “That child will have the power of the heavenly demon clan and Mobei Clan but he’d just be a shell, he would be Qingqius child entierly he will look like you, and take after you.”

Shen Qingqiu was stiffening even more.

“T-that I din’t think I can-“

“It wont hurt, its not the same as a typical pregnancy.” He placed his hand on Qingqiu’s stomach right where the dantian is-

“Only our spirtual energy goes through here along with the help of a flower and it should form a spirtual womb we just need to keep feeding it the energy and Mobei jr will be born!”

“Im gonna be a big brother!”

Luo Binghe looked so excited and Qingqiu found it hard to say no.

 “How do you get it out?”

“The same way as putting spiritual energy in, if Qingqiu using his spiritual cultivation and pushes can eject the baby that way, its why most people end up with child during qi deviations.”

Ah, he kept getting confused that men can be impregnated.

“What else is tgere? There has to be a catch.”

Tianglang-jun looked sheepish.

“Well the flower that creats the spirtual womb will be permanent, so theres a chance that Qingqiu can create life but wont go back to normal.”

That was the catch?

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to decide now- what?”

“Okay.”

It happened in the story too, Shen Qingqiu had to hold the off spring it was an honour and most women were failing to make children so they decided a string cultivatir would do-

 But still to marry him to Qinghua? Airplane got so many death threats for that.

 So when he was babysitting the brat along with the others- ckz yeah as a shizun he wasnt just teaching Binghe he taught all the offspring.

Only Gongyi xiao who attented was the odd duckling out as he was adopted by Qin Wanyrue so he faved discrimnation.

Only Luo Binghe stuck up for him remaining sticky with his little brother it was sweet.

But that rat Qjnghua was watching him.

 And he didn’t like it.

“Wait so- no one is Tianglang-juns son!?”

“It was Gongyi Xiao who created the idea when the servant died and Qin Wanyrue took him in most wives adopted sons and daughters. 

 They all panicked not knly cknfortable with their life, but the pressure frkm tge sects to bear children and make sure that children is a high ranking prince! But Demon blood is incompatible to weak cultivators- they inly sent the weakest and they’re not string enlugh tk host a demon offspring.”

Meanwhile Su Xiyan was too of her class almost Yue Qingyuan.

After hearing the draft, Shen Qjngqiu was crying.

Luo Binghe yelled “You made Shizun cry!”

Oh well at least he learned qinghua wasn’t related to his soon to be born son, Mobei-jun. It appeared Qinghua did that to protect himself when both Mobei-jun, who was also abused bejng kidnapped by Linguang-jun and Shen Qingqiu too weak to save him- so when all their siblings died he lived.

But after the cruelty kf Binghe and Mobei-jun wished he was dead instead kf a life as a host creating offspring when Luo Binghe realised the same problem and his father was facing.

Only strong cultivators can host a heavenly demon, the same strength as a peak lord.

And the cultivation world sent disciples…

Even so, Shen Yuan didnt mean too cry it was too tragic!

 To think Tianglang-jun was fightjnf monsters body ripped tk shreds so of course he didn’t notice Qjngqius abuse to Binghe-

And then Qingqiu he had his own misunderstood arc.

 He was a burden child and hated himself, and saw how honest and sweet Tianglang-jun was and how he was enslaved to the cultivators.

 They were both prisoners and Shen Qjngqiu related and felt touched by that and thought it was unfair his life was over but tianglang-jun deserved better so he figured if he killed Binghe the reason Tianglang-jun was suffering then Tianglang-jun would be free. 

So Tianglang-jun was blindsided and he lost his son but he was so busy he barely even got to know him.

Letting hinself die at his sons hands and uncaring of Shen Jiu’s death, feeling as if the man becane a stranger before his very eyes and instead kf behng angry, destirying the world…instead he became tired.

Shen Yuan found himself in his husbands arms, tears streaming down his face.

“Husband, whats the matter?”

Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt embarresed scrubbing at his face, “This one is fine, just told a sad story that moved me. Shang Qinghua is gifted and this one will have to sponser his pursuits in the arts if he so wishes to be a writer.”

 Tianglang-jun hummed uncknvinced, as Shen Yuan released a shaky breath.

 “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You fight so much, for us, for your son Binghe. But one day you’ll turn around and see him as a man, his life passing like sand and you wint know him and he wont know you. Try, try for me to soend time with him. Do sonething tigether, make memories…”

Tianglang-Jun smiled pressing his lips to Shen Qingqiu’s neck hiding his smile and tears.

“Yes.”

_______________

So heres what Qinghua told him.

The Shens were a shady family whk dealt with demonic cultivation butvwere never exposed as such, too well hidden and acted like rich nobles.

 The Lord and Master was called Wu Yanzi, but his civilian name would be Shen -something-Zhu

And he visited brothels and had a son calked Shen Jiu.

Xiao Jiu was raised by a women who wanted nothing to do with him and saw him as a burden. When she died and he was trapped in the brothel the women urged him to find his father or he would end up like them, he had the fave for it.

 So when he found Master Shen.

The man sneered in derision at the audacity at this bastard of his, and to make sure he would never plague his doorstep or even dirty his name he sold Shen Jiu to another Lord, Qui Jianlou two towns over as far away as he could and the man did good on his word to travel even further away from the Shen estate.

 But during that time, he found a servant but named Yue Ge-

 But thats not important, Shen Jiu cane back to the shen estate older, stronger and strangely enough had cultivation and bloody.

He had massacred the entire Qui estate.

And Master Shen was proud and took Shen Jiu in for this showing, his own son was too weak to take over and Shen Jiu showed promise.

 And to be unafraid to spill blood?

After fighting Shen Jiu was then sent to Cang Qiong mountain, and told if he failed to become peak lird to never come back.

 And then it turns out that Master Shen had a sponsor a client who asked him to…get rid of conpetition and in turn he delivered as Wu Yanzi he killed Su Xiyan, poisoning her as she was with child but failed to kill the offspring as well.

 Luo Binghe’s existence proved Tianglang-jun loved a human.

 So Shen Qingqiu became a peak lord.

He only became such to escape, he only went to the shen estate because of his mother, and he only went there because thats all he knew.

  And then was giving a mission sent by the huan hua master and his own father.

 To kill Tianglang-jun.

But then he would be killed for treason. He laughed mirthlessly. As if he would do such a stupid thing.

 He was a peak lord, he didnt have to answer to them anymore.

And his own peak lords sent him in- uncaring.

No matter what he was sold from one master to another.

When he embarresed himself as the old palace master called his name as first husband along with the other canditates, he blee up denying it.

The old palace master was told the vote was unanimous.

 The peak lords had a meeting a voted him with shen qingqiu absent, with no say. They didnt look at him, most of all Yue Qingyuan.

 Hurt, and publically shamed, Shen Qingqiu felt empty.

The peak spoke of unity, ascend together and all that.

He never realised he was sold from one master to another.

His wedding, he was barely paying attention. He let Tianglang-jun do whatever he wanted, it was no different than Qiu jianlou.

And when it appeared that Tianglang-jun was sweet in his rare moments-

 How shocked Shen Qingqiu was to realise both where in the same boat.

His ire turned to Luo Binghe, his burden, same as how Shen Qingqiu was a burden…

Tianglang-jun was killing himself for this brat…why not free him of his obligation?

Or better yet, Qingqiu showed how dishonest he was that all humans would do nothing but hurt both of them for being demons.

He wanted Tianglang-jun to look at him.

 He will not waste away in this palace like this. He hurt Binghe taking it out on the boy.

 He tossed him into the abyss.

 And still tianglang-jun did nothing, didnt hurt him or kill him instead of rage or anger it was apathy.

It infuriated Qingqiu.

 But he never could give him a response, all the times he was kind, how he protected Qingqiu from his own father and the palace master.

Qingqiu had to repay that by helping Tianglang-jun settle a dispute with the northern clan.

 They needed a host to carry Mobei-Juns offspring and not have his brother take the throne.

Qingqiu was willing.

 But he didnt have the aptidude to be a mother so he let the clan take it and was done with it.

 Mobei the youngest almost died, he was alone at Huan hua left there by his uncle and planned revenge on those who hurt him.

When his brother Binghe killed Qingqiu he felt nothing for the one who gave him life.

 But kept one of Tianglang-Juns sons.

 Just because…

Qui haitang mascaraded as a servant, helping Luo Binghe take revenge for her brother and became first wife.

And thus, with both Tianglang-Jun dead, Huan hua came in giving Binghe the same deal. Already marrying off the same women from one heavenly demon to another. 

 Luo Binghe had no plan outside his revenge but learned that the palace master was a sponser who made qingqiu marry the emporer.

And it was him that killed Su Xiyan so Luo Binghe kills him and the shens leaving Shen Qingqiu alone a husk in the dungeon. Knowing all if this was his fault…he laughed, they wanted an assasin to break the royal family apart he succeded.

_______

Shen Qingqiu tried to keep his excitement locked in, he barely let it show on the surface, he had shut his face down to keep the surprise a secret and yet his Emperor knew him too well it seemed.

 “Hmm, is something the matter Husband?”

 Dammit.

“Nothing.”

“You’re being quiet, should this Lord be worried.”

“It’s uh, nothing too bad. Can’t this one be happy his Emporer has some free time to spend with Binghe?”

Well sure he was happy for that he just loved seeing Binghe being spoiled by his father, it was healing for all the truama and angst he was subjected to read.

 Seeing Tianglang-jun bounce Binghe on his leg and show him a new toy he found on his travels.

 It defiently dimmed Shen Qingqiu’s mood.

 It was the contract the heavenly demon signed, at sword point, to protect Binghe and the realms it was just unfair that he only had so many fleeting moments.

 The two barely had time to even have a painting together…

Now that was a thought…

No, he mentally shook his head, he planned a speical day for both of them, they couldn’t leave the palace but Shen Qingqiu thought of the next best thing.

“Junshang, young Prince, this one has planned something just for the two of you.”

 Tianglang-jun opened his mouth, he really didn’t like that Shen Qingqiu never called himself his husband or Binghe’s mother, he deserved the highest honour and he can be shameless if he wanted too, seeing him hold himself back and distance himself was heartbreaking-

 But Tianglang-jun said nothing, maybe it was a boundary and his Husband only felt comfortable showing affection this way-

“What has Husband planned in mind?”

But Tianglang-jun wants it to be known that he values his First husbands time. The marriage may have been for political reasons both never having a choice or say in the matter but making the best of it.

And yet even though Shen Qingqiu could just wile away in his pavillion and even give the responsibility to someone else and do what he likes he never had to do so much as a husband to take care of them both.

 “Well you both like stories, so this one had asked the servants to put on a performance for my Lord and the crown prince.”

 Shen Qingqiu was a little nervous but Tianglang-jun and Binghe perked.

-cue the servants beinging a large tapestry with curtains and placing a stage in the courtyard, Shen Qingqiu took his Qiqan and sat and at the nod of the servants who wore cloaks to hide their costumes nodded, the performance began.

 Shen Qingqiu played his instrument and began to narrate the story, and he made one up of Luo Binghe, the same story he used to trick the prince into reading.

He saw the prince perked and gave a secret smile as he told the adventures of Luo Binghe.

 It was airplanes first chapter before he got cyber bullied then had to rewrite the whole story as some japanise cinderlla story.

But Shen Yuan liked it the story, but then realised by trying to get Luo Binghe to read he’d have to rewrite the whole thing.

As well as not mention Luo Binghe’s parents. 

 “Luo Binghe, after losing his mother kept the jade amulet close to his chest, he climbed the stairs if Cang Qiong-“

Luo Binghe gasped “That's the Sect Shizun is from!”

 Shen Qingqiu smiled, “Correct.” He continued with the story anticipating the surprise, both Tianglang-jun was glued in fascinated with the show, and Shen Qingqiu was loving their expressions as he went into detail about Luo Binghe’s journey, bravery and perseverance at the trials.

 “And then…” he began to pluck the strings but kept the melody on loop like a pause in the story

“Which peak should Luo Binghe go to?”

He did have to think on the fly, but luckily all the stories were the same at its core so it rarely mattered just changing the peak name-

“Shizuns peak!”

 Shen Qingqiu smiled, “Very well, from the top of the summit a voice spoke after observing the hard working youth-“

 “This one will be my disciple.”

And on the stage a man appeared, looking uncomfortable and borderline crying.

“Uncle!”

“Nephew!”

Both Tianglang-jun and Binghe gasped to see Zhuzhi-lang dressed as a peak lord.

 He just came back and he admitted to Shen Qingqiu that Binghe’s birthday was coming up and they both planned this surprise.

“Shen Qingqiu was a harsh man,” Shen Qjngqiu reminded his wayward actor who stood up stiff.

 “Borderline cruel, and when Luo Binghe came before him…”

 Shen Qingqiu voice became melancholy and even the tube plucked sadly.

 “He asked why Luo Binghe wanted to be a cultivator,” He played the notes slowly, on the stage both Zhuzhi-lang and Gongyi Xiao who was the same age as Binghe kneeled before the master in this story.

 It’s all that Shen Qkmgqiu remembered of the first chapter and it was too sad, but he wanted to know what happened next but Airplane changed it, giving in to the masses.

He wondered if it was a good idea to use Binghe’s name…

“To make my mother proud.” Luo Binghe spoke, a smile on his face.

 Both Tianglang-jun and Luo Binghe watched in bafflement as Zhuzhi-lang poured cold tea on Gongyi Xiao’s head and sneered.

 “What a sorry sight to behold, no one would be proud of this.”

 Gongyi Xiao had practised this and Shen Qingqiu asked a million times if he was okay and Gongyi Xiao nodded passioned.

And his acting payed off, Luo Binghe had tears in his eyes. Shen Qingqiu was worried for a moment but had to keep going it gets better Binghe! He promises!

“Luo Binghe had no idea what he did wrong, but his Shizun seemed to be very strict with him, talking back earned him a beating, failing to understand his manual? Another beating.”

 They used shadow work for this part, and Gongyi Xiao’s pained cries was oscor worthy.

 “But one day, Shen Qingqiu began to pace in his room, his qi fluctuating, and anger in his heart.”

 Shen Qingqiu narrated and Zhuzhi-lang was playing this perfectly.

“What no one knew, and of course Shen Qingqou wouldn’t tell a soul. Was that he was not as lofty as he appeared, he himself had no mother, he had grown jelous of Luo Binghe and his potential. Shen Qingqiu was fit to qi deviations and had a faulty base, his own maritial siblings sneered down at him for it, and to see a child with potential, who had similar circumstances have the ability to surpass the master? Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear it-“

Zhuzhi-lang coughed blood and fell over in a slump-

“Uncle!”

Luo Binghe looked like he was going to run over and see if he was alright.

“This one is fine young prince-“

“Zhuzhi-lang stay in character!” Shen Qingqiu snapped making the man flinch and slap back down on the ground.

Tianglang-jun laughed and it diffused the situation.

Maybe this was too subject heavy for Luo Binghe- he’ll do a romance story after.

“After being cared for, Shen Qingqiu had suffered a qi deviation. His…his brother stayed up with him, waiting for his Shidi to wake up.”

Shen Qingqiu still felt the lump in his throat of the betrayal but shook it off.

“Where is Luo Binghe?” The first thing that cane out of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth as he awoke, and his brother face fell.

“After you beat him isn’t he where he always is? In the woodshed?” His brother spoke.

And Shen Qingqiu felt his heart skip a beat.”

He played his qin, as the actors dragged in Gongyi Xiao to his knees and zhuzhi-lang face grimaced into pain and sympathy.

 Shen Qingqiu began to pluck his strings more.

“Shen Qingqiu’s had died, the young master had perished and no one noticed. Even the anti-possesion talismans failed to pick up on such a thing. But the soul that was placed in the body of Shen Qingqiu knew Luo Binghe, it knew if he had a kind a caring master he would be the treasure of Qing Jing peak, a renowned cultivator and the pride of Cang Qiong Mountain, on the other hand if he was treat cruelly and these shadows unchanged he would come back swearing revenge on his Shizun and relaying that cruelty tenfold. The soul, easily masqueraded as the Scum Shizun with none the wiser and decided to be kind to the young disciple only to save itself, if this powerful person became indebted to him that was even better.”

 All the actors bowed.

“And that concluded part one.”

Luo Binghe was crying, and Shen Qingqiu regretted using airplanes chapter for the first part no wonder so many people hated it.

“Shizun isn’t a villain that can’t be the end!” Even Tianglang-jun looked put out.

“That was too tragic, do humans always have such sad tales?”

Oh Shen Qingqiu laughed, as he moved over towards the two as the actors began to take the set apart.

“No this is an intermission. The play is in a couple parts, this is so you can have a break, drink, go to the bathroom or stretch your legs.”

Shen Qingqiu took a drink his own throat parched.

“Its also so the actors can change costumes for the next part.”

 “But Shizun isn’t cruel…” Luo Binghe spoke and Shen Qjngqiu patted his head.

“And Luo Binghe was never raised in poverty, and had a washerwomen as a mother. This is a story but sometimes it’s based on peoples experiences. It has character arcs, and unreliable narration, things in books you’ll see, but this is also a learning tool for Binghe to learn that not all is at it seems that most people will say one thing then then their actions say something else.”

Tianglang-jun hummed “Of course, this lord doubts your Shizun would ever hurt you or even raise a hand against you.”

Shen Qingqiu’s face fell in guilt.

“This isn’t too scary for Binghe? This Shizun can tell a different story or use different names-“

“No- it’s just getting good!” Luo Bknghe pouted.

“It’s just…Shizun isn’t bad…”

Shen Qingqiu patted his head with a find huff.

 “The Shizun in this story is…complex. Some people…don’t realise they are hurting others until it’s too late, its thanks to Binghe that his Shizun goes on a journey to become a better man, the student educates the teacher and all that.” Shen Qingqiu explained, then placed a hand to his lips.

“I’m saying too much, it’s time for the second part.”

 After the messy beginning, this was when Shen Qingqiu really became passionate, it was what he envisioned for the continuation of PIDW.

