#slender AND offender be this things bitches

[unikron-kitten-kat]

Thinking bout Offenderman and Slenderman. Both being fucked by the same individual, who happens to be a predator of their specie! But they don't know that.. or do they? Either way, they both end up with jelly legs and being fucked stupid so-

It'll chain them both up, same room. Almost back to back if it weren't for the.. Boards? keeping them apart. They'd both probably be crying, 'Framing their prettyyy faces with their pleasure tears~'

Oh, but then it would deny them of a very much needed orgasm, and say it would fuck the first one who came to him due to it becoming too overbearing. (It was slender. He only lasted two days before giving in)

It took him out to a clearing in the forest. Boy oh boy did Slender's pretty voice fill it. God was he fucked in the best fucking way ever. The sex was long, and rough, and my god he needed to be somethings bitch for once. Beast made him orgasm quite a few times before breeding him full.

God did Slender fucking love it. God did Slender absolutely love being fucked like 'The little cock-whore he is'

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Below you will find the character profile for my One Piece OC (one of them, anyway. I have at least five, but I'll be working the most closely with this one for now).

So, here we go. Only been working on this shit for like...three days. Okay, technically over ten years since I used to write her ages ago when I was on fanfiction.net, but I've redone a lot of things.

I'm already in the process of working on a novel-length Mihawk x AFAB!OC fanfic, so here's the overly extensive character sheet for my OC because I always put way too much effort into character development.

The character history practically devolves into a mini fanfic itself around the middle by total accident, but whatever.

The fanfic(s) will toe the line between Live Action and Manga canon. We'll just call it AU and leave it at that.

Karimi Lionne

Associated fanfics: Hearing Problems (coming soon to an Unknowable Horror near you) and Any Way The Wind Blows (eventually, bear with me)

Age: 24

Occupation: Pirate; Mercenary

Abilities:

Kiku Kiku no Mi: A Paramecia type devil fruit that grants the user the ability to hear...well, everything, all the time. Within a certain range she, can hear the thoughts of people around her. The range varies with her focus; standard, it's anyone within a range of about fifty feet in any direction. She can close that circle down to either listen to one person's thoughts, or expand it to search a city or town for a particular person. Activated (which she hasn't yet), it allows the user the ability to plant thoughts in others' heads, and potentially control their thoughts.

She considers the ability more of a curse than a blessing since she has never managed to hone it quite well enough to shut it off entirely, and can often be found sitting at a dock or on a beach with her feet in the salt water, just to get some peace and quiet in her own head.

Blades: Karimi carries a pair of daggers with ornately carved ivory handles, the head of a lioness carved into the top of each hilt, in sheaths at either side of her belt. They belonged to her grandmother, who raised her from age four to age fourteen, and also taught her most of what she knows in combat. She also keeps a handful of throwing knives in a holster belted to her right calf, a couple inches below her knee.

Her fighting style relies primarily on agility, evasion, and accuracy rather than raw strength due to her relatively small stature of 5'2".

Haki: Not a master by any means at all. Learned from Red-Haired Shanks during her brief stint working with his crew, used largely to assist in suppressing her devil fruit abilities and making them more manageable. Not really proficient enough to use it for any other application.

Music: Karimi was taught to play guitar, fiddle, and piano by her grandmother, but she hasn't touched an instrument since her grandmother died, so she doesn't know how much of the ability she has retained. Karimi also learned several sea shanties from her, and often hums or quietly sings them to herself while out to sea.

Appearance:

Faceclaim: Jane Fonda c. 1960s, facial structure, skin and hair edited via Faceapp

Long, dark green hair, in wild curls that she can't do much of anything with except tie back in a bun or stuff under a hat. Sharp emerald green eyes. Fair-skinned with a handful of freckles.

The Resting Bitch Face is strong with this one.

Slender, petite, 5'2" tall.

Tends toward wearing long-sleeved shirts/dresses to cover the scars on her arms. Almost always wears her grandmother's hat, an old and tattered brown leather tricorne with a patch on the front left brim and a few more in the back.

Personality:

Confident, toeing the line of outright arrogance at times. Humor that ranges from dryly sarcastic to quite silly, depending on who she's around. Guarded. Brooding. Cynical. Empathetic. Gentle. Uses sarcasm as a coping mechanism. Not easily offended. Prominent issues with self-harm and PTSD.

Backstory (prior to beginning of fic)

Karimi has next to no knowledge of her origins. She knows her mother died shortly after giving birth to her, that she was born on her father's ship, and that she got her hands on a devil fruit the crew had found and ate it when she was three or four years old, not knowing what it was. Shortly thereafter she was taken to live with her grandmother on a remote island village called Conch Cove, somewhere on the Grand Line.

Her grandmother, Helena Lionne, had been a pirate captain shortly before Gol D. Roger came around and into his earlyyears of piracy, but Karimi didn't know much about her history. Helena was a powerful haki user, and was able to use the power to dampen Karimi's devil fruit abilities, largely for the sake of the girl's own comfort and sanity. Helena trained her to fight in order to defend herself in the event that she ever left the island, as well as survivalist training. She wasn't shy about telling Karimi that the world could be a dangerous place, particularly for a woman on her own, amd wanted to ensure that her granddaughter had everything she needed to safely make her way in the world.

Karimi found out more about her grandmother a week after her fourteenth birthday.

She discovered that her grandmother had been captain of the Siren Pirates. She discovered her grandmother possessed the abilities of the Mizu Mizu no Mi (logia type, water). She discovered that her bounty was in the billions...and still very much active.

The Marine Admiral who showed up to the island, Admiral Jackson "Volcano" Vesper, brought a large crew with him, with no intention of taking Helena alive. His moniker stemmed not only from his explosive temper, but also from his own devil fruit abilities—the predecessor to Fire Fist Ace, he possessed the power of the Mera Mera no Mi (logia type, fire). He also possessed an intense desire for revenge on the woman that had killed his father.

He didn't bother revealing how he managed to track her down—he simply went in guns blazing. The battle between him and Helena, between his crew and what remained of hers, waged for nearly two entire days, leaving several Marines and villagers dead and the town in total ruin. Karimi stayed hidden the entire time as her grandmother had asked her to, but with Helena's haki focused on defending herself and her allies, Karimi could hear everything with her devil fruit abilities.

She could hear the moment when Admiral Vesper's first mate got the drop on her grandmother, pinned her to the ground with the butt of his rifle, which he had coated in a layer of sea stone, instantly sapping her strength and her devil fruit powers.

Karimi could hear Vesper's thoughts, his intentions to humiliate her, kill her, and return to Marineford with her head.

And Karimi emerged from hiding and managed to toss a throwing a knife into the back of his leg.

She was captured almost immediately. Her physical resemblance to her grandmother in the woman's younger years was noted immediately by Vesper, and he knew in that instant that he had won.

And Karimi knew it too, with the man's bowie knife to her throat.

He agreed to let Karimi go in exchange for Helena's life, and Helena gave in without a second thought when she saw the bowie knife start to cut into her granddaughters neck.

He took the remainder of Helena's old crew as prisoners—the only four other villagers on the island left alive, but not before slitting Helena's throat and sawing her head from her neck with his bowie knife, while Karimi was held captive and forced to watch.

Then he and his men left her there on the remote island, in a ruined village with nothing but the corpses of friends and neighbors and the woman who raised her to keep her company.

She doesn't remember much of the following two weeks. She knows she was able to make a spear out of a throwing knife and a shovel handle to catch fish for food in the shallows around the island. That she had a fresh source of water in the form of a pond. She knows she was nearly through building a raft out of the rubble that was left of the town when another marine ship arrived at the island, captained this time by Vice Admiral Garp the Fist. She was understandably beyond wary of Marines, and she fought tooth and nail, kicking and screaming, when they took her back to their ship.

They took her throwing knives and her grandmother's daggers, and she was forced to stay in the brig because she made very clear that she would gladly gut any marine who came near her. She was still treated with kindness and provided full meals given her situation, and as she bided her time and got her strength back she formed a plan of escape.

She was able to use her devil fruit powers effectively in her escape—by listening around and finding the easiest target. This came in the form of a fifteen year old cadet who would check on her and talk to her during his downtime. He thought she was pretty and couldn't believe she had managed to keep herself alive for two and a half weeks after what she had been through, admired her sheer strength of will. It was incredibly easy to sweet-talk him into getting her weapons back to her, playing on his sympathies by telling him that they were all she had left of her grandmother.

She hid them once she had them, and did a little more sweet-talking...until he agreed to steal the keys and get her out of the cell. Once she was out, she wasted no time in knocking him out, stealing his uniform, stuffing her hair under the hat, and discreetly stealing enough rations to last herself a week and slipping away on a dinghy.

She had no idea where she was or how she was going to get anywhere, but she wasn't exactly of sound mind after the trauma she had endured. Her only thoughts at the time were that she wanted to put as much distance between herself and the Marines as possible.

She was picked up by a merchant vessel after a few days, and they took pity on her story and allowed her to remain on board the ship, assisting in cooking and cleaning in exchange for room and board and safe passage to their next stop. They were bound for Loguetown in the East Blue, and that suited her just fine.

Loguetown was a large city right outside the only passage onto the Grand Line, and it gave her plenty of options for work. She worked odd jobs that provided her with room and board, saving up money over the course of the following two years.

She was working in a tavern and staying at the attached inn when the Red-Hair pirates made port in Loguetown, and she knew she had her ticket back onto the seas, with only one goal in mind—to find her father, and tell him what had become of her grandmother.

Her memories of him were too vague for her to give any decent description, but she wasn't telling anyone her reasons anyway. She waited for her shift to end before approaching Shanks himself and asking, confidently, to join his crew.

That got a tremendous laugh out of the crew at large, but only a little bit of a chuckle from Shanks himself.

"And why would a little slip of a thing like yourself want sail around with a bunch of old men?"

"That's not really important." She sat down at the neighboring table at this. "But what I can provide your crew is."

"And what might that be, love?"

"I've trained with daggers and throwing knives since I was four years old. I also possess the abilities of the Kiku Kiku no Mi."

Yasopp, sitting between Shanks and his first mate Benn Beckman with bis feet propped up on the table, snorted at that, grinning. "So what, it improved your hearing?"

Karimi leveled her eyes with his. "Immensely," she daid. She gave a small smile...and began narrating his thoughts out loud. "'The hell is this girl's deal? Does she have any idea who she's even talking to right now? She can't even be much older than my—Wait. What the hell? What the hell is she—'" His feet slipped off the table, his mouth falling open as he registered what was happening. "'Holy shit, is she in my head? Is—'"

"Okay, you made your point, cut it out!" he half-shouted, staring at her in alarm.

No one was laughing anymore—and she knew she had their full attention now.

"That," Shanks said lightly, the amusement gone from his eyes and replaced with caution—but also intrigue, "is a very dangerous ability for someone as young as yourself to possess."

"I've had it since I was four. I've learned to manage it."

That was, of course, only half true—she could deal with it, yes, but she couldn't fully control it.

After a long, silent moment, in which members of his crew exchanged glances and Shanks quietly studied her, he leaned back in his chair, nodding to himself.

"Let's give you a real test," he said, leaning his arm over the back of his chair. "See how well you can put your abilities to use." Karimi lifted her eyebrows, waiting. "I want you to sneak into the Marine base here in Loguetown. Find where they keep the treasure and money they've confiscated from pirates and thieves they've arrested...and walk out with as much as you can carry." He lifted his bottle of rum from the table. "Undetected."

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?" Shanks glanced across the table at Benn when he spoke up.

"That's been gone for years, but go on."

Benn gave a growl of annoyance at his captain. "She's a kid. You're talking about sending a kid into a damned Marine base to steal from them. That's a suicide mission."

"The girl wants a chance to prove herself," he said simply, shrugging a shoulder. He looked back at her. "That's my offer, love. We're setting out no later than noon tomorrow. You bring your haul to the ship, you can come with us."

Karimi nodded, and stood from her chair. "Then I will see you all no later than noon tomorrow."

A few hours later, when the tavern closed for the night and the crew returned to the ship, they were met with the sight of Karimi, wearing a Marine uniform and sitting on a sizable burlap sack right in the middle of the deck. She stood from it and kicked it over, spilling gold bricks, jewels, and piles of Berry notes and coins across the deck.

Sneaking into the base had honestly been a piece of cake—she found a half-drunk Marine a couple years older than her at another tavern, did a little sweet-talking and got him back to her inn room. Suggested some rather kinky activities that would involve him stripping down and being tied to the bed and he jumped on it. Once he was securely tied, she gathered her few belongings, put on his uniform, put a do-not-disturb sign on the door, and slipped out the window.

It had taken longer to find and get into the rooms where they kept any seized contraband, but it had been as simple as keeping her head down and listening. Hiding and ducking down empty halls when she heard anyone drawing too close. The entire ordeal had taken just under three hours.

After a long stretch of silence, it was Benn Beckman that voiced what everyone was thinking.

"Holy shit."

Shanks grinned over at him. "Suicide mission, aye?"

She was officially welcomed aboard the ship at this, as promised, but there was some deal of commotion when she told them her name.

Particularly her surname.

She learned very quickly that both Shanks and his first mate were familiar with her father—and that Benn utterly despised him. To the point that he, however briefly, threatened to throw Karimi off the ship himself against his captain's will if necessary. The brief altercation ended in Benn storming off to the gun deck on his own, leaving Karimi wondering if she had made the right choice of crew.

Shanks was far more personable.

He told her about her father—Lyon D. Rollo.

He described her father as having been like "the annoying little brother he never wanted." Told her about their time spent as deckhands aboard the Oro Jackson. About his devil fruit abilities that had caused absolutely nothing but trouble for years because they were incredibly difficult to master without massive repercussions: the Kaze Kaze no Mi (logia type: wind).

Told her how they met Benn not long after Roger's execution after setting out on their own—Benn and his younger sister, Sedna, who he had looked after on his own since he was around sixteen and she was six, when their parents had been killed by raiding pirates.

Who Karimi's father had apparently fallen inmediately head over heels for. Said he refused to leave town without her, and did exactly as he set out to. Benn had refused to leave her side, and came with them despite his hatred of pirates at the time.

It was a year later that Shanks and her father had gone their separate ways. It had always been the plan, as they were both too stubborn to accept being anything but captains. Once they gathered enough of their own crew members and got their own ships, they parted as friends. Benn stayed with Shanks, and Sedna remained with Lyon.

It wasn't long after that they recieved word that Sedna had been killed during a firefight with the Marines.

"He never mentioned a child," said Shanks, shaking his head and looking at Karimi like he was looking at a ghost as he leaned forward against the railing around the bow. "I imagine he couldn't have been much older than seventeen." He shook his head a little, still in disbelief. "I don't think I need devil fruit abilities to know what you're doing here."

Karimi nodded shortly. "Do you know where—?"

"No, unfortunately."

No one knew where Lyon was—it had been five years since Shanks actually last saw him, and he and his entire crew seemed to have just vanished into thin air around a year ago, despite still holding active bounties.

Karimi didn't tell him anything else, not why she was looking for him—only that she was, and that she had no intention of remaining with the Red Hair crew for the long term. Just long enough to get a bit of money together and purchase her own ship, something small like a sloop that she could handle by herself.

She ended up sailing with the Red Hair Pirates for around two years, give or take few months. Shanks became something of a mentor to her over that period of time, taking time to train her in Busoshoku Haki, the same type of Haki that her grandmother had used to repress Karimi's Devil Fruit abilities, so Karimi could use it herself when she wished to. It wasn't fool-proof, but it at least helped lessen the mental load.

Once on her own, Karimi ultimately began working as a mercenary; taking on jobs with various pirate crews that required stealth or a subtle touch, avoiding Marines as much as possible, and attempting to gather any information she could about her father, but to no avail on the latter front—it really seemed like he and his crew had just vanished into thin air. His bounty was still active, along with those of his first mate and officers, but no one had heard hide nor hair of them in literaly years.

Nothing much changed for her until Karimi took a job from the Buggy Pirates a few years later, at twenty-four years old. Buggy was searching for a map of the Grand Line, and he needed someone to steal it for him, since he and his crew more or less stood out like sore thumbs and couldn't very discreetly sneak into the naval base in Shells Town where it was being kept. She was reluctant to accept—she usually avoided jobs that had anything at all to do with the Marines, but Buggy made an offer she couldn't refuse.

He claimed to have information about her father that he would gladly trade for the map.

She kept her ship anchored next to Buggy's overnight to set to preparing, planning to make way for Shells Town first thing the following morning...but news came down the grapevine that night that the map had been stolen during a break-in by another pirate crew into the Marine base.

In his rage that his plans were foiled after spending months gathering information, Buggy laid the blame on the hired hand—that she had left immediately, she could have beaten the other crew to the base and gotten the map first. He ultimately sunk her sloop, nearly with her on it before she managed to gather her most valuable items and get herself onto Buggy's ship, where he informed her she would be working for him until her debt at failing to get him the map was paid off—now she was going to have to steal it from the pirates that had taken it.

Karimi had little choice but to agree—being a devil fruit user, it would be far too risky for her to steal a dinghy and take her chances with thr open oceans.

