#chatty writes

[elmswriting]

Title: The Paradox of Love and Power, Revisited

Setting: Malfoy Manor, during the First Wizarding War

Lucius Malfoy stood in the opulent drawing room of Malfoy Manor, a setting of luxury that belied the tension in the air. Tonight, the manor's walls would reverberate with dark incantations and whispered conspiracies—the clandestine meeting of Death Eaters. He looked around, his eyes falling on the masks and dark robes strewn about, stark reminders of his double life.

Across the room, separated by a world of unspoken complexities, was Narcissa. She stood at the periphery, her ethereal beauty contrasting sharply with the dark room. She was no Death Eater, but her life was inextricably linked to one. It was a paradox, a cruel kindness that Lucius felt deeply. He wanted to protect her, shield her from this world of darkness, yet his actions exposed her to it.

Lucius' Internal Dialogue: I've brought her into a realm of danger, thinking it's to protect our family, our legacy. Is it bravery or foolishness?

Narcissa felt his eyes on her and looked up. His gaze was intense, a palpable force laden with unspoken emotion. It was a blend of power and vulnerability that sent ripples through her usual composure.

Narcissa's Internal Dialogue: He looks at me as if I'm his sanctuary, but what if I'm also his Achilles' heel? We're entangled in this perilous reality, and our love is both our armor and our vulnerability—an open secret.

Drawn together as if by an invisible thread, they found themselves standing closer, isolated from the ominous gathering. The air between them was thick with sensual tension, a palpable heavy lightness that seemed to defy the gravity of their situation.

Lucius' Internal Dialogue: To touch her would be an ephemeral escape, a sweet sorrow as the walls of reality close in again.

In a moment that felt both fleeting and eternal, Narcissa reached out and lightly touched his arm. Her touch was full of contradictions—a comfort and a torment, a simple gesture echoing their complex reality.

Narcissa's Internal Dialogue: I wish to assure him we'll survive this, but that would be a comforting lie. It's a paradox, a form of enjoyable suffering.

Lucius looked at her hand on his arm, a simple touch that shattered his typical self-assured thought patterns. He felt compelled to say something, to encapsulate the storm of emotions within him.

Lucius: "We'll find a way through this, Cissa."

Her eyes met his, mirrors reflecting the same mosaic of fear and love, hope and despair. It was a minimal exchange of words, yet it felt as if they had laid their souls bare—a gentle betrayal of his emotional reserve.

Narcissa: "I believe we will, but at what cost, Lucius?"

The question lingered, a form of organized chaos encapsulating the essence of their relationship. They were each other's sanctuary and their own battlefield, a paradox both bewildering and inherently understandable.

Lucius' Internal Dialogue: She's right, as always. The cost is an enigma, a riddle with no easy answer. All I know is I would pay any price to keep her safe—even if it endangers us both. A foolish wisdom.

Narcissa's Internal Dialogue: And I would follow him, wherever this dark path leads. An intelligent folly.

As Lucius returned to the inner circle, his robes swirling around him like a cloak of darkness, the contradiction of their existence was palpable. Their love was an oxymoron, a complex interplay of opposites—fear and courage, darkness and light, bondage and freedom. Yet it was real, as tangible as the war raging beyond their walls, a love that defied simple definitions. It was their precious bane, their lonely crowd, their sweet sorrow.

In a world increasingly filled with contradictions, they were the most beautiful oxymoron of them all. And as they faced an uncertain future, that oxymoronic love remained their one unwavering certainty.

Thus, in a room brimming with paradoxes, they stood as the most intricate—two souls deeply in love but ensnared by a world that might tear them asunder. A complex enigma that neither could untangle, and yet, neither wished to.

[geryone]

Night Poem, Leila Chatti

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Talkative Sparkmate — B-127 x GN!Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff, mild angst || They/them pronouns for reader, reader is a bot || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 B-127 wasn't as stupid as he seemed. Was he a little naive due to his isolation? Yes, did he have tendency to ramble? Also yes. But his lack of social ettiquite often got mistaken for ignorance, which was where most were wrong. He knew a lot, actually. Plenty of old Cybertronian records got thrown into Sublevel 50, usually by Sentinel's demands. He'd gotten hold of all of them, reading each thoroughly, hence his excitement when he felt he had the chance to see it all