 But With the twist of a transmigrated soul, how the soul kept claiming that it only wanted Binghe to like him to save his own neck in the future when the time came, but would place itself in danger during the skinner attack, as well as the attack on Cang Qiong mountain and was then took the brunt if the attack saving Luo Binghe.

 At first Shen Qingqiu thought of being hit with without a cure then felt embarrassed and how that would set up the story, so he lost his arm.

  And then the next part as the qin picked up a battle tempo about how blth Binghe and Shen Qingqiu fought side by side at the Immortal alliance, Binghe was attacked by a monty Python rhino and fell down the cliff.

 Shen Qingqiu tried to find him but his search was in vain, Luo Binghe had perished and Shen Qingqiu mourned making a burial mound and wasting away on his mountain.

 It was his fault, he wasn’t strong enough to save Luo Binghe, his cultivation lacking and nothing but a hindrance he became more strict with his disciples needing them to get stronger and learning his lesson to never get attached ever again.”

Luo Binghe when he had fallen had fell into a pocket, it transported him to someplace else and when he found himself tumbling through a cave, sore but otherwise uninjured he sensed something and when he came forward using his spiritual qi to light the way he froze to see a man wrapped up in chains, trapped in this cave for years and someone who looked familair.

 The man trapped beneath the mountain was tianlang-jun.

 And curtains fell, and Shen Qingqiu took another drink, he could see both father and son were really getting into the story. 

 He had to include the emporer! A cute father son duo story they could bond oved this.

-

After the story, after seeing Luo Binghe falling asleep, Zhuzhi-lang offers to take him to bed.

Blushing when Tianglang-jun compliments his acting.

 Shen Qingqiu fanned his face as he followed down the pathway, missing the starry eyed looks and gigles from his court.

  “Does Master Shen like his new fan?”

Shen Qingqiu hummed, it was a gift from the emporer not only was it beautiful, it was even a spirtual weapon. After teh failed assasination attempt Tianglang-jun figured it’d be best if his husband was armed.

 “Yes, it’s been very useful.” He praised, and Tianglang-jun preened.

 It seems his nephew was right that his husband would like the fan.

 He cleared his throat.

 “If in the future, this Lord has free time…would he like to accompany this Lord to the town, I hear theres a play in production there about [the man and women who can only meet once a year for the doves wings etc]”

Shen Qingqiu brightened, “Yes! This Master thinks Binghe would enjoy a proper show, this one could only do so much, but Binghe needs to learn more than to life ohtside this courtyard.”

 Tianglang-jun deflated a little, he only wanted to go with Master Shen, his nephew even lffered to babysit-

Although.

“Hmm Zhuzhi-lang should come too. Master Shen has been nothing but a diligent Shizun, but he deserves a break.”

Maybe it might make Shen Qingqiu anxious bejng away from his son, so a compromise sounds better.

-

So Tianglang-jun buys shen qingqius books for him as a surprise then blanches in horror when Shen Qingqiu says he’ll go to the bookstore. So in a panic Tianglang-jun pays more to make the owner close his shop only until the emporer leaves and payed him for his trouble-

No good for Master shen to pay for his books twice it was a surprise!

Alas when they went to get a meal, Tianglang-jun patted his pockets and realised he had no money.

Shen Qjngqiu laughed “Thank god the book store was closed.” Tianglang-jun wilted when Shen Qingqiu payed.

 And he looked like a right idiot while he was at it.

 So when they got home he requested Zhuzhi-lang reimburst.

“N-no its fine! It was your money anyway!”

Tianglang-jun took his hand, “Even so it was this Emporers fault for putting his husband in that position. Especially after asking Shen Qingqiu out in the first place, this one should be taking care of you and Binghe-“

“Silly, we’re partners. We can take care if each other.”

 Tianglang-jun looked at him in wonder.

He wanted to kiss him. So so much.

And yet that would frighten his husband, he only felt confortable knowing it was fake and Tianglang-jun never wanted to ebar his heart more-

But he’s been burned before.

He retreated.

“Very well, you did enjky yourself?”

“Very much, yes.”

“Then the day wasnmt a conplete failure.” He laughed, and even when beinging a small chuckle from Shen Qingqiu he took hisbhand and kissed it.

“Goodnight, husband.”

Shen Qingqiu was stunned,  Tianglang-jun leaving while Shen Qingqiu tried to pick up his face from the floor hiding behind his fan, When he walked into his room he saw the books piled on his desk with a note from his husband he checked them over mouth gaping in stunned surprise to know Tianglang-jun bought them-

Thats why the book store closed don’t say the emporer bought the entire shop!?

 Even so, Shen Qingqiu placed the fan to his lips, cheeks flushed feeling too much at once.

 What a silly demon. Too soft even the humans would take advantage of how sweet he was.

 It made Shen Qingqiu feel even more to protect them, in anyway shape and form from the plot.

A/n: Ironic since the mindset of Shen Qingqiu had not changed, he figured one was a burden and should die to set Tianglang-jun free. Either it was Binghe in one life and in this one himself.

________________________________

When an assasination attenlt happened it was from a demon, from the south who like Qingqiu had the same idea.

Disgusted at the idea that the Heavenly Demon their soverign leader would bend over for the humans was too disgraceful!

 So Elder Hammer who wore poison on his arm had managed to get into the courtyard declaring if the spawn didd Tianglang-jun would be free!

 Of course as if Shen Qjngqiu would sit and nod going sure have fun while your at it-

No! All that hard work will not go to waste!

Using his qi and still training even if he was a pampered wife he waan’t a layabout!

He was a cultivator!

He kept Binghe close aiming sharpened bamboo blades and they shot forward slicing agajnst the demon and all his major arteries but someone that size and with demonic healjng it would only slow him down.

“Gongyi Xiao!”

He pushed Binghe into the young lads arms “take him down the servants quarters alert tianglang-jun!”

As Gingyi Xiao slipped away, Shen Qingqiu sealed the door ripping a tailsman.

Hopefully. Tianglang-jun might make it in time.

When Tianglang-jun gkt the summons he rushed back home, the old Palace master be damned!

 Master Shen wouldn’t activate the emergency tailsman for something little- and he was right. Seeing his palace under seige he was able to make way striking down the rebellion as soon as he could.

 Gongyi Xiao the elder ran forward.

“Junshang! Thank goodness!”

“What happened?”

And where were his generals? Where was Sha Hualing?

 “Demons from the south charged the attack, Luo Binghe is hidden in the servant quarters but Master Shen.…”

Tianglang-juns heart seized.

 Did he finally do it? Did Shen Qingqiu finally reveal his hand and tried to assasinate his child?

“Master Zhuzhi-lang barely got their in time- Shen Qingqiu is in the medical bay he was struck with without a cure!”

Tianglang-jun gaped-

“What?”

“Hurry! There isn’t much time!”

Since the rebellion were defeated, and Sha Hualing also dealt with and banished for her treason Tianglang-jun found Luo Binghe picking him up close and trying to soothe his tears as they bith made their way to the medical ward.

“The man was after me- and Shizun…”

Shizun…?

 Is that what his husband told Luo Binghe to call him? Instead of father…it was probably a strange human custom.

When they entered Tianglang-jun masked his oresence and told Binghe to remain silent as bkth Qingqiu and the doctor was speaking.

 “How much time do I have, months, days?” Shen Qingqiu spoke, bracing himself for the worst.

 “You’ll live,” Mu Qingfang was their doctor who was requested to live in the palace and take care of allthe Emporers spouses.

“You’re cultivation however can halt at any time, someone has to cleanse your meridians nightly so you can ck tinye cultivating but Shixiong…you won’t be able to ascend or even progress your cultivation this way.”

“Thats fine, have you checked Binghe?”

“Binghe’s fine, had quiet a shock though.”

“Hmm, and it wont be the last, other demons and humans will stop at nothing to attack the royal family.”

“…shixiong, you can leave if it beckmes too much being struck with without a cure is grounds that the emporer is unfit to keep you safe-“

“It’s managable. And he came just in time, theres no need for such fuss.”

Tianglang-jun knocked and both Peak Lords straightened as he entered.

“See Binghe, he’s fine.” Tianglang-jun spoke placing the lad down and watching the toddler climb up Shen Qingqiu’s lap, the other adjusting his son and resting back against the pillows looking soft.

Tianglang-jun couldn’t explain what he was feeling, only frustration that he didnmt cone in time.

 Shen Qingqiu’s arm was bandaged and bleeding, Tianglang-jun used his blood larasites to scope the area and felt without a cure festering away at the limb, if it continues the man could lose the use of his arm-

 The blood larasites swarmed eating the poison, and using the energy to heal the wound.

 “Binghe was so brave.” Shen Qjngqiu spoke looking at his son with pride, a shane his son didnt share the sentiment.

“Shizun was hurt.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed, “this? This is nothing this Master has had worse.”

And everyone in the rolm believed it.

Luo Binghe more so when he began to cry.

“Shizun should never be hurt!” 

Shen Qingqiu awkardly held his son clise but patted his back making cooing noises, Tianglang-jun asked to see the doctor alone.

 “There is a cure for without a cure- but it’s unconventinal.”

Mu Qingfangs eyes widened “What-“

“Duel cultivation with a heavenly demon. 

But Shen Qingqiu even with threat of death doesnt seem confortable with men. This Lord has respected such wishes, perhaps theres a way Mu Qinggang can convert such things to a pill for him to ingest instead.”

Mu Qingfangs hummed, “it depends on how Dual Cultivation works, is it the dual energies, or kther attributes we’ll try it one way but if that doesn’t work, this one will have to tell his Shixiong even if he’s uncknfortable it coukd save his life.”

“Only if he agree’s.”

_____

“Ah…” Shen Qingqiu stared at the packed and Mu Qjngfang lokked serious.

“Take two a day, if Without a cure doesn’t subside then there’s the next option.”

“Which is?”

“Duel cultivation with a heavenly demon.”

“Ah.”

Shen Qingqiu tyoe of embarresment was different to others instead of blushing a bright red, instead he became quiet. Too many enotions to appear on the surface so none show on his face.

 “Do I…swallow them?”

“No…” Mu Qingfangs eyes flickered down and Shen Qingqiu became more pale.

“Ah, right.”

“Does this Doctor have to explain-“

“N-no need this one understands.”

Dear lord.

When Shen Qingqiu had a bath and prepared for bed he glanced at the two pills placing one on the tip of his finger.

 He took a breath, think it could be the heavenly pillar its just a tiny pill he’ll be fine!

 But imagining Tianglang-jun doing such a thing, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t blind the man was handsome!

 But even so, he loved Su Xiyan. This was just a political marriage and havjng the man gaze at him with nothing but enptiness in his eyes…

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear it.

But if he inagined his emporer on the second dose and ended up going further than he should, thats between him and god.

Thankfully it only required two doses as he awoke feeling lighter like going to bed with a migraine and waking up with it gone!

 He told Mu Qingfang, ecstatic and the healer checked his meridians-

And when Mu Qingfang asked Tianglang-jun to supply him more of the ‘cure’ he was met with a dry look.

“Good doctor, it’s hard enough to satisfy my wives to bear more heirs when this lord wants nothing of the sort, I don’t think its physically possible.”

Tianglang-jun was already givjng wverything he could to the cultivation world he wouldn’t be surprised if he died they would take his body apart and make cultivation materials from his own body!

Mu Qinggang hummed, a bit miffed that someone who had the cure did nothing for others.

Although…he did supply a lot for Shen Qkngqiu, Mu Qjngfang had the thiught it the two just got over it and Duel cultivated both would have another mini Binghe on the way.

 …huh…now thats a thought…

_________________________

Tianglang-jun didn’t like his wives, and the feeling was mutual. It wasn’t hatred just nuetral bordeom.

 He was a lover of the arts, while they were warriors nothing in common at all.

 When they said it didn’t take and he had no new heirs a weight lifyed of his shoulders then dread that he would have to do it all over again.

And worse he was havimg mutinous thoughts of moving Shen Qingqiu and his son into the Sun Pavillion.

The pavillion he made for Su Xiyan. It was their home, where she was expected to live and all of them would be a family.

 It didn’t feel right, having Shen Qingqiu who stepped up in place as a mother and took care kf not knly Binghe but Tianglang-jun asking for nothing in return.

 He wasnt replacing Su Xiyan, but he felt it fair to word for Shen Qjngqius efforts.

 But then their was his first wife, Qin Wanyrue.

 The miscarriage. The girl was under a lot of pressure from her sect and from the cultivation world, the stress unbearable she was the one who lied about having a son and in a panic both adopted Gongyi Xiao.

 Then Tianglang-jun decided to use miracle elixers and yes children were born…but they weren’t demons. 

 For a demonic energy to be hosted by humans of spirtual energy it just wasn’t possible…

 And it appeared there was  some type of race whoever had a baby second to Luo Binghe would reflect on the cultivation world.

Even a lie, Huan hua were smug they had a child first [With Qin Wanyrue and Gongi Xiao only as the figure heads the palace master and princess would be in power pulling the strings once the demon emporer died]

  Tianglang-jun noticed during the demon invasion most kf the servants were collatoral- so many children left without parents.

So he gave them to the wives and told them to pretend. Until further solutions came it would shut up the sects, even so it wasn’t looking good for only one heavenly demon child and tge rest were human. 

The cultivation world will have to settle on human Princes and demon kings. No matter what Binghe will he the next emporer wether they liked it or not, but to appease the sects he tood them the order of princes since the sects were also butting heads on who was better.

 He told them the order of wives.

So Gongyi Xiao was now raised under Qin wanrong.

Ming Fan under Ning Yingying.

And Yue Zixian under Liu Mingyan.

And Shang Xihua for Qui Haitang.

The last prince and the royal familys lunshing bag.

Now they could all breathe.

______________________________

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t believe it- so they weren’t even Binghe’s siblings!? 

 Although the bullying under Shen Qingqiu and suddenly having servants treat the crown prince cruelly no wonder Luo Binghe was pissed.

And the ones with elixers- the wives just reproduced asexually!!! They weren’t tianglang-juns at all!

 Until one day, Tianglang-jun said he had a surprise for him. Most majority of his husbands surprises have never failed before.

 “This Emporor invited your brother for tea,” He moved Shen Qingqius chair as he stood gaping at the imposing figure.

 Well…there can be exceptions.

“This husband has been hogging Master Shen it appears this one has failed to be filial to his brother in law!” 

 Tianglang-jun kissed Shen Qingqiu on the head, “let this lord know if uou need me.” And activated a silence barriar for bkth him and the sect leader Yue Qingyuan.

…he bet Zhuzhi-lang put something ridicoulous in that mans head.

“Shen-Shidi, you are looking well.” 

Shen Qingqiu glared at him over his fan, still feeling the sting as his sect siblings had turned their back on him.

“Is Shidi going to talk to me?”

  “You betrayed me.”

You wouldn’t know who was more surprised, Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu.

The words slipped out, almost as if the original goods came back to spit curses at his sect leader. 

 “...Shen-Shidi-”

“You just decided…to marry off this master instead of yourself, without consulting this Master at all, my own Peak dissolved and you let this Master humiliate himself in front of the entire cultivation world by calling it into question and not once were you transparent.”

Shen Yuan tried, before the conference, thinking if he just…changed and proved he was a good Shidi and was polite and helpful to his siblings showing maybe if he wasn’t married he wouldn’t then be in such a position and they can all avoid Luo Binghe destroying them all. Or at least, they would include him in the meeting…ask- they threw Shen Jiu under the bus and Shen Yuan thought the Scum deserved it, he was crooked a villain and now? Now he realised that the entire Cang Qiong were never a family, he let his expression show, and if Tianglang-jun was peeping in on them would realise how much of a mistake this was.

 “This Master had no choice-”

“What? Too many voices saying how much they want to get rid of me? At least Qi Qingqi would make sense as she was a women and the cultivation world was looking for wives- did you hate me that much? Glad to finally get rid of such a burden?”

Maybe Shen Jiu was right, and saw through the polite mask and knew that the mountain hated him, wanted him gone-

 Yue Qingyuan sighed closing his eyes, looking pained, and for a moment Shen Qingqiu faltered feeling bad then straightened not showing weakness.

 “This one, if he had the power, never wanted Shen-Shidi to go. No one was happy with the vote and no one was pleased about keeping you in the dark.” 

 Yue Qingyuans eyes opened looking him in the eyes, “It was this Qingyuans choice to keep Shen-Shidi in the dark, to make it more believable.”

“Believable? What on earth are you talking about!?”

“This Masters hands were tied- Shen Qingqiu, the Sect Leaders kept it quiet, but the threat of Tianglang-Jun was more severe than it lead the world to believe and…other information came to light.”

Shen Qingqius eyes narrowed, “What information?”

Yue Qingyuan looked away then spoke, “Shen Shidi is the master strategist and has been doing well by integrating here as First Husband, he was the best choice to survive in this type of environment-”

“You are changing the subject, if you think evading the topic will make it easier it won’t, if you continue to talk in circles this Qingqiu see’s no point in talking to you civil like, it’d be best you leave.” Shen Qingqiu snapped.

 “Shen-Shidi-”

“Keeping this one ignorant will create more danger, so just tell me.”

Yue Qingyuan gaped then sighed, “Shen-Shidi was blackmailed, if he wasn’t sent as a candidate to The Heavenly Palace.”

“...What?”

Yue Qingyuans smile was rueful “As a…lower concubine in a less ostentatious pavilion, Cang Qiong agreed…it wasn’t our fault we couldn’t foresee the emperor…favouring Shen-Shidi so and making him first husband.”

Wait…no, he was already promised the role of first husband as-oh…

 They had no choice to give him up- but they damn well made sure he was ‘comfortable’ so what nodded and pretended they would do as the blackmailed said but actually put Shen Qingqiu in their eyes somewhere safer, like a witness protection program raising a middle finger to the blackmailer while they were at it.

