cupids-corner

he's a shut-in omega who doesn't see any alphas (or really much of anyone) on a regular basis and he's never quite been at the peak of his health, so what, screw him. it was bound to happen sooner or later, and to be honest, it doesn't really mess with his current schedule, so who is he to complain?

besides, finding an alpha to cozy up with is kind of on the bottom of the list of his priorities, what with the whole hunt for kira business going down.

cue light, an alpha, to immediately clock what's happening with l. he decides against inquiring about it and puts the information away for the time being- while it's interesting knowledge about his enemy, secondary genders have never been a part of their unique cat-and-mouse.

(and plus, he's already trying to compartmentalize any and all feelings he has towards l. kira doesn't need his tormentor painted in any more of a sympathetic hue.)

there is a brief moment right after the subdrop is triggered where everyone is nervously placing bets on if the only local alpha at their disposal will offer himself up to help with pheromone exposure therapy, and when both parties remain silent, it is sort of just clumsily swept under the rug.

the otome game npc i summoned by clicking on an unidentified link: i'm in love with you.

the entire reason that hornet was born was because the pale king was running out of options and desperate to cage the radiance. i doubt that he, a ruler of hallownest and a pale being to boot, would have accepted a mortal bug's offer to mate (even if said bug was one of the strongest out there) if he was not well and truly spread thin.

we do not know much about the hollow knight and hornet's relationship back in the pre black egg temple days, but if we adopt popular theories and hcs, we would have to say that hornet, even if just as she grew older, was aware in some capacity of her sibling's impending doom. hornet is shown to be very perceptive (sensing the knight's intent at city of tears, noticing something was wrong and breaking us out of herrah's den in deepnest, being the daughter of a 'beast' which means she should also inherit predator instincts) and thus of course she at least was partially aware of hollow’s fate-to-be. even at the center of her world, surrounded by some of her favorite bugs, she was forced to reckon with how a single jilted goddess would tear it all away.

but the infection was also her escape.

deepnest is only so big, and doubtless the pale king wouldn’t have wanted a spawn of his to be cutting down every bug in her path. without the radiance’s interference, i cannot imagine hornet becoming half as good a fighter as she is in canon; likewise, it is with the same logic that we can assume that hornet never would have gone to pharloom unless the pale king was out of the picture.

now, yqy isn't stupid, much less oblivious. one cannot be the leader of the most powerful sect in the would if they cannot connect the dots.

so, obviously, lbh instantly stands out to him in two ways upon their meeting. the first one: lbh is incredibly alike his xiao jiu.

they both come from the lowest of backgrounds- one a slave, the other an orphan adopted by a servant. they both managed to claw their way to better circumstances, through sheer will and grit. and, most relevantly, they are both inherently geniuses- just like how sj managed to salvage his wrecked cultivation enough to join the peaks in a matter of months, lbh is flourishing under his meagre tutelage, surpassing shijies and shixiongs who get twice as much attention as him.

this is not an issue on its own; under any other circumstances, in fact, this would be amazing news! the cang qiong mountains are always in need of new blood and talent, and having two extremely successful cultivators of common beginnings would only help break the stigma surrounding non-nobles learning cultivation.

no, the issue lays with the second thing that shines out about lbh, and it stems from the fact that sj also notices their shared traits. of course he would- he would not have earned the role of cang qiong's master strategist if they had passed him by.

and instead of trying to help this star disciple, to be a better master than his own, sj has decided to try and ruin lbh's life.

yqy knows that sj is making a mistake, and it kills him that he can't help his shidi. their relationship is already strained as it is, and confronting sj about his ill-advised behavior may very well be the thing that breaks it. if it is the wellbeing of one child versus yqy being able to see sj, to know that he is okay and that he isn't dead, he is out of that manor he is with you he isn't dead he isn't dead-

well. that poor child will have to suck it up.

still, he regrets not stepping in when lbh is pushed into the abyss and the sect loses a future master of the arts.

still, he regrets not stepping in when lbh returns with fury and hellfire, scorching the sect to the ground and killing innocents as well as his tormentors.

Hornet depriving herself of sleep because of her growing up in Hallownest. Just as pale beings can go without sustenance, they can forsake rest too- or so Hornet believes.