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When he found you, and you actually expressed interest in what he had to say, he went on endlessly about all the knowledge he'd obtained. For a while you couldn't get him off your back, he adored spilling any of his thoughts to you whenever he thought there was anything worth mentioning (which happened to be... nearly all the time)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 After a while, you noticed his chatting slowly beginning to receed. It confused you, all you heard from other mechs was how B-127 was this talkative and cheery bot, you didn't expect him to suddenly clam up whenever he was trying to say something

ᯓᡣ𐭩 After gently asking about it, B revealed that he was more perceptive than others seemed to think of too. He knew how other mechs talked about him, and he knew they often said he talked far too much. He got worried he might be bothering you, so he had been trying to hold himself differently around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You were quick to reassure him that it was okay, and that you genuinely didn't mind. You knew he didn't do well with silence or feeling ignored, and you didn't want him to think you'd gotten tired of him. B seemed hesitant to take your words to spark, but he slowly got comfortable once more

ᯓᡣ𐭩 B-127, through his many chats, did sometimes let some concerning things slip around you absentmindedly. He'd mention offhandedly how silence deeply discomforted him after being sent to the Sublevel, and how he often talked aloud just so he wouldn't have to feel as alone. You'd always reassure him, promising that you'd be there for him to talk to if he needed. He always gave a chipper response, but you could tell there was more to it beneath his vibrant excitement

ᯓᡣ𐭩 B tended to get rather nervous if you weren't around. You were one of the only mechs he hadn't annoyed by now, and he never strayed far from your side usually. He hides quite a bit of it from you in the early relationship stages, worried that any given conversation may be one that convinces you that he's too much

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As happy as he typically is, his vibrance does occasionally falter. He likes to keep up a peppy attitude to the slowly forming Autobot team, but he's honestly with you, trusting you to take his woes seriously and listen to him where others brushed him off, which he starting doing more and more when he was sure you genuinely wanted to hear

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In return for listening to him, B makes sure to be attentive to everything you say to him. He commits it all to memory, making sure to factor in little details. He's great with giving you little, meaningful gifts about small details you mention liking because of this

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's very prone of giving you handmade gifts, and he loves when you give compliments to anything he makes. Especially if you memorize their names or little facts he tells about his makeshift friends, he absolutely lights up and gets so excited to have someone not only hear him, but genuinely care

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's got zero problems telling you how much he loves you. Seriously, he'll tell you whenever he can and however much you need to hear that you have his whole spark, he's very prone to words of affirmation to show affection

[asoftepiloguemylove]

Arcane (2021-2024) cr. Christian Linke & Alex Lee // unknown // Anton Chekhov // Anaïs Nin Nearer the Moon: From "A Journal of Love:" The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1937-1939 // Leila Chatti Night Lament in Hergla // Samuel Beckett Waiting for Godot // Sophocles Electra // Sarah Kane Cleansed // Car Seat Headrest Reuse the Cels // Ocean Vuong On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

[bruciemilf]

There's such. An obscure feeling knotting up in my throat when I think of Megatronus and what he could’ve been.

Imagine an AU where they meet, even briefly, when Dee was a sparkling? Before icons eroded into history?

Normally, sparklings aren't enrolled into labor so young, — However. Iacon laws apply to Iacon citizens.

Certainly not to Kaon bastards, as Sentinel so generously puts it.

Thinking about tiny Dee running through huge peds, carrying more energon cubes than his body can sustain.

His chassis burns with exhaustion and his servos ache, but he's felt what Darkwing’s massive backhand can do if deliveries aren't completed at his speed.

As expected of his unfortunate luck, he collides with a purple mech. “Oh! I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to— honest! Please —”

“Are you alright, sparkling?”

D-16 knows this voice very well. Miners play it on the news receiver almost all the time. It comes by rarely, very, actually, but evading fame hasn't made it any harder to admire him. Not for him.

“…Megatronus Prime?”

He can only theorize Megatronus returned from a mission. He always prefers to help soldiers in action, not speech.

But there's something extremely weird, in the way he gently retrieves the cubes from Dee’s arms into a single hand.

“Allow me to help. You shouldn't be on your own. Are your guardians nearby?”

Thankfully, his voicebox regains the ability to speak. “I…Don’t have guardians, sir.”

There’s almost a shame. Being unclaimed. No identity or history or footprint to follow home. Kaon boys learn young.

There's no heavy judgment on Megatronus’ plate, masked but not guarded, nor pity in his vocals. Simply a saddened understanding. “No?”