“And Shidi showed no intention of hurting the emperor, and this one figured Tianglang-jun had more power and resources to keep Shen-Shidi safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“Shen Qingqius past. The blackmailer had evidence of Shen Qingqiu’s family, and their ties to demonic cultivation. Once that comes to light Cang Qiong mountain couldn’t protect Shidi from these allegations.”

…”You have no idea who sent the blackmail?”

“We are still looking into it, and the Shen Family at least your father has already been exposed as Wu Yanzi.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened behind his fan- the hell? What type of plot twist was that!?

The only thing he knew was that Wu Yanzi assisanted…the empress.

 His face paled, his father killed Tianglang-juns wife.

“Already Shidi has proven his blackmailers wrong, if he was the son of an assassin and followed in his footsteps both Tianglang-jun or Luo Binghe would be dead by now,” Yue Qingyuan spoke. 

 It’s true it’s been years, and Luo Binghe was already sixteen, just another year for the immortal alliance conference to show off the princes skills as well as neighbouring Sects in a show of goodwill and talent.

 Even so, Shen Qingqiu was sent as an assassin? And Cang Qiong agreed to it only knowing that Tianglang-jun would keep Shen Qingqiu safe-

 Huh, it just shows what happens in the palace stays in the palace, no one knew of the assasination attempts on both Binghe and his own life!

He literally suffered from without a cure! He could’ve died!

Yue Qingyuan- the best Big Brother someone in another life could ask for, and Shen Qingqiu did still feel fod for him. 

 Felt even more awful knowing he only had good intentions. Yue Qingyuan only saw the good aspects- argh 

 When Shen Qingqiu only spoke highly and favourably of Tianglang-jun and his idolisation of Su Xiyan- it was only proving to others that he wouldn’t kill the royal family!

Ugh! Imagine if he was an assassin! 

 They make it too easy! Although same rules apply, if he was caught then he would be in trouble meanwhile the blackmailers would be fine.

“What if my father?”

“Dead. For his crimes, most of the Shen Estate has payed for it as well, the cultivation world has even demanded you as well but being the favoured first husband…” 

 Shen Qingqiu hummed closing his fan.

But inside? To think he just sailed by death without even realising- Yue Qingyuan these talks aren’t good for his Heart!

“What else?”

“By pretending to cut of ties with Shidi, cang Qiong was watching the other sects and who would be most suspicious, when the information came to light about Wu Yanzi, it came from Huan Hua.”

…hah! He knew it! Shen Yuan KNEW their was buildup from the original story that airplane forgot about!

 “The only reason Huan Hua had information is because they are the ones who had the Shen Estate under their payroll.” Shen Qingqiu hypothosised.

 His brow furrowed.

“But exposing Wu Yanzi after all those years of servitude? And only realising that this Shidi has no plan to harm the royal family is suspicious…if the goal os to eliminate Tianglamg-jun and his heirs and you get rid of the only trump card means that Huan hua-if they are the peritrators- have found someone else.”

“Who?”

“This one…doesn’t know.”

 He honestly knew nothing about Shen Jiu’s past- hell he didn't even know he was raised to be an assassin- it was so conflicting.

 He thought he was the son of a rich family a spoiled noble and yet some chapters hinted at Shen Jiu being an orphan-and if he didn't figure this out soon he could lose everything.

 Yue Qingyuan looked down.

 “This Qingyuan…this one had no intention of upsetting Shen Qingqiu or making him believe Cang Qiong didn’t want you- the opposite. Everyone wanted you to stay but knew barely keeping Tianglang-jun contained was a miracle-“

“You don’t have to explain- but…someone is going to attack Tianglang-jun or myself. And this one can’t gather information outside this palace. You’ll have to be my eyes and ears. Can you do that?”

Yue Qingyuan perked up, “Yes. Anything Xi-Shen Shidi commands this Master will do everything in his power to do so.”

Once he left both bowing and Tianglang-jun joking about his next visit Shen Qingqiu gave him an amused smile.

With Yue Qingyuan gone did he finally tease.

 “So you heard everything huh?”

Tianglang-jun sighed, “Yes it was so disappointingly boring, this Lord thought my husband would wax poetry about his handsome emporer and how lucky he was to have me and yet it was politics.” He stuck his to gue out and Shen Qingqiu gaped.

 “Did you stop listening halfway through?”

“Yes, was it important? Did you tell that young man how great of a husband this Lord is?”

Shen Qingqiu was unsure if he was being serious enough.

 “Well handsome enough to not enact an assasination attempt then yes.”

“Huh? Assasination? Husband!”

He hit him with his fan “So you wern’t listening! Always be vigilant!”

“Why!?” Tianglang-jun was fake crying, “I trust my husband!”

And that…shouldn’t break his heart as it should even Tianglang-juns teasing smile faded.

“You shouldn’t- even with me you shoukd never let your guard down with anyone, especially not me.”

 Tianglang-jun hummed, “yes yes, my little assassin. Ah I remember now all those time you tried to kill me…with kindness.”

“This Master is being serious.”

“So is this emperor.” He said in the most unserious tone ever.

“Ugh, you are so frustrating.” It slipped out, but Tianglang-Jun looked even more proud to not take this seriously at all- how is he not dead yet or buried in a ditch somewhere!?

“Husband loves me so.” He spoke, with nothing but pure joy at the fact.

…It this was Shen Jiu who was the assassin then this would’ve been so easy.

_______________________________________________________________________

When it was revealed- Shen Qingqiu couldn’t wait to tell Binghe about his new baby brother on the way, Binghe was busy following in his fathers footsteps going out and sending a commands with Gongyi Xiao as his general. Both were making headway with the sowers and doing pretty well.

 But Binghe always cried begging his Shizun for a little brother, and after talking with Mobei the Elder they had finally did it. And Shen Qingqiu held off telling Binghe until after- he was still freakin out about it unlike girls he was never really emotionally prepared for kids or even hosting them he was going to tell Binghe after, it was going so well!

 But when Qui Haitang showed her hand trying to kill Binghe, to hurt Qingqiu like how the scum villain killed her brother.

 “You stole my life from me! Now this Haitang will return the favour!” Binghe fell, but not before he lashed out, grabbing Haitang and pulling her with him into the abyss!

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t breathe- he stumbled forward throat burning and realising he was screaming, the abyss snapped shut before he could even make it to the edge.

 Shen Qingqiu suffered a qi deviation. At the death of Luo Binghe [if the cultivation world thought he did it, they were all witness to his state] He was alone in his pavilion, knowing Luo Binghe would return but he thought he spared him his fate- he didn’t push him in but if he knew there was some way- he would prepare him!

He created a quqin it was for Binghe- he wanted to gift it to him but now…when he came to it was destroyed so he started recarving the wood and remaking it- the servants unsure how to proceed when he told him it was for Binghe it had to be better-

Then one day, he realised something…something was missing.

He placed his hand onto his stomach…feeling nothing- he panicked- no, don’t say he lost them both-

He ran around frantically, the servants stopping him “Master Shen what is the matter-”

“M-Mobei what happened to Mobei!” He was not hysterical. There was a gap in his memory, it was like he was asleep and now wide awake he couldn’t remember what happened at the abyss but what happened to the child!?

 “Get the Emperor now!”

“Master Shen, please calm down!”

And he realised something even more horrifying. He did not recognise the staff, not one person. Had they changed staff or- where was Gongyi Xiao? Where was the young princes?  

When Tianglang-Jun finally found him, Shen Qingqiu stared eyes wide. Tianglang-Jun looked just as bad as he felt. “Husband.” Shen Qingqiu’s eyes burned, but this was important. “What happened to Mobei?”

Tianglang-Jun lips pressed together and Shen Qingqiu’s legs buckled, Tianglang-jun grabbed him before Shen Qingqiu could steady himself “I lost him?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice wheezed-

He already failed him once by losing Binghe and now Mobei-Jun as well? He had one job-

“Husband you didn’t lose him Mobei-Jun is healthy and alive with his father!” 

“What?” but how-

“The Qi deviation set the delivery early, husband was not…well to raise him. His Father requested Mobei be placed in his custody.”

Probably messed that up making Tianglang-jun have to fix his messes, Shen Qingqiu should be taking care of him.

 “This one made a mess of things-”

“Husband did not,” Tianglang-jun gathered him close fully supporting his weight. “Husband did nothing wrong, but please-” His voice sounded wrecked, and it broke Shen Qingqius heart to hear it. “Come back to me.”

What?

 Then Shen Qingqiu stiffened, “H-how long has it been?”

“A couple months now-”

Shen Qingqius eyes widened in horror, months- Tianglang-jun cupped his face-

“Please, don’t go away again-”

Shen Qingqiu snapped out of it shaking his head and latching onto the emperors hand “It’s fine- this Master is okay now.” 

 He left Tianglang-jun to deal with this alone- he was a terrible husband! He knew Binghe was coming back if he could slap himself in the face he would- wait.

…There was a moment where Shen Qingqiu after getting rid of Luo Binghe took Mobei to his home to see his future kingdom since Tianglang-jun was grieving for Luo Binghe [and celebrating his freedom since the contract was now void]

 And Mobei-Jun was kidnapped by Huan Hua because of Linguan-jun which meant-

“Husband- can this one…visit Mobei-Jun and apologise for the mess to the Northern King?”

Tianglang-jun wanted to say no, but after seeing Shen Qingqius face and finally seeing that light in his eyes again, he couldn’t say no.

-saving MBJ from Huan Hua- Teaching Mobei-Jun to be less rough- importance of being gentle and strength.

 After hearing the news that Mobei-Jun was missing, Shen Qingqiu knew he couldn’t just barge down Huan Hua doors with no proof and no idea where his son even was!

 So when he vanished leaving Tianglang-jun in a fright wondering where his husband disappeared off to- Shen Qingqiu donned a disguise and made his way to the south, after going to an inn to pay for some food and gossip he barely had to spare a coin as a bunch of Huan Hua disciples laughed about the little demon they had in their dungeon and how fun it was to mess with-

Shen Qingqiu barely bothered to remain, anger and frustration with himself, others would look back on that day and would say he was like a demon-

 How the great Master and Husband of Tianglang-jun blasted down the doors to Huan Hua disarming cultivators and easily invading the sect.

Most thought he lost his mind, other sects coming to arms along with Cang Qiong to see Shen Qingqiu enraged holding a demon child in his arms.

 “May Huan Hua explain why they have my son in their dungeons!” He yelled for the whole world to hear.

 After that Cang Qiong knew by the look that was a northern demon, everyone thought the baby perished but to see the man hold the child, Yue Qingyuan stepped in shielding Shen Qingqiu who looked ready to murder anyone who even so much as comes close.

 And thats when the demons arrived.

Overall Shen Qingqiu’s reputation with the demons skyrocketed, even Mobei-Jun the elder had approved finally giving his blessing to have the Southern Emperor and his Spouse raise Mobei-Jun. The youngest looking up at wonder at the one who gave his life and saved it.

The cold glare and frost directed at his uncle suddenly warmed when his eyes gazed at him. Mobei-jun never knew warmth until that moment. 

 It was drastically different living at the southern Palace instead of the north. Shen Qingqiu wrapped in layers and moved into a colder pavilion for Mobei-Jun.

Shang Qinghua always frequented being a playmate for young Mobei-Jun, Shen Qingqiu even made it mandatory.

 Qinghua didn’t like this “When I wrote the character, I loved him, but this Qinghua had no clue how much of a spoiled brat he was.”

 Shen Qingqiu paused and gazed at Qinghua shrewdly.

 “...Bro? Why are you staring at me?”

“Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun married in the original story, yes?”

“Uh yeah?” Shang Qinghua looked adorably confused, but Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure who to be upset at or if he even should be wary in the first place.

 “And he’s your favourite character?” “Yes- what is this about?” “Are you planning on marrying Mobei-Jun in the future?”  

Shang Qinghua stared, “Bro don’t even joke about that-”

“Because your related? Why did you write such a thing?”

Shang Qinghua almost physically jumped in the air “Wait- no- we’re not related Tianglang-jun is not my father!”

He squeaked now Shen Qingqiu’s gaze narrowed “What?”

[Qinghua explained that none of the children are the father except for Mobei-Jun and Binghe.]

“HUh? HOW!?”

“Strong cultivators who can take demonic energy. Su Xiyan was strong enough to host a demonic offspring and so could Yue Qingyuan if he wanted- but Shen Qingqiu,” “This Master’s cultivation isn’t that strong,” he suffered from Qi deviations all the time so QInghua wiggled under his stare.

 “Well it was thanks to Wu Yanzi, Shen Qingqius body had suffered demonic cultivation as a base and uh…Wu Yanzi never wanted Shen Qingqiu recognised as his son so he basically molded him to be a cauldron…your body was literally made for this although…Wu Yanzi probably didn’t intend you to birth the new Royal family.”

Shen Qingqiu might strangle him “Why did you not write this?”

“Well I was! But you saw how people responded to my first draft! So I played it safe!” 

Anyway, Shen Qingqiu raised the two together, even though Qinghua would pull faces and pick up Mobei-Jun and play even when he looked tired it still made Shen Qingqiu feel at ease that someone was looking after Mobei-Jun.

 Although the two having a fight was to be expected.

 “Your a spoiled brat!” Shang Qinghua yelled, he looked pretty mad- When Shen Qingqiu came over his mouth fell open at the ripped paper on the floor and Qinghua in tears.

 “I’m never talking to you ever again!” He ran away before Shen Qingqiu could even ask what was going on, tears in his eyes.

 Mobei-jun glared at the paper, “This prince wanted that.” he pointed at the paper ripped on the floor, oh Shen Qingqiu sighed as he picked Mobei-Jun up and asked the servants to clean up the paper and try to fix it if they could.

 It seems he spoiled Mobei-Jun too much,

But unlike Binghe who soaked up attention and tried to be better, Mobei-Jun wasn’t learning the same way the two couldn’t be more different. He was a quiet child and didn’t speak much so it was hard to tell if something was wrong until it was too late.

 Tianglang-Jun even joked about it, “He’s more like Xiyans son than Binghe.” Then grimaced, Shen Qingqiu smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes “Yes, he might need to go to the demon clan with you instead. This one has taught him everything he can but Mobei-Jun must be stifling in this pavilion.” 

And Mobei-Jun wasn’t interested in the same things the family was, plays that used to make Binghe laugh? Mobei-Jun saw no point. Stories? He could never quiet understand the story and took it at face value.

 So Shen Qingqiu decided another outlet was probably better. He began teaching Mobei-Jun to fight.

 And that improved his mood alot, his expressions were slight but he could tell when Mobei-Jun was happy or upset. Of course Shen Qingqiu could only teach him so much…

When he came back from huants with his Father, Mobei-Jun was…bigger. When asked spiritually made children aged faster but mentally were still a child but Shen Qingqiu ended up treating Mobei-Jun like he was smarter than he was. Mobei-Jun seemed to like being treat like an adult even if he was only a couple years old. He was half Shen Qingqius height and was taught how to fight and defend himself.

He saw nothing wrong with this until one day, he found Mobei-Jun beating up and hitting Shang Qinghua.

 Shen Qingqiu immediately put a stop to it, and even yelled at Mobei-Jun and of course the boy had frustrated tears in his eyes and it was the first time he cried and for a moment Shen Qingqiu almost softened then hardened his heart. 

 Shang Qinghua face was swollen and kept flinching around Mobei-Jun it had to stop.

“Humans are more weaker than Demons- and hitting others is not okay.” 

Mobei-Jun only looked more frustrated and confused.

So Shen Qingqiu had to explain that in demon society fighting was about dominance, showing strength or even polite depending on the clan. But humans don’t like being hit, he had to be more gentle.

Mobei-Jun saw no point in this.

 “How can this one know his partner is strong, if he can’t handle a few beatings.”

“Who told you that?” No way Mobei-Jun thought this nonsense up himself, 

So Shen Qingqiu ends up giving Mobei-Jun a fruit, that he had to peel without destroying it. Shen Qingqiu peels it easily and Mobei-jun is frustrated that he can’t do such a simple thing.

 And Shen Qingqiu wanted him to learn a lesson but when he sees Mobei-jun trying to peel the fruit everyday looking frustrated Shen Qingqiu had an idea.

 “Mobei-jun can you break this fruit for me.” Shen Qingqiu watches how Mobei-jun easily does such a thing and Shen Qingqiu eats it offering him a piece.

 And then Mobei-jun watches Shen Qingqiu struggle.

Blth try for days until one day, Shen Qingqiu breaks it looking proud and smug. Mobei-jun gapes.

“See? Still think this master is weak now?”

Mobei-jun never thought this man who gave him life was weak, he remembered how he saved him from that hot and awful dungeon.

  But if his Mama could open the fruit, then Mobei-jun can do it too. If humans can work hard to be strong, then demons can strive to be gentle. Humans strength couldn’t be measured the same.

 Mobei-jun finally peeled the fruit. 

And he gave it to Qinghua who flinched then stared at the fruit confused and even unsure.

 “For you.”

“Oh…thanks?” He saw cucumber bro giving him a thumbs up and was completely lost but took it and even ate a piece when Mobei-juns staring became unnerving.

What the hell was that about?

___

Anyway- Old Palace Master admitting to funding wu yanzi and his illegal activities.

-Luo Binghe returning from the abyss thinking Shen Qimgqiu and his father replaced him esp with Mobei-jun calling Qingqiu ‘mama’ something Luo Binghe could never call Qingqiu but Mobei-jun can?

 -Shen Jiu is reborn as a son. He and qingqiu talk that he never saw Tianglang-jun that way he was already in love with someone and when Tianglang-jun took care of him it felt transactional he had to because they were husbands if he abused Qingqiuthe cultivation world will strike.

Tianglang-jun on the rare occasions he could surprise his cute husband and son, usually struggled trying to get gifts for his hisband he got him so many thkngs but Shen Qingqiu would sniff uniterested and said it woukd clutter up his storage and if its out kf sight? What use was it? He was tricky, but then he heard him talkimgbwith Qinghua one day. After adopting him once haitang vanished the two got closer- he overheard his husbands love for demonic beasts.