They found the crew on a schooner and took them prisoner easily enough, given that there were only three of them. Karimi recognized one of them from a description Shanks had mentioned during her time with the Red Hair Pirates of the boy he had lost his arm to a sea monster saving (a story that she had honestly thought had to be an exaggeration), who claimed to be their captain and insisted he was going to be king of the pirates...while the other two claimed they weren't even a crew.

Whatever the case, Karimi knew they were her ticket out of servitude to the Buggy Pirates, and mutinied against them the second that the odds shifted in favor of Luffy, Zoro, and Nami.

Luffy was more than happy to welcome her aboard their tiny ship, especially on learning that she knew Shanks. She didn't tell them of her devil fruit abilities, still keeping them suppressed with Haki, a mistake she would regret in the next island they made port at due largely to their schooner springing a leak. They lucked out on landing in a town with a shipyard, but none of them really had a Berry to spare between them to actually purchase a new ship—the vast majority of the money that Karimi had saved herself had sunk to the bottom of the ocean with her own ship amd most of her worldly possessions.

On meeting and quickly befriending Usopp at the shipyard and learning the owner of the place was his "best friend," they had something of a plan, if a bit of a ridiculous one—Luffy was convinced that if he just talked to Kaya and explained their situation, she would just give him a ship and they could be off and on their way.

Both Karimi and Zoro recognized the butler Klahador, but couldn't quite put their finger on why. This was Karimi's mistake—she didn't think enough of it to release her haki and just listen in on his thoughts. It wasn't until everything later fell apart in Kaya's mansion that she did release her haki and quickly learn he was Captain Kuro, a cutthroat captain who had been believed dead for years, that he had been poisoning Kaya for years, and that he planned to murder Kaya and take over the estate himself that night.

She also learned while her abilities were active that Nami had every intention of stealing the Grand Line map and taking it to the pirate crew she was serving against her will. By this point Karimi had developed a soft spot for all three members of the Strawhat Crew (even if two of them still claimed not to be a crew), but she decided not to confront Nami about it—yet.

Kaya was more than happy to gift them a ship after they helped defeat Kuro and freed her from his suppression. She offered Karimi one as well, but she declined, stating that she would prefer to purchase one herself once she had the means to do so—but that she would happily return to Syrup Village and purchase one from Kaya's family's shipyard. In truth, she was honestly enjoying her time with the ragtag little crew, and wanted to stick around with them just a bit longer to see how far Luffy's ambitions could take them.

Usopp joined them at this point as the crew's sharpshooter. They were intercepted not far from Syrup Village by a Marine ship, and Karimi recognized Vice Admiral Garp almost immediately—as did Luffy, to her and the others' astonishment on finding our that Garp was his grandfather. Luffy was able to use his devil fruit abilities to deflect a cannonball thrown at their ship by Garp, and damage Garp's ship enough for them to slip away into a dense fog and lose their pursuers.

They happened by pure luck upon the restaurant ship Baratie, where our story begins in earnest, following Luffy's idiocy at trying to pass off a very expensive bill with an I.O.U. and getting stuck washing dishes in the kitchen to pay it off.

Relationships

Helena Lionne (OC): Grandmother, deceased. A powerful pirate captain in her heyday, Helena disappeared from the seas without a word one day and no one really knew where she had gone. Helena raised Karimi from age four to fourteen, when she was tragically murdered by a revenge-crazed marine admiral whose father Helena had killed years earlier when she was still pirating. Karimi looked up to her immensely and loved her to death, and thinking about her still hurts.

Lyon D. Rollo (OC): A active pirate captain on the grand line, though no one has heard hide nor hair of him or his crew (the Hurricane Pirates) in years. She's been trying to find him for the past ten years, to tell him what happened to her grandmother/his mother, since Karimi was the only witness left alive and no one else would be able to tell him exactly what happened. It doesn't help that she last saw him at four years old, and remembers next to nothing about him. He's actually the one who gave her the hat—he took it when he left home at thirteen to become a pirate himself, and left it with her when he took her to her grandmother. (A/N, if and when I ever get to working on Any Way The Wind Blows, it will be about his history.)

Red-Haired Shanks: Working with the Red-Hair pirates for two years led to her becoming fairly close with Shanks. He had known her father over two decades and became quite protective of her as a direct result, with her looking at him almost as a father figure as well as a mentor.

Benn Beckman: The first mate of Red-Haired Shanks, Karimi learned from Shanks that her mother had been Benn's younger sister, Sedna, and that Benn absolutely despised her father and blamed him for his younger sibling's untimely death. As a result, Benn spent a while both wary and untrusting of Karimi and treating her with indifference that bordered on hostility; but he eventually let it go, accepting that she was capable (and, in his own words, "a hell of a lot smarter than Lyon D. Dipshit"),

The Marines: Karimi positively despises Marines, with the sole exception of Garp since has come to recognize that she wouldn't be alive if not for him, though good luck getting her to admit it.

Luffy: For her short spell traveling with Luffy and his "crew," she bonded with Luffy pretty quickly, coming to see him like a goofy little brother. He absolutely reveled in hearing stories about her time on the ocean, especially any that involved her time on Shanks's crew. She's quick to scold him for his naivety and questionable decisions, but it's mostly out of care; his ambition is definitely infectious, and she wants to see him achieve everything he's set out to do.

Nami: As the only other girl on the Going Merry, Karimi did her best to get close to Nami, especially on learning about her tragic situation with the Arlong Pirates via her devil fruit abilities, but Nami makes herself intentionally distant.

Zoro: She butted heads a fair bit with Zoro, largely due to both of them being exceedingly sarcastic, but she doesn't hate him by any means. Quite the contrary, she admires his abilities as a fighter and passes time sparring with him on the deck. They're about evenly matched in fighting ability, as his style relies largely on strength and her own on evasion and agility.

Usopp: Usopp is always quick to pipe in with his own epic stories of his supposed adventures when Karimi mentions any of her own past ventures. Not unlike Luffy, she looks at him almost like a younger sibling, though honestly he annoys her a little more than Luffy.

[skellinore]

Lord Cabadath and His Son

Screen tones...

It's better if you click on the image.

I swear.

;3;

Anyways, Slenderman is on the left, in case none of you have seen my design for him.

Cabadath is on the right, isn't he just...SMEXY?

Anyways if any of you have been actually reading the head-canons/lore I've been building for the Slender family plus Zalgo.

You'll be surprised to see that I am now building my own Creepypasta AU for these guys.

Basically this AU is where humans don't exist, so demons and random cryptids live on the surface of the world or the Underworld, whatever they prefer.

I'm also making some huge changes to some characters because of this.

Cabadath and his people rule the Overworld/Surface.

While Zalgo's family rule the Underworld.

Which means since humans don't exist, Slender has a different outlook on life and actually has a job instead of being edgy in the forest stalking and killing humans.

He's planning on taking over the kingdom for his people when his father and other parent finally retire.

Speaking of the other other parent, I've decided to make them non-binary. I'm also changing their whole character, so disregard everything I said about them before.

Markus Sinclair, my version of Offender is a detective for the Underworld, he's very much a good boi with a huge drinking problem. Please go to rehab. He gets no bitches.

I'm still reworking Splendor and Trender.

I'll also be working on explaining biology for my version of Faceless Demons/Glass Demons, which is what Slender and his family are.

How they reproduce and such things.

Because I can't get over what someone said on my one post.

They don't reproduce like humans.

>:|

Everything is getting a rebuilt!

World-building.

This is so much work.

But I love them.

UwU

[southernwindsarrow]

Fengqing 20: Reincarnation (for Fengqing Week 2022)

on AO3 as reflecting on us: then, now, and forever

“Watch it, you dumb fuck!”

Feng Xin watched in horror as his cup of coffee spilled all over the man in front of him, leaving a large brown stain on the front of his white shirt.

Fuck. He really wanted that latte. It had cost him ten fucking bucks. 

The man furiously cursed as he tried to wipe the stains away with his slender hands. “Fucking shit, this will have to be dry cleaned,” he grumbled as he gave Feng Xin the most spiteful glare with piercing dark eyes. 

Feng Xin took a step back. He felt a shiver going down his spine at the glower of those dark eyes, and swore that glare could cut glass. The offended man looked like Feng Xin had just murdered his cat. 

What a fucking bitch. He pressed the cup lid down to stop his coffee from spilling more. 

They were standing on the steps of the National Museum, where a weekend pop-up exhibition on rare artifacts and relics of ancient Chinese mythology took place, particularly about Feng Xin’s favorite subject, Gods and Ghosts. 

He'd spent his teens and early twenties buried in Chinese mythology comics and television shows, even spending his first paycheck on Nendoroids of his favorite characters, General Nan Yang and the Crown Prince of Xianle. Fables of the two gods and their courageous deeds had consumed his childhood. But, as time passed, it remained a side passion that he never fully pursued because of academics and his career. Of course, it hadn’t helped that none of his friends were enthusiastic about the same thing.

Last week, his workplace offered him complimentary tickets to the sold-out exhibition, so he took the opportunity to learn more about his long-lost hobby, and he didn't have other plans for the day anyway.

“Fuck, fine. I’ll pay for your fucking dry cleaning.” Feng Xin scowled as he pulled out his leather wallet, ready to fork out some cash. “You don't have to be such a bitch about it,”

“I don’t need your pity,” the angry man snapped before Feng Xin could flip his wallet open, walking past him and into the museum.

“Fucking ass,” Feng Xin grumbled as he tossed the rest of his coffee into the bin and made his way to the designated ticket counter to collect his tickets. 

To Feng Xin’s disbelief, the coffee-stained man with the foul mood was also queuing at the special ticket counters. 

Well, fuck . What were the chances that they both scored complimentary tickets? 

“I’m collecting the complimentary special admission tickets booked under Mu Qing,” the man said to the cheerful lady behind the counter. 

Mu Qing. A bitchy name fit for a bitchy man , Feng Xin thought as he gave his name to the other lady at the next counter.

“Hah! Feng Xin! Appropriate.” Mu Qing scoffed as he walked towards the exhibit.

Feng Xin could only glare daggers at the back of Mu Qing’s skull as he followed behind. 

_____________________________

Mu Qing sighed as he exited the washroom. After getting his ticket, he rushed to the gents by the first exhibit room and tried to wash the coffee stain off, but it lingered like a big brown blotch of baby crap on his chest.

It was his new designer shirt, which he'd gotten after nearly a year on the waiting list, and he'd only worn it once. And it was blatantly apparent that the man with thick brows had no clue what he had ruined.

Work had been brutal that week. After a long week of compiling and filtering through historical journals for a project with a team of archaeologists, he had been looking forward to enjoying the exhibition in solitude . His college alumni association had ties with the museum and had offered him a free pass with special admissions, which he had gladly accepted. But no, his start to the weekend was getting coffee spilled on his designer shirt by a dumb jock instead.

Books on ancient civilizations and myths had been his treasures since he was a child. His mother was a single mother juggling two blue-collared jobs to make ends meet, so while other kids spent their childhoods playing with new toys or learning to ride bicycles, Mu Qing had spent his time reading old and dusty history books on Heaven’s Officials. The set of heavy-bound leather books were the only books on his family's lone bookshelf, which had been in his family for generations. No one in his family knew where the books originated, but his curiosity had led him to his college major and a lifetime fascination with history and mythology.

“I made that coffee stain look like part of your shirt’s design, you know,” Mu Qing heard as he stepped in front of the first display. 

Feng Xin appeared next to him. Mu Qing sighed again. He couldn’t help but think the gods were against him today. 

“Says the person who wears cargo shorts into a museum,” Mu Qing sniped back, cocking a brow. He was not taking fashion advice from this fashion monstrosity. The guy looked like he had just walked out of a nineties fishing magazine. All he needed was a fishing hat and a pocket vest to complete the look.

“Well, they’re comfy, and they’re not stained with coffee,” Feng Xin replied as they made their way to the first display, earning an eye roll from Mu Qing.

The first exhibit was of two well-known objects –  an old black shovel with an intricately carved top handle and a bamboo paper folding fan with three lines running across it. They were the famed Earth Master’s shovel and Wind Master’s fan, respectively, in pristine condition. 

“Wind Master Shi Qingxuan, one of the Four Famous Tales,” Feng Xin read out the sign below the fan. “The young lord who poured wine,” he added casually.

Mu Qing furrowed his eyebrows. “Tsk, undeserving of his title,”

Every history major knew Shi Qingxuan did not ascend as a god on his own. Instead, the proclaimed Wind Master had spent most of his mortal time hiding from the Venerable of Empty Words, a parasitic ghost that fed on the negative thoughts of its host.

Many of its victims resorted to suicide from the extreme anxiety and depression. There were only two exceptions –  prominent scholar He Xuan and the Crown Prince of Xianle. 

As destiny foretold, Shi Qingxuan was fated to be one of its victims. 

Until Shi Wudu intervened.

Shi Wudu, Shi Qingxuan's ascended older brother who bore the title Water Master or Water Tyrant, had seized scholar He Xuan's destiny as a god and bestowed it to Shi Qingxuan to protect his beloved younger brother. As a result, Shi Qingxuan ascended to become the Wind Master with minimal effort and lived the life of a god in luxury at the expense of He Xuan’s luck.

The wronged scholar had held on to his grudge for decades and fought thousands of ghosts and demons for twelve long years in Mount Tong’lu to become one of the most powerful beings of the three realms - a Supreme Ghost called Black Water Sinking Ships.

"Wind Master Shi Qingxuan was innocent," Feng Xin replied, looking at Mu Qing, who had folded his arms across his chest.

"He could have stood up for He Xuan," Mu Qing commented as he approached the display, carefully scrutinizing each elaborately carved root and tree on the shovel's handle, which supposedly belonged to the Earth Master. He Xuan, as a Supreme, had kidnapped Ming Yi, the genuine Earth Master, and used his identity to infiltrate the heavens to seek his revenge. "He Xuan's family and fiancee died in agony as a consequence of Shi Wudu’s selfishness,” he declared indifferently. 

Feng Xin’s eyes widened, taken off guard by Mu Qing’s judgment, “Bro, Shi Wudu was trying to save his baby brother!”

“I am not your bro,” Mu Qing scoffed as he walked through a hallway displaying old chinaware into the following exhibition room. 

“Shi Qingxuan had to choose between his brother and a friend he just learned was a Supreme impersonating the Earth Master,” Feng Xin loudly voiced as he followed behind. “They were best friends in heaven! Where’s your mercy?”

The next exhibit featured two human-sized stone sculptures. One depicted a woman holding a fan in front of her face, but her other arm and a leg were missing, while another showed a headless male. It was Shi Qingxuan in his female form and Shi Wudu. The brothers were often, if not always, worshipped as a male and female pair.

Like the Wind Master’s fan and Earth Master’s shovel, Mu Qing noticed that both statues seem to be in good shape, although missing a few limbs and a head. It appeared their collectors had been caring for them well.

“Are you listening to me?” Feng Xin asked, waving his hand in front of Mu Qing’s face.

“No.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, wondering why Feng Xin was still around. There were plenty of other exhibits to explore, so he didn’t have to invade Mu Qing’s space. “Shi Wudu didn't deserve any mercy,” he added as he noticed the three lines on Shi Wudu’s statue’s fan, almost identical to Shi Qingxuan’s.

Though fate had been unkind to the two brothers at the start and end of their lives, it paled to the physical anguish and psychological torment He Xuan endured over hundreds of years. While Shi Wudu basked in splendor as the Water Tyrant and Shi Qingxuan frolicked in the mortal and heavenly realms, He Xuan had lost his fiancee and family to suicide, rape, murder, and hunger.

Mu Qing could only imagine the pain the Supreme had endured. Unlike the other gods and ghosts he knew, whose difficulties sprang from their own questionable choices, He Xuan was the only being to suffer as a result of the decisions of others. 

Shi Wudu had been selfish in his way, and Shi Qingxuan was a coward in abetting his brother’s egoistic attitude, he told himself.

-- “Everyone, catch!” A scene of a woman dressed in traditional jade green and white garb throwing gold paper up in the air like confetti flashed through Mu Qing’s mind. 

There was an uproar, then a stern, deep voice said, “Qingxuan, behave.”——

Mu Qing shook his head. What? The scene lasted only a moment, but it felt so real. He must be exhausted. It seemed to be a flashback from a television show about Shi Qingxuan he’d watched as a kid.

“Shi Qingxuan lost an arm and broke a leg after their battle with Black Boat,” Feng Xin interrupted his thoughts as he indicated the Wind Master sculpture. He then moved closer to Mu Qing, pointing at the headless statue, “He Xuan lopped off Shi Qingxuan’s brother’s head!”

“I don’t need a museum guide.” Mu Qing sighed. “And it’s Black Water Sinking Ships.”

"And, in the end, Black Boat never killed Shi Qingxuan anyway, so he must have had some affection towards him," Feng Xin continued, dismissing Mu Qing's remarks. “You don’t give up on a centuries-long grudge unless there were feelings involved,”

“Executed his brother, stripped him of his immortality, broke his arm and leg,” Mu Qing casually replied as he walked to the next exhibit. “Dumped him, a spoilt and formerly rich god, in the slums with no means to survive.