Everyone that she has lost to the infection went to sleep and never woke up- Vespa, the common bugs, and even inadvertently Herrah. Sleep has become so correlated with death that every time she gets tired it causes her a minor panic attack, and only being 50% Wyrm, she is basically running on fumes throughout the entirety of Pharloom.

(When Lace realizes this for the first time, she numbly wonders how fast the spider would have beaten her after a night's rest and a full meal.)

This panic occurs outside of herself as well. While traveling with Lace post-GMS and the Void, she keeps nudging Lace awake right before she drifts off- which was unbearably annoying and caused several fights.

Of course, neither of them touch any of the relevant or underlying issues. They don't properly talk it out for ages.

My Ideas and Headcanons About Moonfaith Thus Far!

Once again, you're welcome Cradle fandom >:3

(Psst: if you haven't read the Cradle series- which you absolutely should!- and are confused about titles and names, scroll to the bottom for a guide!)

---

Redmoon is the only person left who remembers Red Faith's real name.

This beauty was spawned when I was wondering how exactly the world looks from the point of view of a non-humanoid/still conjoined Blood Shadow, and reasoned that they more or less are able to read the minds and somewhat inherit the psyche of their host- thus, why they seem to be a 'copy' of the person they're tied to. This is with the caveat that while they appear to be exactly like their host, after the Blood Shadow is separated from them, the Shadow is able to operate without any mental link between them and the person they parasited (iirc, Ruby's memories from her time with Lindon were not transferred over to Yerin, ergo the basis for this theory).

So Redmoon was able to hold onto bits of the past that slipped through even Red Faith's fingers, and keeps them tight to his chest. It is one of the few irritating quirks he has, this unproductive clutch he has on days long past, but he can never seem to let go the memories of times before he had a cult to run. When it was just him and his lookalike, infuriating though the albino may be. Some of the finer aspects elude him, but if ever he lets his mind drift, Red Moon can still feel the fibers of rough sacks beneath his fingers. Smell salt and the tang of iron on the wind in equal parts. And, of course, hear the sweet lilt of Red Faith's first alias out of his sister's lips.

When Redmoon is vanquished, so is the last accounts of how Red Faith came to be. No one mourns the loss, for none were ever let close enough to become curious- and if ever there was someone who was, who cared, they have long fallen silent among the crimson-stained lilies.

2. Red Faith, to his utter mortification, is shorter than Redmoon.

Now, this was never not going to happen. If any of the readers of this piece care enough to view the drawing that caused this crazed rambling, you can check it out here. Yes, I was fujoshi-ing out like it was no one's business- sue a girl for not having hobbies!

Fujo tendencies aside- being the cultivator who pioneered the 'humanize your Blood Shadows' movement, it was expected for there to be some fuckery involved in discovering how, exactly, one was to progress once your red-tinted leech was an entire person. The theory was simple enough, convincing his Blood Shadow of the plan was no hard feat (the gnat immediately shut up when it heard there was a chance to gain more power), and Red Faith had never been a particularly appearance-centered person (his grooming- or lack there of- was enough of a testament to that).

...But. Well. Perhaps he should have given a bit more thought into who was going to ascend how, if Red Faith could have looked like that!

After ascending to Sage, Red Faith had seemed to elongate: his fingers, though always thin, were now spidery, his hair (ever a distraction) now pooled around his bare feet, and he had even gained a scant inch or two in height.

Redmoon? It was now practically a foot taller than its master, with broadened shoulders and a tight, scantly muscled physique, as opposed to Red Faith's decidedly sickly thinness. If Red Faith ever found himself pressed against his creation (though the thought of being that close sends a shiver of revulsion down his spine), he was certain that his frame would be all but swallowed up by his Blood Shadow.

The difference in height truly became something of an issue when the duo found themselves in possession of a cult- one that was divided in support of either one of the blood madra cultivators.

See, Redmoon was now purposefully looming over Red Faith- and curse the parasite, Red Faith knew it was doing it to mock him.

(After all, if their positions were swapped, Red Faith was sure he would do the same.)