Shen Qingqiu eyes widened “Husband! Do you like it!”

Give head lats please- no Even if your the emporeor you can’t just make your own demon zoo on a whim!

“Do you want to pet him?”

Shen Qingqiu’s fingers itched, he could pet a monty python rhinoceros!?!?!?!?

 “Very well simce Husband went through the trouble.”

Tianglang-jun guided his hands and watched how gentle his husband was and cooed at the beast.

And he was holding his hand. Win win.

 -Qingqiu gives Tianglang-jun a painting of Su Xiyan- talk that qingqiu is not replacing xiyan that he will hold her in his heart but qingqiu has done nothing but be the best husband and risen up to the occasion without asking for anything back? That tianglang-jun wants to spoil him, know his husband learn about him and talk through the night about the recent yellow books they’re just read how he could just watch Qingqiu rant and become impassioned and tear the book to shreds Tianglang-jun agrees but feels more flexible with the story but can see the issues meanwhile qingqiu looks like he would tear someones head of for it.

 Tinaglang-jun clasps his hands telling him he wants to marry Qingqiu, not for political reasons, not for ulterior motives. He wants to spend the rest of his life trying fo figure out his husband and keep him by his side with the possesivness of a demon.

 And Shen Qingqiu burns red unsure how to take this as far as he knows this cane out of nowhere!

Tianglang-jun tells him he wants to marry Shen Qingqiu if he’ll have him.

 T-there are plenty of people-

All the marriages are dissolved. Without binghe theres nothing keeping me here in the human realm, the cultivators can’t use me for their own agendas anymore there is nothing for me here.

Except for you. Even if you don’t want to marry this emporer and want to remain friends this one will gladly stay for you, where you go this one will follow!

 Shen Qingqiu needed to sit down- or pikch himself to wake up.

But…marriages…dissolved- Binghe was missing years ago he could’ve left any time but he stayed…

 And the thought kf waking up without Tianglang-jun… the time he can finally no longer go on missions or be in court and wake up spoiled in his husbands bed-

Qingqiu wanted that. He wanted that all the time.

 “Yes.”

The thought of going home to the sect- but no…they didn’t want him. If Tianglang-jun dismissed him Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t return. Blackmail or no- they proved they would never defend him or they wished they could but had to appease those in power. Yue Qingyuan always did that tried to appease both side with that smile on his face and mitigate the damage.

But Tianglang-jun wants him to stay, even at the thought of being free and could easily remove this burden its the one chain he wants to keep his arm wrapped in. 

Tianglang-jun was waxing poetry about his hair but paused “yes?”

When he said yes, it held everything he dared to believe his fear his hope, and longing. He wanted to stay, and Tianglang-jun saw it in his eyes, feeling breathless and elated unable to believe that his husband said yes!  

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu nodded, with more strength and confidence, then smiled. “A demon wedding.”

Tianglang-juns eyes widened “Are you sure? Demons will try to kidnap you-“

Shen Qingqku raised an eyebrow “Will they? Or will they kidnap my husband instead.” He placed a hand on Tianglang-juns chest that was always too low and exposed skin and slid up.

 “Maybe this Qingqiu will have to rescue you…”

“Husband-“

Shen Qingqiu pushed him away.

 “Ah ah, not until the wedding. We shouldn’t even be talking without a chaperone.”

Tianglang-jun gaped “Husband!”

Afterall they didnmg really consumate the marriage so his honlur was still on the line. 

-Shen qingqiu forgot one thing…if Binghes pillar was large enough to be called heavenly then his fathers pillar would be…

…

…

…

“T-this one will go on top instead…” the room felt loud in its silence as Shen Qingqiu gaped.

“You don’t have to look too pleased ablut it!”

__________

“Just this one…just for us, after all Mobei-jun is staying at the northern palace longer establishing his rule…”

Tianglang-jun pouted “I could help! But he’s embarresed by his dad…”

Shen Qingqiu leaned on him, turns out lying on top and smothering Tianglang-jun calms him down like a dog with anxiety needing a vest.

 “He wants to do it with his own strength. He has this strange fascination with being string but its not for strength sake he’s growing up so fast.”

 “Yes soon it’ll just be us too in the sun pavillion.”

“…what if this husband and you…make another…”

“Anlther what?”

“Anotger one a sibling to mobei-jun.”

Tianglang-juns hands clenched on his arms still gentle “husband?”

“Just ours. No reason, or political gain, just ours.” Shen Qingqiu hummed, “Luo Binghe always wanted a little brother he’ll be excited when he gets back”

Tianglang-jun hands touched his face concerned “Qingqiu?”

“He’ll come back. This one knows it.” Luo Binghe survives the abyss he knows he will.

___

“Whats the name of our lotus?” Tianglang-jun asked and Shen Qingqiu hummed “How about Shen Jiu, or would you want your name?”

Tianglang-jun laughed, “Until its my turn to make offspring then this lord will name them- this lord likes Shen Jiu.”

…

“It’s funny how even this one acts with the same cold brutality of my Xiyan.” Yeah it was odd then again it could be the body of the scum villain making them all what? Dna of the evil stepmother making them evil? He hoped not.

 “They’ll thaw out after a while.” He hummed leaning against Tianglang-jun.

When Shen Qingqiu prepared for bed his one year old now standing stared at him, scissors in hand. Shen Qingqiu tensed.

 “Baobei, hmm lets put the scissors down its sharp-“

The kne year old raised it.

 “Who you calling baobei fake! Thats my body!” Huh?

“One moment its me whose married to that fool now its you!?”

 Shen Qingqij snatched the scissors tossing them and picked up the baby.

“Shen Jiu!?”

“You even called me that name??? Die! Die by a thousand arrows!”

Tears streamed down the babys face and he began to cry.

Binghe was so much better than this he could hear the jokes now “I’m the one that made the parents want more kids- you’re the one that made them stop!”

“Shh shh, its alright…”

“It’s not that beast will come back and kill us!”

“He won’t. Binghe’s a good boy and a great big brother. Shh, dry those tears.”

When Binghe was being…difficult, even he was too much of a sweet bun to leave an impact.

 Shen Jiu on the other hand was like the tasmanian devil!

Any sharp object had to be hidden the pavillion child proof and Shen Jiu had a strange habit of biting so Shen Qingqiu commisioned a teething ring for him.

Overall he was tired.

 And the worst part?

He calmed down with tianglang-jun, going limp and floppy in the mans arms sucking on his ring and glaring at Qingqiu.

The man threw his hands up.

“Fine! Since you like him more than your papa who gave birth to you! I see how it is!”

He was still fuming after having to walk away and cool off.

He wanted to just dump that brat on Tianglang-jun and wash his hands clean but decided not too.

 He commisioned tiny brushes for Shen Jius small hands and decided to write his letters wjth Shen jiu present.

 “You will begin reading and writing, you still retain your memories but your coordination will need some work.”

 So Shen jiu struggled he knew the characters but couldn’t grip his pen right he handmt practised the muscle yet.

 So Shen Qingqiu used a hair tie wrapped it around Shen Jiu’s fingers and the other began to write in wonder.

Then it became known that the new son and heir of Tianlang-jun and Shen Qingqiu was a genius. And of course the cultivation world had to pay their respects to the emperor.

 Yue Qingyuans reaction to seeing their son was like a punch to the gut.

 Of course their son looked exactly like his Xiao Jiu.

 Even the way his brat stood tall, chin raised high and nose scrunched into a sneer.

…Shen Qingqiu will have to get him a fan.

 Shen Qingqiu accepted the meltdowns if Shen Jiu wasn’t bejng cold and aloof he ended up giving into his impulse kicking, screaming-

And not a normal scream, high pitched bust your ear drums scream.

“I hate you!”

“I know…”

 Shen Qingqiu even let Shen Jiu beat him with his fists- he’s a cultivator he can handle it-

 But once Shen Jiu finally got his anger out he began to cry.

 Eyes aged beyond their years and trapped in a child frustrated to being a slave to his emotions.

 Shen Qkngqiu drew him close playing the quqin and humming a song.

 “It’ll pass, you’ll be older befkre you know. Play this yourself one day.”

 Shen Jiu clutched his robes and thats hiw Tianglang-jun found them.

 It was a routine Shen Qingqiu established. He liked being kept busy, and told Tianglang-jun he need his iwn hobbies away.

 Wu yanzi isn’t dead-

 The palace master is and-

Shen Qingqiu was on another trip with his husband and both were havjng fun lretending to be hinourable cultivatirs and even more so when Tainglang-jun purposfully held himself back so Qingqiu could look like a badass.

And wu yanzi ends up killing shen qingqiu in public loudly proclaiming-

 “This is how you assassinate, boy!”

Shen Qingqiu died.

How? How in the flying fuck is he dead!?

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes blinked open -huh? 

He could’ve sworn he died.

 “See, I told you Necromancy was my specialty. Qui Haitang is standing before you, and now my precious son and yet you still doubt me?��

Shen Qingqiu gazed up, and saw the Old Palace Master, as well as Qui Haitang along with…Luo Binghe!?

 Luo Binghe spoke, eyes devoid.

 “Why did you kill him in the first place if you needed his body?”

“The world needs to believe Shen Qingqiu died, afterall once we’re done the body will no longer look like Shen Qingqiu.”

…What the fuck? What the fuck is going on.

Shen Qingqiu gaped “Binghe!? Whats the meaning of this?”

Why was he working with Wu Yanzi and the Palace Master!

 “Don’t worry, son. Soon we’ll bring your mother back you know she would never had abandoned you and would love you always fate had other plans. Until now-”

“You’re the one that killed her” Shen Qingqiu snapped eyes filled with hatred, and replaced? The hell did he mean?

“Binghe? How can you think I replaced you? The very thought is ridiculous!”

Luo Binghe finally looked at him, black pools swirled with madness, no way- don’t say Xin Mo twisted things or maybe…

Qui Haitang is alive, the two maybe travelled the abyss together she may have fed poison of Shen Qingqiu.

“You had a son, you have Mobei-Jun and this…Xiao Jiu to replace me! You never really loved Binghe it was all an act to get to my father!”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened, what?

How…how could Binghe get this so wrong?

“This one fails to see why it has to be Shen Qingqiu’s body, why couldn’t this one have him instead?” The old Palace Master spoke enraged, 

 Hmm?

“That’s right! You promised to make my brother like himself again but now you’re doing this! My brother shouldn’t be walking around wearing the face of this old geezer!”

The old man nodded furiously.

And Shen Qingqiu realised with dawning horror that Qui Jianlou was in control of the old palace master.

 And now they were going to what…? Put Su Xiyan in his body? 

“Yes you’re brother did good on his word,” Wu Yanzi said, as he began to prepare for some sort of satan ritual.

 “For many years being my sponsor,”

Wait-

“For manipulating events to make Shen Qingqiu the bride of Tianglang-Jun…” 

Wait-!

“And for even helping dear Binghe find the truth, now Qui Jianlou can step down and be free with his sister, and the new emperor can continue assisting me in your place.”

 They brainwashed Binghe!

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and the Palace Master was never here! It was all Qui Jianlou and Qui Haitang both were squatting like toads at Huan Hua while helping the demonic cultivator.

 Maybe promised them revenge for his wayward bastard son.

Shen Qingqiu gritted his teeth, Wu Yanzi…really was a scumbag.

And yet, after all the things Shen Qingqiu put in place to protect Binghe, Mobei-Jun and in turn Shen Jiu- were told to always carry weapons on their person.

 If anything Shen Qingqiu was thankful that the knife he had was still on him and that his hands were tired behind his back.

With all eyes on Wu Yanzi they didn’t notice him hack at the immortal binding cables.

“Keep still, son. This won’t hurt much.”

 Shit- Shen Qingqiu screamed as Wu Yanzi touched his forehead, and Luo Binghe startled eyes wide, looking clear until Qui Haitang grabbed his arm.

 “Shh, it’ll be over soon, Binghe…”

How dare she act so overly formal!

His body burned and Wu Yanzi was speaking gibberish and Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt full, flashes and memories of things that weren’t his-

 The knife slashed through the rope, and Wu Yanzi fell over on his ass when Shen Qingqiu lunged forward.

 The old man was holding Xiu Ya.

His arms free his body moved on its own free will.

Cucumber-Bro, Shen Yuan and now holding the title Shen Qingqiu was just floating in his own state distanced from everything.

 The old man had his throat slit, dropping Xiu Ya, Qui Haitang cried out in horror, after grabbing Luo Binghe on the sword and flew down the corridors, Wu Yanzi struggled up, scowling but was grabbed by Qui Haitang.

“Save him- save my brother!”

Shen Qingqiu’s body kept running digging their nails into Luo Binghe’s arm.

 “Impertinent brat. Where are they holding your father?”

They finally made it outside, but the body of Shen Qingqiu flew shoving Luo Binghe forward on the side. It wasn’t exactly tugging him on his ear like a misbehaving boy but it was close enough.

 “You know where the locked him down. Or he would be here to save u-me.” 

Luo Binghe was lost, “Shizun?”

“Shizun? Is that what you call him? Ungrateful. And it’s that attitude that killed him.”

“What?”

Luo Binghe’s voice sounded weak and it broke Shen Qingqiu’s heart.

 The one riding the sword sneered. “Shen Qingqiu is dead, his soul ejected from this body. And now you are in the company of your darling mother.” The word carried derision.

 And Luo Binghe began to cry,

“I- I didn’t mean for this-”

“Speak clearly, boy. And intent matters. What were you expecting to happen? A happily ever after with you’re shizun oh wait. He’s dead.”

 But he wasn’t the hell-

Shut up. The brat needs some humility for the damage he almost caused and for locking our husband up. You coddled him too much, that explains the tantrum.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t believe it- Su Xiyan was co-habiting this body? But why couldn’t he move?

It won’t last, temporary possession, but let’s make him sweat a little…

“Shizun…he’s really-”

“Yes, now…where is your father.”

“...Buried under a mountain? Overkill much?” 

“Husband…?”

He cracked. Shen Qingqiu seriously couldn’t take it, seeing Tianglang-jun trapped under the mountain, face bloody and looking like every bit the fallen hero. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t take it, wanting to rip the tailsmans of the wall and even kill the people invovled.

 “Husband!” 

Su Xiyan was promptly pushed to the back, surprised while Shen Qingqiu leapt forward grabbing Tianglang-Jun close and burying his face into his husbands neck.

 “I thought you were dead,” tianlang-jun spoke, voice watery and Shen Qingqiu was hiding his face clinging him close.

 “You can thank Wu Yanzi for that, he brought me back.”

Luo Binghe stood away, guilty look on his face. 

“Binghe?” Tianglang-jun finally looked up, tensing.

“Shh, its alright, now.” 

Shen Qingqiu stiffened as Su Xiyan took back control.

“Thank god this is temporary.” She took a step back biting her thumb and marked the tailsmans relishing in how satisfying it was to see them all snap.

She caught him and placed one arm around her shoulder to support him.

“Now where is that nephew of yours, usually joined to the hip or a second growth.”

“Husband?”

“Wife.” Shen Qingqiu smirked, glancing at her husband then sighed. As Luo Binghe gave a soft sob.

 “You! Stop crying and help me! It’s all your fault anyhow!”

“What- what happened?” Tianglang-Jun asked, as the three of them began to leave the mountain.

 “Luo Binghe this Master weeps that you only got your brains from your father- use your sword!” Luo Binghe snapped to attention and drew Xin Mo to make a portal.

 “Shen Qingqiu cuddled you too much.” She sneered and Luo Binghe eyes narrowed, “Don’t disrespect Shizun with his face!”

 Tianglang-Jun now blinked eyes wide, “Su Xiyan.”

She sighed, “Idiots, the both of you.” She then kicked them through the portal and entered their pavilion.

Miss Su?

 Su Xiyans eyes pricked with tears as she spoke softly “The Sun pavilion.” 

Tianglang-Juns face crumpled with guilt, “Xiyan-”

“No.” She took a step back, shaking it off. “This possession is only temporary and came from demonic cultivation.” She used Shen Qingqiu’s fan to place against Tianglang-Juns chest holding him back.

 “My time here is temporary. So don’t embarrass us both by doing something you’ll regret.”

Shen Qingqiu was confused, regret? Regret what?

Hey- it’s fine you can use my body, I mean it was my bastard father who-

“Hush up,” Su Xiyan spoke looking upwards, “Stop talking nonsense, and that man is not your father.”

“Shen Qingqiu? What did he say?”

“Nothing of importance.” 

At least be kinder to Binghe!

“That brat? He’s the reason we’re in this mess. You coddle him too much and you!” She yelled at Binghe who was still fuming then flinched at the duress.

 “You wanted a little brother! It was always Shizun I want a sibling, oh Shizun I want a baby brother- Mobei-Jun doesn’t count he has his own empire and won’t play with me!”

Luo Binghe’s eyes widened, “And He did! He kept telling everyone you were coming back because he believed you weren’t dead and this is how you repay him! Unfilial!”

“Xiyan! There’s no need-”

“And where were you in all this? Mobei-Jun was kidnapped and you did nothing, Shen Qingqiu always has to clean up your messes. If this Xiyan was still alive this one would divorce you!”

“Xiyan!”

Tianglang-Jun only laughed, that women always so cold! And telling them like it is!

Although, Luo Binghe fell to his knees slamming his head against the floor, Shen Qingqiu’s spirit responded making the body flinch at the action.

“This Binghe has been unfilial! This one truly thought Shizun had abandoned him,” He hit his head again, and Su Xiyan wanted to stand there still and aloof meanwhile Shen Qingqiu wanted to pick him up.

 “This one came back and saw- saw Shizun with-”

“Binghe?”

The three stiffened to see Shen Jiu, staring at the man on the floor crying his heart out. Shen Jiu scoffed.

 “It’s about time you got home!”

Luo Binghe blinked, Shen Jiu looked older, almost fifteen of course, spiritually made children aged faster and since Shen Jiu was mentally an adult man he was perfectly fine with that. 

 “Now Mama won’t be gloomy anymore!” Shen Jiu approached then proceed to kick Luo Binghe while he was down.