“You’re right. I guess there are some romantic elements to their tragedy,” Mu Qing conceded sarcastically. “I suppose Shi Qingxuan’s life as a crippled beggar in the slums was better than a quick death,”

“You are one sick fuck.” Feng Xin squinted as he pointed a finger at him.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes as he made his way to the next room. “I wasn’t the one who said they have feelings for each other.”

“Yeah, but not when you put it that way,” Feng Xin whined as he trailed behind. “You just ruined the whole thing!”

_____________________________

Feng Xin followed his new barbed-mouth companion to the next exhibit.

They hadn’t gotten off to a good start, but no matter how unpleasant Mu Qing was, it felt nice to finally have someone to talk to about myths and folklore. Unfortunately, as much as his friends tried, they had no interest, and it was hard to watch them pretend to enjoy his stories when it was evident they were bored to death. 

It didn’t seem like Mu Qing was interested in talking to him, but he didn’t seem to mind Feng Xin doing the talking too much. And judging by his comments about Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan, it was clear that the snide stranger was at the very least knowledgeable about the fundamentals of Chinese mythology.

“Why are you following me?” Mu Qing asked as he walked towards a tall, elegant bronze statue of a god holding scrolls in his arms. The sculptured man had a composed expression that emanated scholarly intelligence and brilliance. 

It was a statue of Ling Wen, the infamous literature god, in her male form. Ling Wen had gone by the name Nangong Jie during her mortal days and made a living making shoes. 

The shoemaker was so gifted in writing that the top literature god, Jing Wen, ultimately chose Ling Wen to join his lower court officials, only to assign her menial tasks such as delivering gifts to other gods and wiping tables. 

Frustrated with her role, Ling Wen developed contempt for Jing Wen and sped up his demise by burning some of his temples before ascending to become a full-fledged upper court official herself.

However, because many did not believe a woman could be a scholar, the literature god struggled to gain worshippers, a challenge she easily overcame by taking on a male form when facing the mortal realm.

Although it had been more than a millennium since the story of Ling Wen was first recorded, it was a problem she would still face in the modern world today, Feng Xin thought as he glanced at a faded watercolor painting of Ling Wen. The goddess was painted in her demure female form, hanging on the wall next to the statue. 

“Hasn't your big brain noticed that the exhibition path is one-way? I can’t help it if we’re walking in the same direction,” Feng Xin replied as a shiny object caught his attention. 

An antique long sword with cracks on its blade with the label 'Ming Guang' and the broken fragments of Shi Wudu's fan were displayed next to Ling Wen's statue. 

"Oh, it's the Three Brain Cells!" Feng Xin's eyes gleamed with excitement. He pressed his face into the glass display with the long sword.

He’d always been a fan of weapons, especially ancient Chinese weapons, and seeing the legendary sword, Ming Guang, was almost like a dream come true. Its wielder, General Pei Ming, conquered vast lands before falling prey to his traitorous second-in-command, Rong Guang, in combat. Ironically, his defeat in the war resulted in his ascension, and he eventually became one of the most powerful gods in Chinese mythology. Third in martial might only to the Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu and the Crown Prince Of Xianle. 

Feng Xin’s favorite weapon, however, was the bow. He had been an avid archer during his school days, representing his school in multiple state-level competitions. 

No other sport could give him the sense of gratification archery did. Feeling the tension release as his fingers let go of the bowstring always gave him a swell of satisfaction, and the “thump” as his arrow hit the target was music to his ears. But, regrettably, it was another passion that never took off after he graduated high school.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “The Three Tumors,”

Feng Xin rolled his eyes back. “You know, one day you’re gonna roll your eyes so hard they’ll get stuck behind your head.”

In return, he received another savage eye roll, tempting him to press Mu Qing’s eyeballs deeper into their sockets.

“Hasn't happened yet,” Mu Qing muttered as he read the artifact description about the Three Tumors.  

“The Three Tumors of the Heavenly Realm consisted of the literature god Ling Wen, General Ming Guang of the North, and the Water Tyrant Shi Wudu.” 

The corners of Mu Qing’s mouth turned downwards as he continued reading the passage out loud, “They are known for their close camaraderie and friendship in the Heavens. It was known that Ling Wen kept silent upon learning about Shi Wudu’s crime regarding the stealing of He Xuan’s fate and swapping it with his brother.

A scene flashed through Feng Xin’s mind. 

-- “Some wine, Noble Jie?” a deep sultry voice asked an elegant woman in traditional dark robes. They were seated at an elaborate banquet. 

“Later, Ol’ Pei,” she replied with a hint of annoyance. 

Another stern male voice chuckled, “Stop attempting to intoxicate our Noble Jie. We need her alert should General Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen start fighting about their lantern counts again,”--

Huh? What was that? Feng Xin blinked a few times as Mu Qing’s reading brought his mind back to reality. He then brushed it off, assuming it was an oddly intense daydream. 

"Due to their arrogant, boisterous, and abrasive personalities, many heavenly officials were not fond of the Three Tumors but begrudgingly worked with them as the three had immense power and status in the heavens," Mu Qing added, his frown deepening with every word.

Feng Xin could sense Mu Qing’s disdain as he read about General Ming Guang’s conquest of thousands of women over the three realms and chuckled at his reaction. “They sound like a fun bunch,” 

“They sound revolting,” Mu Qing retorted as he tore his eyes away from erotic drawings of General Ming Guang with three women; a human, a ghost, and a god. 

"Yeah, but in a fun way," Feng Xin protested, his gaze drawn to a few ancient scrolls rumored to be from Ling Wen's palace. "You wouldn't recognize fun if it smacked you in the nuts," he added lightly with a teasing smirk. 

“That doesn’t make any sen—“

“Hey, what’s that?” A bronze figure by the edge of the room caught Feng Xin’s attention. 

A bronze ox statue and an antiquated farmer's hat stood side by side in the corner of the room. It was a statue of Rain Master Yushi Huang's loyal ox companion and her fabled Rain Master's hat, which the Crown Prince of Xianle had used in an attempt to stop the drought.

"It was believed that the avid adulterer, General Ming Guang, eventually gave up his philandering ways and settled down in Yushi Country with Rain Master Yushi Huang," Feng Xin read from one of the explanatory plaques. “She was the renowned princess who slit her throat due to General Ming Guang's conduct while their respective nations were at war.”

Mu Qing sneered at his words. “A prolific womanizer such as General Ming Guang didn’t deserve someone as revered as the Rain Master,”  

“That’s what you said about Shi Wudu and Shi Qingxuan.” Feng Xin’s brows drew together as he glanced at the angry Mu Qing. “I’m starting to see a pattern here,”

Mu Qing raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What pattern?”

“The pattern is anti-joy. You are anti-joy.” Feng Xin laughed as Mu Qing gave him the meanest glare before walking ahead. 

_____________________________

Mu Qing hurried to the next room, attempting to shrug off the pesky stranger tailing him, but failed as Feng Xin caught up with him with a few long strides. "Hey, you left me!"

Mu Qing sighed at his failure to deter the other man. “We’re not together.”

Perhaps he should have been more direct in his approach. He’d been rude and snide, hoping the other man would catch his meaning and leave him alone, but it seemed Feng Xin was either too polite or too dumb to notice.

“Nah, we are now. I like your doom and gloom commentaries.” Feng Xin smirked, waving his hands in amazement. “It adds depth to these fairy tales. You’re like Hans Christian fucking Andersen,”

Did the moron equate Chinese mythology to fucking mainstream fairy tales? Hans Christian Andersen? Mu Qing sighed again, probably the hundredth since he met Feng Xin today. Feng Xin was dumb, he concluded. That had to be it.

“Ugh.” Mu Qing ignored him in favor of checking out an odd pair of items featured in the room. 

The main exhibit had a mannequin wearing a gunny sack encased in a glass display, and next to it, a clay mask of an angry demon’s face. 

It was the infamous brocade immortal and the mask of a banished god who became a ghost. 

The fallen god, Yin Yu, has used the brocade immortal in a fit of jealousy and anger to manipulate his Shi-di, the wild and naive but powerful Quan Yizhen, to cause a massacre in the heavens. 

“So, I’m guessing you think Yin Yu didn’t deserve his fate of being banished from the heavens?” Feng Xin asked as he scrutinized the worn-out gunny sack. It looked no different from the gunny sacks he’d seen used to store rice grains in rural villages. “Quan Yizhen wasn’t exactly the easiest shi-di to handle,”

Mu Qing looked at the demon-faced mask with a displeased expression. “Yin Yu was weak. He shouldn't have ascended in the first place. “He wasn’t strong enough to control his emotions. Someone like him shouldn’t have made it past a middle court level god,” he added. 

“The fuck? I’m not saying Quan Yizhen was wrong, but he was a handful!” Feng Xin argued as he walked around the display. “And Yin Yu was only human! His reaction was normal,”

“… Yin Yu was a god.” 

“I know he’s a god. I meant it’s normal for someone to react the way he did,”

“It’s normal for humans to react the way he did.  Yin Yu was a god ,” Mu Qing enunciated as they moved along the relics from Quan Yizhen’s palace, mostly stacks of gold bars of different designs. Although the untamed god was never known for his political standing or intelligence, he gained many followers solely on his martial strength. As a result, he was one of the wealthiest gods in the Heavenly Realm. 

"Imagine dealing with someone like Quan Yizhen," Feng Xin hypothesized before pausing. "But I guess you're not nice enough to wind up with a shi-di like Quan Yizhen in the first place," he looked at Mu Qing with an accusing squint.

“Exactly,” Mu Qing crinkled his nose at the prospect of dealing with a wild child like Quan Yizhen. Yin Yu had been compassionate in adopting the wild boy as his shi-di, but that did not imply he was worthy of ascending. If history were to show anything, being merciful and compassionate was not a prerequisite to being a god. Pei Xiu, one of Pei Ming’s descendants, ascended by winning a war that massacred an entire city. 

Yin Yu struck gold with his calamity and ascension, and that was it. His greatest fault was believing he could be pure of heart when he wasn’t.

If their conversations for the last hour were any indication, his argument was not getting across to Feng Xin. On the contrary, the man seemed to prefer vomiting unfounded hearsay rather than listening to Mu Qing’s facts. 

-- A memory of armoured guardsmen, like the ones in the museum, holding down a young boy with wild curly hair fighting back with a confused expression. “Shi-Xiong!” the boy yelled out. 

Was that Feng Xin among the crowd? --

The scene ended in seconds. Mu Qing shook his head again. Something didn’t feel right, and his chest tightened. Were they hallucinations? What was causing them? Was he sick?

But he pushed aside the pesky feeling in his chest to refute Feng Xin’s ill-informed facts. 

"It doesn't really matter. Quan Yizhen died during the final battle with Jun Wu anyway," Feng Xin said as he gave Mu Qing a know-it-all look. The man was clearly impressed with his inaccurate information.

“Quan Yizhen did not die in that battle,” Mu Qing looked at Feng Xin with a dumbfounded expression. Where did this guy get his information? Black Boat? Three Brain Cells? Quan Yizhen dying?

Mu Qing eyed Feng Xin from head to toe as he wondered what someone like him was doing in a museum in the first place. He looked like a gym rat who had gotten lost and followed the wrong group. A hypothesis that didn't sound too far-fetched at this point.  

Feng Xin scratched his head as he beamed at Mu Qing, “No, no, he did. I’m pretty good at this historical stuff. I saw a video on YouTube.”

“On YouTube?” He raised his eyebrow for what felt like the hundredth time today. Feng Xin was... bragging? 

“Yeah, I enjoy the History Channel and YouTube videos on myths and all. And TikTok. Helps me de-stress after work,” Feng Xin replied casually. “Say, you’re pretty good at this too. How’d you get into it?”

“I majored in ancient civilizations for my undergraduate degree and wrote a thesis on Chinese myths and legends for postgrad,” Mu Qing replied casually.

“Oh, that’s pretty cool,” Feng Xin said before he stopped in his tracks. “Oh.”

Feng Xin wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, he looked to his off-the-rack navy blue Nike trainers as if they were the most exciting pair of shoes in the world, but Mu Qing could see his cheeks reddening from the side. It was almost cute. Almost .

“The next one looks interesting.” Mu Qing walked ahead. Feng Xin followed behind him quietly, and Mu Qing could only smirk in satisfaction. Finally, silence.

_____________________________

Feng Xin looked to the ground as he followed a few steps behind Mu Qing into the next room, languishing over the fact that he had boasted about his YouTube-educated ‘expertise’ in Chinese mythology to a history graduate. No wonder Mu Qing kept scoffing at his explanations.

If he could crawl under a rock and hide for a year, he would. It was so. fucking. embarrassing. 

Fucking YouTube. Feng Xin wanted to die.

In contrast to the other exhibits they had explored, the current room was the largest. And unlike the previous ones, the entire room appeared dedicated to one god, the glorious former Crown Prince of Xianle.

He couldn't help but be impressed by the room's artworks and countless artifacts. It filled every corner of the room from left to right and top to bottom. On exhibit were everything from a modest set of white robes to the most exquisite swords and finely carved marble sculptures he'd ever seen.

In the center of the floor was a pile of gold-foil cards arranged neatly in the shape of a palace. A warm spotlight from the ceiling made it sparkle and glimmer from every angle as though it radiated a warm aura.

Mu Qing appeared preoccupied with the many clothes the Crown Prince had worn, particularly one exceedingly ornate garment of white and scarlet with gold accents and a gold mask.

It was the famed attire the Crown Prince donned during the Shangyuan Festival when he leaped from his parade wagon platform to save a boy who had jumped off the city walls, the performance that won him the affection of the common people. 

Feng Xin decided to explore the other side of the room instead, away from Mu Qing, who evidently didn’t want him around. He neared the paintings of the crown prince, dressed in the same Shangyuan Festival costume and gold mask, wielding a sword in one hand and a dainty pink flower in the other, symbolizing “the power to end the world, but with a heart as gentle as a flower.”

According to the plaques, all displayed items were replicas rather than originals. Almost everything about The Crown Prince of Xianle, while he was a human and during his brief moment as a martial god, had been destroyed by worshippers who turned on him when he couldn't save them from the atrocious human face disease and the invasion of Yong’an.

The human face disease had spread like wildfire through the people while the drought intensified, leading to famine, and Yong'an’s army emerged victorious.

Xie Lian, The Crown Prince of Xianle, also known as the God-pleasing Crown Prince, eventually fell from the pinnacle of splendor as heaven's favorite saviour to a scrap-collector god who roamed the mortal realm and became the laughingstock of the three realms for 800 years.

He had ascended for the third time after nearly a millennium of wandering the mortal realm, befriended a formidable Supreme Ghost, and defeated Jun Wu, the Heavenly Emperor. The latter had been the mastermind behind multiple large-scale atrocities in all three realms for over a thousand years.

It was a tale for the ages.

The story of Xie Lian enthralled Feng Xin. He was sick and tired of hearing about heroes who never gave up, strived to be better people, and overcome bigger and tougher supervillains. Hollywood, Disney, and anime were all the same. It was time heroes were given realistic flaws. 

Although a celebrated god, Xie Lian was still very much emotionally human, as he tried to explain to Mu Qing about Yin Yu earlier. Gods were not exempt from feelings like compassion, anguish, grief, frustration, and devastation simply because they ascended. In truth, Gods and humans were very much alike.

The Heavenly Emperor banished Xie Lian from the heavenly realm for intervening in mortal affairs, and almost all gods and worshippers shunned him. His two closest attendants left him, and his parents took their own lives because they believed their only son would be happier without the burden of caring for them.

Understandably, the former Crown Prince attempted suicide. It was a natural reaction, and it was human to do so. Even gods were limited by their human emotions. When humans ascend, they are still human; when they fall, they are still human.

Xie Lian failed.  

He gave up. He wanted to die.

Being an immortal was the only thing that prevented the god from joining his parents in death. But, to Xie Lian’s disappointment, he couldn’t die no matter how hard he tried.

Feng Xin's favorite part of Xie Lian's narrative was not his high splendour, his plummet into banishment, or his resurrection as a powerful god. No, it was a small but pivotal event in his life that changed the course of his life. 

It was a chance encounter with a stranger. 

Death was not an option for Xie Lian, who had been mourning his life as a fallen god, the loss of his companions, and the life of his beloved parents. As a result, he almost became a calamity during his worst hour. 

For days, Xie Lian lay motionless in a crater in the heart of a town, ignored or mocked by pedestrians. His heart filled with darkness and sorrow, and the broken god intended to spread the human face disease to the rest of the world. He wanted others, especially those who had forsaken him, to endure the same suffering.

Ironically, it was at this moment that his life path changed because of an unknown man who bestowed him with a hint of mercy. Not a friend, comrade, foe, or family, but a stranger he met for no more than a few minutes.

A mere stranger who showed him a moment of kindness. A man whose identity was unknown even to the person he helped. A man who did not know that the man before him was a fallen god from the heavens in the appearance of a filthy street beggar. Before leaving, all he did was offer Xie Lian a straw hat to protect him from the rain and wish him well.

A minute of kindness was all it took to stop a god from becoming a calamity.

It was Feng Xin’s favorite story of Xie Lian because it attested that any unexpected thing, stranger, or event in a person’s life could alter their entire destiny.

-- A thin man with tangled long brown hair curled up on a thin beaten-up mattress suddenly flickered through Feng Xin’s mind. The man was curled up, his back to him. 