The Blood Herald must've forgotten the idea of personal space somewhere along the way, as now it wastes not a single opportunity to shove itself onto Red Faith, no matter how deeply he gorges into its skin or how many times he ducks away. The side of the cult that supports Redmoon appears to have made some sort of betting pool around how fast Red Faith can react, which is not only useless, but it is a stark waste of time and resources. If it could be reasoned with, Red Faith would have had a talking-to with his Blood Shadow, but alas. Even unproductive followers seem to pale in the face of annoying its Sage counterpart.

3. Red Faith is rather oblivious, for someone of his level of genius.

Though he may claim otherwise, the Sage is far from all-knowing about the going-ons of his ship and his cult. Case and point, Redmoon's jealousy of Yerin.

The Blood Sage's glee of finding someone who can match up to his potential is somewhat of an open secret- and the Redmoon Herald is making no moves to mask his ire of the girl.

The emissaries gossip, twice fold when they think their founders aren't listening.

"Our Herald thinks he's being replaced," whispers one particularly bold youth. "Can't you see? For all he acts as though he's a league above the Sage, our Herald is attached beyond measure to that pale thing... but, with how he's acting, I do so wonder what form this attraction takes."

That elicits a round of giggles from those who haven't forgotten how to laugh. A veteran in the crowd, known for being a killjoy, steps up with a scowl.

"Have you forgotten your shame? Can you no longer differentiate libido from bloodlust? That Herald wants to rip this young lady apart just to lord over our Sage, not to satiate any wicked desire!"

Side-glances are exchanged. "I'm not sure it's the Arelius that our Herald wants to rip into..." mutters a newcomer, still unaware of how touchy the subject is, and bewildered when the crowded quarters burst into nervous titters.

Elsewhere, snatched bits of conversation can be heard by those loitering in the break room near the labs. The active researchers murmur rumors of how murderously Redmoon glared at the dark-haired maiden, how Red Faith carried on bickering with his counterpart, seemingly uncaring of how half-heartedly the other responded... or, conversely, how Red Faith didn't seem to notice something was wrong in the first place.

Ah, their beloved Sage. Perhaps one day he'll look up to see the heart he has snagged, ransacked and smeared over his operating table. Maybe it will be before he ascends to Monarch, when his body is no longer entirely his, and his soul is tainted poppy red. Maybe it will haunt him even as a remnant of what he used to be, a half-starved hound stubbornly biting his ankles.

(Those who survived the wreckage of Redmoon Hall, those who didn't go mad with grief or with their Dreadgod's madra, may one day look back on this tragedy and wonder what could have been. If only the two halves of one being had looked at each other and seen a partner to ascend to the heavens with, rather than a foe to eagerly subdue and enslave.)

4. The issue with what makes something human.

Red Faith doesn't see Redmoon as a person. Redmoon is simply an 'it', and will remain so forever and always.

Redmoon doesn't see Red Faith as a human. Red Faith is something to be coveted, to be envious of, to yearn after, to hate with all his heart, to want in every way possible and in every twisted definition of the word. Not something to empathize with, and certainly not someone to take off of a pedestal.

The issue arises when Red Faith lowers his guard the slightest bit and sees himself in Redmoon.

The issue arises when Redmoon watches Red Faith stumble and succumb, as opposed to the entity who would face any obstacle with curiosity and an all-encompassing, nebulous desire for victory.

The issue was always there. Redmoon couldn't be put into a box- this is a tool, this is a rival, this is a shallow copy.

The issue was always there. Red Faith wasn't a force to be defined- this is a savior, this is a thing to consume, this is someone to long after.

They never could have survived and still have been themselves. That is why Red Faith projects onto and wants to understand Yerin with unmatched fervor- what, exactly, was the thing that made her different? That made her better? And that is why Redmoon acted himself up so much when it never really made sense for his character- they were never going to succeed, so why even try to maintain an image that doesn't suit him?

Though it pains me, they were doomed from the moment they started.

5. Red Faith is so kitty.

'Nuff said.

TBC! Do you want a part two for this or should I just update as inspiration strikes?

---

Glossary and further explanation (contains major spoilers for those who have not finished Dreadgod and Reaper!):

Red Faith/The Sage of Red Faith/The Blood Sage- the official title for the man who runs the Redmoon Hall. The oldest Sage currently alive on Cradle, with an obsessive streak for his research and a penchant to chew on his own limbs.