 “Ack-”

It barely hurt him, although maybe Shen Jiu was using Qi in his kicks.

“You made him cry! Apologise!”

Luo Binghe gaped “What?”

“Apologise!”

He kicked him again- “O-okay Xiao Jiu thats enough. Luo Binghe is sorry,” 

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t take it anymore, he crouched down picking Binghe up and tugging him close.

 “I wanted to do that as soon as I saw you.”

Luo Binghe stared ahead eyes wide his hands coming up to clutch his robes.

“Shizun,”

“You’re too big for tears, ah there there.”

“Sh-shizun won’t leave me?”

“Never.”

Where did this abandonment issue come from? 

“Qui Haitang…she kept saving me in the abyss, she…told me about you that it was all lies and- when I saw I believed-”

“It’s okay…”

Tianglang-Jun took Shen Jiu’s arm and made them all sit together, Luo Binghe flinched as he felt two more presence press against his back, then exhaled.

 “Okay- now thats enough.” Su Xiyan spoke, “We don’t know what Wu Yanzi is planning,”

“-Wu Yanzi!?”

Su Xiyan looked at Shen Jiu in surprise “Oh, you would know more about him wouldn’t you.”

Shen Jiu scowled, while Tianglang-jun and Luo Binghe looked confused.

 “Explain we don’t have much time.”

Su Xiyan stared then the lips of Shen Qingqiu pulled into a smirk “I like this boy,”

You would.

Tianglang-Jun hummed “Both cold, and brutal. You would’ve gotten along like a house on fire.”

“Yes, Shen Qingqiu would’ve made a fine first husband if this one had become empress…both of them.”

Now Tianglang-Jun’s eyes narrowed, and She smirked more before walking passed to get their palace ready.

 All wifes from Huan Hua were rejected for conspiracy, they were already divorced in name only stayed since they had no where else to go.

 Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan maintained the perimeter, Cang Qiong and the other sects had given aid and other cultivators to assist.

 Shen Jiu stared at the man who he once called father, Wu Yanzi sneered “You look just like him, the bastard who came back on his hands and knees begging to be taken into my loving arms hah!” 

 Shen Jiu sword didn’t waver, staring straight at the threat.

He knew how Wu Yanzi operated, knew how he would access the palace.

 “So, you wanted to put Binghe on the throne a puppet to have direct power over the demon and human realm. But that plans fallen through, Luo Binghe and Tianglang-jun will never agree to your terms.”

“What If I made you my hostage? Hmm? That would be easy-”

Wu yanzi struck and Shen Jiu dodged, sending out a demonic qi blast to disrupt the talisman Wu Yanzi’s eyes widened.

 “As a body created from both Human and Demonic qi, this one has the gift to manipulate both. And with your teachings this one has an advanced handle on them.”

“My teachings…you…” Wu Yanzi’s eyes widened-

“You’re-”

The walls crashed around them, Shen Jiu covering his head while Wu Yanzi evaded until he was slammed against the wall by Xiu Ya,

“Shen Jiu!”

Wu Yanzi hesitated, “Shen Jiu?”

Shen Jiu gaped- he didn’t expect Tianglang-Jun and the others to come-

 Su Xiyan was gone. Her soul moving onto reincarnation, Shen Qingqiu stood in front of Shen Jiu raising his hands to hold the sword in place.

 “Its over Wu Yanzi.”

  The man laughed, pinned to the wall “Seems like it is-”

He raised his hand and screamed when a sword glare struck, slicing it clean off.

 “I know all your tricks, Wu Yanzi…”

The man laughed, falling back against the wall, “This Master…supposes you do.”

Shen Jiu hesitated, the warm fond look on the mans face was strange, it only made his parents more wary and Luo Binghe raise Zheng Lang, and Tianglang-Jun raised XIn Mo.

 “Not bad, not bad. The son has far surpassed the master.” Wu Yanzi raised his arms to clap then realised he didn’t have one.

 “Ah never mind.”

“Stop talking, Shen Jiu ignore him.”

 “Why should he? The brat wants to know doesn’t he. Why? Why would your old man do this, why would he sell you to the highest bidder again, and again and again.” 

Shen Jiu hands narrowed, shaking.

“Don’t listen to him-”

“Ah, a stranger shouldn’t involve himself in such matters! This is between me and my boy, isn’t that right Shen Jiu? You did the same thing I did, swapping souls? Beautifully done being the whore of the emperor was beneath you, but his son? Couldn’t have done it better myself!” he laughed loud.

 “What is he talking about?”

“It’s true isn’t it, that Qingqiu isn’t the bastard I spawned, he’s nothing like himself. You on the other hand- you’re mine aren’t you.”

Both the shens gaze narrowed as Shen Jiu raised his sword, “This one is not your anything, you made that quite clear when I returned after you abandoned me.”

 Wu Yanzi's smile was so annoyingly consistent, and Shen Qingqiu pushed Xiu Ya deeper into his arm the man grunted in pain.

 “And that Qui abomination of a family…they were made to train you…you didn’t kill Qui Jianlou, I did. My own bastard son…a prodigy, better than my own son. The bullshit that is society saying you weren’t my true heir out of wedlock. And now, the slate is wiped clean.”

Wu Yanzi smile widened and Shen Jiu face fell in horror “Don’t-”

 “This Father…wishes he could do better, but as a crooked man of demonic cultivation everything I gave you would’ve been poisoned. A Demon emperor was fitting for your station. Do with this gift as you will.”

Shen Jiu almost lunged forward, “No!” Shen Qingqiu held him back not knowing what the man was planning-

 Until he self destructed, warm smile still on his face.

 Tears streaked from Shen Jiu’s eyes as he fell to his knees.

 Shen Qingqiu fell with him, holding him close. He didn’t understand-

“W-why would he do that?”

“Maybe he felt cornered.” Luo Binghe spoke, “Or maybe a spare body to hop into-”

“Binghe, enough.”

 Shen Jiu sobbed into his arms, “Why would he do that?” 

 Shen Qingqiu looked at the body of Wu Yanzi.

…Was he instead an a morally grey character? Who had done everything for his son? Who knew his reputation and the eyes of society would hold Shen Qingqiu back?

 Shen Yuans eyes widened.

He must have observed how he was treated on Cang Qiong, knowing no matter what a honourable cultivator may well as still be a dirty slave to those above.

 So he manipulated and pulled strings to make him the beloved husband of Tianglang-Jun knowing no one would cross him or harm his reputation with a renowned demon lord such as that-

The only thing Wu Yanzi didn’t factor in, was that Tianglang-jun wasn’t demonic enough to protext Shen Jiu’s reputation especially with the loss of his wife and that Shen Jiu’s own self hatred would doom himself not seeing it for the gift it was.

 Protection, and stability. Knowing no one was good enough for Shen Jiu so he created this marriage for him.

 Shen Jiu wailed, beating his arms against Shen Qingqiu’s body.

Wu Yanzi was a demonic cultivator, a cruel and cold father…but his actions said otherwise.

“Let’s go home.”

Tianglang-Jun and Luo Binghe were useless as always. Shen Qingqiu picked his son up holding him close as they stepped away and back towards their home.

 “Husband,” Tianglang-juns eyes were burning with curiosity “Explain.”

With no system in this transmigration, Shen Yuan had to break under pressure and explain.

Tianglang-Jun nodded, the thought of two souls inhabiting a body his husband and wife, this wasn’t that far fetched.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Hmm, you should tell Shang Qinghua, this sounds like an amazing story.”

[heyimdove]

Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:

1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot

2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.

3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”

4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).

5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.

6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”

7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.

8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.

9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!

10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).

11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.

12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.

13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.

14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.

15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”

16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”

17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.

18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.

19. “Tumblr is its own madness”

20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”

21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.

22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.

23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.

It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!

[wroteclassicaly]

All these people in the gator and fargo tag complaining of people thirsting over gator, calling him a nazi and how dare people find the humanity in him but praising joe for his great job like he didnt find the humanity in this character and played him to be someone you feel for. 🤡

Then being pro munch like he doesnt have problematic traditional values either

Honestly so tired of these people virtue signaling and having no nuance or media literacy for the sake of internet points, its exhausting and they just look annoying and stupid

Okay, so I wasn’t sure if I was going to answer this, because I’m trying to stay out of things. But I’ve gotten several messages like this, and I’m writing for Gator, so I feel like I owe my take on him, which had a major influence on my choice to continue.

TW below the cut, discussing Gator and his issues:

I live in a Midwestern, republican town. Everyone here owns flags like Gator’s, has blue lives matter flags, etc. If you’re raised into that life and it’s all your family knows/the people around you know - you will likely adapt to that way of thinking as well. I was fortunate enough to be able to break away from how the people around me thought and felt, forming my own opinions and expressing my disgust for the blue lives matter crap and the flag, etc. My parents are heavily republican (carry all that side’s beliefs) and so is my brother.

It’s an incredibly suffocating and confusing environment to grow up in, especially if you have no way to safely think and form your own opinions. Again, I’m grateful I could break away and think for myself!!!!

Now, discussing Gator. I just want to say that it never said he was a Nazi! Roy was. Gator was misogynistic and racist.

I’m going to compare Gator to a character called Mickey Milkovich (now this will probably upset people, due to Mickey’s character being a gay man), but I’m mostly comparing fathers/environments. Mickey and Gator were raised by two dangerous and horrific men, who beat and brain washed their sons into one way of thinking - theirs. Products of their environment, (Mickey used slurs, had flags like Gator, weapons, drugs, and even had nazi items on his wall) and what is called ‘learned racism’. They have no safe way to think for themselves, no other people around to show them love or kindness, help lead them towards a different way. Mickey found that with Ian and was able to develop and fully nurture the kindness/goodness that was in him, and he had over ten seasons to grow!

Gator only had Nadine and 10 episodes. When she left he began to let his warped devotion to the only person he had a blood connection with - flood him, outweigh his own personal goodness. Dot said it herself when she said his need to be like Roy outweighed the goodness inside. He was a product of the father and the environment. He didn’t have his own way of thinking, not really, he clung to what was beat and brainwashed into him, trying to find love and approval from his abuser/only blood relative/only person he was around (very common).

Am I excusing that? Absolutely not! Gator was not entirely a good person, and he knew that as well! He made choices he knew were wrong, to impress and gain affection from a sociopathic, demonic man. Gator was responsible for what he did, so this is not me trying to excuse or argue that!!

The only way for him to become free of who he was molded to be (he has no clue who he is, just a weak prototype of what he tried to be, hardly anything that is his own), was for him to become blind in order to see, and start serving his time. They left his ending open, which is a great way for those of us who choose to write for him - to explore his mental freedom and further nurture the soft/good side of him!

We don’t know how Gator would act or think (he was immediately apologetic to Dot and didn’t hesitate to give Roy up when he saw he wasn’t loved or cared for, so he didn’t need to protect his father), now that he is away from the environment and the man that molded him into the character he was on the show.

Gator was still a child trapped in a man’s body in some aspects; his temper tantrums, his knee jerk reactions, his hot headed plans without thought, his bedroom items (the toy cars, the sneakers, etc), his blinding anger towards Dot for leaving him behind (not even faulting her, because baby girl needed to get out and I’m glad she did). The show also alluded to the fact that he might have been addicted to some kind of substance he was stealing, as well.

Feelings on Munch are that he’s got just as much issues, lol. And we hardly knew much on him, tbh? What he did in the past, other than what he said.

Anyways, that’s my take on Gator.

We all have the right to feel how we feel!! Hate or love Gator, see his humanity or not. Some of the things his character represented effect a whole lot of people, so they have a right to be upset! There’s a lot of different factors and feelings involved!! I only look sideways at you if you thought his torture and eyes getting burnt/cut was what he deserved, because that’s just gross!

But at the end of the day, none of us who do love Gator/write for him — condone Gator’s actions! Seeing the layers and humanity in a character Joe put his all into, is perfectly normal/okay!

Sometimes there’s areas in between, and it’s not just either/or.

But I will say that not everyone who feels this way is just doing it for internet points! A lot of people have valid points/feelings about the dislike of Gator, to which I will not/have no business arguing, you know? There’s also other people that make callout posts for clout and false superiority, without even recognizing what Gator actually did and they just pull stuff outta their ass, lol.

If you don’t like Gator fans or writers, then just scroll!! It’s easy, I promise! No one is hurting anyone or being malicious!! ❤️

[dantent]

𝑴𝒆𝒐𝒘𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 [𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕] 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

A/N: Alright since you guys like the first part so much here's a part 2 but this is fr the last one 😭

Part 1

Raphael was clean but at what cost. His darling fur was drenched in water, all because of Tav. Speaking of which, they were currently lying on a bed furthest away from Raphael. The hero had to patch themselves up from all the scratches he had given them. Well deserved. If they had listened to him, it wouldn’t have come to this. The only downside was that Tav didn’t pay attention to him, as a punishment. Raphael wanted to laugh at the idea that his little mouse wanted to punish him for rightfully defending himself. Were they turned into a cat as well, they would understand his situation. 

He jumped off the bed he found most comfortable, coincidentally just the bed Tav had used before. With his silent little paws, he hurried to the only table in the room. On the desk he saw a lone potion standing just at the edge. Raphael looked over at Tav, a plan forming in his head. If Tav was unwilling to pay attention to him because “he was a rude cat”, then he had no other choice than to make them pay attention. The Devil lazily jumped on the table, walking to the edge. Apparently his maneuver made enough noise to wake Tav up. They slowly raised their head in his direction.

“Meowphael, no!” Tav jumped out of the bed. When they came closer, Raphael raised a paw and placed it just behind the potion, making continuous eye contact with the hero. Tav stopped in their track, slowly raising their hand. “No! No, bad Meowphael!” 

Raphael tilted his head to the right, giving them an innocent look. Tav took it as a sign to step closer. He didn’t do anything, not yet at least. They released a breath before taking another step. Raphael hissed at them, making Tav stop once more. In a desperate attempt, they shook their head, urging him not to do it. Oh how he laughed at them. Such an easy way to get his little mouse’s attention. But why would he stop there? He slowly pushed the bottle closer to its demise. Tav didn’t think twice and lunged at him, but it was too late as he already shoved it off.

“No!'' They jumped to the floor to catch it but it shattered on the ground. Raphael meowed before jumping off and joining them on the floor. He found this situation hilarious, especially as Tav’s unamused face stared at him. “At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if you were actually Raphael in disguise…”

What a wonderful thought. If only they weren’t an absolute idiot. A hiss came from Raphael before he strolled over to their backpack. He occasionally looked back waiting for the hero to follow him. They were so close to the truth if only they finally used their brain instead of keeping it as a giant abyss. Raphael waited, he even sat on the floor, as much as he absolutely despised doing so. Yet the hero just lied there, staring back at him. Raphael would’ve rolled his eyes if he could.

“What?” Tav asked, clearly not amused by his previous stunt. Raphael meowed and stood up, continuing his way to the bag. Once he got to it, he looked back at his little mouse. In his mind, Raphael tried to urge them forward. Now he wished he didn’t bet his entire future on an utter fool. “No, I won’t give you any more potions! Get away from my bag!” 

Raphael growled before attacking the backpack. He could hear Tav’s hurried steps but he didn’t care. As much as he hated to admit it, Raphael genuinely missed being able to talk to someone. In his House of Hope, people were obliged to listen to his ramblings but now he couldn’t even make the hero of Baldur’s Gate understand him. He grew more frustrated by the minutes, wishing to strip himself from this curse. Raphael turned to them expectedly. They finally arrived, crossing their arms before glancing at the bag.

“Stop destroying my bag!” they scolded him. Did he have to do everything himself? Raphael meowed and slowly turned to the bag. “You want food? A potion? What?” 

He hissed in anger before burying himself in the new opening he had made with his claws. The Devil grabbed the potion of animal speaking again and tried pulling it out. Before he could fully get it out of the bag however, Tav grabbed it from him to inspect the bottle. Raphael growled in return, raging at how he was treated. 

“Potion of animal speaking?” they gasped. “You wanted to talk to me this whole time?” 

Finally, he thought. At least his little mouse understood him in the end. If they helped him out, maybe he was willing to forget what he had gone through to get the result he wanted. Maybe. But more likely than not, Tav was going to face the consequences of making fun of him – Raphael. As he thought about the various ways Tav would pay for this mockery, they drank the potion. 

“Took you long enough.” Raphael meowed. Tav’s eyes widening was a clear indication that they finally heard what he had to say. “Were you going to wait a moment longer I-”

He was interrupted by laughter. The hero laughed at him. Raphael growled ever so angrily, his animalistic instincts taking over, thus attacking Tav’s leg. But his little mouse had learned from their previous mistake and grabbed him before he could do any significant damage. They raised him in the air, smiling at him. 

“I’m sorry I just…” Tav couldn’t finish their sentence because they were wheezing, straight into his face. He tried scratching them, but they made sure to keep him far away. “You’re a cat!” 

“Astonishing observation.” he growled. “Now put me down or else!” 

“Or else?” they could barely breathe by now. “What are you going to do? Meow my ear off?” 

Raphael screamed at them in anger. How dare they. He was Raphael! This temporary setback was a pain in his ass, sure, but this travesty would be taken no more! He tried with all his might to at least scratch their skin, but their hands kept him firmly in the air. 

“Gods, stop it!” they yelled at him in between a few laughs. “Seriously, this won’t help you…”

“Let me go this instant you impudent moron!” he tried kicking them with his legs. 

Tav chuckled at the attempt. “First, you have to promise me not to destroy anything else. Bad kitties don’t get to enjoy their freedom.”

“Call me that again, worm and I’ll show you just how hot the flames of Avernus can burn!” He was furious at this point. Never had he been ridiculed to this extent in his life. Tav was going to face serious punishment once he transformed back. Raphael imagined how he would-

“Alright, alright, no need to get angry.” they sighed. “But, if you want my help, we have to come to an agreement…”

“The agreement will be that you get to keep your sorry little life as long as I am in this cursed form. But believe me, pet, your insults are going to have dire consequences.” Raphael grumbled. 