"My dear child, please eat," a small woman in simple robes sits on the side of the mattress, pleading with the man to take a spoonful from her bowl of purple stew. 

"Go away," the guy snapped back, his voice familiar despite its hoarseness. At that moment, Feng Xin was overwhelmed with a sudden sadness. He wanted to reach out to the man. --

“Hey, dumbass,” Mu Qing’s mocking voice pulled him from his thoughts. With Mu Qing's voice, the feelings of grief vanished. “Come with me,” he gestured to join him up front.

Odd , Feng Xin thought. He’s always had a vivid imagination, but it's never been this intense. Being in the museum must have triggered some long-forgotten daydreams. He tried to shake off the lingering chills as he trails behind the other man.

Mu Qing led them behind a wall of black drapes that appeared to be hiding a small room. It was so subtle that most passersby, if not all, would have missed it.

Because there wasn't much space in the makeshift room, the two were standing shoulder to shoulder. A medium-sized artwork of a person lighted by a faint spotlight hung on a wall. Feng Xin approached it to check it out.

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what he was seeing.

It was an oil painting of a bound and gagged Xie Lian in a decrepit old temple, with tears streaming down his agonized face as hundreds of swords pierced his chest. His garments were a dark crimson, saturated in blood and dripping on the floor to form a little river of red until the edge of its frame. 

Feng Xin couldn’t recognize the scene, and the more he stared at it, the more it made him uneasy. The pain and desperation on Xie Lian’s anguished face looked so real that it was startling. He swore he could hear Xie Lian’s hoarse whispers for help.

"How did you find out about this room?" he asked, seeing that no one else was waiting to enter. The makeshift room was tucked away from the other exhibits.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “It’s on the fine print on the back of the special tickets. Didn't you read yours?”

Feng Xin gave him the most affronted look. “Who the fuck reads the back of tickets?” Like any regular person, he only read the date and time. Nobody reads the fine print. Mu Qing was starting to give him serial killer vibes.

“It's called understanding what you're receiving, you dumb fuck,” Mu Qing retorted with a scowl. 

“Anyway, shut up. This narrative of Xie Lian isn't well-known since this is the sole artifact that recounts it," he added as they scrutinize the artwork. “Historians are still debating the authenticity of this piece.”

"What's the story?" Feng Xin asked Mu Qing, noticing their proximity in the little curtained room. From the side, he could see the light freckles sprinkled on Mu Qing's nose in the faint light. They look pretty, Feng Xin thought as he fixated on the little brown dots. He could draw constellations with those freckles. 

Mu Qing turned to him with a complex gaze, pulling his focus away from the mesmerizing spread of freckles to dark eyes fanned by thick lashes instead. "According to older scrolls, Jun Wu presented Xie Lian as a sacrifice to a group of villagers trapped in the temple. Those who stabbed him would be immune to the human face disease.

"Being immortal, he could be stabbed repeatedly in non-vital parts of the body without dying," he explained slowly. “Almost all of them stabbed him willingly, ”

Feng Xin clenched his fists as his sympathy for the mythological god grew a hundredfold. 

He knew that murder was the only way to protect against the human face disease. It was told in many stories about Xie Lian. But this was the first time he'd heard of Xie Lian stabbed endlessly by people who tortured a powerless god for their own needs.

The irony of it sickened him. To be mercilessly stabbed by the common people, the exact people he was attempting to save by gambling his life, the life of his companions and parents, and his immortality. 

It epitomized human selfishness.

Xie Lian had done everything in his power to stop the human face disease, help Yong’an with the drought and famine, lead Xianle in a war, and at the same time, answer prayers from eight thousand temples. Everything he did was for the common people, yet they quickly turned their backs on him at Bai Wuxiang’s words.

Feeling a little brokenhearted over the tale, Feng Xin couldn’t express his jumbled thoughts immediately, but he wanted to know Mu Qing’s. “What do you think about Xie Lian?” 

The stories of Xianle and Xie Lian had a special place in Feng Xin’s heart. He never knew why they profoundly affected him, as if he had lived through them or known the fallen crown prince. As though they were part of his life. Mu Qing couldn't begrudge Xie Lian for what he'd been through, could he?

“His actions were… understandable.” Mu Qing sighed, unexpectedly looking as dejected as he felt.

At Mu Qing’s reply, Feng Xin let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding.

For once, they both agreed.

_____________________________

The next room they visited had more statues and paintings of the Crown Prince of Xianle, in his splendid Shangyuan Festival outfit with a flower in one hand and a sword in the other, and of him in simple white robes. This time, however, the sculptures and paintings were accompanied by a taller man in red with an eyepatch.

Feng Xin was looking at the statue of the tall man with an apprehensive glare, and Mu Qing couldn't blame him. Hua Cheng, the mythical Supreme Ghost, gave him the chills.

“So, is it true that Hua Cheng followed Xie Lian everywhere from the start?” Feng Xin asked, looking unsettled. 

“You’re asking me?” Mu Qing, caught off guard by the question, peered at Feng Xin, puzzled. “Thought you’d have watched a TikTok video on it,” he quipped sarcastically. 

“You’re the professional history person!” Feng Xin retorted. Mu Qing could see his cheeks turning red again, and he couldn't help but smirk. Making Feng Xin fluster was pure entertainment.

“You’re right. I am.”

He read from the explanatory plaque while Feng Xin looked like he was going to combust with embarrassment, “Crimson Rain Sought Flower, also known as Hua Cheng, devoted his entire life to the Crown Prince Xie Lian. 

“According to legends, the Crown Prince had unknowingly saved a young Hua Cheng, who tried to commit suicide by jumping off the city walls during the Shangyuan parade, where he was performing,” he continued.

"It is believed that Hua Cheng died as a soldier in the war for Xianle during their battle against Yong’an, but his soul remained in the mortal realm to stay alongside the Crown Prince."

As much as the Ghost King unnerved him, his devotion to the Xie Lian was admirable. Mu Qing had never dared to hope for someone to love him fiercely for a single minute, let alone for over a thousand years across lifetimes. He had spent most of his life alone. 

He was always alone in everything he did and had long given up on the prospect of finding someone who could truly understand and accept him.

It wasn’t difficult to embrace loneliness when you had no other options.

And yet, it didn’t stop Mu Qing from occasionally wondering how it would be if he had someone by his side. 

“It is also said that in his weaker ghost form, Hua Cheng helped Xie Lian in various ways,” he added as he tore his eyes from the bronze plaque.

“Do you know what he did as a ghost? To help Xie Lian? There’s so many different versions in books and TV,” Feng Xin asked. “I heard he bashed up Xie Lian’s cousin into pulp too.”

Mu Qing turned to find Feng Xin looking at him with sharp eyes boring into him and a serious expression. As though he needed to learn more about the ghost.

“He became a Menace-level ghost fireball that followed him right after the fall of Xianle, 

“And when Xie Lian was stabbed in a temple? Being a tiny ghost, he couldn't do anything about it but watch his god suffer through stab after stab. It frustrated him to the point he evolved into a Savage ghost,” Mu Qing explained slowly with a long exhale. 

“I wonder how these myths came about or who recorded them,” Feng Xin speculated. “The ones about Xie Lian, especially. They’re so… specific,”

“Apparently, it was Hua Cheng himself because he was so proud of Xie Lian. Legends say he sculpted almost all the sculptures and paintings you see here, even this one,” Mu Qing replied as they walked out of the covert room. “He wanted the world to know how strong his lover was.”

“He creeps me out,” Feng Xin said out of the blue. He tucked his hands inside his pockets as he scrunched his nose at a painting of the god and the ghost. “It’s cool that Hua Cheng would live and die for Xie Lian, and I respect him for that, but man, he just really gives me the creeps. Maybe it’s the fucking eyepatch,” he added, echoing Mu Qing’s thoughts.

“Mhm,” Mu Qing agreed with a slight nod,  surprised by Feng Xin’s sentiments about Hua Cheng. Most people he knew adored Hua Cheng as if the ghost were the best person across all three realms. 

He looked at the human-sized statues of Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, side by side. God and Ghost worshipped together. And at the same time, they were a fallen god with his most devoted believer. It was a perplexing, absurd combination, yet no two seemed to fit better together.

“So.. what do you think of Hua Cheng?” Feng Xin asked curiously as he approached behind him, stepping into his personal space again. 

By now, Mu Qing had grown accustomed to Feng Xin’s hovering presence. He began to seem less like a bothersome mosquito and more like a pleasant annoyance. It was like scratching an itchy bug bite. Naturally, he'd rather not be around Feng Xin, but his presence was... tolerable.

“Ugh, must you ask about everything?” Mu Qing rolled his eyes. 

“I’m making conversation!”

“Your conversation is unwanted—“

Suddenly, a raspy man’s voice came from behind them, “Mr. Feng, Mr. Mu, you must be our two guests with special admissions tickets.”

The two nodded in unison, surprised at the sudden appearance of the stranger who seemed to lack a presence of any sort.

The dull-looking man was wearing black from top to toe and a facemask, shrinking his already nonexistent presence. 

“Would you like to have a look at another special collection?” the man asked, his pale face devoid of emotions. He left before the two could respond, as though knowing they would follow. 

Feng Xin and Mu Qing looked at each other questioningly before trailing behind the man through an unmarked black door.

It was a large square room with four large paintings, each hanging on a wall. The paintings were large enough to cover almost the entire wall.

Mu Qing strained his eyes as he stood at the door, trying to make sense of the four oil paintings. They seemed peculiar, mostly beige with brown and black, with a touch of color speckles and some dark lines. His eyes widened, feeling a chill down his spine as he understood he was staring at interwoven limbs.

He took a step back, realizing they were erotic paintings of the infamous ghost and god in positions only non-humans could attain. With a blink, he quickly turned and left, leaving a still-squinting Feng Xin behind. As he stepped out, he heard a booming “WHAT THE FUCK!”

_____________________________

Shortly afterwards, Feng Xin bolted from the room, “My eyes are burning!” He couldn’t believe the scandalous figures he saw. They looked like abstract art initially, but as he worked out the humanoid forms, they could not be unseen. They seared deep into his brain, making him want to gouge his eyes. 

“Oh my god, do you think that weird guy who brought us here is in charge of those—those—abominations? Is that why he looks like he has no soul?” He sobbed and blinked rapidly, attempting to get rid of the pornographic images in his mind. 

He finally squatted, hands holding the side of his head, defeated by his mind. “Fucking hell. Did Hua Cheng paint those too? Fuck. I knew he was a fucking creep. I knew it.”

Mu Qing nodded and couldn’t agree more. Compared to the paintings, the erotic drawings of General Ming Guang and the three ladies from the three realms looked like illustrations from a children’s book. 

As a history major, there were few art pieces he was unfamiliar with, mainly because they were items kept in private collections, away from the eager eyes of museum collectors and researchers. Yet, they were the collections that any history enthusiast would be honored to see. 

He figured the four paintings had been one of those, kept in a private collection for decades until today. The obscene paintings of the God and Ghost were unheard of. He was sure of it, and their collectors did an excellent job keeping them out of the public eye. Erotic images of the Crown Prince of Xianle and the Supreme Ghost Crimson Rain Sought Flower would have made the front pages of National Geographic Magazine if the media caught wind of it.

Mu Qing sighed as he looked at the traumatised Feng Xin, still squatting on the floor with his face in his hands. The paintings should have remained a secret, he thought. Some things were just not meant for others to see. 

They both silently agreed that Hua Cheng was a creepy pervert.

After a few minutes of recollecting themselves, they quickly made their way to the final room, eager to be as far as possible from the paintings.

_____________________________

The final room was dedicated to two Heavenly Martial Gods. It was smaller than the previous rooms, and to their relief, there were no more artifacts of Xie Lian or his Supreme Ghost partner.

In the middle of the room was a tall glass display showcasing a long wooden bow, with a few arrows in a leather quiver with delicate stitching. And next to it stood a domineering yet elegant long sabre with a solid black hilt.

They were the weapons of Xie Lian’s two most trusted attendants, General Nan Yang’s bow and arrows and the sabre of General Xuan Zhen.

The two generals were notorious for their hostility towards one another. Over centuries, countless books and stage plays have told the stories of the legendary animosity between them.

And yet, the two were such equals that neither could gain the upper hand in almost everything they did. They were rivals in every possible way. Their strength, number of worshippers, temples, and territories paralleled each other from the start of their lives as mortals to the end of their lives as martial gods.

General Nan Yang had been Xie Lian's bodyguard since they were both fourteen years old, and General Xuan Zhen, a servant of the same age, had joined them a few years later after Xie Lian recognized his talent for cultivation and invited him to be his attendant so he could cultivate at the same time.

When their Crown Prince soared into prominence, they rose with him into the Heavenly realm as lower court officials, and the two plunged alongside him as he was banished back into the mortal realm.

But as fate would have it, all three went their separate ways. Xie Lian vanished off Heaven’s radar, living a humble existence collecting scraps and performing street acts to survive for 800 years before he ascended again for the third time.

On the other hand, Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen eventually ascended as martial gods on their own and gained territories to protect. Oddly enough, their territories bordered each other, and like them, their worshippers spent much time at the border battling each other.

For 800 years, the two gods had caused near-catastrophic levels of damage to the Heavenly Palace with their explosive fights, usually caused by a snide comment or a rude gesture from either party. Some believed that rumbling thunderstorms in the Southern regions were caused by the two gods engaging in a fierce battle in the Heavens.

Feng Xin stood as close as possible to the wooden bow and quiver of arrows, admiring every single curve of its handle and the gleaming shine on the tip of the arrows. 

“Amazing,” he whispered to himself. Although it was the first time he’d laid eyes on Nan Yang’s iconic weapons, he swore he could feel the texture of the bow in his hands, even from a distance. As if he’d held it to shoot a hundred thousand arrows. As if the bow was made for him and him alone.

He noticed Mu Qing stood beside him, enamored by Xuan Zhen’s sabre. Mu Qing’s dark eyes and thick lashes trailed the pointy tip of the saber’s polished blade down to its black handle. He was so enraptured by the saber that he didn’t notice when Feng Xin tapped lightly on his shoulder.

Feng Xin couldn't help but grin at the sight. Who would have thought that the bad-tempered, sarcastic, sharp-tongued prick would also be a weapon enthusiast? Mu Qing seemed like someone you’d see with a fancy cocktail drink at a swanky fine dining restaurant rather than a sword tournament or sporting game.

_______________________

“Hey, Mu Qing,” Feng Xin’s cheery voice interrupted Mu Qing’s suspicious thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel something was amiss. The sabre was exquisite, yes. But there was also a strange sensation of familiarity he couldn't place as his gaze lingered on it as if he’s seen the sabre before. It left a vexing feeling in his mind. 

He turned to face a grinning Feng Xin, standing a bit too close for comfort, trapping him between the glass display and him. Mu Qing realized they were the same height, allowing him to look straight into Feng Xin’s smiling light brown eyes, which had a golden glint, and his heart skipped at that sight. As irksome as Feng Xin was, Mu Qing couldn't deny the man was attractive with his boyish charm and athletic physique.

“Why are you grinning like an idiot?” he lifted an eyebrow.

Feng Xin gushed, relishing in the light pink blush spreading across Mu Qing’s fair cheekbones under the sprinkle of freckles, “You like weapons, huh?”

“They’re… all right.”

“Just alright? Sure." Feng Xin's smile widened as he turned away and walked towards the clothing display, looking back at Mu Qing. "If you say so," he said, chuckling.

A line of mannequins in different outfits displayed the two generals’ outfits - from the simplest of robes to the most robust armors. Although the clothes of the two generals were not as striking and dazzling as the Crown Prince’s bright colors, they were no less grand and imposing in their simplicity.

“They look heavy as fuck.” Feng Xin held his chin as he scrutinized the animal carving on one of General Nan Yang’s bronze shoulder plates. “You think normal people could wear them to fight?”

“I doubt it,” Mu Qing said as he moved towards the set of silver armor displayed next to it. “No human would be able to move, let alone fight in these.”

“You think Gods exist?” Feng Xin asked. Feng Xin wasn’t a staunch believer in religion, but he’d always believed in a higher power. Life is too precious for it to be just that . At the very least, there had to be some kind of fate or destiny holding everything together. Themes of fate and destiny were what drew him to mythologies of gods and ghosts in the first place.

"Either gods exist, or these armors were built for aesthetic purposes and were misidentified as the work of gods through time." Mu Qing shrugged. Whether religion was real was not a conundrum he concerned himself with. The argument of the true or superior god had already caused enough damage to this world. Mu Qing had better things to do than contribute to a neverending, inconclusive debate that had plagued humanity since the start of organized religion. "Who knows, they're just myths anyway,"

"Hah, some historian you are." Feng Xin chuckled in response to Mu Qing's criticisms.

“Historical facts are not immune to fallacy,” Mu Qing commented as they passed by the line of armored mannequins. “So, Professor Feng Xin of YouTube University, what do you think of the two gods?”

“What! You…” Feng Xin fumbled for words as he tripped on his foot. “Who the fuck majors in history anyway?” he countered fiercely. As much as he loved history, he knew it was not a path he would have chosen in this lifetime or the next. It was too dry and dull a subject, requiring much reading and only reading. Too much reading and no life. It would have killed him.