Redmoon/The Redmoon Herald/The Blood Herald- what the Sage of Red Faith's Blood Shadow calls himself. The first Blood Shadow to take on a human form, after Red Faith fed his own madra and blood to the still-formless parasite.

Yerin Arelius- one of the protagonists in Cradle. Had a Blood Shadow of her own, and is the first person on Cradle to merge with it to advance faster, which was Red Faith's original goal with Redmoon.

Redmoon Hall- the cult that follows a Dreadgod called 'the Bleeding Phoenix'. Not named after the Herald; he likely chose his name to be contrary and to feed his own ego. Its vassals have been consumed by their Blood Shadow, and its emissaries are able to control their parasites.

Madra- magic, but different. Kinda like qi, but with more rules.

Sages- one of the two choices you get when ascending from Archlord. In a nutshell, the 'smarter' one.

Heralds- the second choice you get when ascending from Archlord. In a nutshell, the 'stronger' one.

Monarchs- the thing after Sage and Herald.

Blood Shadows- tiny pieces of the Bleeding Phoenix that attach themselves to humans. Only the strongest people can avoid having the life sucked out of them, and only the stronger yet can harness them. Red Faith was a pioneer in the research of them, back in his youth.

Shen Yuan had flown back in quite the tizzy to his awaiting brother, who, being an utter sweetheart, helped comfort his distressed didi before helping him get away from whatever the threat was. They had been making good time before, anyways, and so there wouldn't be any issues in finding another nest site nearby. (Everyone, say thank you, Jiu-ge!)

So of course, the only logical thing to happen next was for Shen Yuan and a worried a-Jiu to immediately be accosted by a gaggle of Bai Zhan brats who thought that their master would appreciate two pretty birds as a gift. Because of course the kids happened to pass by Luo Binghe's childhood town on the way back from a night hunt.

(Shen Yuan was half convinced this was the due he had to pay for what he said about PIDW in various forums, which. Not his fault, hello??? Half of those things were written from the hospital bed, is he going to get karma'd for shit that went down when he was on so many meds he could give an addict a run for their money?)

And whoever says that birds can't smell are fucking lying- Shen Yuan knows exactly who has not showered for at least two weeks, if not more.

The march up to the Cang Qiong sect is embarrassing, uncomfortable, and gives Shen Yuan more information about the hygienics of teenagers than he ever wanted to know, but he will begrudgingly admit it also gives Shen Yuan a chance to come to terms with the fact that he is inside the series that debatably ended his life. And that he had lived practically next to the protagonist for months, and apparently never knew? Ah, but for all the good some reflection did, it won't get him out of these awful, itchy ropes! And who knows what these cultivator sickos will do to his poor, innocent, demon self!

So there's all the more reason to wring Airplane's name out like it owes him money- especially since Shen Yuan could recall multiple wives fluttering around feathered fans to entice the protagonist into their beds. If even a single pinfeather was pulled from his magnificent body, it'll be on Airplane's bill!!

When the company arrives at the sect, Shen Yuan metaphorically crosses his fingers and hopes that whoever the currently alive Liu Qingge turns out to be doesn't kill (mostly) harmless demons for sport... only to be stopped by a tall, jade-robed man who looks like he could bite someone. All Shen Yuan could make out from him was something along the lines of "'Xiao-Jiu..." and "what a joke" before a fan is brandished like a sword at the Bai Zhan brats.

"Is this Peak Lord seeing correctly what is before him? Does that brute care so little about the sect's rules that he can't even impart them upon his disciples? If you cannot even vet your monsters before bringing them upon sect grounds, you cannot blame anyone but yourself when they are taken from you for inspection!"

There was a great deal of thwacking (and kids being sent to the discipline block) before Shen Yuan found himself tucked beneath the arm of Sir Green, who was already on his sword and speeding off towards what was presumably his peak. A horrible ache echoed through Shen Yuan's body at the sight of it, but he just passed it off for the light starvation he had suffered on the march up.

That was, until, the Peak Lord delicately leaped off his sword in front of a terribly familiar bamboo cottage.