“Promise me that you won't destroy my things.” Tav shook their head, clearly not taking his warnings seriously. Utter fool. 

“You think you’re in any place to-”

“Who is held up in the air right now?” they raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine. Laugh while you can little mouse, the cat’s claws are soon closing in around you.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Tav placed him down and he stretched his aching limbs. Once he felt comfortable, he hissed at the hero. “Unbelievable. Will you at least tell me what happened to you?”

Raphael tilted his head for a moment, considering their request. “No.”

[whetstonefires]

The thing about the Shazam! (Captain Marvel but they don't have the rights to call him that) movie is that overall it's pretty good? Even if I question the pacing choices made in terms of screentime breakdown for '14yo boys making mortifying life choices and humorously failing judgment calls' vs. 'character development wrt to literally anything else about this fairly large cast.'

It's hokey; it should be. It's got some decent themes and fun character bits and set up good solid hero/villain parallels to subvert.

But.

But it massively clotheslined itself with a major storytelling fuckup connected to the opening hook mystery, whose resolution is meant to be the emotional inflection point of the whole film.

Because the thing is, this movie chose to be slightly interesting in how it approached its 'family' themes. In a variation on 'family of choice' (since your foster family are in fact assigned by the government and Billy not having a choice about living with them only about trusting them is a major story element) it went for the more nuanced and kind of interestingly grimy take that the people who are actually in your life giving a shit about you matter, if you let them, and that you need to stop giving the people who failed to love you power over your happiness.

Which is not a bad premise at all! As messages for a movie about a kid being sent to a group home go, that's the most upbeat you could possibly get and still be tied to reality.

The Vasquez couple are written and played well in these terms too because they really, genuinely care, and are making so much effort, but as system graduates themselves they never had competent parenting modeled for them and god does it show.

And the mental health problems of the kids who got enough characterization to have them were similarly...realistic in a best-case-scenario sort of way.

But! Still with the but! Even though they pulled off a lot of this fairly touchy premise rather well, there's a crack in the foundation that makes the whole movie kind of collapse on a thematic level.

Because the movie (following the prologue introducing the villain's backstory) opens with a juicy emotional hook where small Billy is separated from his mother at a Christmas fair and never sees her again.

Cut to some years later, establishing status quo scene, he's a Troubled Youth rebelling against the system in an endless quest to find his mother and go home. He is committing minor felonies to get access to police information about women surnamed Batson so he can go to their houses because eventually one of them has to be his mom.

His case worker after he's picked up again refers to his mother as 'someone who clearly didn't want you,' which Billy rejects as bullshit, and he's valid! Because that is not what you say when you have actual information. That's a surmise. That's a sentence that says Child Protective Services and the police couldn't find her either.

Especially because you don't immediately chuck a kid into foster care because he's found unattended. Maybe you do that later, after a lengthy period of oversight, depending on his mom's reaction to having him returned and her race and socioeconomic status and apparent mental health and so forth. But you don't just not contact her, and you definitely don't refuse to tell the kid about the result once you have.

The only normal situation where an accessible record exists of a kid's original parentage but it's denied to the kid is in sealed adoptions, which are a formal procedure that clearly didn't happen here. There is every indication in this opening sequence that his mom was never found.

Which means she's a missing person. Either because they located the correct Billy Batson and his adult never came back to their house (which would suggest foul play or some other drama) or because despite being old enough to be in school and knowing his own name, no one could find evidence that Billy existed prior to turning up at that street carnival.

Which would constitute a very mysterious situation! What is he, from a cult? Another dimension? Did someone (in the social worker's proposed scenario, Billy's mom) erase all record of her kid somehow? Was magic involved?

So: the way we're introduced to this scenario, there's a legitimate weird mystery here that none of the adults in Billy's life care enough about to do anything but tell him to write it off, the way they have. That his missing person clearly did it on purpose.

Billy's being ridiculous because if what he's trying would work then he wouldn't need to do it; his social worker could have arranged a meeting years ago. So it's a useless self-destructive behavior he needs to let go. But he's valid, in that he's being very obviously failed by the system and is doing the only thing he can think of to try to address his situation for himself.

And then! The Big Reveal is that his mom has been living under her maiden name in the same city as him this whole time.

Which the Gamer Kid Who Turns Out In This Scene To Be A Hacker (he's about 10) learned by. Breaking into a federal database.

So he goes to her house and it turns out. She'd been a teen mother and her babydaddy walked out after marrying her, and her parents cut her off, and she was depressed and felt like a bad mother so. When she saw the cops had her kid, she just walked away. And she wants to believe he's been happy and better off without her.

And the emotional arc of the film rests on how Billy comes to terms with this. With the fact that his past will never take him back and he has to learn to find joy in himself and his present situation and his future.

Having let go of that idea, he's able to emotionally commit to his gaggle of foster siblings and realize that unlike the villain, who was obsessed with punishing the people who never loved or accepted him, or the wizard who was focused on finding The Perfectly Worthy Champion, what you needed to be good and not lost was to be part of a mutually supportive group, like the wizard Shazam was before he and his siblings were betrayed. And then they can be a superhero team, woo!

And that part is actually depicted fairly well, all things considered!

But the problem is that the audience, to vibe with this properly, has to roll with the revelation that Billy was wrong to cling to the mystery of his vanished, beloved mother and the fantasy of going home again.

We have to be willing to participate in the idea that the Resistant Child Subjected To Foster Care was in the wrong.

And he wasn't! He wasn't wrong! His understanding of the situation was flawed but it should not have been flawed in this manner.

Because this scenario as it's depicted doesn't make any sense. The cops do not just keep your kid without following up if you fail to collect him from the baggage claim. CPS does not fail to provide a kid with the readily available evidence that he's been voluntarily surrendered to them, when he keeps running off trying to go home.

Why would they do that, after all? Billy's misbehavior was a huge hassle for them. They gained nothing by denying him access to his mother and the information about her that was, you recall, sitting totally available in a government database that could be hacked by a random 10 year old asian-american orphan. They just...made their own lives harder for no reason, while extending the suffering of a child in their care.

If the cops tried to return him back when and she said 'no i left him with you on purpose please keep him' maybe she gets prosecuted for child abandonment and maybe not, but either way, billy would know about it.

But if the screenwriters had made it clear early on that this information had been offered to him and he'd chosen not to believe it, they couldn't get a proper Reveal at the end because it would just be Billy being unable to continue pretending something the audience had known not to believe all along.

And they couldn't cram a good reason for the scenario they'd set up into the space they'd accorded it.

So they were just like, it's fine, if we cram enough cliches into this space people will react to the familiarity and go 'ah yes i know this one' and go along with it, and not notice that this isn't an actual coherent reply to the question that was set up an hour ago and therefore is emotionally unsatisfying somehow.

Anyway this is an important storytelling guideline: if you put in a mystery to control either the actual plot or, even worse, the emotional storyline, that mystery and its resolution have to make internal sense.

If you pull the Real Situation out of your ass, and it's not a matter of red herrings or That One Fact you didn't have that makes all the rest fit together differently, but in fact no one involved could have figured this out and especially if the people who did say this in the first place had no good basis for it, but still get narratively awarded the Correct trophy in a way that contributes to the thematic climax so the audience has to care. Then that will not get good results. It will make it hard to deliver on your intended themes.

Some people will not notice or care! This is true! But a lot of people will, and you'll get enough of a better punch even with the other folks, if the setup and denouement fit together properly and don't require reaching, to matter.

And when people do notice at all, rather than their naturally flowing along with the climax you're steering toward and experiencing A Story, there will be a tendency to notice you standing there placing roadsigns toward the Intended Emotional Response, and call you a hack.

People call out plotholes way too vigorously sometimes, so I want to be clear: it's not the lack of supporting logic I mind. It's that the active presence of illogic, of what's presented as a chain but is broken along its length, means the central character arc intersects with the core theme in a noticeably forced way. Which is bad craftsmanship on a meaningful level.

There is a loss of cohesion where you cannot satisfactorily resolve how the scenario we were initially shown came to be superimposed over the revealed truth, because that relationship between elements is very important to making a 'revelation' storyline land, you know?

In this case it's particularly vexing to me because the last-minute asspull and its thematic weight reaches back around and at the last minute moves the whole movie thematically to the other side of the line wrt whether it's approaching Billy, our protagonist, as a subject with whom we're supposed to identify or an object whom we're supposed to observe.

It makes all the high-school-freshman-posing-as-adult gags retroactively less funny because we were now more explicitly laughing at him, and takes a lot of the depth out of the emotionally sincere moments.

Up to that point I had really appreciated how, despite wavering that way, Shazam! hadn't actually fallen to the MCU Spiderman temptation to dehumanize its protagonist. Which seems to arise out of this weird tendency I've noticed to assume the natural sentiment of adults toward adolescents is bemused contempt, and that therefore if they ask their audience of paying grownups to empathize too closely with a teen hero instead of setting him and his Immaturity up as a clown for our amusement, they'll get themselves banished to the Children's Fiction ghetto.

And, of course, if they'd been fully committed to one side or the other of 'Billy is a protagonist the viewer relates to closely' or 'Billy is a protagonist the viewer relates to distantly,' they wouldn't have gotten snarled up about how much information to hand over when.

Committing to either option (giving us only as much information as Billy had and constructing a story that was solid from a being-Billy angle or giving us more information than Billy and operating confidently in the realm of dramatic irony) could have worked quite well. But because of the mixed signals and unstable narrative distance, they wound up with a distinctly weakened finale.

[starflungwaddledee]

do you have any tips for leaving compliments on other people's art ?? your tags are always so well phrased !

oooo oooooooooooooo uuhhhhhhhh hmmm!

firstly, thank you!! i'm rather glad to hear that! i try quite hard to leave meaningful comments so it's nice when folks notice or appreciate it!

outside of commenting on the work, i first consider the tone of what i'm saying and who i'm saying it to.

i always try to make sure that what i'm saying will be appreciated by the person! that's the point. for the most part i leave comments to bring joy to the op, and thank them for their hard work, for being here and sharing art that made me happy! if i'm speaking to a mutual or friend, there's gonna be inside jokes and probably an amount of casual yelling. possibly even a little friendly roast, if i know them well enough. if i'm speaking with someone i don't know as well i try to keep it a little more professional, but i keep in mind that this is a fandom so an amount of yelling and screaming is expected. i tend to think about what i would like from someone else.

also if i notice that a caption or a blogs about is not in english i double check. if english is not the first language of the artist i make sure to construct tags that are easily translated and i use only and exclusively positive phrases. saying things like "delete this!!!! /pos" or "eating my own hands" can be totally lost in translation. i also keep in mind the age of the OP. don't tag as though you're Looking Disrespectfully at the art of a minor, even if that's your favourite blorbo.

as for how to comment on art or storytelling itself, this is indeed a learned skill, and it can be helped by training your eye to understand different things in artwork. but it's easy to start practicing! this is intuitive to me now, but an easy way to begin is to pick out one or two things that really stand out to you on a piece. (examples could be line quality; is it smooth? neat? textured? full of emotion?, shading: is it crisp? atmospheric? realistically rendered?, or colour choice: is it vibrant? is it moody? is it perfectly on model?) and draw attention to them and how the artist successfully used them to make the piece work.

if the piece includes design-work, pick something of that which you like as well. (clothes, colour choices, abilities, parallels to other characters, totally new or unique concepts that you haven't seen before. if you see your favourite colour combos or notions, let them know, but if it's a stranger remember they made the design for themselves, and you just share (good) tastes!) if you really want to make an artist/designer/storyteller's day, try to find the Little Thing that they've snuck into their art or design that ties into the story or lore that they are telling. even guesses to this end tend to be appreciated!

generally useful things you can also comment on are how well an artist has utilised a medium for its strengths, especially if the medium is a little unusual. if someone @'d me in particular i make sure to acknowledge that too because they probably read me for something and i should acknowledge the effort!

another thing i also always, always encourage, is to try to periodically share and comment on the work of people who are either less experienced or who have less visibility than you. especially if you have more of a platform! if you want to keep your blog clean of too many reblogs for aesthetic or professional reasons you can even go through and remove them later, but sharing the work of smaller accounts- even temporarily- makes such a huge difference! and encouraging + supporting younger or beginner artists is something we should be endeavouring to do as much as possible!

at the end of the day, i always just try to be very earnest in my tags.

there is generally no reason to withhold any praises i can think of, because it's usually nice to have your work perceived and appreciated! i personally loooovvve long rambling tags, screaming tags, stuff like "AAHH NOOOOOOO (THE BLORBO)" and so on. i try to leave the kind of thoughtful comments that i like (and am lucky enough) to receive, and i try to share artwork from a wide variety of people!

[art-blogge]

Sparks and Ashes

Mistakes happened. It was a completely understandable human error. A single bad call earlier today had lead to a domino effect of pain for the team, and now they were reaping the consequences.

Most of those consequences were claw wounds and lightning strikes, with a side of friendly fire. Dante would be feeling all of those later.

They'd grown unfortunately used to catastrophic losses. It happened. They would claim it was their fault, then Outis would argue otherwise, and then someone would end up injured somehow in the ensuing argument. It was almost a guaranteed formula by this point.

What didn't normally happen was the Alleyway Watchdog turning its attention towards Dante.

<"Oh no.">

Even if they blared as loudly as they could for help right this moment, the backline Sinners wouldn't make it over fast enough. Worse, Dante still had no idea how to defend themselves! Faust wouldn't let them learn for whatever reason.

There's several different types of "pain". Mental pain, emotional pain, physical pain, soul pain, and Reviving-The-Sinners pain. Dante admittedly didn't do well with any of them.

The Abnormality kept staring with its three heads. Dante considered making a run for it, but that might just make it chase them. They were not outrunning an electro-powered canine. They certainly couldn't treat it like an actual dog- Don Quixote had already tried that to no success. Outis had also attempted it after berating her… and Dante had to feel the agony of getting fried that day. Dante especially didn't want to be Actually Fried- They weren't even sure if they had a brain or a memory chip. Not that it would matter. Mental damage was mental damage. And then there was the physical side of things, which they didn't even want to consider.

There was no chance Vergilius would come save them. There was only one choice.

They'd have to try and fight.

Dante slowly bent down to pick up Ishmael's shield. They figured they could prrrrobably copy some of Ishmael's bashes. It couldn't be that hard. It was just an arm swing. They'd watched Ishmael fight enough. It wouldn't be enough, but it would be something. As for her EGOs….

The Watchdog, much less thoughtful, chose to lunge while Dante was distracted. Dante barely managed to scramble out of the way in time, letting the canine eat dirt. Ishmael's EGOs were scattered, most rolling far away from Dante. They scooped up the Ardor Ember Star EGO and backed away as the Watchdog prepared to pounce again.

Right. Electricity would always course through the body before it moved. Dante watched and waited for the telltale sparks for what felt like eons… And dove to the side just before electrified claws ripped past them.

Okay, maybe that wasn't efficient when they were the one in combat!!

They barely had time to even think. A set of the Watchdog's jaws snapped frighteningly close to their head and Dante unthinkingly bashed it's nose with Ishmael's shield.

<"Bad dog!"> Dante honked, winding up to smack it again.

Bad idea. Every single available attack the Alleyway Watchdog could make was now trained on Dante.

Could they feasibly clash?

A single glance at their device answered that question. Absolutely Fucking Not. Their own Offense was only 3. They were clashing NOTHING. Their only hope was to use the EGO they'd picked up to clash and hit the Stagger.

Dante hesitated, rolling the EGO around in their hand. The last time they'd used one, it'd made problems for everyone and they'd struggled to turn it off. What if they couldn't turn it off a second time?

They could hear the backline Sinners approaching, but they were still too far away to help effectively. Dante didn't have much of a choice anymore. Fine. This was a battlefield and they needed every boost they could get.

Time seemed to slow as the foreign will of the Ardor Ember Moth washed over Dante, and it immediately became a struggle to keep control.

"Aren't you cold? Join me in my cocoon. We will burn together."

No. No! They couldn't stop the cocoon from closing around them, but Dante decided then and there that they'd succeed.

"Executive Manager!" someone shouted in the background, but Dante and the Ardor Ember Moth both ignored it. Something here needed a warm embrace of fire.

<"Aren't you tired?"> Dante asked the Watchdog as they emerged from the fiery cocoon. They easily fluttered up to the Alleyway Watchdog's faces, unfazed by the resulting growls. Despite this, the Watchdog didn't attack. All three of its heads seemed to be entranced by the embers flying off of Dante's head and wings.

Slowly, Dante wrapped their arms around the Watchdog's middle head. As they gently hugged the Abnormality, they could feel electricity running just under them. Their coat was doing an excellent job keeping it away from them.

<"Settle down. We can't reach the future if we burn out now.">

If Dante was able to look at their device, they'd see the Watchdog's Offense Level drop by three.

Pressure was building up inside of their head, but Dante stayed calm. They would be fine. The future would be bright, and they would be there to see it.

<"Burn bright for the future,"> Dante ticked, pressing their head against the Watchdog.

The pressure exploded inside and outside of them, propelling them away from the Abnormality while it caught fire. Inconveniently, the EGO wore off before they could land, causing them to tumble down helplessly and land on their face.

The backline Sinners finally arrived as Dante shook off the impact. As five of them rushed past to take down the stunned Watchdog, Outis knelt down to speak with her ash-covered Manager.

"Excellent work, Executive Manager, but don't you think that was incredibly dangerous?"

Dante let out a slow whistle as a response. It had been, but they needed a moment to collect themselves before responding. They also took the opportunity to wipe some ash off of their face so they could see better.

<"I'm sorry. It was dangerous but it was a last resort.">

Dante tipped their head to Outis. Outis accepted this and started to walk past them.

<"Wait.">

Outis stopped and looked back at them.

<"I enjoyed doing that. Can you hold onto this EGO until Ishmael's alive?">

"I can't do that. That would be holding two-"

<"Right, sorry. Go on, then. Give it hell.">

Outis rushed into combat to get some hits in before the Watchdog regained it's footing.