“No,” anyone would feel small next to a Prime. D-16 felt even smaller. “I’m— from Kaon. Sir.”

He prepares for the heavy sentence of rejection. It does not come. Judging by the slight twitch in the other’s optics, Megatronus smiles under the battle mask.

“Me too. Shall I walk you back home, then?”

“Um— to the mines, sir.”

“Mines. Interesting.”

He invites Dee to ride on his shoulder. He accepts. He talks for the whole entire walk, too excited to contain himself. He's not told to stop.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I just have to say, there is no greater joy for me than seeing an avid reader of one of my fics pop up in the comments of one of my newer ones. My bread and butter right there yall. Also when someone notices the tropes I tend to carry across stories its just

I always get anxious making a new fic because WHAT IF NO ONE LIKES IT-

And then a familiar reader pops up and I'm just :D:D:D Friend!!! You came friend!!! Hope you like my newest horrific or fluffy idea friend!!!

[elmswriting]

The Assay of Love

Sirius Black was not one for introspection. He lived his life by gut instinct, propelled by the thrumming energy of the present moment. But today was different; today he found himself at an impasse, unable to proceed without first assessing—assaying—the purity of his emotions.

Remus Lupin was the catalyst for this newfound need for evaluation. For months now, they had been toeing the line between friendship and something... more. The tension between them was palpable, filling the room like a storm cloud, demanding attention.

"It's like living on the edge of a cliff," Sirius had once confided in James. "I don't know whether to take the plunge or to run in the opposite direction."

But that was the thing about cliffs—you never knew how high or low they were until you looked over the edge. So, for the first time in his life, Sirius decided to assay, to test the strength and purity of his feelings for Remus. It wasn't a metal or a substance that could be melted down and evaluated for its components, but it was something infinitely more valuable. It was love—or so he hoped.

Meanwhile, Remus was embroiled in his own assay. Being the more contemplative of the two, he often found himself mired in self-analysis. But this was different; this was an evaluation that could change the course of his life. Could he afford to love Sirius Black? Was it a luxury or a necessity? Was it pure emotion, or was it tainted with desperation, fear, or loneliness?

He pondered this as he watched Sirius from across the room, laughing and joking with James and Peter. He looked so carefree, his eyes dancing like embers in the dim light, and Remus felt his heart swell with affection. Or was it love? That was the question he needed to assay, to test for purity.

The moment came unexpectedly, during a quiet evening in their shared dorm. They were both reading, absorbed in their respective worlds, but the tension was there, humming beneath the surface like a hidden vein of gold waiting to be discovered.

Finally, Sirius put down his book and looked up. "Remus," he began, uncertainty edging his voice.

Remus sensed the gravity of the moment and set his own book aside, meeting Sirius's gaze with an openness that took his breath away.

"I need to know," Sirius continued, "what this is between us. I can't pretend any longer."

For a moment, Remus was silent. Then he spoke, his voice tinged with the same uncertainty that Sirius felt. "I've been asking myself the same question."

So they sat there, in the stillness of the night, each assaying the emotions that lay between them. It was a test, a measure of purity, but it was also a gamble. Yet, as their eyes met and their souls touched, they both knew the answer even before it was spoken.

"It's love," Remus said, finally breaking the silence. "Pure, unadulterated love."

And as Sirius leaned in to kiss him, he realized that the assay was complete. The love they felt for each other had been tested and found pure, and that was all they ever needed to know.

[fatedroses]

Mateus was a little creature when he was younger.

[millersfinest]

ok pookies, i’m actually working on that jennifer’s body fic that i proposed some time ago eeekk!!! (dont get attached to the name or blurb because it might change ijbol) (my creative process is prompting an idea, then changing it as i write it 😭😭)

[conscydraws]

Order 38. Undelivered.

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Princess Lily

[scribblestatic]

Amputee!SY incoming. Round Two, fight!

Prev: Part 6

---

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the next, an uproar.

Demons and cultivators alike loudly rebuked Cang Qiong Sect, the cultivators doing so out of outrage that the most prominent cultivation sect would do something so cruel, and the demons doing so because even most of them, for as dog-eat-dog as demon society often was, wouldn't go so far as to pollute their siblings with spiritual qi.

Of course, it was convenient to blame it all on them. Demons and cultivators outside of the sect had surely done worse, depending on the situation. But that wasn't what Luo Binghe cared to clarify.