And surely it was the fault of a seasoned cultivator for leaving a demon mostly unrestrained? Aiya, the lesser ones are closer to animals than they are sentient creatures- how could you expect them to not attack when afraid?

Sorry for this unpleasant sight, a-Jiu, but this Yuan-di doesn't plan on becoming jiaozi for the Demon Emperor!

...So yes. Maybe it was a poor idea to try and poke out the eye of Shen Qingqiu himself, but Shen Yuan never claimed to think straight when panicking. In full honesty, he thought he could get at least draw a bit of blood, but alas. For a weaselly, skinny man, the scum villain packs quite the spiritual punch.

When Shen Yuan comes to, he is nestled on an impressive amount of silk pillows and snuggled up next to a content a-Jiu. Shen Qingqiu is playing the guqin, with a sickening smile plastered on his face.

Shen Yuan wishes he still had the anatomy to gag, and has to settle for ripping the expensive throws with his talons.

The first week of the three's (nonconsensual) cohabitation is rough on every party involved. So is the first month, and eventually, the first year.

For whatever goddamned reason, the scum villain has taken a liking to Shen Yuan and his Jiu-gege, and has decided to display said liking by tying an irremovable talisman to Shen Yuan's leg, so that if he ever leaves the half-mile radius around the cottage he will be shocked. Repeatedly. With what feels like 500 joules.

(Never has Shen Yuan felt more sympathy for dogs with electric collars.)

A-Jiu doesn't have a talisman because he is as chummy with Shen Qingqiu as can be (a fact that never fails to make Shen Yuan want to spit blood). He sits still whenever the scum villain gets the sudden, unquenchable urge to paint one of the feathered brothers- Shen Yuan always manages to disappear whenever the watercolor palate makes an appearance. He allows his neck to be stroked when he doesn't even allow his didi to preen it. Shen Yuan is certain that he's seen his brother depart with the Qing Jing master for a Night Hunt.

All while Shen Yuan has made it his current life's mission to make sure the scum villain is aware of his displeasure: at his captivity, at a-Jiu's stolen affections, at Shen Qingqiu's resolute stubbornness as refusing to take Shen Yuan's hints that he's not entirely demon. That there's a person inside his avian frame.

So Shen Yuan does the only useful thing that he can do in his situation: he peruses through the cottage's personal library and studies how to cultivate a human form.

It's rather simple in theory- all that's required is a strong spiritual base and a clear visualization of the body he wants. In practice, however...

Well. The visualization is easy- he spent two decades in a human's body, and he's sure that he could picture his wanted body with minimal inaccuracies. The spiritual energy is the issue. Not only does he not know how to cultivate, but Shen Yuan doesn't know how to cultivate in the body of a demon crane. Whoever writes the manuals that litter the floor of the scum villain's cottage should be more inclusive, ah!

But then, in an outstanding moment of brilliancy, it comes to Shen Yuan: he's a demon, so he must have some sort of energy stored up! Be it spiritual or demonic, it doesn't matter; it's all the same stuff, isn't it?

So he sequesters himself away in the unused side room of the cottage whilst a-Jiu and the scum villain are both conveniently out chasing some random beast, plops into his best approximation of a lotus position, and begins to cycle his inner energy. Whatever that means.

It's frustrating, tiring, and difficult, but Shen Yuan's mental image is clear: he will be a tall, well-built man with broad shoulders and a smile that could charm even the coldest of hearts! (Shen Yuan pointedly ignores that this body is reflected off of a certain emperor-to-be.) When Shen Qingqiu returns to his home, he'll have no choice to release him and a-Jiu! Then Shen Yuan can poof back into his bird form and fly away happily with a-Jiu and never have to worry about protagonists or cultivators or harems ever again.

And it works! Shen Yuan feels something click within him, and suddenly he has arms, and fingers, and a bipedal figure! Nevermind that he's so drained that he can hardly stand and that his body feels so heavy that he has to drag himself out of the room- this must be normal for the first shift. If he bounces back and forth between forms, soon it'll be as easy as breathing for him!

So he enters the scum villain's washroom, intent on admiring his new appearance as the peak of masculinity. It'll show his a-Jiu- maybe Shen Yuan can get him to call him Yuan-ge! Hah!