He had majored in sports anatomy and physiology, a much more wholesome and exciting course. Only someone who did not like having fun, such as Mu Qing, could enjoy studying history. “Anyway, General Nan Yang is miles ahead of Xuan Zhen. Everyone knows that,”

“Ugh, of course someone like you would be a Ju Yang fan.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “General Xuan Zhen is obviously the superior one.”

“He only got that nickname because he was doing godly work saving people!” Feng Xin argued, appalled that his new friend would choose a cold and heartless god over the warm and kind General Nan Yang. “Xuan Zhen was so vain he probably just spent his time looking for flaws in his fucking statues.”

“I don't understand how you see that as an insult,” Mu Qing scoffed, unsurprised by Feng Xin’s reactions. From the start, it was evident that Feng Xin was a massive fan of Nan Yang. He appeared to be as stupid as his beloved god. “Have you noticed that none of Nan Yang’s statues look alike? Clearly , Nan Yang was incapable of noticing details. You would trust a god who doesn’t bother to check on the work of his worshippers?”

Feng Xin scowled in disbelief at Mu Qing’s reasoning. “Are you fucking kidding me?” People did not worship gods because they were good at nitpicking flaws. Gods were worshipped for their benevolence and generosity.

The two stood in front of the mythical Generals’ grand armors’ facing each other with defiance in their eyes.

“Nan Yang was a glorified bodyguard who never understood the realities of life. He was a naive rich boy who was as sheltered as Xie Lian,” Mu Qing retorted, challenging Feng Xin’s frown. 

If the stories from Volume 4 of Xianle’s fabled history were genuine, then Nan Yang was partly responsible for Xie Lian’s state of misery after their banishment into the mortal realm. 

The bodyguard had set his crown prince on an exceptionally high pedestal by wholeheartedly believing that Xie Lian would easily ascend for the second time. Consequently, Nan Yang refused to delegate Xie Lian any mundane jobs to encourage him to concentrate on cultivation without distractions. No chores, no cooking, no street performances, nothing . They were duties beneath a crown prince and were all borne by Nan Yang or Xuan Zhen. Occasionally, Xie Lian was allowed to do heavy labor, but it required much persuasion from the crown prince.

As a result, the banished god was only able to cultivate and nothing else.

Xie Lian was under immense pressure to cultivate his way back into the heavens for his honor, his parents, and his attendants. Yet, he was denied the gratification of accomplishing simple tasks. 

Mu Qing couldn't even begin to fathom the suffocation Xie Lian must have felt with the burden of being the sole person who could save them. The crown prince likely felt like he was drowning.

It was basic psychology. 

If Xie Lian felt he had contributed to the family, no matter how modest, it was a sense of achievement. He could have undertaken simple tasks like washing his clothes, cooking for his parents, or working alongside Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen.

It could have restored his confidence and given him a sense of belonging.

But no, he was given only the most significant, arduous, challenging responsibility of ascending again, and everyone expected him to succeed effortlessly.

They believed they were helping him by freeing him of menial duties, but in doing so, they had set him up for failure. Ultimately, it was no surprise that he spiraled into a sense of frustration and despair.

Therefore, Nan Yang played a pivotal role in Xie Lian’s downfall. If he had listened to the crown prince for a moment instead of pushing him to ascend as fast as possible, the path of Xianle's entire history might have been altered.

-- For a moment, Mu Qing thought he saw Feng Xin and a brown-haired man, both extremely furious, by the doors of a trodden-down house, hurling grains of rice at him. And with a blink, he was back in the museum, with Feng Xin yelling at him. --

“At least I have a fucking heart!” Feng Xin retaliated. “Xuan Zhen left! He abandoned Nan Yang and Xie Lian because they were no use to him anymore!” he continued to accuse.

It was common knowledge that General Xuan Zhen had been the first to leave them to aid his near-blind mother. It left a sour taste in General Nan Yang’s mouth, adding many layers to their already complex animosity.

And Feng Xin could empathise with Nan Yang’s resentment towards Xuan Zhen. Where was Xuan Zhen’s loyalty? Xuan Zhen was a servant before Xie Lian noticed him. As a servant, especially one with a criminal father who had been executed, it was nearly impossible to progress beyond the life of a cleaning lackey.

Xie Lian had saved Xuan Zhen from a life of bowing before others and sweeping floors. Everything Xuan Zhen achieved later in life was because of Xie Lian’s kindness.

And yet, Xuan Zhen had returned the crown prince’s deeds by walking away when they needed him most.

“How can you trust a god who would leave you during your most trying times?” Feng Xin demanded as he challenged Mu Qing’s defiant scowl.

-- A flash of Mu Qing in plain traditional robes flashed through Feng Xin’s  mind. He could hear himself yelling, “Just admit you took one of His Highness’ earrings!” Mu Qing trembled and stared at the ground as though terrified of Feng Xin. 

“I didn’t steal it,” Mu Qing said quietly. He was sure if Mu Qing had cat ears, they would have folded back. It made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to soothe the feistiness back into Mu Qing. -- 

Mu Qing’s voice pulled him out of his daydream, and he faced an angry-looking Mu Qing who looked anything but afraid. 

“Xuan Zhen left because he couldn’t stand that Xie Lian refused to help himself!” Mu Qing argued back, infuriating Feng Xin again.

“How could he have stayed and watched his crown prince’s self-destruction?” Mu Qing spat as he prodded Feng Xin in the chest, causing the man to take a step back. “Xie Lian was beyond help. Neither Nan Yang nor Xuan Zhen could help him. What was the use of sticking the fuck around and enabling the crown prince in his self-fulfilling prophecy of self-destruction?”

“It’s called fucking loyalty! But what would a heartless person like you know about loyalty?” Feng Xin mocked.

“Blind loyalty gets you nowhere, you dumb oaf!”

Mu Qing didn't know why or how he could strongly empathise with Xuan Zhen’s feelings. These were not facts he read in books or journals, but he knew they were true. It was what drove General Xuan Zhen to leave his companions. He couldn't explain it, but he knew General Xuan Zhen couldn’t bear to watch his Crown Prince destroy himself. 

“He joined the heavens so he could help Xie Lian and Feng Xin ascend,” he yelled at Feng Xin. Feng Xin? Did he say Feng Xin or Nan Yang? He could feel the heat rising from his cheeks. Feng Xin riled him up like no other, and he didn't know why. The other man did not appear to notice the mistake.

Feng Xin roared, not caring that some passersby were now looking at them, “Xuan Zhen left! He left his crown prince. He abandoned Nan Yang to bear the burden of caring for the crown prince alone.

“Did you know how fucking lonely he felt after you left? To care for the royal family? By himself?” Feng Xin felt his fists clenching as anger fueled him. His thick brows furrowed in anger, glowering at the man in front of him. “After all they had gone through together and all the pain Bai Wu Xiang had caused them, the one person he thought he could rely on was you !”

“Get off your fucking high horse, Feng Xin. Your beloved General Nan Yang left too,” Mu Qing huffed. “Xuan Zhen left to find help and a way to get the crown prince back into heaven.

“And what did Nan Yang do? He left his precious crown prince for a hooker,” he hissed, his red face grimacing. “He ran into the arms of a hooker and sired a ghost child with her!”

“Jian Lan was not a hooker!” Feng Xin snarled, stepping back into Mu Qing’s space. Mu Qing had no right to call Jian Lan in such a disrespectful way. Jian Lan was the only person who listened to Nan Yang while he cared for Xie Lian and the King and Queen alone. 

After Xuan Zhen left, Nan Yang found Jian Lan, a former noblewoman who worked at a brothel after the fall of Xianle. He tried to rescue her with the bit of money he had, but all the bodyguard could afford was an hour of her time. He had poured out all of his frustrations and loneliness to her in that hour, and she had listened .

No one ever listened to him. Xuan Zhen had abandoned them, Xie Lian had his demons to face, and he couldn't expect the King and Queen to lend an ear to his problems. He had been so lonely that all it took for him to fall in love, or what he believed was love at the time, was for someone to listen to him talk.

And one night, Jian Lan initiated a physical relationship with him which he welcomed in his desperation for touch. The next day, she left him. It pained him considerably, but he knew Jian Lan deserved a better life than with someone who couldn't afford to buy her out of a brothel. 

When the kingdom of Xianle had fallen, he felt cracks along his heart, and when Xuan Zhen left, he held on to his breaking heart with both arms as long as he could. By that point, all it took was a little nudge from Jian Lan to shatter it into pieces.

Eight hundred years after he had ascended, he discovered that she had died in childbirth with his child. Cuocuo never made it full term and lacked proper human features, resulting in the child’s deformed looks. The mother and child pair lingered on as ghosts in the mortal realm.

It crushed him.

“She was kind and nice, and she deserved better. She did the best she could,” Feng Xin whispered. A strong pang of sorrow surged through his chest as he imagined Jian Lan alone, as a ghost, looking for their deformed ghost child for centuries.

Loneliness was not a fate he would curse even on his worst enemy. 

He understood the despair of loneliness when Xuan Zhen left.

“He wished Xuan Zhen stayed. I know he did,” he added as he looked into Mu Qing’s eyes with an unfocused gaze as if he were elsewhere instead of in a museum arguing with Mu Qing. “Nan Yang was so lonely after Xuan Zhen left.”

Feng Xin swore he could remember a gentle face so clearly. He didn’t know why, but he did, and it felt right. Their face sharp was fair, and their lips were thin and pink. It reminded him of Mu Qing, except the Mu Qing he remembered had his hair up, held together by a traditional hairpiece, a guan . The Mu Qing in his mind always looked melancholic. 

Mu Qing could only blink as he was taken aback by Feng Xin’s sudden rage and gloom. The heavy tension Feng Xin emanated made him uncomfortable.

He blurted out the first thing that sprang to him, “At least Xuan Zhen could think of a better name than Nan Feng! So fucking inventive of him to combine Nan Yang and…” Feng Xin? Mu Qing paused at the thought. Why would he think it was Feng Xin? 

Oblivious to Mu Qing’s dilemma, Feng Xin shouted back, “Nan Feng wasn't the one that ran back to the Heavenly Capital the moment he found out Hua Cheng was at Mount Yujun with Dianxia!”

“He was getting reinforcements! Did you expect two clones to defeat a Supreme Ghost?” Mu Qing resisted the urge to kick his opponent in the shins. Feng Xin was so. fucking. annoying.

“Hua Cheng wasn't the enemy!”

“No one knew at that time, genius!”

“Well, Xuan Zhen hit Nan Yang in the head and left him to die when the Heavenly Capital was burning down!” Feng Xin fumed, refusing to back down. Instead, he crossed his arms across his chest.

“He was trying to save your sorry ass, you dumb fuck!” Mu Qing, infuriated, shoved Feng Xin, causing him to stumble back, almost crashing into the glass display behind him.

Once Feng Xin got his footing back, he lifted his fists, ready to throw a heavy punch onto Mu Qing’s smug face— 

“Gentlemen,” a pleasant voice interrupted their argument. A tall man in a crimson shirt and a black monocle smiled at them, and small pointy fangs peered from his lips.  

Feng Xin lowered his arms, and Mu Qing took a step back. They turned to the tall newcomer. The man’s arrogant gaze on them was unsettling.

Next to him was a shorter man with long light brown hair and a pleasant smile. The brown-haired man remained silent, allowing his partner to lead to conversation.

“Mr. Feng, Mr. Mu, we hope you’ve enjoyed our collections.” The tall man chuckled. The man spoke with an arrogant drawl. “Not many get to see our private pieces. The ones in designated private rooms are only for our special guests,”

“You're the collectors?" Mu Qing furrowed his eyebrows, surprised to learn that the collectors of such precious relics were two young men no older than him or Feng Xin.

Feng Xin pursed his lips and remained silent, not daring to disrupt a conversation between historians. He would never be again mention his YouTube expertise in a museum or other historical site. Or ever.

“You may call me Hua, and this is my partner, Xie,” the tall man wrapped his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Our collections... have been in the family for centuries,” Hua added with a bone-chilling smirk. “How about we show you the last piece from our private collections?

“It’s a rare piece you two might appreciate. Considering your heated discussions, you must be big fans of Generals Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen,” he beamed. His companion smiled even wider next to him without saying a word, seemingly jumpy and excited for reasons neither Mu Qing nor Feng Xin could guess.

The four made their way towards another room hidden behind drapes. 

On the wall hung one painting of two gods in red.

Mu Qing's eyes widened, and he held his breath at the sight, while Feng Xin could only stare with his jaw agape.

Generals Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen were looking at each other in the oil painting, while hundreds of warm-colored lanterns floated in the night sky behind them. Nan Yang, in red robes with gold embroidery, smiled brilliantly at Xuan Zhen till his eyes squinted with joy. While Xuan Zhen had a soft gaze as if his said-to-be rival was the only thing in the world in his eyes. 

Happiness was the only word fit to describe it. 

“It’s a rare piece, a portrait of the two generals on their wedding day. You two are the first we’ve invited to view it,” Hua said in a friendly tone while his single eye scrutinised Feng Xin and Mu Qing. “If I may say, the resemblance between the two gods and you two gentlemen is uncanny,”

Feng Xin shifted uncomfortably at the remark and glanced at Mu Qing, whose usually pale expression now had a deep blush.

“It is said that as they lost their worshippers over time, they died together in each other’s arms,” the man chimed while his partner nodded solemnly at his commentary. “A natural phenomenon for gods. Their lives as immortals were only sustained by the beliefs of their worshippers.”

— Feng Xin felt deep anguish seeping through his body as he saw Mu Qing’s red and teary face looking down at him. It felt like a dream. He could feel Mu Qing cupping his face softly with two trembling hands. “Don’t be sad,” he heard himself whisper. “It’ll be fine.” —-

The monocled man’s commentary broke his dream, yet the feelings of sorrow in his chest remained. He turned to face Mu Qing, who appeared to be facing his internal battles. It was apparent that Mu Qing's eyes were brighter from holding back tears.

“General Nan Yang passed first in General Xuan Zhen’s arms. And General Xuan Zhen’s last believer died less than a shichen later, so he took his final breath with his lover’s warm body still embraced in his arms,” Hua added.

-- At those words, Mu Qing felt a sudden pang of sadness as he saw Feng Xin lying in his arms, eyes closed, and chest unmoving. “I’ll be joining you soon,” he heard his hoarse voice say with a forced smile. --

With a blink, Mu Qing could only hold back tears as the vision faded while the sadness lingered in his chest.

“Many believed that they reincarnated together as lovers again in their next life,” the tall man added with a smirk before walking out of the room hand in hand with his partner. “We’ll leave the two of you to enjoy this piece.”

Mu Qing stood in place and continued to fix his gaze on the painting of the two happy gods as a million thoughts raced through his mind, all related to Feng Xin and Nan Yang. He couldn't explain it, but he knew there was more to Feng Xin than met the eye. Had they met in the past? Was he an acquaintance that Mu Qing had forgotten over the years? Did Feng Xin lie? Had they been in college together studying history? Was that why he kept seeing Feng Xin as Nan Yang?

Before he could contemplate more, he heard footsteps approaching him, and Feng Xin softly spoke from behind him, "Mu Qing."

As Mu Qing turned to face him with a complex expression, Feng Xin couldn't fathom the emotions coursing through him. All the jumbled recollections, visions, or whatever they were were confusing. But he knew that, at this moment, he wanted Mu Qing, a haughty stranger he met today, to smile again. To not be sad anymore. 

To let him know that he would always be with him. 

Feng Xin didn't want Mu Qing to leave him again and didn't wish Mu Qing to lose him once more.

There had been enough pain. 

He reached out to Mu Qing’s shoulder as he gazed into dark eyes with a smile, “I’m here.”

Mu Qing’s heart felt full at those simple words. It felt incredulous that a mere stranger could incite such intense emotions, but Feng Xin didn’t feel like a stranger. He never did. Feng Xin was no stranger to Mu Qing since the moment he spilled coffee on him. Feng Xin felt familiar . 

“Let’s… get to know each other,” Feng Xin tightened his grip on Mu Qing’s shoulders, his heart beating faster in anticipation of Mu Qing’s reply. 

Mu Qing, whose face was still red and overwhelmed with emotions, could only nod in agreement. 

Feng Xin lowered his hand from Mu Qing’s shoulder to grasp his hand instead and led him out of the room.

_____________________________

The monocled Hua and the long-haired Xie greeted them with smiles as they exited the room. However, while Xie’s seemed genuine in his beaming expression, Hua’s arrogant smile held more arrogance than sincerity.

“Ah, by the way, gentlemen, did you enjoy my private paintings? Of course, the four big ones are my most prized possessions,” he drawled.

Mu Qing scowled at the reminder, and Feng Xin held back bile down his throat. 

Xie finally spoke, with a pleasant voice, “Dear, which paintings are you talking about?” He looked at his partner with expressive eyes and so much affection it could not be mistaken as anything but love. 

“Oh, just one of the usual Crown Prince’s paintings, Gege,” Hua replied while looking at the other two. “You know they’re all special to me.”

Feng Xin swore he saw a red glint through the monocle. 