Dante didn't bother taking their device back out. Combat was about to end.

Despite the growing dread from needing to revive six Sinners, Dante still felt okay. Their coat was still a bit warm, so they opted to curl up into it, and… Oh. Oh, that felt nice. It was warmer than they thought it was, and it didn't usually feel this soft. The fact they could feel the coat's texture despite their gloves never even registered.

……………..

Oh, right. Work.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock!!!!!!

The pain was more agonizing than they'd expected, and they rolled onto their side in a tightly curled-up ball. In moments though, the pain faded faster than it ever had previously. Was it the warmth? Dante had no idea and didn't care. It was comfy…

"Sanity up by twenty-five points," Faust stated, reminding Dante that they were in-fact STILL working, "And Sloth affinity damage up. The Alleyway Watchdog lost three Offense Levels before taking fifty points of Wrath damage from Ardor Ember Star."

Something was taken out of Dante's pocket, and they irritably glanced up. Ishmael had taken her EGO back while Faust was reading stats off of their ash-covered device. Ah. It must have fallen out of their pocket at some point.

"Huh, weird," came Heathcliff's voice somewhere to the unseen left of Faust, "So that Sloth up is givin' them a real lazy time, is it?"

"That is certainly a way to put it, but yes," Faust confirmed.

<"I'm not being lazy,"> Dante lied, making no effort to move, <"I'll move when I'm ready.">

"Sure, and the Lassie will lift the Frenchman."

Don Quixote was distantly audible and attempting to now do just that. Everyone ignored it.

The side-effects finally wore off, and Dante immediately got back up. That'd been weird. It'd felt nice, but they thought they were in control of it. Guess not.

<"New note. I'm not to use that again. I enjoyed that far too much. Someone teach me to fight so that doesn't happen again.">

"Denied."

Well, they tried.

[call-sign-shark]

Or 3 and 7 with our perfect Cold Iceman… can’t choose Shark 🥹

Why choose when I could add both? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you'll like it my sweet little Fox. 💚

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✨Take My Breath Away✨

Summary: Valentine's prompt Flowers (3) and Dancing (7) -- Iceman x Reader

Words: 1.7k

Tags: pure fluff !! Ice being super awkward with feelings. No proof reading.

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From the beginning of your training as the first female pilot to today, hiding your weakness had become a habit. Feeling sick or tired? You would double your efforts and work even more than on a normal day. Feeling depressed? You would reply to the constant teasing with a sharp and confident smile as if you were ready to eat them alive. Especially Hollywood, who you could not put up with. Even when your period cramps were tearing your uterus and the hormones would rattle your nerves, you kept working hard, your face was always hidden behind a mask of total indifference. Maverick and Goose often joked about your frozen demeanor, comparing you to Iceman when it came to expressing emotions. But contrary to Kazansky, no one had given you the choice. The slightest weakness shown could be used against you by the pack of ferocious and macho pilots, whose only wish was to see you fall.

The black tea you had let cool down on the coffee table had stopped smoking. An unpleasant chill ran down your spine, which made you snuggle a bit more in the heavy and warm blanket you wrapped yourself with when you came back to your bedroom. Your fingers reached for the cup’s handle and brought the tea to your lips. The first sip warmed your whole soul. You felt like you had just swallowed a little fragment of sun, which lit up you from the inside. A sigh of relief escaped from your mouth, soon followed by your eyelids slowly closing. Finally, you thought, you could finally rest and forget about Valentine’s. A hot tea, a blanket, and music coming from your radio were all you needed. The sights of pilots gifting flowers and chocolate to girlfriends almost made you sick. Men… They were all the same. You did not always hate Valentine’s Day though. There was a time you could not wait for your boyfriend to come home with the cliché but oh-so-romantic box of chocolates et flowers. Cheesy, but absolutely heartening. You remembered how your expression would suddenly become cheerful at the sight of the handsome soldier with gifts in his hands, waiting for you in the middle of the door’s frame. There were Valentine’s Days with John and now, those without him. You clenched your jaw at such bittersweet memories: you had loved him so much… Until you found him in bed with another woman.

Another sip of tea, another wave of warmth coating your frozen heart with its delicious aroma. It was not particularly late but you decided to go to sleep, after all, it was not like you had a date or something. You had barely got up from the couch when you heard someone knocking at your door. Your brows furrowed for you were not expecting visits. At first, you hesitated: what If you just didn’t answer? Your social battery was so empty that the last thing you wished for was to hold a conversation. Nevertheless, you still dragged your exhausted body to the door and opened it.

“Listen, I’m fucking tired and—“ You cut mid-sentence.

“And?” A calm and cold voice retorted.

You looked up and your eyes were met with freezing blue irises. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing fiercely at your door, hands crossed behind his back and his whole posture screaming military discipline. You had expected anyone knocking at your door, anyone except Iceman. The corner of his mouth moved in a quick and faint smirk, betraying his emotions: he was amused by how you reacted to his presence. While you could easily make men shit themselves, Kazansky was the only one who would face you at the slightest inconvenience. He was harsh, he was scary, but he also was the only one who never made inappropriate comments about you. He was difficult to prove, consequently you never knew if he liked you or hated you — or if your presence was just insignificant to him. Coming back to your senses, you took a step back and crossed your arms on your chest.

“What do you want, Kazansky” Your tone was suddenly less impetuous now that Ice was towering over you. He remained silent for a little while, his cerulean eyes observing each trait of your face as if the answer to all his worries was hidden somewhere on your skin. He finally blinked, realizing that he was probably staring at you for too long and that it was awkward.

“Take.” Stern tone. No extra words. Ice was the kind of man who liked going straight to the point. Maybe that was why he handed you the charming bouquet of red roses he had hidden behind his back without utterly the slightest explanation. You opened your eyes wide:  he took your breath away as if he had just thrown you a punch right in the guts. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing at your door, roses in his hand and they were for you. Blood rushed to your face.

“Are you gonna take them or not?” The tall blonde pilot said, raising an eyebrow. His jaws were moving for he was chewing gum — he always did since he quit smoking.

“Oh, yes!” You shook your head, his attractive voice snatching you from your thoughts, “Yes!” You repeated before taking the flowers from his hands and burying your nose in their delicate petals to sniff at their pleasant scent. It was the first time Ice saw a genuine smile flattering your juicy lips and, to be true, it made him melt. Even though he did not let it show.

“Thank you Ice, this is very nice.” You said, nose still hidden among the red roses.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, not really sure what to do now. Slider told him to take off his shirt and show his abs, but he was not sure about it. Bradshaw and Mitchell would have sung you a ridiculous love song, but doing so was absolutely out of question. And concerning the florist, she only told him to offer the bouquet and wait for his lover to make the first step — but you were not having any peculiar reaction. What did he do wrong?

“See you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Ice?” Raising your face from the bouquet, you offer him a shy smile with glimmering eyes. Your face was dressed in a look you had never given to a pilot since you broke up with John.

“Yes?”

“Come in.” You winked and let him come into your bedroom. Then, you put the red roses in a little flower pot you had brought from your mom’s house. As you took care of the bouquet, the blonde pilot stopped in the middle of the room and looked all around him. To be honest, He believed that a bedroom could tell a lot about someone. For example, his was neat, clean, and completely impersonal. No family pictures, no letters, no plushies, nothing. Sometimes you wondered if Tom Kazansky could be anything else than Iceman. You could not picture him being a father, nor a son, nor a casual man. He was just… Ice.

Yet, a small grin stretched the corner of his lips. He had just spotted the adorable family picture you had on your nightstand, displaying a little Y/N piggybacked by your father. Behind you was standing an impressive Biplane straight from World War I. He knew you came from a family of pilots, but he did not expect your father to own such an incredible machine.

"You look so happy." Ice stated, his voice softer than usual.

"I was. My dad would often take me with him when he flew the Fokker. I think there are my favorite memories of him. He would tell me that, one day, I'll be ready to fly it by myself." 

When Iceman noticed the tint of melancholy in your voice, he could not help but gently bring his hesitant fingers to one of your shoulders. He, who was always confident, felt like a shy kid. Even though he already had relationships, they were all one night stands. Which did not help him to understand the mysteries behind social interactions.  The unexpected physical contact sent a shiver down your spine -- You never realized how eager you were for him to touch you until today. You both remained silent for a while, Ice gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb as the first notes of Take My Breath Away by Berlin echoed in the room.  The blonde pilot took a deep breath and glanced at you, his frost eyes enjoying the sight of your delightful silhouette. 

"Hey." 

Surprised when he broke the silence, you turned to him with a questioning look on your adorable face. Ice's smile grew bigger, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a surprisingly tender grin.  His blue eyes left yours only to fall on your lips, which immediately made your whole body heat up. Why the hell were you reacting like that? Of course, you had always thought Kazansky was a handsome man but not a handsome potential boyfriend. At least, that was the case until he smiled.

"I really love this song."  He said, always uttering a sufficient amount of words.  Gathering his courage, he wrapped your waist with his strong arms with an indescribable softness. Then, he brought you closer.

"Ice--" You locked yours around his neck, not really knowing what you were doing.

"Shhhh."  The way your expression shift when you were surprised sent a jolt of arousal through his body. He let out a long exhale through his nostrils and, with small and slow steps, he pulled you in a slow dance. Your whole being faltered at his touch as well as at his freezing eyes diving into yours. The first hesitant movements were soon swept away by more confidence.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones Turning and returning to some secret place to hide Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and sayMy love, take my breath away

You closed your eyes, your head now gently resting on his chest while you were still slowly swirling on the song's rhythm. As the soft melody of his beating heart lulled your broken soul, you finally found peace.

There had been Valentine's days with John and those without.  But the more important ones were those you spent with Iceman. Because since winter 86', he would keep bringing you red roses and still make you slow dance with him in the living room each Valentine's Day.

Even after you became Mrs. Y/N Kazansky. 

[nc-vb]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞-𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Vergo, a seasoned actor who has won several awards and is always sought out by companies for their films, and you, an aspiring actor looking to get your name out in the world, meet at a party, and Vergo promises you the spotlight-- riches and fame can be yours... at the price of sex.

notes not back off my hiatus yet!! but this was a piece I wrote for the loverly @uminozerol 🥰 with her blessing, it has made it to the big screen (or, your phone screens, and if you've somehow decided to read ff on your tv screen, that's... a choice).

pairing -> actor!vergo x fem!actor!reader

warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), actor au, pw/p, piv sex "under contract", size difference (bc he's massive), oral sex (f!receiving), finger fucking, creampie; alcohol use (not involved w sexy times)

wc -> 5.6k

Contrary to mass naïve belief, the acting world isn’t all smiles and good times. Showing up to auditions and landing every role is a dreamer’s dream; personal sacrifice comes into play when desperation is present. The unspoken truth, the one hidden behind red painted doors to rooms with checkered floors…

But there’s a dark side to every industry. 

The entertainment world, with its claws dug deep into society, dominates the public’s view of the world; only the most elite truly dictate what appears in the media, and, who. There’s nothing that speaks “power” like money does. A little investment goes a long way, but there are some actors and performers and entertainers who get away without needing that financial backing for their talents, raw and pure and whole; they do well on their own, beloved by the people.

And none of this has ever been a secret. It’s just something not many dare to tread on or over for fear of losing their own place under the LEDs. Fortunately for someone like you, a fresh-faced and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and all-too-eager to have your name known to and adored by the world. To have your skill acknowledged by the masses, to see them enjoy your work and laud about it to those who’ve yet to witness it for themselves-- it’s an honour like no other.

You’ve yet to fall on hard times from a lack of substantial work (small gigs, commercials and commercial voice overs, and a supporting role in a twelve-episode drama that wouldn’t be renewed for a second season in spite of an overwhelming positive response) but the drain on both your savings and your motivations as an aspiring actor had begun to weight heavy on your heart. 

You had the skill set and the experience to be sought after as rookie talent— is there something you’ve been doing wrong? Certainly not even your manager is at fault; you’ve seen first hand just how hard they’ve been searching and fighting on your behalf. 

If you could guess… it’d been your lack of networking. And, a lack of a network. You really were a rookie in that sense. All those roles were eaten up because of connections— entertainment is the industry of nepotism, after all. People who know people are how people get places. 

You… knew this, too. Even in the beginning. It’s why you’re sitting in front of your vanity, face painted and already dressed in your black evening gown, second guessing everything you’d steeled yourself into doing tonight. 

According to your manager, who’d heard through their own contacts, a huge networking event masquerading as a cocktail party was to be happening tonight, and she managed to surprise you with a ticket. A ticket. Which means you’d be going in alone.

The “Don’t Worry, I’ll Be With You In Spirit” line she fed you almost immediately after gushing over the expected attendees put you on edge. Especially considering she’d blurted out the name of your favourite actor: Vergo. 

With a voice like butter and the smoothest acting you’d seen in your lifetime, you’d been instantly enthralled; you can recall how he’d been mostly chosen for darker, noir, thriller type roles because of this. You’d always wanted to see him in a romance film, but casting directors seemed to be heavily monopolizing his most infamous skill set. And, he seemed content in doing them. 

You were about to be in the same room as your idol, your celebrity crush— alone.

Technically.

The drive to the venue is a quiet one. At the expression on your face, your chauffeur, your manager, couldn’t bring herself to comment any further about the situation, even to fill the silence brought about during the evening traffic (though you correctly assumed it hadn’t been for your glare of “retaliation”, but because of the crease lines that would appear along your forehead; something about “ruining your makeup”, she’d mumbled under her breath that made you relent).

She does send you off with a genuine well-wishing of luck, and a reminder to call her whenever you were ready to leave. 

To your surprise, the event is not a private one. Or at least, perhaps it had been, but somehow was leaked to the public. A large security detail outlines the numerous gold and red velvet stanchions, arms spread eagle wide so as to bar the few more wily spectators that pressed forward a little too much toward the doors. 

Maybe it never was a private event. Stanchions? A red carpet? This much security? Either someone had been brilliant enough to think ahead for a just-in-case scenario quite like this one, or it’d been a publicity stunt of some design. 

Adjusting the chain of the clutch hanging off of your shoulder, you swing it forward to dig out your invitation, and present it to the host at the door. A nod, a brief welcome, you finally enter the building, greeted by a gentle breeze and gold adornments and bold crown mouldings-- from top to bottom, the chosen venue was a good choice. You only wish your heels wouldn’t click so loudly across the checkered floor; you get the point is to be noticed, in a sense, but having this many pairs of eyes on you as you drift further inside only rattles your nerves. 

Being that it’s a cocktail event, there is no assigned table seating. Wouldn’t be much of a networking event if you were stuck at one table all night, you reason with yourself. 

By suggestion of one of the staff, you check your shawl in. You’d expected the room to be much cooler and brought it just in case, but the sheer number of celebrities, interviewers, and recruiters already in the room brought the temperature to a comfortable enough level. You hold onto your purse, finding it not nearly enough of a nuisance to be rid of it. 

Moving aside, you take in your surroundings, properly, no longer overwhelmed and overloaded by them as you’d been on entry. There are a lot of guests. In such a large foyer, you suspect well over one hundred to be in attendance. Your heart swells, recalling your manager’s words from earlier-- yes, the event is invitation only, but you could still apply to receive one, and if the hosts deemed you a fit enough guest, you may attend, yourself. For fresh blood like yourself, this meant everything. The chance to interact, the chance to create a connection, to establish that network; you didn’t have all those fancy business cards made up for them to be used as a paperweight, after all. 

You’re able to hand out quite a few of them before you find your battery drained, casting directors and curious producers alike finding you an interesting conversation piece after you tell them the series you’d co-starred in. Some of them even recall your role played and your acting, a very small “some”; you’d appreciated their kind words. But it’d been a long two hours of non-stop chatting and casual drinking. As fancy as the event was, wearing three inch heels (or heels of any height, really) hadn’t been an ideal dress code requirement, and you were beyond parched. 

Trying not to sigh too loudly, you let yourself collapse into a plush barstool, immediately noting the velvet upholstery to match that of the rest of the venue’s, and hail down the bartender when you spot them having finished with another guest. 

I won’t drink tonight, you tell yourself, thanking them with a nod. They set a glass of water before you a moment later, and you begin sipping gratefully from its straw. Mmm.

Finally having a moment to yourself again, you allow your eyes to wander around the room. It’s gotten a lot fuller since the time when it started… Celebrities and their dedication to arriving fashionably late… isn’t fashionable at all. 

You spot a lot of familiar faces around you: the small group of men bickering loudly in one of the furthest corners who’d all recently starred together in a “buddy”-cop movie, affectionately nicknamed on one of their sets as the Three Stooges; the tall raven haired woman who’d brought along a novel to read, a smile on her face while she covets it from a singular lounge chair, Nico Robin; just entering the fray after checking in his coat, a former co-star of yours, Donquixote Rosinante; and, to your right, cradling a tall drink of something clear and violet, sitting several feet taller than yourself and who’d be the one person able to send more than just your heart fluttering--

V-Vergo?! As unnoticeably as possible, you straighten in your chair, shimmying your hips to fit against the backing, and take another sip from your own water. 

Now, stage fright was something that you managed to siphon out of your repertoire after the first couple years of acting. It managed to control a lot of aspects of your life and even lucked you out of receiving a couple of good, substantial roles. So being here, for an event meant to help entertainers new and seasoned form connections or start networks or begin partnerships-- it means there’s no time for you to tremble on the sidelines. 

The time it takes for you to summon up the courage is embarrassing; Vergo’s already ordered a second drink, and you’re quite sure he’s noticed you glance his way (multiple times) in his own peripherals. If he did, he doesn’t mention it, nor would you have been able to tell with those dark shades he always wears. 

You also order a drink -- this time, a half-strong cocktail -- and swivel in your stool, the head of it rotating beneath you. Your eyes rise first, before you’re about to speak, only for your words to catch in your throat. Next to his lip sits a smudge of something soft orange in colour; a cream, of some sorts. You determine it’s one of the dips from the appetizer bar, and wonder how long it’s been there that no one’s said a word to him about it. 