But then Shen Yuan catches a glimpse of what his reflection looks like. He does a double-take, then a triple-take, and almost physically feels the dread sink into him.

No.

No, no no!

Shen Yuan is a tiny, scrawny, pale waif who looks more suited for being shoved in lockers than bartering with Peak Lords for freedom. His dark, doe-like eyes are sweeter than the ones of the female leads that his meimei used to swoon over, his hair is down to his knees and is as glossy as a butterfly's wing, and his lips are so red it looks like he's been sucking on a cherry! What is this- he's not some twink, ah!

Or... he didn't mean to look like one. It is with morbid fascination than Shen Yuan eyes his waist- he's sure that women back in the day would corset themselves in hopes of achieving an approximation of it. God, he looks more feminine than some of the tomboyish girls in anime do.

And the wings. Oh, the fucking wings.

No wonder his back is so sore- he would be more surprised if it wasn't, lugging around his old pair on such a frail frame, now sized up and sprouting from his shoulder blades. What was he thinking, demon and spiritual energy are the same? Of course not, even Airplane wouldn't stoop to such shameless stretches of logic!

Before Shen Yuan can examine some more intimate parts of his new physique, he hears the heart-stopping sound of the cottage door opening.

Turn back! Turn back, abort, abort!

But even as Shen Yuan cycled his energy as hard as he could, he couldn't regain his feathery visage. His metaphorical jug of demonic energy was empty, and thus left him to face the appalled judgement of Shen Qingqiu, buck naked.

...It would have been funny, how comically wide the scum villain's eyes were, in any other situation. Right now, Shen Yuan wanted a divine strike of lightning to smite him where he stood.

"Hi," he tried, wincing at how rough his voice was. Even if he was about to face the wrath of Xiu Ya, he wasn't going to die again if he hadn't given it his all, goddammit! "I'm Shen Yuan. Please don't kill me?"

----

So when he died, he didn't panic upon realizing he was in a place that most definitely was not his crusty, food-covered desk. In fact, this new place was rather comfy, with soft materials on all sides of him and a lovely warmth. This is a safe place, he's sure- one of the worlds that would allow him a nice, easy existence.

And so of course he nearly falls out of the tree when he opens his eyes and sees that he's in a nest. The ones birds live in.

Only after he passes out again when an entire fucking crane starts jabbing at his feathers(?) does he realize that the path to getting his easy life wouldn't be as linear as he thought.

So, Shen Yuan was a bird now. A full on nine-kilogram red-crowned crane who apparently is vibing with his brother (even though he thought cranes didn't stick with family past maturity?), and is very much, no doubt, without a second thought, demonic.

The revelation came in between transmigrating and his brother realizing that Shen Yuan had forgotten how to function, and around the same time that Shen Yuan saw his brother fully unhinge his jaw like a snake and pierce through a carp about three times his size with a sword-like tongue. That may or may not have been the cause of another full-on panic attack, but Shen Yuan would prefer to keep his silence.

Though life as an entire different species wasn't exactly Shen Yuan's brand of fun, he would be lying if he said it wasn't fascinating. He was able to answer age-old questions such as if animals talk to each other (they do, but he's only been able to make a-Jiu do it once), if pets love their owners (debatable- Shen Yuan isn't sure if the raccoon dog downstairs in their willow misses her human family or free meals, but she's certainly heartbroken about one of them), and if animals can feel emotions (his multiple breakdowns can speak to that). It was honestly insanely fun to learn how to fly, even if it caused a great deal of concern to a-Jiu that his yearling sibling had the air-sense of a hatchling, and being in a body that isn't actively decomposing was a sweet change.

Wintertime is beyond anything he's seen or read about, especially with the magical intrigue. The moon illuminates packs snowy dove-winged foxes as they dive through the snow, blue-tinted owls turn the sky into their own personal stage, and the fish. They come in every single color and size and shape, with schools of jewel-toned minnows and actual goldfish sharing the same stream as massive, shark-like salmon. Shen Yuan and a-Jiu's shared nest is perched perfectly over the crystalline rapids, and provide the perfect training ground for him to learn how to hunt. (Though, with every new species he comes across, the more they seem familiar.)

