Chapter Text
AU notes: you’ll be able to tell I’m American from the setting and tone of the fic, but aside from that I’m actually not even catholic, either. So. Just sit back, enjoy the ride, and don’t think too hard about anything, please and thanks~
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Shen Qinqiu had spent his entire life running away from demons.
His family had been devout in their worship of the underworld, even going so far as to offer up their son’s immortal soul. Fortunately for Shen Qingqiu, one could not trade a soul that didn’t belong to them. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean the demons couldn’t TRY, and he’d been plagued with dreams of demons taking human form to offer him temptations since he was about fourteen years old. Honestly, with his family history, he was just impressed they had taken that long to come for him.
He endured it for four years under his parents, turning down offers of wealth and fame and true love on a nightly basis until he could make his escape, even going so far as to change his name to hide from his parents. And where did he run? To Catholicism.
A few odd jobs, a few years of schooling, a few years of devout worship to a deity he assumed must exist because there could be no true evil without true good to balance it out and he’d argued with true evil on a near-nightly basis for years. It wasn’t an easy journey, but the further he fell into his faith the less frequently the demons appeared to him, and from that alone Shen Qingqiu knew he was on the right path.
Eventually, after being a Good Boy for more than half a decade, the church saw fit to grant him his own parish. He earned the title of priest, the title of Father, and oversaw his congregation with loving attention that earned him the trust of the community he served.
And eventually, Shen Qingqiu found peace. The demons still visited him, but they were easier to banish from his dreams than ever before, and he found himself sleeping comfortably for the first time in his life.
Which was probably a mistake, honestly. Years of serving his community in a routine, years of dreaming without demons plaguing him, and Shen Qingqiu grew soft enough to let a chink into his armor.
And that’s when the latest demon slipped through.
Shen Qingqiu knew he was dreaming immediately. The dream found him sitting in a garden, neatly designed with a sandy floor and perfectly placed flowers. He was sitting at a low table, with steaming tea in front of him, and he almost took an unthinking sip before he realized that was probably a bad idea and set the cup back down.
He took a moment to enjoy the scenery. The sky was dark, but there were lanterns lit all around the garden to give him plenty of light, and he sat on the ground in a beautiful garden and looked up at the stars he couldn’t watch from the city he now lived in.
It took a while for the demon to appear.
He was handsome, for sure. Most of the demons had been attractive in some shape or form, but this new one was… different. The other demons had all made themselves look unassuming, non-threatening. Occasionally even meek, some of them appearing as children or the elderly.
The one who appeared to sit at the other side of the table from him now was nothing like that. He was tall and broad, with long curls of wild black hair and sharp eyes that even in the light of lanterns glowed a deep red. There was an air of authority about him, an aura of sheer power, lounging comfortably in black robes the type of which Shen Qingqiu hadn’t seen since he’d fled China.
Interesting. Shen Qingqiu said nothing, of course, refusing to make the first move in whatever game the demon before him wanted to play. The demon only smiled pleasantly - a devastatingly handsome smile, Shen Qingqiu noted uncomfortably, and took the second teacup in hand to take a slow sip of it.
They sat in silence for a while.
“Aren’t you going to drink anything?” The demon said eventually, his own cup now empty.
Shen Qingqiu pulled a fan out of the aether, using it to delicately hide his face from view - a trick he’d learned long ago that dismayed anyone trying to negotiate with him. “I hardly think that’s a good idea. I don’t accept gifts from demons, you know.”
The demon laughed. “A wise standpoint. But I assure you, I'm not trying to take anything from you in return.” He smirked. “Well. Nothing you aren’t offering, anyway.”
Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not take my chances.”
“Your loss,” the demon said simply. “The tea is really quite delicious.”
And, almost as if to insult him, the demon poured himself another cup of tea from the pot. Shen Qingqiu took his own cup in hand, not to drink, but just out of curiosity - most of his dreams were foggy and vague, even with demons controlling him. To have this dream be so vivid he could smell the strong spiced tea, inhale the steam into his lungs, to feel the warmth from the hot tea transfer into his hands where he held the cup… It was all truly remarkable. Whoever this demon was, he must have a lot of power, to manifest a scene like this so casually.
“So,” the demon started eventually. “It seems like you’ve been on the radar for years, but this will be the first time we’ve met. You’re Shen Yuan, right?”
“Shen Qingqiu,” he corrected automatically, eyes narrowed. He knew a name held power, but a false name like the one he'd chosen wouldn’t have the same hold on him when spoken aloud that his birth name would.
“Fair enough,” the demon drawled, voice deep and pleasant. “I am Luo Binghe. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shen Qingqiu.”
Now that was a new one - no demon he’d met had ever offered their own name in return for his. It wasn’t a name he recognized from literature, but none of his religious texts had actually covered Chinese demons, which might have perhaps been an oversight. He’d studied them on his own before he left for America of course, but even in Chinese texts he’d never heard the name before.
“And what is it that’s caused your visit today, Luo Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu inquired, interested in this new adversary enough to ask, but keeping his guard solid all the same.
“I was bored,” Luo Binghe said simply. “And some of my court were discussing the anomaly of a soul that had been promised to them since birth, but they’d had yet to figure out how to tempt into damnation. I figured I’d drop in and see what all the fuss is about.”
“There is no fuss,” Shen Qingqiu said calmly. “I simply have non desire to sell myself to demons. My immortal soul is worth more than any earthly pleasures they could offer.”
Luo Binghe laughed. “Well said. But I have to wonder, do you even know what happens to your soul once you’ve handed it over to a demon?”