What had once been understood as a failing purely on Shen Qingqiu's part was now understood to be the negligence of the sect he sought refuge in. The sect whose lead disciple, whose future sect leader, he had saved. He wasn't bad at cultivating, he was almost willfully sabotaged by those he should've been able to trust.

"Since this lord has been able to assist him, he has not suffered another deviation. His core has stabilized, and his power grows increasingly precise. How many can say they can precisely control a quill and write a letter using their qi alone?

"Since this lord has been able to find a balance with his own demonic and spiritual qi, so too has Shen Qingqiu. Ah...well, that is, if you wish to still be called that, Wife."

Shen Yuan was gazing toward the ground quietly. With his fan on his lap, they could see the blank mask he'd forced his expression into. There was no rage, no anger...not even resentment.

Just contemplation.

His eye closed and he huffed, his fan rising to cover the lower half of his face again.

"...This one prefers the name Yuan."

It pained him to hurt his beloved like this. He clearly was hurt, considering he didn't give even a little token protest to being called a 'wife' instead of a 'husband.'

To dig up old wounds and lay them bare once again was something he had hesitated to do. But this would be the final time he did so, and not for his own self-service, but to further legitimize Shen Yuan's position as his empress.

He would clear Shen Yuan's name with this, and Cang Qiong Sect would be witness to it.

"Of course, A-Yuan."

As much as he wanted to kiss him, he had that tense energy about him, the kind that said he'd prefer to be left alone. He must be thinking of so much... It would do well for him to simply get this done with as quickly as he could.

---

"So now, you reject the name given to you by your shifu?"

"Peak Lord He, this lord dares not assume that your wine also hinders the mind. Surely, if you were so thoroughly betrayed by your shifu, would you want to keep the name given to you by them?"

The man scowled. "Does anyone reject the name given to them by their parents? Hate it or not, betrayed or not, he was given the name Qingqiu as a courtesy to his position."

"Ah, but this lord has yet another point, one that helps shed light on this charge and another. Three, Shen Qingqiu's legal insanity, specifically his psychosis, were in part triggered by his courtesy name and even my own, leading to his targeted hatred toward me. In addition to this, this lord wishes to address the charge against Shen Yuan for the murder and eradication of House Qiu.

"My love, how do you plead?"

"Guilty."

"Cease this!" Qi Qingqi bellowed. "That charge is not for you to try to absolve! Do you intend to overwrite Qiu Haitang's justice for the sake of this farce of a crowning? To betray one of your wives to put another, a man, in the top position of your harem?"

"Peak Lord Qi, your misandry has nothing to do with how I run my harem. And, to clarify, no, I have no intent to overwrite Qiu Haitang's justice...instead, this lord intends to question whether the ruling was fairly just or needlessly cruel, as my own punishments toward him had been."

With the inward curl of two of his fingers, guards entered the area. Between them, they held the arms of a struggling Qiu Haitang. They didn't hold her particularly tightly, but her cultivation was apparently rather weak.

They carefully released her, and she pulled away, huffing and looking particularly wronged.

"What is the meaning of this, Husband? I already accepted that you came to love the one who killed my whole family more than me. I've even accepted that you want to give him such a high position, one he can lord over me for as long as your affections allow! Why do you continue to antagonize me?!"

"Tang-er, don't exaggerate. Shen Yuan killed all of the men of your clan, but he left the women untouched, did he not?"

"That's the same as killing my family! You agreed back then!"

Luo Binghe nodded morosely. "That I did. However, this lord must admit to his faults. I believe it is imperative that the hatred between you and Shen Yuan be alleviated."

"Hah! Never! How dare you ask me to do such a thing!! I have no say on who you allow in your bed, but you cannot...you will not control my emotions! I know the truth, and that truth is that I will, forever, hate Shen Qingqiu for what he did to my family!"

"Hmm, I see. But what about what your family did to him?"

Qiu Haitang froze, clearly affronted.

"What my family did to him? What did we do? Elevate his position? Feed him? Clothe him? We brought him into our family when he was a mere slave, and he repaid our kindness with slaughter. All because A-Luo didn't want him to abandon our engagement!"

"'A-Luo'?"

"Yes, A-Luo! My elder brother and head of our family, Qiu Jianluo! Why do you act as though you don't remember him?!"