But then spring comes, and the snow melts, flooding the marshland. A tree bigger than some skyscrapers Shen Yuan's seen is knocked loose by a mudslide and comes down over their river. No fish can swim past, and Shen Yuan and a-Jiu are forced to leave.

There are a few possible locations that they could move to in the area, but Shen Yuan drags his brother to the one near a human village despite excessive complaints from his counterpart. Though his reservations about his current body have been more or less dispelled, Shen Yuan still has the mind of a human, and he hadn't read a book in four months. Even if it's just a shitty magazine, or hell, even a flyer for a grocery store, he'll consume it like it's the delicious wolf-eared sturgeon that a-Jiu once took down.

But it's not a zine he finds. Not a flyer, nor a license plate, nor a t-shirt logo, nor a tattoo, nor even a spoken word.

It's a sign for some crappy equipment store, and yet it seems to be the highest-quality building in the entire village, save for some randomly gaudy, old-fashioned mansion.

...It's written in traditional script.

Now that Shen Yuan takes a look around the shabby village again, some things click into place, and each one feels like a blow to his head. The vendors he thought were in touristy peasant get-up seem to be genuinely wearing work-appropriate clothing. The architecture isn't just some tourist trap, the homes and stores were too lived-in to be fake. And the mansion he had taken to be a refurbished hotel, or a museum? Bona-fide servants shuffled in and out, each with their head bowed. And to top it off, there was some dude in pastel robes actually stomping on someone into the frost-covered mud.

That last bit is what really snapped Shen Yuan- so what if he might be in an entire different era? His impending panic could wait- whenever this was, even if keeping people as slaves was still seen as acceptable, he would not stand to see people abuse their power! So, despite a-Jiu's alarmed squawks, Shen Yuan dives for the pastel jerk beak-first. After he suitably harasses the dipshit with his freaky tongue (which he only now really appreciates) and drives the asshole back into his sparkling walls does he look upon the rando he just helped.

Said rando has an actual halo around him. His bouncy, almost-black curls frame his doll-like, glassy eyes, his skin is nearly white from how pale he is, and his red, bitten (but not injured) lips quiver with what appears to be fear. He's clearly a young child, maybe seven or eight years of age, and even though the kid looks like he's been pulled by his hair across asphalt, he still remains impossibly cute. Like a little bun.

The child blinks up at him with a tentative curiosity, and asks shakily, "Why did the Great Youkai save me?"

Holy shit, thinks Shen Yuan. I just saved Luo-fucking-Binghe.

And then, with no small amount of hissing and cursing that shitty author's name, Shen Yuan takes off into the early-spring sunrise, unbeknownst to his wide-eyed admirer.

---------

Little doodles in lieu of written text because drawing is easier for me <3

When SM breaks out of the Silver Tree, he is the first and only person on Earthbread to go into subdrop.

Now, cut to the Spire, and TR is... confused. It is to be expected that the wielder of Deceit is an enigma, but he can't read SM at all. The small Beast can be as aggressive as an alpha in rut, as versatile as a threatened beta, and as cunning as a feral omega, seemingly at a whim- sometimes multiple at once. Even when SM is close enough that TR should be able to smell him, he can't; it is as though SM is suppressing his dynamic, and normal people can't do that, not without serious repercussions on their health. Not even TR could go more than an hour or two before having to rest, and he hasn't caught a single note of the other's scent the entire time he's been stuck in the Spire. BS and CA hadn't provided any clues about the Beast- SM treats them in a way that doesn't signify much of anything about his identity.

None of the other Beasts have acted in similar ways, according to the Ancient's accounts, which spell some alarming signs for his other half's wellbeing- but TR can't afford to worry about SM. Not now, when he needs to keep the pups safe.

Cue PV's ascension, and the discovery that whatever's happened to his other half is actively putting him in danger. The curtains have been pulled, the shoe has dropped, and yet while PV expected SM to lose it, to curse him and his name, to at least be upset, SM was... silent. Blank faced. Perfectly still. When PV tries to touch SM, to make sure that the usually explosive Beast hadn't somehow hurt himself, SM collapses.