“Are you content with simply staring, or is there something you’re looking to say?”

This time, your breath catches in your lungs. He hadn’t even turned your way, still hunched over the bartop. You want to apologize, or maybe, laugh. Instead, you swallow your introduction and reach up, collecting the food sauce on the pad of your index finger. His flinch is subtle, only the shoulder closest to you tensing in surprise at your bold gesture. 

“The roasted pepper goat cheese dip must’ve been really good for you to miss your mouth,” you muse, your heart pounding so hard it began to make your throat tighten. You’re about to reach for a napkin, when something otherworldly (you suspect) possesses you to tongue away the cream from your finger. “Yep. Roasted pepper goat cheese.”

“... and you are?” 

You hold back another, smaller laugh, this one to cover your own mortification. “Sorry! I meant to introduce myself first.” And you do, though you curse the small stutter that carries along with it. “It’s nice to meet you, officially. I’m… a big fan of you-- ah, your work!” You breath trembles. “S-Sorry, I’m trying to be professional here, but…”

“It’s fine,” Vergo says, lowering his cup to the bar. “We’ve all been there.”

“T-Thanks,” you murmur, sipping from yours. “I suppose you came here for the networking bit of the event?”

“That, and the open bar.” You snort. “You’re not familiar to me,” he adds. Although you figured he wouldn’t have seen you in any of your small productions, you can’t help the flush of abashed heat that crawls across your skin. “Have you had any luck?”

“Nothing substantial… Mostly just a lot of “we’ll be in touch with your manager”, but we all know what that means, haha…” His lack of response hints to the contrary. “A-And you? I’m sure you don’t need networking yourself, so… are you building one for your agency?”

“I’m here on their behalf,” he confirms. “Supposedly, my presence brings a lot of attention; we’ve had a lot of applicants over the past few years.”

Wonder where they might’ve gotten that idea from, you think. 

Another thought filters into your mind that makes embarrassed heat sweep through you; you chastise yourself for even considering asking something so… vulgar? But you manage to seal your lips to keep it contained.

“It looked like there was something you wanted to say.” Until his decision to ask it out of you was made.

Really, this could’ve been asked to any other person in the room -- but maybe not every person -- and yet, you find yourself blaming the measly half ounce of alcohol for your own perverted curiosities. 

“I just… You hear about these kinds of things and wonder if they’re true, right…? And usually, it’s the more established folks who get involved with these kinds of things, or at the very least, know about them…” You clear your throat and lean toward Vergo, who cranes his head down to match your height. “Do people really still try and sleep their way to the top?”

If he’d reacted in any way to your words, you don’t catch it. Rather, he politely clears his own throat, and stares down at you. 

“Is this something of interest to you?” he inquires, polishing off his drink a moment later. You flush.

“I, uh, n-not exactly…” You sigh, defeated. “But at this rate, I’d have more luck sleeping with some… executive producer or some superstar actor than landing a role through normal means. It’s just so frustrating. Why did everyone want to enter show business at the same time?”

Eyes stuck, you watch the bartender clear your glasses with a nod of approval from the two of you. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Vergo says. “This stands true, even outside of the script of a movie. Are you asking because you’re considering it?”

Your laugh is light, but self-pitying. “Wish I could lie and say I’m not. It’s… not cheap living in this city and getting few to no call backs. It’s either I get a part-time job as some minimum wage barista or, I don’t know… Whore out my talents, I guess.”

“And you’d do that with some… skeevy executive?”

You grimace. “Well, when you put it that way, it’s kind of gross. Something like that would be the last thing I’d ever want. God, I just wish I could get real, honest work…” 

Vergo goes silent. After such a strange turn in conversation -- even though he’d been the one to ask!! you remind yourself -- you don’t blame him for not knowing how to deviate from it; you don’t even know what to say from here. 

There’s a bit of shuffling from your right where he sits, and you find him sifting through the inner pockets of his blazer. He pulls out a card clip of his own, filled thick with laminated black and light blue business cards, and a white permanent marker, and begins writing on the bare backside of it.

“Take this,” he says, and slides it across the bar to you. “This is where I’ll be staying for the weekend. My room number.”

“Wh-- why--””A business proposition. One that I won’t speak about in public. Come or don’t come, that’s up to you. I’m not some “gross executive”, but I’ve at least been in this business long enough to tell you that it would be one worth your while.”

You pick up the card with trembling fingers, eyes still wide and glued on him, even as he stands up to adjust his suit.

“I’ll be saying my goodbyes to everyone now. Come at eleven tonight, if you do.”

Eleven… That’s only an hour away now. 

You’d called your manager to pick you up shortly after Vergo left. She’d inquired about your lack of conversational skills when you’d gotten into her vehicle, but your mind had been so occupied with thoughts of Vergo, the man you’d only idolized and, if you were being completely honest, simped after for a majority of your teenage and adult life.

You’d reasoned you could only speculate about the business proposal he had for you, but you know exactly what he intends to suggest should you decide to make your way to his hotel. It’s definitely not something he should suggest in public -- it’s not something he should’ve suggested at all considering his very public position in the media limelight. You could’ve taken this information and sold it to one of the paparazzi waiting outside. 

Maybe you looked more desperate than you’d meant to come across as. Because prior to your conversation with him, no; you’d never seriously considered “selling yourself” for a role or for fame, let alone to some equally-as-desperate executive. You’re pretty sure a song had been made about that.

It would’ve taken you an hour from your own apartment to reach Vergo’s hotel through downtown traffic anyhow… which is why you found yourself here earlier than you would’ve intended. However he plans to phrase this proposition of his, it’s not like you’ve said “yes” to anything yet. At the very least, you could hear him out. 

You’d changed into an outfit more casual, more professional, than the glittering evening gown you showed up in for the networking party-- a pair of loose slacks and a sweater vest-button up combo. Underneath, however, you made sure to wear something a little more… for the occasion. 

It’s just in case!! you swear to yourself as you clamber into the elevator, heart pounding. Like I’d be caught dead on any occasion wearing granny panties and a sports bra.

Vergo’s room is on the highest floor, the hotel’s penthouse suite they often reserved for VIP guests such as notable politicians and top names in the media. You hadn’t been sure how things normally work, but you learn that his room isn’t guarded by his security detail (not that you thought he needed it with him having self-defense training and him being built like a fridge) like you expected. It makes it easy for you to walk up and press the video doorbell, despite it being physically difficult. A moment later, the camera clicks on, and without a single word from the suite’s inhabitant, the door clicks, too, and you enter. 

You expected nothing short of excellence and minimalist beauty for the room and you aren’t disappointed. The penthouse suite is decked with expensive paintings and high-end leather furnishings and beautiful, shining black lacquer tables and stainless steel appliances-- you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“You came after all,” Vergo's voice echoes through the room as he descends from the second level. If you could afford to own and wear pearls, you’d be clutching them; it looks like he’d freshly showered just before you arrived, and, lucky you, he’d yet to put his glasses back on. 

“Hello again,” you greet. Anxious, you shift your weight onto one foot. “I figured I should at least hear out your “business proposal” before I turn it down.”

“I see. That’s very professional of you.” Standing only feet away from you now, you feel yourself shrinking and shriveling before him. “Drink?”

“Uh-- j-just water, please.” Vergo collects two glasses and fills them from the fridge’s cold water depository, handing one of them to you, and gesturing for you to follow him into the common area; a set of four cream-coloured leather couches, all facing each other with those black lacquer tables sitting at the end of each and in between them. You sit, and rather than sitting across from you, or at least adjacent to you, Vergo sits but a couple of feet away on the same couch. You take a drink before setting the cup on the table, swallowing harshly.

Vergo does the same. “I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen filth and I’ve seen good faith. The question you asked back at the party, if it’s all true? Yes. Of course, it is. Only a fool would dare to challenge this fact. Some are lucky, however; sometimes their attempt into “sleeping their way to the top”, as you’d put it, is achieved without a hitch.

“Others, not so much. Years to date, they’re still stuck in a cycle of use and abuse.” Vergo sighs at you. “I can only assume that you might have been joking earlier, about whoring out your talents to some no-good executive. You seem like an earnest young woman. The last thing I wish to see, and to remember being responsible for, is not ridding the idea from your head; is seeing you lost in that same cycle. So, I offer this to you:

“Roles. Riches. Fame. I can ensure you’ll receive it all, in exchange for that one thing.” It remains nameless, but the implication is clear. “As you put it, you’ll whore out your talents to me, and I’ll put them to good, proper use. You’re not without skill; simply, you’re without guidance.”

You decide to name it. “In exchange for sex.”

Vergo nods. “Yes.”

“That was all very straightforward of you.”

“Do you dislike it?”

With almost zero hesitation, you shake your head. “No.” You pause. “Besides the sex, what else are you getting out of this? Because it seems like I’m reaping double the rewards in this deal.”

“Self-satisfaction, perhaps,” he says. “Hm… I was once told I wouldn’t be a good mentor.”

“I’m hoping you’ve never propositioned another rookie like this before to earn that comment,” you muse, and to your surprise, you earn a chuckle from the man. 

“You would be the first to ever ask the question you did, so no. I would have had no other reason to.” Another pause occurs between you before Vergo gestures past the kitchen. “If you’d like to freshen up, the restroom is there.”

Even though I also showered again before coming here… “S-Sure. Thank you.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll… be waiting.”

You excuse yourself, stumbling a little on your way past the door frame. You slide the door shut and look at yourself in the long, wall-encompassing mirror.

You’re shaking. Unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, you decide to cool yourself down with a cold cloth to your forehead. Freshen up? What more could you do to prepare yourself for what you agreed to do? A verbal contract to achieve fame and even more, receive a good fuck. How is this going to work? Are you supposed to become signed to his agency? You’d been a freelancer for so many years. How often are you supposed to have sex with Vergo? The image of you as a purse puppy suddenly appears behind your eyes and you have to stop yourself from laughing at it; this is serious. And you seriously wonder if Vergo really has no other agenda or intentions behind this agreement.

You drop the cloth onto the counter and sigh heavily, at the same time the bathroom door slides open again. Spinning on your bare heel, you flinch at Vergo and his long, quick strides over to you. 

“I-I thought--!””I apologize,” he interrupts, stopping just before you. He crouches at his knees, his eager hands disappearing under you to scoop you into the air a moment later. You flail, a noise of surprise slipping past gritted teeth when he sets you down on the counter’s edge. “I’m afraid that this is where our agreement begins.”

His movements are hurried, his touch; heavy, but not harmful. You brace yourself while he helps to strip you down; a hand pressed against his chest with the other propping you up from the counter, he works around your lack of balance and lifts both your sweater vest and the blouse over your head, not bothering to unbutton it. Mouthing at your bare neck, he unclasps your white lace bra and tosses it behind him. His lips are quick to travel, to your jaw, to the sweet corners of your lips, parted enough for him, quite alike your thighs, to slot himself between; his lips, his thighs-- he pulls you to the edge of the counter to press one of them into your clothed cunt.

You gasp, the material of your trousers coarse enough and his movements exact enough that it makes you keen forward for more. Vergo's hands, big like the rest of him, smooths along your thighs and up to your hips, his thick fingers dipping with urgency beneath the waistband.

“Lift,” he commands, and you raise your ass from the countertop. Lowering yourself back down has you hissing from the cool chill of the marble, but the look on Vergo’s face has you quickly warming up again. Once more, he drags you to the counter’s edge before dropping onto his knees between yours.

“V-Vergo?” you ask, already breathless. He doesn’t speak again, busying himself with tugging your slacks and panties down past your hips and nipping down along your exposed flesh. 

His shoulders are too broad for you to even consider trying to shut your legs; his grip, too firm to be able to free your hands from being pinned down against the counter. If a single swipe of his tongue has you reeling (with nowhere to go but backward, your bare back pressed against the cold mirror to contrast the rest of your body and its burgeon), then the fervent suckling at your throbbing clit would have you utterly convulsing beneath him. Your cries, desperate and passing through clenched teeth, go ignored, save for the occasional glance your way; proving himself an attentive partner hadn’t been something you necessarily expected out of him, but it provided you with just another reason to remain infatuated with him.

Your feet kick out, looking for a surface to catch on and press against, but they, too, had been trapped under him--

“-- Vergo, I-I’m--!” 

-- until they weren’t. His release of you is abrupt, as is his ascent to stand as tall as the bathroom itself. You wheeze, not realizing you’d been holding your breath until now. 

“Why…” 

“Don’t start thinking the night will be cut short,” he says, unzipping his jacket and untying the knot of his sweats. “I’m not a one-round sort of man.” They fall into a heap on the floor beneath him, joining you in the nude. Glancing down where you feel his erection pressing against you is a challenge, especially when you eventually learn that it’s only touching you halfway. 

“Oh my god…” 

“Come.” He extends a hand to you that you hesitantly take. “You’ll be much more comfortable elsewhere.” 

Expecting to slide off the counter and onto your wobbling, fawn-like legs, had been incorrect. The large hand wrapped around yours had only been for your own leverage when he lifts you into his other arm, five feet off the ground, with little effort. You squirm in his hold, made anxious by the extra height, until you feel his fingers prodding at your cunt. You can feel, you can hear, just how wet he’d made it by the merit of his tongue alone as he stirs them along your opening. 

“Relax,” he tells you. “You’ll want this done properly before we really begin.”

You make to speak, what likely would’ve been a choked noise coming from you, but instead you squeak, suddenly impaled on two of his fingers. 

“Put your arms around my neck.” To the best of your ability, you do, trembling flesh and bones curling carefully around corded muscle. “And put your legs around me.” This, you find, is much harder, and so with his help, your legs curl around his waist. 

“Lift,” he says again, and you lean back to glance at him. “I said, lift.”

… you do, a gasp immediately escaping you when you end up falling back onto his fingers. You scramble, weak limbs attempting to free you from their range, only to slide right back down.

“Vergo,” you whine

“Hold on tight.” You do. With every ounce of whatever strength you could muster, you do. The penthouse is a completely private suite, and in a building taller than all the rest around it, you have complete privacy, and yet, being paraded through such an open, exposed space, on your way up to the room’s second floor, you find yourself trying to hide what you can of yourself; a redundant, unfruitful effort. 

Having removed his fingers, he has you unlace your limbs from around him to fall onto his bed. 

“Under normal circumstances, I’d certainly be taking my time.” You glance down, and find Vergo stroking himself to an even greater length than you’d first seen him. It’s not natural, you begin to panic. He’s huge, a-and his thing’s even bigger, I-- i-it’ll never fit, there’s no way-- “I’d have you coming on my hands and into my mouth three times each before we even got up the stairs.”

Your cheeks burn; your attempt to hide your expression behind your arm fails when he takes both of your wrists in a single hand and pins them above your head. With his other, he grabs himself at his base, and lines him up with your arousal. 

“Remember to breathe.”

Instinctively, you do the exact opposite. 

Being impaled on his fingers hadn’t even been comparable. Even prior to him undressing, you knew he wouldn’t be small by any means; your mind might’ve still been in a state of shock, even before he thrust into you. “Remember to breathe”? You can barely string a thought together. And whatever breaths make it out of you are punched from your lungs each time the head of his cock meets the depths of your cunt. 

Vergo leans down over you, curling his free arm around your waist from behind, and presses his lips into your ear. 

“Breathe,” he repeats on the backing of a grunt, his voice a deep, muted whisper that has you clenching even harder down on him. “You’ll -- ngh -- pass out if you don’t.”

Your nails pierce your palms. I’d like… to see you try and breathe… with this shit inside of you!!

“Damn, you’re so tight.” Vergo rocks his hips forward, his own lips parted and letting his own pants escape right next to your ear. “Thought I prepared you enough f’me.”

He no longer eases himself into you, instead snapping his pelvis into yours with little restraint. Hands still wrapped around your wrists, he pulls you up onto your knees, rising behind you and holding your back to his chest; the reprieve of being weighed down by him is short-lived as he impales you once more upon him-- his fingers couldn’t even compare to the fullness plaguing you. You choke on the small doses of oxygen you’re able to take in, and with your free hands, you scramble to find a stance that relieves the pressure; not even standing with the tips of your toes pressed into the mattress spares you.

Instead, you bring a shaking hand down to smack across the forearm locking you against him. “I-I-- haa -- I’m g… onna break… p… lease…! Ver… go…!”

Vergo groans into the crook of your neck, and presses a hand over your abdomen. Your breath hitches; aside from the spasming of your limbs, you still from shock, forced to accept the orgasm he and his cock had bullied you into. 

“Then… become broken by me.”

A large hand sweeps forward to turn your head toward him. You can’t stop him, not that you’d try in such a state, when he presses his tongue against your lips to pry them apart. Whines and moans alike, he swallows them all, leaves you breathless and weakly swatting at him to release you. Instead, he releases into you, and you wince at the heat of his spend filling your womb.

Before you’re even out of his arms and laying in the plush sheets below, you find yourself too dizzied to remain upright, and faint against him.

A woman’s laugh drags you back into consciousness. 

Eyelids heavy, you blink the bedroom into focus, squinting when your gaze lands on the warmth of the lamp on the bedside table. Body and skin tender, you gingerly roll onto your other side, wincing at the small ache felt across your pelvis.

You’d expected to wake still covered in sweat and spend; a happy surprise it ended up being for you to learn that you’d been taken care of, as the drops of cum you knew flicked up to hit your cheeks were wiped away. 

There, Vergo sits, phone in hand and thumb-scrolling down a white-glowing screen. 

“W… Was someone just in here,” you mumble, raising the back of your hand to rub blurred exhaustion from your vision. Vergo shakes his head.

“I’m going through available scripts I think might suit your skill set.” He swipes in the opposite direction, “And ones that might pressure you to work a little more,” to show you that he’d been watching an acting reel your manager had uploaded to the web of you. A flush of embarrassment rolls through you, as if you’d just performed for him, not in bed, but on a set. “After all, I need to keep up my end of our bargain, no?”

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