"'A-Luo'...yes. I do remember us discussing him at length. You'd said he was a tad firm, but an otherwise loving brother."

Aggrieved, tears sprung to Qiu Haitang's eyes. "He was... He was! He, and Lao Tao, Lao Yang...our servants, our family, everyone... I loved them all dearly. And he stole them away from me! That slave abandoned the people who gave him an education, who taught him how to behave, and he brutalized them, all so he could raise his status to that of a lofty immortal, unfettered by our engagement!"

"Mmm, yes. This lord remembers. We also discussed how, by happenstance, a childhood nickname of mine sounded incredibly similar to it. Your brother's A-Luó, and my A-Luò. Why, they almost sound the same."

"They do! That's why...that's why Tang-er thought you were like him, but if you're going to... If you're going to humiliate me to such an extent, to allow the man who killed my gege to become your empress, then I need not stay! Release me from your harem and let me go!"

"As you wish."

Qiu Haitang finally went quiet.

"...Excuse me?"

"I said, 'As you wish.' This lord will divorce you right now, if you so desire."

Stricken silent by his assertion, she didn't say anything. And so, Luo Binghe decided to move things along.

"Wife."

Shen Yuan's eye flinched before his fan bapped softly against the hand closest to him.

"Who's your wife?"

The happy smile Binghe gave him, despite the coldness he was faced with, surprised many in the crowd, including members of the Cang Qiong Sect entourage. It was more like how one would look at a feisty kitten testing their bitty claws on their hand, all smiles as it scratched little raw strips into their flesh.

He was positively besotted.

Of course, only those close to Shen Yuan would know that his response was a sign that he was managing with the situation. He wouldn't reveal how thin his face could be if he truly felt too distressed. Shen Yuan was uncomfortable, but he could get through it.

Even so, that endeared look faded to concern.

"...This lord hates to ask this of you, but could you tell us how you saw Qiu Jianluo?"

Shen Yuan pressed his lips tightly together, his gaze falling to the nearby floor.

"You said nothing during your trial, and we only pursued judgement under Qiu Haitang's account. But since we've been married, you've talked to me. This lord doesn't want to put you in this position, but we need your account as well."

He didn't budge.

"...You will be heard this time."

Silence.

A breath in.

Then, Shen Yuan's eye snapped open.

"I would've rather remained a slave on the street than to ever have been sold to House Qiu."

---

Shen Yuan felt a tad weird.

A little like he wasn't alone in his body. Or, well, maybe he was, but it felt like there was someone behind him.

It wasn't a feeling that made him afraid. No, just a bit disjointed. Like he and the one behind him were pressing together, back to back.

The dreams he had about House Qiu, once more difficult to detail, sprung to his mind with ease like a core memory. And with it came all the feelings that attached to the memory, causing his chest to clench and teeth to ache.

As though piloted by the other one...or, perhaps given the energy necessary to pilot it himself, Shen Yuan allowed the words to fly from his mouth.

And with each word, a little bit of weight attached to them disintegrated.

---

Liu Mingyan had heard a Shen Yuan rant before. He'd done several about her works, always expressing what he liked but being just as expressive about what he hated, remembering to calm down and say his critique was purely because he knew she could write even better.

And it wasn't as though he was wrong. Her book reviews under her penname had indeed improved in sales. A gaggle of nuns she'd befriended, wives that amicably returned to their sect after separating from Luo Binghe, asked who her editor was and how much their rates would be to have the mystery editor review their works.

They'd been quite tempted to return to the harem when she revealed who'd helped her. But it made sense, didn't it? Shen Yuan, formerly Qingqiu, had been second-in-command only to the head of Cang Qiong Sect, the leading cultivation sect under the heavens. He was an renown expert in the four arts, literature included.

And he critiqued trashy yellow books as severely and wholeheartedly as tomes of great historical magnitude.

Yes, she's heard more than one Shen Yuan rant before.

This one had to be the most severe. The most raw. The most painful one she'd heard.

And it hurt to hear it, because she had no doubt that every word that left his mouth was true.

He spoke inelegantly. Elegance would've perhaps cheapened his account. There was no room for it. Inelegant as it was, it was narrative. Illustrative.

"Do I look like a martial arts dummy to you? A bled and slaughtered hog? Because he sure loved smacking his fists against my ribs like he was tenderizing meat for the nightly dinner I never got to eat."

