Aegoliusacadicus



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    But everything before the conference, he remembered perfectly well! He knew that he was the lord of Qing Jing Peak—though he couldn’t quite recall his discipleship or being appointed peak lord. He knew each and every one of the disciples he was master to, even if he struggled to remember small details like actually selecting them and bringing them onto the peak. He knew that he used to be a rather strict and harsh master—especially so with Luo Binghe—before he eased up and gradually became a bit more like the teacher he was nowadays. Even though he…couldn’t really remember…why he was so harsh…

    Okay, so maybe Shen Qingqiu didn’t remember as much as he thought he did.

    On the anniversary of the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Qingqiu forgets.

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    05 Dec 2025

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    Luo Binghe didn't know how long he had spent bent over Shizun's body in Jue Di Gorge before his martial uncles found them. An eternity, perhaps, or no time at all. It had been long enough for the terrifyingly strong ice demon to vanish into a portal. It had been long enough for him to wrench himself under control, a single shuddering breath at a time. It had been long enough for Meng Mo to help him temporarily re-seal the sigil on his forehead that would betray his demonic heritage. It had, worst of all, been long enough for Shizun's body to begin to chill, even as it was held in Binghe's arms.

    * * *

    Shen Qingqiu makes a different choice: he dies instead of pushing his disciple into the Endless Abyss.

    No one is happy about this.

    * * *

    This fic is fully written and edited and will be posted weekly on Friday for seven weeks. There will be art in a later part!

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    08 Nov 2025

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    Shang Qinghua, also known as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, stared flatly at what had once been a field boasting near sect-level Feng Shui alignment, and the drowned, bloated remains of the Sun and Moon Dew Flower cuttings that had sprouted within it. Their plan was now quite literally a wash.

    If only he could consult Cucumber Bro on how to save Cucumber Bro! But in the absence of Cucumber Bro, he could but rely on the one plot coupon the infamous Peerless Cucumber had ever applauded.

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    08 May 2024

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    "Look, the whole of London's cracking up," she told him. "I'm finding it hard enough to work as it is without my commute being screwed up by the buses going on strike, and half my books turning into birds. That angel is wrecking everything, but in particular, my life - and you're too busy hating yourself to open your eyes and deal with it. I'm telling you, it has to stop."

    "Is that all still happening?" Crowley said vaguely. "But I found him."

    "Oh my God, you can tell you don't commute," Anathema said. "The buses went on strike, Mr. Crowley."

    "That's perfectly normal for London. You'll learn."

    "You're not listening! Not the drivers, the buses. They're organising - meeting in secret, holding little candlelight vigils. Nobody else really knows what's going on - everyone's just assuming it's, like, general TfL incompetence or something - but it's only a matter of time. So what are you going to do about it?"

    "Er... have they submitted a list of their demands?" Crowley said helplessly.

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    22 Nov 2023

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    Now, of course, he has a whole palace full of things. Swords, jewelry, silks— artifacts to entrance the eye and ensnare the mind. He could have it full of women too, if he wished, or so Meng Mo and Sha Hualing continually inform him. A simple chest full of cheap things really should not move him as it does. But he hasn’t quite excised his nostalgic nature, has he? Else he would not be standing here, wearing someone else's skin, hoping for crumbs of affection he once enjoyed in spades.

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    02 Mar 2023