An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
He Xuan thought of a world where temples went untended, unoffered, and untouched. Against his will, he visualized fruit withering in an offering dish, riddled with bugs and rot as the god it was offered to faded into nothing. Perhaps, if he were anywhere else, the thought would evoke righteous joy. Not now. Not with Shi Qingxuan laying before him like an untouched meal.
3.1k words | explicit
beefleaf somno for @/divinesharks on twitter for tgcfaction's gotcha for congo ^_^