"Taught me to write? Hah. He figured out I could write just before he was going to beat me to death for using qi to get his horse to stop running through the streets like a maniac. I didn't know how to write a whole lot, but all he had to do was throw books at me. I learned by my own damn self."

"Got tempted by a wandering cultivator? I was barely let outside! Freed from the slave contract? Where'd you hear that?! It's all dogshit. Either that perverted bastard came up with it, or Qiu Haitang put a bunch of mismatched information together and came up with it herself. Which, at that point, I can't really blame her. I'm not sure the ladies of that house would've told her what I dealt with. It's completely fair to want answers."

"A-Yuan, one moment," Luo Binghe interrupted. "Why did you call Qiu Jianluo perverted?"

At that question, his mouth shuttered briefly. This time, when he spoke again, his voice was stilted.

"...He... There was a reason he didn't hit my face. Everything else was fair game, but not my face. Qiu Haitang picked me up because of my face..."

He pursed his lips briefly, then continued.

"...Qiu Jianluo also liked my face."

"Lies!!"

Qiu Haitang screamed at the top of her lungs, moving forward as though she would stomp up the stairs to the throne and try to rip Shen Yuan from his seat. The guards quickly stopped her before her foot could touch the first step. Her squirming did little to move them.

"You're lying! You're lying! My gege was nothing like what you've said! You can only accuse him of these things because he's dead! You killed him! He never hit you! He never hurt you! He treated you with nothing but kindness, and you're the one who went insane and killed everyone!"

"Not everyone."

Although she was too far gone in her rage to notice it, Liu Mingyan heard the icy tone in Luo Binghe's voice, his dark eyes staring down at her with an increasing amount of derision.

"Only the men... Only the men."

Only the men.

"Oh gods," Liu Mingyan muttered.

"...You need not say more, A-Yuan, if it is too much."

"Ah, uhm... No, wait. I mean, he did threaten to... He just." He paused. "He threatened to...watch. To watch me. With other men in the house.

The words seemed increasingly hard to get out, his face turning red.

"He didn't rape... He didn't rape me. He threatened to. Threatened that others would. Had them..." Breathe. "Hold me down."

Only the men.

"...What happened the night you escaped?"

Quiet. Qiu Haitang kept screaming that he was lying.

"Were you prompted you to do what you did? If so, what happened?"

"It's a lie! Binghe!! Don't believe him!"

"A-Yuan. Please, tell me if you can."

"He's a liar! He's lecherous! You know what Ning Yingying said!!"

"...That's...right. That's right! Where is Ning Yingying! She accused him of grooming her!" Qi Qingqi called out. "Are you sure about his account now?"

"Wife."

"We took you in! We fed you! We clothed you! How dare you do this to us! How dare you do this to me!!"

"Can we really trust what he's saying? He's molested his own disciple!"

"You-!! If you hated us so much, why not kill me, too?! Why not kill everyone?! You pervert!! You lecher!! You mangey dog!! You beast!"

Luo Binghe's eyes snapped upwards, rage curling on his face.

But he didn't get a single word out before—

"Call me that again, and I'll be tempted to rip your throat out like I did your brother."

Shen Yuan stared coldly at Qiu Haitang, eye wide and a tad unfocused. A few moments passed, and the focus returned to it, as did the blood to his face. He began panting slightly, like he'd suddenly ran a great length or like he'd been holding his breath.

Recognition slowly came onto his face.

"He didn't rape me. Because I ripped his throat out before he could. And then I grabbed a sword with my qi when the guards came because they heard him gurgle. And I stabbed them. Then I stabbed Qiu Jianluo. Again and again and again.

"I stabbed him until I couldn't recognize his face anymore. And I started stabbing everyone who could've done the same thing he was going to do to me. Ones he'd threatened to watch. Ones who never helped. Guards. Servants. All of them."

Silence.

"How did you rip his throat out?"

Shen Yuan turned toward Binghe with a movement that seemed too smooth, like his head was on a swivel.

"...With my teeth."

"Did you remember doing this before now?"

"...I don't know."

"Wife?"

"Mm?"

Binghe frowned, moving to kneel on a knee beside Shen Yuan's throne, placing his hands on his face. Despite the open display of affection, he didn't move away.

"Do you know where you are right now?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes."

He blinked, then glanced upward.

"...I think I'm dissociating."