“Thank you for showing us your collection. We really appreciate it,” Mu Qing said, still holding on to Feng Xin’s hand. Then, finally, he pulled a smiling Feng Xin with him towards the exit without looking back, eager to leave their two new unconventional acquaintances. 

“And Mr. Mu, that is a wonderful design on your shirt!” Hua yelled out while his partner waved enthusiastically. “Looks like Qi Rong’s crap,” he added once Mu Qing and Feng Xin were out of sight. 

Xie asked his partner, “San Lang, do you think those two have realized it?” 

“Gege, I doubt it. Those two are unbelievably stupid,” Hua Cheng replied. “But don't worry, if they don't soon, I’ll knock their heads together to make them kiss and remember.”

His partner laughed in response, full of glee in his eyes, “Who do you think we’ll get to see next?”

“Tsk, I think it’s Ming Guang, the God of Venereal Diseases, Gege.”

—end—

A/N:

This is my first ever work for a fandom event, and of course, it had to be for FENGQING WEEK 2022 (Thanks, Pammy!)

Big big thanks to Vera and Bae for beta-ing, Zeri for all the support, and everyone else in the FengQing server for the encouragement to keep writing <3

Seriously, I wouldn't have completed it if it wasn't for you guys!

[slashingdisneypasta]

That sign thing would totally be offender, reader, and Trenderman. He has both the sass and the empathy, and he'd be dead serious lmao

Omggggggggggg, you're soo right XDD Trender needing to protect the nice reader from his horrid brother is too sweet XD Trender is about to bonk Offender in the head with the sign if he does not get up off that knee, too-

Here are some more Creepypasta ones! They're all reader based ones 😅

Offender, Reader, Slender

Offender, Reader, Splender

Offender, Reader, (ANYONE)

Offender, (ANYONE), (ANYONE)- Lets just leave it at that XD

Slender, Reader, Offender (Don't do it Y/N, don't do it to yourself. Not with that sourpuss)

Jeff, Reader, Jane (Jeff doe snot deserve happiness???)

Toby, Reader, Masky

Masky, Reader, Toby

BEN, Reader, Jeff (He's just bein an asshole friend)

(Anyone), (Anyone), Laughing Jack (cOMMITMENT??? NO DONT DO IT- )

Toby, Reader, Clockwork (Don't you dare, Y/N, don't you dare)

Slender, Reader, Zalgo (You just try it, bitch- Zalgo has been coveting Slender for CENTURIES, so you just try to say yes it and see what happens- )

Reader, Candy Cane, Candy Pop

Bonus:

Nina, Reader, Jeff (Except his sign says 'YES DEAR GOD SAY YES')

(The Horror Villain List)

[seventhegodsblog]

Me all flustered having a hard time breathing also

Offenderman laughing: are you okay?

Splendorman from across the house: I HAVE A BAG FOR YOU TO BREATH!

Slenderman: seven this is the only time in worried for you because you have lung problems. I will get your inhaler.

Trendedman: WTF OFFENDER WHY DID YOU SHOW THEM THAT IMAGE!?

Offender man laughing and wheezing: I thought it would be funny!

Splendorman still trying to find the bag: WELL IT ISN’T NICE BECAUSE THEIR NOT FEELING SO GOOD!

Slenderman: *hands me my inhaler helping me inhale the meds* better?

Me: yes. Thank you slender. Also offenderman im gonna get payback you son of a bitch.

Offenderman: How!?

Me: I don’t know but I’ll find a way.

Offenderman looking down at me: damn your short. I could just [rejected long beep]

Me curled up into a ball on the floor banging my fist into the floor excepting my defeat

The rest of the brothers standing there to stunned to speak

Offenderman: HAH! HOLY SHIT THAT WAS SO EASY TO GET YOU GOING AGAIN HAHAHAHA!

Me looking up smirking

Offenderman: oh your back up~

Me: I swear to got if you don’t stop I will [long rejected beep] and make sure you stay there suffering.

Offenderman:…………………..

The rest of the brothers more stunned then before

Offenderman: bet!- AAAAAAHHHH!!

And that day offenderman lost his dignity not like he had a lot left but, he lost it.

P.S. no I don’t put canon offenderman in these things. I make my own version because canon offender is trashy and needs to f🦆cking burn.

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

-

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

-

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

-

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

-

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​​ @weird-mumbling​​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​​ @mostly-marvel-musings​​ @squishybabies​​ @megzdoodle​​ @suchababie​​ @annathesillyfriend​​ @xhollycowx​​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​​ @gogolucky13​​ @countonthesun​​ @iloveshawnieboi​​ @learisa​​ @borikenlove​​ @scarlet-natasha89​​

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​​ @jessou893​​ @stealapizzamyheart​​ @bagelofthelord​​ @mxnt​​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​​ @ohladymacbeth​​ @wildflowergubler​​ @supraveng​​ @twinerd14​​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​​ @charminivy​​ @amelia-song-pond​​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​​ @tcc-gizmachine​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @prettyintopeerpressure​​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[celestialarchon]

Polaroids

NSFW | Xiao x female reader smut | 18+

warnings: rough sex, teasing, degradation/slight humiliation, dirty talk.

grammar is imperfect. deal with it. this is my first smut post so it might not be great!

“ah, where i’m from we call these polaroids,” your eyes were bright as you pointed to the photos spread across Xiao’s room in Wangshu Inn.

Xiao grunted in response, annoyed by your focus on this silly kurious kamera. You’d spent over a week adventuring and taking photos to fix the stupid kamera. He wanted your attention but you were still focused on the silly bits of photography. You turned to him holding out a kamera, beaming.

“this mortal contraption is useless to me,” Xiao scowled but took it from your hands.

“eh?” you turned to him a bit offended by his tone, frowning. “it’s to capture the memory of such pretty things. if you don’t want it, it’s fine but i don’t need two. there’s no need to be so cranky.”

Of course, you had noticed his pouting before but thought showing him the pretty little polaroids would lighten his mood. You stood to grab and your bag and gather your photos but were stopped by the yaksha’s cold grip on your wrist, he pulled you close to him and placed your old kamera on his bed to free his other hand. Xiao’s eyes were dark as he looked down at you, he sighed and gently kissed your forehead. It was seemingly innocent but you knew by the look in his eyes you were in trouble and you could feel your heart beating quickly and excitement building in you. His lips moved down the side of your face as he held you against him tight, trailing down to your neck. You pressed your lips together as he found your sweet spot and sucked gently. He hummed, gripping your waist tighter and using his free hand to summon just enough energy to tear the clothes from your body. In one swift movement he pulled rope off a nearby table and bound your hands, pushing you down before what he’d done could register in your mind.

Blush crept up your face as you lay on the floor in shock. He smirked down at you, seeing you surrounded by the photos that had kept you busy from him. He adored how flustered and helpless you looked. You scowled, knowing he was enjoying this far too much but unable to control the growing heat in your core. You felt weak, just knowing he was going to do all sorts of lewd things to you. Xiao picked up the kamera he’d thrown on the bed and turned to you with lust filled eyes, letting out a growl.

“to capture the memory of pretty things,” Xiao held the box gently and chuckled as he clicked the button, “so damn pretty.”

Before you could stop yourself you whimpered in embarrassment and protest, trying to wiggle free of your bindings but Xiao noticed. He tossed the kamera on the bed once again, and pounced on you. His hands were firm, holding you down as his hungry lips met yours. He swept his tongue across your bottom lip, wanting to explore and overwhelm you. When you didn’t give him immediate access, he spread your legs rubbing his knee on your heat. Your lips parted in shock and pleasure and he slipped his tongue in the cavern of your mouth. You gave up on fighting him, allowing him to take your lips aggressively and trembling as he continued to grind his knee on your core. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you still and smirked again at your panting.

“Already so worked up?” he titled his head and moved his rough hands to your chest, massaging your breasts, “hm, i can’t wait to capture how pretty you look when i’m done with your pathetic body.”

Xiao pulled away from your body just a bit leaned down, kissing your neck and chest gently, his hands creeping towards your core. You whimpered as his fingers brushed the bud and he growled, sinking his teeth into your neck and sucking. A loud moan escaped you and it set a feral part of him off. He slammed two fingers into you, leaving dark marks all over your body. He was ruthless, pushing his slender fingers in and out of your wetness quickly and forcefully, ravishing the whimpers and moans that erupted from you. The erotic noises you made under him only made him want to work you over more. He pulled away from your skin watching your every move as he slipped in a third finger.

Xiao relished in the scene before him. The way you were so helpless and submissive, tied up under him. Your moans spurred his dark lust on further. He knew you were his and he could do what he pleased with you. He leaned down murmuring in your ear how slutty and pathetic you looked for him. He was so hard but containing himself solely so he could teach you a lesson. A lesson to never ignore him or be distracted from, especially for silly mortal things. He grinned feeling you tighten around him but never stopped.

“X-Xiao,” you could barely speak as his fingers never stopped and you were close again, “please ah kiss!”

Xiao merely rolled his eyes and kissed your forehead.

“n-n-no!! kiss hnng lips!” you demanded.

He laughed darkly, spreading your legs further and moving down. Kissing and biting your thighs, he curled his fingers in you again.

“ah! n-no,” you protested but he didn’t listen.

Never once slowing the movement of digits in you, he kissed your bud. You squirmed but he ignored you, licking up your slit. His tongue soon was devouring you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive spot. His eyes never left you as you threw your head back and became nothing but a moaning mess. Only when he saw drool running down your chin tears in your eyes did he slow down, removing his fingers and smashing his lips onto yours. Seeing the tears in yours eyes set him off and he couldn’t wait any more.

Xiao’s lips left yours and you were suddenly turned over, ass in the air. He growled and slammed into you with no mercy, thrusting into you as you cried out. You had no time to adjust to him but the pain of his large member was quickly replaced with pleasure.

“how dare you ignore me for a fucking week?” he pulled you back by your hair, “do you know how mad that makes me you fucking bitch?”

You couldn’t speak as his hand gripped your hip roughly pulling you onto his cock. He let go of your hair and moved his hand to your throat, growling as he pounded you mercilessly. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you came. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, not slowing as you screamed in a haze of pleasure.

“Ha,” his voice was dark and rumbling in your ear “you really are so pretty taking my cock like this angel. so cute when your cunt is a mess like this. you’re such a slut for me aren’t you?”

Your vision blurred from tears and pleasure, drunk on lust you could only cry out as he railed you. His thrusts were sloppier and he started to grind his cock into you as he bit down on your neck roughly. Drool ran down your chin again as he filled you up, grunting. Even so, he continued to thrust into you. His feral noises and endless stamina only turned you on more. He shoved your head down to the floor and gripped your hips tighter, fucking you with inhuman force.

“You like that don’t you? Yeah, look at your pretty little cunt filled up with my cum and my cock.” His words were rough.

The overstimulation was too much. All you could do was take it as he fucked you from behind, releasing inside you repeatedly.

“How cute, you don’t think i’m done with you do you you whore?” He smirked as your eyes rolled back and you came again.

Xiao fucked you until he thought you’d fall unconscious. He sighed pulling out of you, grabbing the kamera for the last time. the device that started it all. he glanced at your messy body, ass still in the air with juices dripping down your thighs and puddling below you. still tied up with your hands behind your back and dark marks littered your body from where he had bitten you. your cheeks were read and stained with tear marks. he smirked and pressed the button.

“to capture the prettiest memories” he muttered and picked you up, knowing he needed to care for you now, “such a good pretty girl, i love you.”

you could only nod in response.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can we get Toby, Jeff and Offender engaging in delinquent tomfoolery with their S/O?

I just want you to know when you sent this in the phrase "delinquent tomfoolery" made my day, I laughed so fucking much

A l s o- I do not condone breaking any laws or being mischievous to that extent, it's just for this ask. Tried to keep this lighthearted and not so illegal/violent.

Toby:

Might be a curveball and come as a surprise, but spray painting. That's right, good old vandalism with Toby. I headcanon him as the sort to like art as a way to express his emotions, and I think sometimes he gets really destructive tendencies, and he takes care of it by spray painting art all over a bunch of shit. He'll sneak around with you, a big bag of spray paint cans toated on his shoulder, and he'll take you somewhere discreet. He doesn't mind if you work together or if you each do separate things, or even if you don't paint at all. It's just so nice to have your company, and he always melts inside when you say he did a good job.

Jeff:

Anyone down for some pranks? Because that's what you'll be getting into with Jeffery here. Jeff is a PETTY bitch and he takes it out on everyone he knows, and you get to tag along for the ride. Some douchebag down the street pissed him off? Hope he likes the new vulgar paint job on his car. Some punks on the other side of town tried fucking with Jeff again? Hope they enjoy spoiled eggs thrown all over their house and vehicles. Those are a few lighter examples, but Jeff will absolutely fight fire with fire, and he won't stop until the person gets the hint and stops being an asshole. You just get to come along and witness all his pettiness and laugh.

Offender:

Another one that pulls pranks, this time in his familial relations. If Offender really likes one thing, it's pissing off his siblings, and my god does he have a lot of fun with that. Like with Jeff, if they piss HIM off in any way, it's payback time. Switching out Slender's favorite coffee beans with the lower quality ones he hates, misplacing all of Trender's favorite sewing supplies, even baby brother Splendor isn't safe from his wrath, having his bright and colorful wardrobe completely replaced with dull, colorless clothes. They're small, sure, but the frustrations from those small things just keep building up over time, and with you on his side to sneak around in secret for him, it just gets so much easier.

[minshookie]

All Play, No Work.

Pairing | CEO!Yoongi x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret relationship with Yoongi is all smooth sailing,until Mrs Kim gets in the way.”

!warnings! | mature language, workplace bullying, gossip, and infidelity. Also some pretty steamy scenes, for readers 18+.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 2k.

A/N | “I’m so happy you enjoyed “meetings at midnight.” I never really expected over 100 notes that’s crazy! I may have gotten a little carried away with this one but I hope you don’t mind & enjoy it as well. I’ll probably be making a part 2, please take any mistakes as love ❤️”

The disturbing rattle of the air conditioner served as white noise while you toyed with the drooping noodles swimming in the savory sauce placed before you. A few of your coworkers droned on about their plans, their kids and undeserving husbands leaving you alone in the corner of the depressing break room to think about what to expect when getting back to your cubicle. Which was a little less depressing than the powder white painted room you resided in now.

“Y/L/N, Min is asking for you.” The conversations stopped and all three of us looked up into the door frame. Jimin,Yoongi's assistant stood with his hands buried in his stiffly pressed pants pockets. “I-I’m on lunch.” You slowly went back to your lukewarm meal, taking a few noodles into your mouth. Chewing, You waited for the heavy pitter patter of his polished leather loafers to exit, but You never get what you wish for.

“Y/N, please don’t make me have to run back up there just to run back down here and tell you the same thing….c’mon.” He came closing your tupperware, sighing as you pushed it into your lunch bag, embarrassment growing on your features as he stood over you. The stare of nosey coworkers followed as you stepped out of the bland break room. The clacking of Jimin’s shoes found your nerves rather quickly, closely he walked behind you like a school principal making sure you went where instructed.

Taking you past your cubicle to leave your lunch you could almost taste the jealousy being thrown at you like missiles. Disapproving and confused whispers and glares followed you out the area. Reaching the stairs, out of sight of your colleagues you out ran Jimin, the looks, noises and scoffs getting the best of you. You practically threw yourself through yoongi's door, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Hey! hey! Bunny, got here quickly didn’t you?” He walked over locking his loyal assistant out. Falling back on the couch struggling for your breath, closing your eyes, you heard him walk around you. “I told you I’d see you after work, we’d have all night together.” Sighing, he pulls you up by your arms. With a grunt he sat down and replaced your head on his lap. “I know what you said, but did you really think I was going to wait...why should i?” Opening your eyes you met his soft gaze. “Tell me you love me.” He whispers, almost ashamed in himself. Needy, needy,needy,always needy. “This can’t be why you called me in.”

“Why should I?” You laughed, obviously he didn’t share your sense of humor as he tugged harshly on a strand of your hair. “Well if I didn’t love you I’d quit Yoongi.” Rolling over you cuddled into his soft tummy inhaling his masculin scent, this here under him locked in his dim office was your safe place. “No you wouldn’t, I pay you too much.” He murmured petting your back with his large hands. “As if!” You giggled into his tummy, pulling back to look up at your lover. His signature smile displayed on his features, moving his hands from your back he places his limber fingers at the back of your knee. Locking eyes he slid skillfully under your skirt to massage your ass over your panties. “Who were you hiding from today hm?” Groaning you rolled your eyes, you hate how he knows you so well.

“Kim?” “Mrs Kim is the least of my worries now.” You grimaced playing with his buttons. “Mm good, can't be the new girl, maybe her boyfriend?” Your eyes shot open, “boyfriend?! Who?” He planted this topic in the conversation, knowing your interest in the drama of your workplace. “Yeah, she’s running around with the coffee boy.” Laughing, he cut himself off “Jungkook.” He laughed almost uncontrollably. “That’s so cute since when?!” He hums calming down, “uh since about last month, I’ve been watching them get all close and flirty jeon puts extra cream in her coffee, she blushes blah blah. And you know Jimin is the nosiest person in the population of this place.”

