REPAY.

bunch of big scawwy pokemon...and lucario. the last pkmn is corviknight....... yes i know it was just revealed today but its so. fitting.

most have bad, short tempers when provoked, but are otherwise very obedient and loyal. they listen to lqg and lmy only, but have leeway with yqy (and sqq, if he gives them treats)

tyranitar is a particularly protective mom and shows affection by nibbling on people she likes (it hurts tho). careful if you get on her good side, careful if you get on her bad side 

lucario’s the chill kid compared to the rest, but he’s always down to fight...he’s the one most often seen outside of his pokeball and walking about w/ lqg. lqg gave this lucario’s egg to yang yixuan, so now he has a hyper little riolu. all 4 of them do the “standing while crossing their arms and frowning” pose, even at the same time, it’s funny 

corviknight is very used to sqq riding on it too by now, but otherwise never lets anyone touch him. very pompous

he’s a simple guy; if you don’t mess with him, he won’t mess with you. that’s why it took him a while, but he accepted “shen qingqiu”’s personality change, going from someone he’d have to guard his back from to someone he’d die for. he’s seen and experienced that type of change firsthand from the person he least expected it from. there’s no way he doesn’t believe it can happen. 

            Did he expect a word of thanks? A grateful smile and a cup of his hands, lowering his back into a respectful bow? You’ve done Cang Qiong Mountain Sect a great favour, we are in your debt? 

            Don’t take him for a fool. 

            He remembers a young Luo Binghe, hair clumsily tied up with a broken ribbon, strands of hair curling down his eyes. Still, he never once stopped digging, fingers muddied and clothes ripped open at the knees, and where his hair obscured his face, Liu Qingge had seen the resolve in his gaze. Coming across people like him was rare, an innate talent waiting to be guided into something no one had seen before. Liu Qingge had seen his potential with a look alone, and though he didn’t take him into Bai Zhan Peak, he vowed to keep an eye on him, if only to see the kind of person he’d become with his power. He had been looking forward to it.

            Under Shen Qingqiu’s tutelage–the one with the soft eyes and laughter that felt like peace–, he should have become as honourable as he was outstanding. He shouldn’t have turned his back to their sect, stab his teacher in the back, terrorized the cultivation world with a swing of his demonic sword.

            But he had cared about Shen Qingqiu, that much Liu Qingge was sure of. His crimes, his carefully woven plans – Liu Qingge could understand them, maybe, if they had been done for Shen Qingqiu’s sake. It’s why he wanted to make Luo Binghe pay for all of them himself, to clash swords with him until he submitted to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect’s–his–retribution. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to get to him first until he made him kneel and repent.

            It wasn’t the case with this one. 

            A bloodied blade that reeks of gore and a grin that stretched with gut-wrenching satisfaction, a mockery of concern seeps through teeth ready to devour him whole. Liu Qingge has no other feelings for him than hate, and a sinking sensation of dread that makes the tip of his fingers grow cold. A moment of weakness tugs at him, and for a moment, all he can see is the determined face of a young, earnest boy with endless potential, cheeks browned with dirt from hours of digging. 

            …He’s not wrong, but what’s left of Liu Qingge’s stubborn pride itches to say no, to turn away and leave Shen Qingqiu to fall — he’s a respected Peak Lord, saving himself from something as mundane as this should be no arduous task, and whatever disgraceful injury he’d get out of it would be well-deserved. Maybe it’ll teach him to stop using Cheng Luan like a personal transport and Liu Qingge as his coachman, ready at his beck and call like he had nothing better to do than to eagerly wait for Shen Qingqiu to call his name.

            —— But he does want to. He wants to catch him, wants to be the person Shen Qingqiu counts on to hold him before he collapses, to be the rooted pillar he can lean on and rest assured won’t let him stumble again. He wants to be Shen Qingqiu’s stalwart to prevent every one of his falls, and be his bolster if he does slip. 

The gentle fall of weight on his shoulder should have alarmed him more than it did; even so, Liu Qingge’s fingers are shocked into stillness, stuttering down the blade of Cheng Luan, polishing rag slipping out of their grasp. It is foreign warmth against the fabric of his clothes, warmth he’s more familiar with feeling when standing by his side rather than pressing into him, and he’s unsure of what to do other than not move. He feels oddly heated, despite the clouds lessening the glare of sunlight. 

There’s a book flipped open and forgotten atop a carefully folded lap, scholarly green robes askew with the fresh winds of Qing Jing Peak. Playful strands of dark hair, too, drape over Liu Qingge’s shoulder, claiming the space Shen Qingqiu’s face doesn’t touch. Their idle conversation had died long ago, hadn’t been needed when they were content enough to simply sit in each other’s company, but though Liu Qingge had noticed the moment his shixiong had stopped the soft sounds of contemplation as he read, he hadn’t imagined it was because he had fallen asleep. On him, no less  —  was it comfortable? Was his shoulder not too hard? For a moment, he thinks about simply pushing him off, but ultimately decides he doesn’t want to hear him scolding him about it. 

Besides, it’s not...unbearable. Just a couple more minutes won’t matter much. 

Liu Qingge frowns down at him, but its exasperation is softened by a fondness he’ll later deny, and gently shifts their position so the man’s head rested more naturally. He sets Cheng Luan down and closes his eyes, too.  

            '  Fight, right now.  ’

To anyone else, fighting during the time the disciples were meant to relax and eat after a strenuous morning of hard work would be appalling; Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, after all, prioritised goodwill and harmony between peaks and often encouraged their students, their head disciples even more so, to coexist peacefully during mealtimes. 

...But Liu Qingge isn’t anyone else, and the founding peak lords most likely did not have challenging someone to a fight for no real reason in mind as a bonding activity. It’s not like him to go out his way to pick a fight with one person either, always one to take on the masses, thinking the more people he fought at once the more chances he’d get to test his skills -- but something about this person makes his blood boil, and it’s not the anger he’s so familiar to feeling, like an itch that burns. He can’t tell what it is, and it irritates him.