"Deviating? ...Your qi is sluggish, but—"

"No, no. Dissociating. Detaching from reality, triggered by stress or trauma. A feeling of daydreaming or intensely focused while not naturally integrating consciousness, identity, memory, or perception. The Falling Sun Dewdrop produces a similar sensation to depersonalization if you...uhm. Maybe I shouldn't explain how to do that. I think I won't.

"Unlike a qi deviation, which essentially shuts down one's consciousness and causes their body to react erratically in response to their charging qi, dissociating is...mmm... Depends on if its depersonalization or derealization. Sorry, I'm feeling a little—"

"Shh, don't. Don't apologize, A-Yuan. You've done well."

"Mm."

"Thank you for telling me."

Shen Yuan leaned his cheek against one of Binghe's hands, his eye closing calmly.

"...Mm."

"We can stop now, if you want."

"...Nah."

"Why not?"

"The bandage is removed and the wound is festering. Let's cut it all the way off." Shen Yuan smiles and raises one of his arms a little. "You're good at removing limbs, Binghe."

Although Shen Yuan didn't see it, Binghe bowed his head, still holding his. A clawed thumb brushed his cheek softly.

"...This lord wishes he wasn't."

"Oh... It was supposed to be a joke. I'm sorry."

When Binghe couldn't manage to respond, Shen Yuan opened his eye and leaned further toward him.

"Hey... Hey, Binghe. It really was a joke. I was wrong to you, and I did a lot of terrible things, so I'm not mad. You were just a kid, Binghe. And I shoved you into the Endless Abyss because I felt like I finally had a good reason to hate you. Even though I know humans and demons aren't all that different. I thought, 'Men, and especially Luos, are all the same,' and treated you badly, falsely blaming it on you being half demon.

"But I used it all as an excuse. You didn't deserve any of what I did. You didn't deserve my jealousy over how strong you were at cultivating, or me assuming you'd grow up to be like Autumn Tangled Net and ensnare everyone or treat me like shit. And though you kinda did, it wasn't your fault. I was like your Qiu Jianluo, without the weird pervert shit. And you cut my limbs off. And I think that's fair."

The demon emperor, bewildered, let out a choked laugh, raising his head to look at him again, eyes misty.

"Was that meant to be reassuring, love?"

"Yeah."

"I'm afraid it didn't quite work."

"Awwh... Hey, do you think we could keep going in...uhm. Well, you asking me questions? Stuff is kinda starting to feel real again, so, uh, I'd like to answer whatever you want to ask before I combust out of embarrassment. You know, like a total mess. I'll never be able to be empress at this rate. No one would approve of me. My reputation is ruined. Why'd you marry me?"

"Because I love you."

"Embarrassing. Shameless. I love you, too. Say that again."

This time, when Luo Binghe laughed, it was genuine. He leaned forward and whispered into his ear, presumably saying those requested words again. He then kissed the huadian on Shen Yuan's forehead before he stood, shedding the calm softness he'd put on for his future empress.

"...Time and time again, Shen Yuan has had to face difficult and demeaning circumstances without letting out his fear and instability. Surely, none would ridicule him for finally, after years of persecution, cracking under that pressure."

When he turned to the crowd, it was as though he'd shed all illusions that he was anything but some wretched beast that crawled from the Endless Abyss. A rictus grimace seemed to unnaturally split his face, the whites of his eyes bright. His zuiyin glowed a fierce red.

A terrible murderous intent befell the others, leaving them unable to move in the face of a predator.

"Right?"

"Binghe."

And immediately, the moment ended, the man turning a kind smile to his wife.

"Alright, alright."

"...Fuck."

Liu Mingyan jolted slightly before turning toward Sha Hualing, who, at some point, moved closer to her. Her arms wrapped around one of hers, moving a little bit behind her.

"Reminded me of that freaky Binghe that almost killed me."

"Ah."

So that's where she recalled that killing intent.

----

Oh, by the way, I'm a huge fan of horror!Binghe. I want that half-demon boy to come back from the Endless Abyss irrevocably changed, and, of course, Shen Yuan looks at him and is just like, "Look at my sweet boy, who has done nothing wrong ever."

They're freak 4 freak, fr.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7: here Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11+: links on Part 10

AO3

[ilkkawhat]

[princess-self-shipping]

Anyone else think not shutting the fuck up runs in the family- *shot*

[nshtn]

guys. should i write a fake virology study on Progenitor in google docs like it's an established NLM NIH study