You chuckled Nodding in agreeance “learned that way before you did, he was my cubicle neighbor before he was your assistant.” Sitting up you go to his drink cart to grab a bottle of water. “Yeah they’re cute as long as they stay on task, Answer the question though, who’s bothering my baby hm? I hate seeing you that way.” He comes from behind gliding his hands around your front pulling you into his embrace “you have a whole cafeteria in the next wing, I made sure they served your favorite today, and yet you chose the shitty break closet.” His rambling turns into background noise as you look through the one way window. Watching as your coworkers attended their duties, Jungkook balanced coffees in his arms with skill the new girl watched in admiration...I wonder what he’s actually here for.

Yoongi’s breath fans your neck causing you to shiver against him. “I’m sorry what’d you say?” “You’re ok.” He turns you around swiftly kissing you passionately against the glass obviously you’ve missed something. Though unseen the act feels extremely dirty. Dropping your water you cling to his shoulders, legs around his Slender waist. “You're not paying me to make out with you I hope.” He pecks your nose, gnawing his bottom lip. “Huh looks like I am.” “Ah, as tempting as that sounds Yoongs-” “don’t ever call me that.” He nips at your neck in retaliation. “I have a stack of papers on my desk that Mr Jimin has been beating me over the head about.” Groaning he loosens his grip around you. Letting you gather yourself before going to his door.

“I’ll see you tonight yeah?” Pouting,he came kissing your lips once more. “I’ll be waiting.” He opened the door and watched you strut down the stairs.

Getting back to your respectful area, you notice something was off...where’d your lunch go? You could’ve sworn you threw it on your desk. Pulling out the rolling chair to take a seat, “I’ll find it later.” You whispered to yourself,taking a seat, directly in the cold remains of your lunch. “What the fuck!” A wave of laughter was given with your ill response. Noodles dangled from your backside as you turned to look at the mess on your office chair.

“Okay! What are we a bunch of middle school virgins?” Jimin shouted, his face turning a dark shade of peach. “I’m sorry y/n.” Rolling your eyes you tried to keep back tears of utter embarrassment turning away from you colleagues. “Uhm...it’s pretty bad, do you have anything to change into?” He takes off his styled coat and hands it to you. You can’t process over the harsh giggles and whispers, “yeah like I have a closet in my car, Jimin I don’t have shit to put on!” You hiss making him pull an offended expression.

“I could give you something.” Your head snapped in the direction of the quiet new girl in the far corner. “I have a few dresses in car I-I I’m in the process of…” she scans the room unsure of her words “moving.” You offer a smile to cover how distraught you are, unable to respond correctly. “Thank you luci, we appreciate it.” Nodding she smiles softly grabbing her bag going to retrieve the clothes. “Go to the restroom, please.”

Tying the coat around your waist you rushed with your head down to the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself roughly. Taking off the grey coat Turing to examine your soup covered ass. You brushed the cold noodles letting them splat onto the tiled floor. Pulling coat off the conjoined sinks you found the spacious stall at the end of the row, stripping off your soiled skirt. Nothing better to do, but to sit on the cold stool and wait.

The creaking door of the bathroom cut your silent thoughts short, isn’t Luci a quick one? You chuckled to yourself getting up, about to tell her of your whereabouts…“maybe if the bitch didn’t have her head so far up Min’s ass she woulda saw it coming.” The unknown voice stopped you in your tracks. Her friend snickers. “Shh she could be in here.” “As if I give a fuck, she needs to know!” Peeking through the side of the stall you could see them in the mirror touching up their makeup. “Min’s probably got his head up hers too!” The quieter of the two spoke up.

“Ha that would explain my recent hours, I heard they fuck in the office, I wonder if the sluts any good.” She cleaned the edges of her lipstick, “I’ve fucked him, I know he’s good, really into all the rough shit, he’s crazy.” She tossed her makeup into her bag fixing her hair, “why’d you guys stop?” You felt your chest ache, yoongi never told you about him and Mrs Kim, what kind of fucked story is this? “Little miss pasta booty got the job, and Joon finally proposed...guess he didn’t want me any-” “y/n are you in here?!” Luci’s softened voice searched for you.

“I’m in here.” Responding slightly above a whisper, the soft steps of her pumps were trampled by the clicking steps of the two mud slingers who quickly bursted from the restroom. “I didn’t know what you would like, I have this blue one, it’s a cute summer dress.” She hung it on the door of the stall for me to see. “Or this white one, it’s a bit tighter but I think it’ll look great on you.” Randomly choosing you stripped of your top pulling the dress over yourself. “Thanks Luci, I owe you one.” Collecting your clothes and Jimin’s coat, you left the stall. “No no, I’m sorry Kim did that to you...I should’ve stopped her.” She coyly hangs her head, “not your fault...thanks Luci.” She smiles politely, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

Eunji That jealous bitch, yoongi has much explaining to do. You smooth out your dress bracing yourself for the environment behind the door. only to be pushed back. A deep blush pink shade covering his face, yoongi brings you back in, “you can’t be in here, this is the ladies.” He scans your body before looking at the dirty laundry in your arms. “This is my building. I can be anywhere in any room I want.” Scoffing you attempt to leave, grabbing your forearm he pulls you back. “What’s going on with you I’m here to check and see if you’re alright and here you are acting like an ass y/n” his face held a concerned stare.

“Yoongi the last thing we should be doing is huddling in the bathroom, we’ve drawn enough attention to ‘us’ already.” Unable to look him in the eyes you examine his posture, he propped your chin on his pointer finger bringing your face up. “And since when did you care?” “Ever since your ex painted my ass with my lunch.” He giggled darkly, “what?” Again you attempted escape, only to be overpowered and lifted with ease. “Okay sit the fuck down.” Placing you down in the sink like a child he took your skirt looking at the back. “And this just had to be the one I bought?.” He shook his head like a disappointed father. “What are you acting so mad towards me for, who’s supposedly my ex huh?” He took the skirt under the faucet scrubbing it harshly together with soap.

Why can’t he ever just leave you alone, drawing attention to your relationship was the last thing you needed today. It’s not like nobody knew, it was hard not to. But you hated the unwanted attention the favoritism brought you. “Who lied to you?” “You did.” He stopped the water, “y/n now you know I’d never.” He folded the cleaned wet skirt along with your shirt. “Yoongi, I heard Kim Eunji talking about it. She told her little follower about it while I hid in the stall.” You answered blandly, ready to be freed from the bathroom. His face shifted shades, “what? I’ve never fucked that bitch, all she does is lie and get into shit she has no concern for.” He gripped the sink roughly.

Like a switch, when the right buttons were pushed Yoongi’s temper was quick to strike….though never thrown at you. It can have harsh outcomes and you've seen it first hand. “She runs her mouth about you too much, I’ll have to help her out.” Aggressively released the marble counter, “Yoongi w-what, calm down.” He walked to the door, unsure of what to do. Naive of his wrath you followed behind. “She wants to get fucked? I’ll give her something that’ll fuck her up, something that’ll make her piss off for good this time.”

Not my image

[kittenkuroo]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐜𝐰: 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

It was always an itching urge within Rintarou’s heart. He wanted to find the perfect girl, so kind and innocent, and ruin everything she thought she knew about herself. He wanted to see her shaking and crying because of his fingers, his dick. Rintarou wanted to break down a girl until she was completely pliable and at his mercy.

It was fucked up, he could even admit it. He knew that it was a twisted thought inside his pretty head. But the thought of corrupting someone so perfect made his whole body go tingly.

Rintarou had no luck for the first couple of years he was in college. All of the girls he had the displeasure of meeting were whores and sluts in his mind, all-knowing how to suck dick and roll their bodies on top of his. He was starting to get tired of all of their experience. 

Rintarou began to give up on his twisted perversion.

Then he laid his eyes on you.

So cute, huddled in the corner of the frat party, hands gripping at the bottom of your tiny skirt. Your pretty eyes were darting back and forth as people walked by you. Suna gave a small chuckle, hands gripping his red cup in excitement. He could see it in your eyes. 

You were finally something he could corrupt.

“You new to these things? I live in this frat house so this is an everyday thing for me,” You jump when you feel the hot breath of a stranger tickle your neck. He had snuck up on you, “What’s your name?”

You nod your head as you stutter out a response, “Y-yeah... I’ve never been to a party before and my friend ditched me,” You lick your lips as you finally lay your eyes on the guy beside you. He was pretty with black hair framing his face, smoky eyeliner lining his lids, and rings adorning his long fingers, “My name is Y/N. You?”

He chuckles, “Suna Rintarou. You can call me Rin,” He leans down closer to your ear, “What a crappy friend you have, leaving a little lamb like you all alone. Wanna hang out together?”

“Yeah,” You feel a smile creeping up on your face, happy someone was at least talking to you, “We can hang out.”

Your newfound friend offers a hand to you and you look at him inquisitively, “Let’s go up to my room so we can get to know each other... Y/N.”

You weren’t sure if this was the best of ideas but it was better than waiting around for your friend to stop making out with random guys. At least with this, you wouldn’t look like a loser, out of place. So, naturally, you took Rintarou’s slender hand and let him lead you up to his room.

His room was standard, with dark red walls with random piles of clothes scattered on the floor and a couple of movie posters lining his walls. His bed was neatly made while his desk was scattered with textbooks and pens. It was just a normal room, for some reason that consoled your worrying heart a bit.

“What do you major in?” You find yourself asking the most common question in college. Rintarou grabs a textbook and hands it to you.

“Psychology.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, “I wouldn’t take you for a psychology major,” It immediately sounded bad as soon as you heard it. Your head shoots up to look at the amused man as panic sets in, “I-I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so sorry-”

His hands land on your angular shoulders, instantly shutting you up, “It’s okay, baby girl,” The nickname makes you shudder in his hands while a sadistic smile creeps on his face, “But, how will you make it up to me? You kinda offended me when you said that...” His voice was slow and low making a small blush appear on your face.

You swallow, “I’ll do a-anything,” Rintarou bites his lip, “I’m sorry, Rin.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” You respond.

It wasn’t a surprise that you found yourself laying down on his bed with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt, pressing new spots and making you feel like you never have before. Your shirt was lifted up just above your breasts with your bra pushed up as well. The sight was making Rintarou’s mouth water. Your face was so adorable, flushed, and starting to break out a sweat.

“Stop tensing,” His hands slap at your thigh, causing your hips to jump, “And stop this stupid jumping shit. Stay fucking still.” He grabs your hips roughly, pinning them to the bed, much to your demise. You couldn't meet the thrust of his fingers like that.

You let out a harsh groan when his fingers prod at that certain spot that makes you see stars, “C-can’t, hng, help it... feel so good.” Rintarou had you right where he wanted you. You were starting to pant like a bitch in heat and the words you were mumbling made no sense to his sane ears.

He was starting to get you fucked out and you hadn't even cummed yet. Rintarou continued pushing his long fingers in your gummy walls. The way you were writhing around just because of his fingers almost made him want to laugh.

This was perfect.

“Rin,” You let out a particularly hard moan while your hand slaps down on his shoulder, grip making him wince, “Gonna... gonna cum. Please, please, let me cum.” Your hips were shuddering as he continued his assault on your walls. Eyes rolled up in your skull, hair plastered to your forehead, and your whole body shaking with pleasure. Rintarou had never seen such a pretty sight.

“Cum for me, baby girl.”

Those simple words had you allowing yourself to fully let go of the pent-up feeling in your stomach. All of your hearing went as white-hot pleasure spread through your body. Your muscles hurt from tensing up so much but you couldn’t help but to tense more, milking as much pleasure from this experience as you possibly could.

You look down to see Rin with a satisfied smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but smile at the sight, chest filling with warmth.

The bed sinks down when he crawls on top of you, kissing your forehead and brushing your hair off your face, “Think you can handle the real thing now?”

A panic replaces all of the warm feelings you had before. You were scared. Scared it was going to hurt, that he would be too fast or rough with you. He begins to take off his boxers, stroking his length a couple of times with a lazy grin on his face.

When the tip prods at your sopping hole, your hand shoots down to grab at his wrist, "Rin," He looks at you with an eyebrow quirked, "I've n-never done this before-"

He leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, "Don't worry, that's perfect," His eyes narrow like you're some kind of prey, "I'll go nice and slow." His strong arms cradle your head, pushing it into his chest so you couldn't see what he was doing.

What you couldn't see, wouldn't hurt you, right?

The painful stretch as his cock slowly gliding in had your legs kicking out, a shriek leaving your lips. The burning feeling was too much. He was ripping you apart, about to pierce your stomach if he didn't stop. Rintarou shushes you, stroking your hair as if he was consoling you. His hips settle against yours and you can let out a sigh of relief now that he doesn't have to slide in anymore.

"Hurts..." You mutter against his chest. Rintarou continues to stroke your hair before looking at you.

"It will feel good soon, baby," He lets go of your head, letting you lay down and face him again, "Let me take the lead."

His pace at first was so agonizingly slow, your head spinning with the pain that you were feeling. You didn't even know your lower half could feel this much burning and stretching. After the seventh or eighth stroke, it was like a veil was lifted up. You began to see stars, body relaxing and tensing all at the same time at the wonderful feeling of him filling you full of his cock.

Rintarou took your blissed face as a sign to finally go faster.

Rintarou began to slam his hips into you causing you to stutter out a couple of dumb-sounding moans. The feeling of him was too much. It was causing your legs to seize up and your body began to ache. 

"Too fast!" Your legs try to close but he pries them open and slams them against the bed.

He glares down at you, "Take it," The sounds of his hips slamming against yours made your brain go hazy, "Fucking take it. Shit, so fucking good."

When your eyes go bleary and begin to cross, that's when he chuckles. You looked like the perfect little fuck doll.

"Feels so good, Rin! So, so good," Your breasts jiggle with the movements of his hips, "God, I'm gon' cum again." 

You have never felt such bliss before. It opened so many doors you didn't even know were possible. A couple of slams of his hips against yours had you finally releasing once again. It was better than the last, maybe because of how full you were. Your body was tensing and clenching around Rintarou. A warm feeling began to coat your walls. You pry your eyes open to see Rintarou hunched over with a face full of pleasure.

He collapses on top of you after a couple of minutes inside of you. 

Your brain felt foggy but your body felt so good. It was the perfect combination in your head. Your eyelids begin to droop with the exhaustion of it all and you let yourself take a short nap.

You were awoken with a harsh shake to your shoulder. You blink a couple of times, trying to adjust to the light.

"Y-yeah," You sit up, pain jolting through your body.  Rintarou was standing in front of you with a lit cigarette hanging halfway out of his mouth.

He sighed, looking annoyed at your cluelessness, "I usually never let girls sleep after I fuck them, consider yourself lucky. But," He hands you your shirt and skirt, "I'm gonna need you to leave. Class in the morning, you know."

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his tone, "But, I thought-"

He cuts you off with a sinister laugh, "Thought you were special because I called you loving names and went slow?"

You felt your chest begin to cave in on itself. This wasn't happening, was it? He was just playing some sort of cruel joke on you.

"Rin-"

"Fuck," He rolls his eyes, "Don't call me fucking Rin, okay? Call me Rintarou. I just wanted you to feel like you could trust me."

Tears prickle at your eyes as his words begin to register to you, "So this was all... a joke? A prank on me or something?"

He clicks his tongue, taking a puff out of his cigarette and flicking ash in his tray, "Don't take it so personally, sweetheart," He sits on his bed, hand going to caress your knee in mock comfort, "I have this kink. I wanted to corrupt someone."

You shake your head, "I don't understand."

"How could I pass someone like you up? You looked so innocent when I first laid my eyes on you," He smiles at the memory, "You were the perfect person to corrupt. So I did it, and now I need you to leave my house."

It was like your whole world had crumbled in front of you. It was a stupid thought in your head, but you thought maybe he just wanted to take care of you, make you feel better after slipping up and offending him.

You felt so stupid.

Leaving his room was as humiliating as finding out he didn't really care for you. You felt his slimy eyes on you as you redressed, all the way up until you shut the door to his room.

Standing out in the hallway of his frat house you didn't know what to do with yourself. You felt nothing short of crushed and heartbroken.

Rintarou laid against his bedframe, basking in the silence. His cigarette was filling his chest with warmth. He couldn't help but begin to laugh like a crazy man at what he just pulled off.

Corrupting was more thrilling than he thought. He wanted more.

The look on your face had a sinister emotion creeping into his brain. He wanted to do this more.

But for now, he will continue to think back on this night with a victorious outlook.

Rintarou had successfully corrupted someone and crushed their heart.

[creepsmcstuffins]

The Creeps as Potato Chips

Slender: Regular Lays. Everyone thinks he's so classy and sophisticated, which he is. But sometimes he likes to relax and chill like everyone else.

Jeff the Killer: Flaming Hot Cheetos. His fire-y nature compliments these chips. Plus he's an absolute mad man

E.J.: Pringles Sour Cream and Cheese. He's so mellow and easy going.

Masky/Tim: Doritos Cool Ranch. Masky is like that one chip in the whole bag that has all the seasoning on it. And Tim is like the rest of the bag, just laid-back.

Hoodie/Brian: Lays Wavy, with any dip. Hoodie is really chill and can go with the flow. And Brian is more than likely the life of any party

Nina the Killer: Blue Tortilla Chips. Who the fuck likes those? Honestly.

