OtherBodies



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    “If the body can’t warm up, then things get uh, b-bad?”

     

    Mobei-jun cuts him a look that’s made for slaughter. “What does that mean?”

     

    “A-ah, it’s called hypothermia, my king.”

     

    “And you die once it happens.”

     

    Again, not a question. “You can.” When Mobei-jun makes an absolutely terrifying face, Shang Qinghua hastens to add, “But not instantly! Y-you can actually recover from it, if the hypothermia doesn’t progress too far.”

     

    “How far?” Mobei-jun growls.

     

    “There are f-f-f-five stages,” Shang Qinghua shivers out, lips numb. “The fifth stage is death.”

     

    -

    Shang Qinghua and Mobei-jun have their spiritual powers sealed before getting dumped in a white-out snowstorm. Mobei-jun quickly learns that humans are far more susceptible to the cold than he thought.

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    20 Feb 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    This for me is the story that revealed the soul of Shang Qinghua. Who is trying so hard, all of the time. Living in a world of his own creation as a mere dogbody and faithless faker. This icon of imposter syndrome. Working so hard and never feeling like it's enough to earn others' respect or regard. Always overlooked, forgotten, or even pushed out. Never special or valued. Playing a minor, lambast-worthy character in a world of heroes of his own creation. The opposite of heroic. The Rincewind of Xianxia.

  2. Public Bookmark 37

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    “You weren’t supposed to wake up,” Shen Jiu bitterly mutters. “I just need a place to sleep for tonight, and this place was convenient. Don’t make me regret it.” 

    After a beat of hesitation, Yue Qingyuan silently nods, not knowing whether the order to stay quiet still applies or not. Shen Jiu’s argument makes no sense, of course. The Head Disciple’s private residence all the way over on Qiong Ding cannot possibly be convenient for him, and-- and to be willing to share a bed with Yue Qingyuan-- 

    “Should I leave?” he whispers. 

    Shen Jiu tenses. 

    “Nevermind,” Yue Qingyuan quickly amends himself. “Sorry, forget I said anything.” 

    -

    Shen Jiu experiences a moment of weakness, and Yue Qingyuan tries not to make him regret it.

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    16 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 25

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    Mobei Jun is trying to say something to Shang Qinghua--something he himself has only begun to understand. Unfortunately, though Qinghua sees the same crag-jawed puffins he does, he doesn't seem to understand what Mobei Jun is saying.

    In which Mobei Jun tries to tell Shang Qinghua that some predators mate for life, and Shang Qinghua wants to know why they're standing in the cold looking at birds.


    Written for an anonymous prompt in SVSSS Gotcha for Gaza!

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    16 Feb 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 1

    This work isn't hosted on the Archive so this blurb might not be complete or accurate.

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    (M/f D/s)

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    08 Feb 2026

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    This author creates very specific sensual moods within short fiction. I returned to this story recently because of the character of the master silver polisher. How quiet, watchful, effective he is. Earthy and powerful, without any psychological manipulation. Because: "This is not a game."

    This character is so different from Doms who revel in the power dynamics. And this story, with its rebellious academic protagonist and her resume of past lovers, is a rejection of the relationships based on the mind or heart alone---fertile ground for manipulation. Moreover, although this story dwells primarily on the non-verbal, it does so without use of hierarchical props or physical violence.

    The author has brought our protagonist into a safe, quiet place to explore just being. It's a meditation on growth. Taking care of yourself when you know you need something. Learning from someone who has much to teach. ❤️

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    There is not a lot that can be denied to Mobei Jun. It seems to be cemented by the way that Shang Qinghua falls into bed with him. Yet it seems that while Shang Qinghua will willingly give up his body, Mobei Jun will never hold his heart.

    Mobei Jun gets drunk off the other man’s body, sinks into it, revels in it and unspools as much pleasure as possible between them. Yet, when he grazes his teeth over the small patch of skin where he could leave his mark, Shang Qinghua always rebuffs him with a nervous laugh.

    “My king,” Shang Qinghua exhales, breath hot against Mobei Jun’s lips. “It really wouldn’t be proper to do that to a servant.”

    Mobei Jun does not care, but he can sense the layered meaning— Shang Qinghua does not want Mobei Jun to do it to him, does not want to push the physical gratification over the edge into something more.

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    27 Jan 2026