“I do not,” Shen Qingqiu admitted. “But I’m not stupid enough to find out.”
Lou Binghe’s grin was smooth, somehow filled with fire and ice cold at the same time. “A smart choice. Since it seems like no one was willing to share that information, would you like it if I told you?”
Shen Qingqiu sighed. “In exchange for what?”
“Have a drink of tea with me. It’s safe, and a little bit of hot leaf water won’t bind your soul to my debt, or anything outrageous like that. Just sharing a drink and having a little chat, is all I ask.”
Shen Qingqiu frowned, eyeing the tea. “And why would you want that from me?”
Luo Binghe’s smile was almost charming. “Because I am bored, and you are interesting.”
Shen Qingqiu’s brows furrowed together, but as much as he thought it through he couldn’t find a plausible way a single cup of tea shard in a dream could sell him into damnation. At least, if this were his real body, it might be dangerous to imbibe something from the underworld, but as it was… A dream played by different rules than reality.
“Very well,” he agreed. “I’ll share a conversation with you, and you in turn will tell me what would become of my soul were I to lose it. I’ll make that much of a deal with you, and no more.”
“Sure,” Luo Binghe said easily. And then, didn’t even wait for Shen Qingqiu to take the first sip before he offered his answer. “It’s rather mundane, to be honest. We don’t eat souls, and very rarely do we turn new souls into demons. You’d be… a pet, really. A subordinate servant tied to the demon you sold your soul to, contracted to serve them until they either release you, or die themselves.” He looked bored by the entire idea. “It’s meant as a way to recruit soldiers to fight in territorial battles over domain, but lately there’s been… Something like a peaceful reign in the demon realm. No one dares to fight against the current king, so collecting souls has turned into something of a status symbol for the elite instead of a necessity for survival.”
Shen Qingqiu blinked. That was… a lot more information than he’d expected, and absolutely none of it had been what he’d anticipated. “ Current king? Is there no…”
Luo Binghe grinned. “Satan? Devil Supreme? Ruler of all Hell and King of Damned Souls? No. If there ever was one, he’s long gone now. Now demons are ruled by whoever claims the throne of power for themselves. Nothing matters in that realm but uncontested might.”
That… certainly challenged his religious beliefs. He hadn’t even called it Hell - he’d said the demon realm. Was there a difference? Was that where souls went when they died, or was there another process in place? Maybe even reincarnation could be true, if there wasn’t a proper Hell…
Or maybe everything this demon had told him was a lie, meant for Shen Qingqiu to lower his guard. The demon didn’t seem like a liar, he’d shown what had to be his true face and been very straightforward thus far, but. The church had warned him that demons would do anything to tempt you into damnation. Of course, the church had never had a good explanation for their motivations before now, either…
“This is giving me a headache,” Shen Qingqiu admitted tiredly, and gave up to take a sip of the tea he’d been offered. It was probably a bad idea, but a deal was a deal, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t want to offend his… guest . It was, to no surprise at all, absolutely delicious.
“You have no idea. The politics of it all are pretty honestly a pretty disappointing reality. I like the human idea of fire and brimstone and constant endless torture more. At least torture can’t get boring.”
“I’m sure if you’re doing nothing but torture all day every day it would get quite boring, actually.” Shen Qingqiu disagreed. “For both parties involved. The human ability to endure endless abuse can turn even suffering into something routine and mundane.”
Luo Binghe blinked at him, a little surprised. And then he smiled, handsome and dangerous. “You really are interesting,” he repeats, this time sounding like that was the highest compliment he could award someone. “So if you’re so certain you can endure it, why are you so afraid of it? Damnation, or whatever.”
“Because whatever else the afterlife is, there have to be better options. I’d rather live peacefully and quietly on Earth doing good deeds and not waiting around to see what happens when I die than take a gamble for a better life and lose any chance of future contentment in the process. If there’s a heaven, if there’s ghosts, if there’s reincarnation - any of those possibilities is better than the certainty that I’ve lost my soul forever. It’s not exactly a difficult choice. I’m more surprised that anyone at all takes the bait, really.”
Luo Binghe grinned back at him. “Me too. Although, I have to admit one thing.”
Shen Qingqiu raised a curious eyebrow.
“Being a demon? It’s a lot more fun than anyone advertises. It’s just how long it goes on for that makes you stir crazy and bored.”
“You have fun fighting other demons and making deals for souls to keep as slaves?”
Luo Binghe shrugged. “Not like the Other Half doesn’t do the exact same thing. At least we don’t lie and pretend the afterlife comes with any kind of salvation like they do.”
Shen Qingqiu frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You’d have to ask a heavenly official if you wanted more information. I only know what I know, and nothing more.”
He only knew… what he already knew? “Can’t that be said of everyone?”
“Yes,” Luo Binghe agreed, “It absolutely can.”
If he had any more questions - which he certainly did - they were to go unanswered. Luo Binghe was standing up now, brushing the sand off his robes and sighing, “Ah, we’ve run out of time. Maybe we can chat again some other night, Shen Qingqiu.”
“Perhaps,” was all Shen Qingqiu could reply before the dream started to fuzz around the edges, fading slowly.
The last thing he remembered from his dream was Luo Binghe’s face, smiling devilishly at him. “Until then, Father Shen.”
For the first time since he was fourteen, the demon in his dreams did not cause Shen Qingqiu to wake up in a cold sweat. Instead he woke slowly and comfortably, the tastes of spiced tea still dancing on his tongue.
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