Clockwork: Chex Party Mix. This woman is scary crazy. Ready to fuck your day up, like when you want a pretzel and end up eating one of those hard bagel bit things

Jane the Killer: Cheetos Puffs. Very soft girl until you get her around Jeff. Then, its just a brawl

Nathan the Nobody: Lays Salt and Vinger. He's so salty and bitter, right fully so. The world just dealt him a shitty hand.

Jason the Toymaker: Doritos Sweet and Spicy Chili. The man is so bold and very tasteful

The Puppeteer: Funyuns. Hes loves bitter and sad people, basically feeds off of them.

Splendor: Lays Barbecue. This dude is happy all the time. And how could you possibly pass up a Barbecue flavored chip? (Unless you dont like them, and that's fair)

Offender: Lays Sour Cream and Onion. I only say this because this guy is so loved in the community! And I havent really met a person the just Hated Sour Cream and Onion chips.

Rake: Bugels Original. Ever put these on your fingertips? You just did 75% of a costume for this guy. Enjoy it

B.O.B: Fritos Chili Cheese. When you can get home to shut the hell up, hes pretty decent to be around.

Trender: This bitch is all of that and all the chips. Cause he is variety

[scary-lasagna]

*cracks knuckles* aight

What’s everyone doing in the shared minecraft server

- Inferno 🔥 anon

The Creeps in Minecraft (SMP?)

You know what? Fuck it, Herobrine exists because I say so. But he also just hates the creeps, specifically Ben because he tried to summon him when he was younger and also a second time after he died.

Like Ben, he's just a ghost tied to a game. But this isn't about him.

Every Saturday night, a game night is hosted by Toby and Ben. This can range from Minecraft, to online Pictionary, to sharing what their monthly presentations are going to be about, to Mario Kart, etc.

Minecraft is sprinkled in and out of Friday game nights, just because it's one of those games that you usually spend a whole day on if you play it right and it can get exhausting.

People usually pop in and out, because Ben has assured that the server stays online constantly for whenever someone just needs to punch a cow or dissociate while mining for hours on end.

(Little long)

--- Designated roles:

Greedy bitch: constantly stealing shit, or just being nosey in general and rummaging through others' chests. The only reason why everyone keeps their valuables in locked chests

Jeff

Dark Link

Laughing Jack (Although he does like to frame other people by switching chest items)

Grandfather Steven: Holds all of the Minecraft wisdom that you could ever ask for. Even more so than Google or Reddit. A walking dictionary, encyclopedia, and crafting guide.

Ben

Toby (Even if he forgets half of the things he tells you. He's just excited to talk to you)

Laughing Jack

Lost Silver

Farmer: Started a farm and how they have created their own cake economy for selling meat, crops, and cooked products

Sally

Ben

Splendor

Liu

Nina

Brian

Redstone Engineer: Always has outrageous contraptions for their base, or helps others with their Redstone engineering.

Tim

Ben

Liu

Helen

Eyeless Jack

The modder: Has implemented all of these cool mods and resource packs. More animals, more mobs, DOG ARMOR, aesthetics, and makes personalized stuff for the others like tools, capes, and skins.

Ben

Toby

Glitchy Red

Jane

Explorer: Goes to odds and ends exploring the worlds, different biomes, caves, and genuinely fills out the starter map. If you need a certain wood, or trade with a nearby village, they'll point you in the right direction. Is also the one who comes back home after a few hours with a bunch of different pets and seeds.

Ben

Splendor

Eyeless Jack

Clockwork

Builder: The one who builds. Also accepts cake as payment if you have a request. A cake and a half if it's a copy of a youtube tutorial.

Lost Silver

Liu

Helen

Hobo Heart

Miner/collector: Spends entire days just mining and creating systematic tunnels or collecting resources like wood and clay. Can sometimes be spotted trading with villagers and/or causing raids for better prices.

Toby

Sally (They definitely all team up during a raid)

Lost Silver

Eyeless Jack

Ben

Flower collector: Does "EXTREMELY" hard work picking flowers, finding decor, and making cute little pots to put mushrooms in. Interior design is important, you know!

Sally

Splendor

Jane

Toby

Unwanted helper: Invites themself to help you with simple tasks. Although they're not very aware, and might get others killed. Such as looking at an Ender and punching you into lava as they panic-click and run away.

Toby

Jeff

Nina

The Follower: Follows you to Nether and back. Will always protect you no matter what and follows you through ravines and cliffsides to adventure with you. Also may or may not be using you as an excuse to game with one hand while the other eats Twizzlers.

Kate

Splendor

Brian

Eyeless Jack

Liu

Jeff

Spam-crouches at every animal or non-hostile mob because they love them:

Toby

Sally

Jeff

Splendor

Kills everything unless it's tameable or a panda:

Glitchy Red

Jeff (Got killed by a dolphin and lost everything)

Dark Link

Tim

Sully

"Are ya winning, son?":

Slender (Will bring you cut fruit or other healthy snacks)

Offender (Keysmashes just to piss you off and runs away)

Splendor

Puppeteer

Jason

Eyeless Jack

[tothemeadow]

Hi!! I just saw your requests were open and I wanted to ask for a nsfw scenario with Mui? But like with a dom!fem!reader please, hehe. I honestly can't be submissive to save my life (it makes me extremely uncomfortable and is a big turn off)so I'd really appreciate it if you could write for me! There's so little content for dom readers tbh- I'd understand if you're uncomfortable with the topic though!! 1/2

Aw, thank you! And I totally get what you mean - femdoms are 😤👌

It is my personal quest to bring more dominant reader action into this thirsty world.

‘make me’ / Tokito M. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, sugar mama/baby, Mommy kink, sex toys, blowjobs, pegging

words: 2,545

(a/n): you bet your goddamn ass Muichiro is 18+ in this

-

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

Your eyebrows twitch. Tonguing the inside of your cheek, you mentally count to ten. It’s best not to rip into him just yet. All you asked was that he come inside, maybe spend some quality time with you. It’s not too much to ask, is it? There’s nothing wrong with wanting that, is there?

But no, clearly there is.

Perching his designer sunglasses on top of his head, Muichiro gives you a onceover. Long, inky strands frame his face; the hairs are pushed back behind his ears, revealing expensive looking hoops. Everything about his appearance screams haughty bitch - his tanned skin, his perfectly manicured nails, the name brand swim trunks wrapped around his skinny legs. It’s funny, though, since he wouldn’t even look this way if it weren’t for you.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, you know?

Pouty lips purse around a bright red lollipop as he pulls it out of his mouth. Both his lips and tongue are stained a fruity red, the color a stark difference against his crystalline eyes. Even as he blinks, you can see specks of a fine, shimmery eyeshadow. As much as you’re annoyed with him, you can never deny how absolutely stunning he is.

“You’re frowning,” he points out. “You’ll give yourself crow’s feet if you keep doing that, Mommy.”

Oh, yes. The delights of being a sugar mama. Too bad your sugar baby is a spoiled brat.

Promptly planting yourself on his lounge chair, you yank the magazine from his grasp and toss it onto the table next to him. Muichiro cocks a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Don’t be backtalking me, sweetie.”

“I am not,” Muichiro says, his tone almost bordering a whine.

“Oh? Then I’m only pretending that you’re acting this way? You know I don’t like it when you treat me like that.”

Muichiro puffs his cheeks indignantly. Even while pouting, he looks like a model. It’s both utterly ridiculous and amusing at once. “I’m not doing anything wrong. You’re just overreacting.”

Overreacting? Oh, now that’s rich.

You click your tongue. “Watch your tone.”

Scrunching his eyebrows, Muichiro sticks the lollipop in his mouth and shakes his head. “Uh-uh.”

“Muichiro,” you warn.

“Make me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. That’s enough of this bratty attitude. Reaching forward, your fingers wrap around the stick of his lollipop, yanking the candy away. Muichiro cries out in alarm, an offended expression contorting his features. You chuck it onto the magazine, careful enough not to hit the table. If Muichiro complains about you ruining his reading material, sobeit.

“Listen to me, you little brat,” you spit, your hand clamping around his face and squishing his cheeks. “Don’t make me bend you over my knee.”

Muichiro’s eyes widen. You can see the gears turning in his head; thick lashes flutter enticingly, brush his sun kissed cheeks. You realize right away that he’s mocking you. Cocking his head back, you leer over him.

“Muichiro,” you start in a low, low voice, “you better get your ass inside before I tie you up and edge you.” Loosening your hold on his face, you retract your hand and stand up. Muichiro hastily scrambles to follow suit, a sly smirk growing on his face. Little brat – he’s enjoying this.

The rational part of your mind tells you to cease all motions and not give into his little scheme. However, the darker, more animalistic side tells you to comply and have him thinking over what he’s done. You choose the latter.

Muichiro plops himself on your bed the second he enters the bedroom. The bed itself is large, expensive; satiny sheets and thick blankets cover the bed, the color an elegant cream. You’ve always appreciated how nicely the tone of Muichiro’s skin contrasts compared to it. Muichiro’s movements are practically giddy as he shucks his trunks off and places his sunglasses on your nightstand. A quick glance over tells you that he’s already half hard. He openly smirks as he catches you staring.

“Come on, Mommy,” he singsongs, perching himself on all fours and crawling to the edge of the bed. Tossing his long hair over his shoulder, he flashes you a sultry look. “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

You don’t even bother holding back a scoff. Look at him, acting like he owns the damn place. Like he’s in charge of the relationship. Crossing your arms, you force yourself to keep on an annoyed expression. It’s a load of bullshit, though, since you can feel dampness collecting in your panties. Kneeling at the edge of the mattress, you look down at Muichiro.

From this angle, you can see the delicate slope of his back, the swell of his perky ass. The brat is built like a goddamn pornstar and he knows it. Cupping his chin, you tilt his head up. “You think everything has to go your way, huh?”

Muichiro wiggles his ass. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

You tongue the inside of your cheek. If he’s going to be continuously mouthy like this, there’s only one thing left to do. Pulling yourself away, you ignore Muichiro’s impatient huff and head for the closet. Like the entirety of your home, it’s large and full of expensive items; however, as wealthy as you may be, most of them are Muichiro’s belongings. Dropping low at a set of shelves, you pull out a black box, your fingernails drumming against the thick plastic. Muichiro’s probably expecting a pair of handcuffs, maybe even a gag.

But you’ve got something better in mind.

At this point, Muichiro’s openly whining with impatience. As you quickly disrobe, the distinct sound of skin sliding skin, the slight breathiness of Muichiro’s moans. Your chest pangs with irritation; you don’t know what’s going on in that perverted head of his, but you’ve finally had enough. Securing the harness around your hips and thighs, you grab onto your weapon of choice and storm back into the bedroom.

Like you thought, Muichiro’s flat on his back, his neck craned over the edge of the bed, his fingers frantically pulling and twisting at his cock. Your mouth dries at the sight, a lump forming in your throat. Muichiro looks absolutely breathtaking like this, his body sprawled and long hair flowing.

“Mommy,” he sighs, almost dreamily.

“Fuck,” you grunt. Quickly making your way over to the bed, your pussy clenches around nothing as his breath hitches in his throat. “Get on your hands and knees,” you bark.

With a feeble nod, Muichiro does as he’s told, probably too horny and eager to get fucked to give any mouth. You almost laugh, because is he really being serious right now? Obviously, he thinks with his dick more than his head, it seems. Pressing his face into the mattress, he raises himself on his knees, his ass reaching towards the ceiling. Between the split of his legs, you can see his cock hanging heavily, precum swelling from the slit.

“Impatient little brat,” you growl, clambering onto the bed behind him. “You just had to start touching yourself, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like you were doing anything,” Muichiro snips. A squeak bursts from his lips when your hand sharply connects with his asscheek.

“Bad boy,” you say, a deep scowl digging into your cheeks. You ignore his cries as you spank him again, again, and again. His ass is turning an apple red from the force of your spankings, the outline of your hand becoming more and more evident.

Muichiro takes it like a champ, though, his back arching and thighs twitching. The head of his cock drags against the thick duvet; it elicits such a sinful noise from him, the edges blurred with a heavy breath. Slender fingers clutch at the material, yank on it with a grip that turns his knuckles white.

“You should apologize for your mouth.” Delivering one final smack against his pert ass, you sit back on your haunches and turn to the object you placed on the bed. The dildo you picked is jet black in color, a perfect mix of length and girth. This oughtta shut Muichiro up. After attaching it to the harness, you flick your fingers against the reddened skin of his ass. “Face me.”

With shaky movements, Muichiro raises himself to his knees and turns around. His eyes instantly latch onto the thing between your thighs; his Adam’s apple bobs as he thickly swallows. Cupping a hand around the back of his neck, you guide him forward, bending him over until he’s eyelevel with your cock.

“Since you run your mouth so much, I figured you might as well put it to use.”

Muichiro’s eyes dart upwards.

You cock an unamused eyebrow at him. “Well? What are you waiting for? You’re starving to get fucked, right? Where’s that confidence from earlier? Doesn’t my little slut wanna be fucked into the bed?” Taking your cock into your hand, you tap the head against his flushed cheek. “Suck.”

Petal lips wrap around the head, the hint of a tongue peeking out. You watch as Muichiro flicks his tongue over the head in tiny strokes. You scoff. The hand on the back of his neck pulls him further in; your cock shoves its way deeper into his mouth, making Muichiro yelp in surprise. Keeping your hand there, you let him set his own pace.

Slurping noises quickly fill the room as he frantically sucks on your cock. He urges it down his throat, his pretty pink lips wrapped so sinfully around its girth. His eyes stay locked on yours the entire time, his thick lashes fluttering sultrily. Saliva bubbles at the corners of his mouth, spill down his chin. Frantically bobbing his head, his tongue laps at the underside of your cock, frantic, desperate. His hips shift subtly and suddenly he’s moaning around your cock; your eyes narrow into icy slits.

“Dirty little cockslut,” you sneer. “You’re getting off by sucking a fucking toy? You’re that desperate to have something down your throat, aren’t you? Go ahead – choke yourself.”

Gripping onto the back of his head, you buck your hips forward, driving your cock down his throat. Muichiro gags around it, his eyelids falling shut. The air hisses as he sharply inhales; he complains weakly, the sound nothing more than a pathetic whimper.

“You want me to fuck you with this, don’t you? Be a good little slut and cover it up in spit. You’re already so messy, so it should be easy for you, huh? Filthy boy.”

Muichiro moans loudly; as though encouraged by your degrading words, more spittle rolls down his chin, glistens on the surface of your cock. His hips move erratically, the drag of his cock against the duvet making his cries louder and higher in tone.

“Uh-uh-uh,” you tsk. You rip his mouth off of your cock, an obscene string of spit clinging to his bottom lip and the head of your cock. It snaps as you pull him away, a fucked-out expression playing on his features. “You wanna get fucked?” Muichiro eagerly nods his head. Picking up the bottle of lube laying to the side, you look at him expectantly. “Then you know what to do.”

Trembling fingers grab the bottle from your hand. You watch on as Muichiro pours the fluid over his digits, a slight hitch in his breath at how cold it feels. Reaching behind himself, he teases his quivering hole with the pads of his fingertips. Steadily, he works himself open, adding one finger at a time. Biting his lip, he rocks back onto his fingers, the squelch of the lube seemingly echoing in the room. Paired with his heavy pants, he sounds absolutely filthy.

Settling your back against the headboard, you beckon him forward with a ‘come hither’ motion. Muichiro hiccups on a soft sob as he pulls his fingers out of him; quickly scrambling to sit on your lap, he practically jumps on top you in his desperation. He’s too quick to lower himself on your cock, a keen ripping itself out of his throat at the stretch.

“Do- do something already,” he hisses, his eyelids fluttering. “Stop making me do all the work, Mommy!”

“Ungrateful slut,” you growl. Gripping onto his hips, you roll your hips into him, the head of your cock inching into him even further. “You’re still going to be a brat? Do I have to press your face down into the bed and fuck you silent?” At that, Muichiro moans loud.

Yanking him down, you control the pace, guiding his hips and angling your own so you’re hitting his prostate dead on with each stroke of your cock. He whimpers and mewls in pleasure, his head craning back and exposing the column of his neck. Swooping in, you nip at the flesh, scratch your teeth over the pounding vein. You’re all too aware of the slick between your thighs, how it’s ruining the blankets beneath you, but you don’t fucking care. Not when Muichiro’s whining like a bitch in heat.

His cock bobs with each thrust, slaps back against his stomach. Precum oozes from the tip, smears over both of yours skin. He’s just dying to be touched, to have your hand jerk him off, to have your lips wrap around the aching flesh. Quickly snatching his wrists, you force him to wrap his arms around your neck. Tiny gasps spill from his lips as you mouth at the underside of his jaw. Your hands drift over his chest; you pull and twist are his hardened nipples, relish in his pathetic mewls.

“Mommy, Mommy,” he chants, his tongue lolling out and more drool dripping from his chin. “Touch me.” He keens as you sink your teeth into his neck.

“You’ve been such a brat,” you coo. “If you want to cum, it’s going to be like this.”

Tears prick the corners of his crystalline eyes. “I-I can’t,” he stammers. “Please, Mommy-“

Readjusting yourself, you slam your hips into him, the head of your cock slamming into his prostate even harder. His fingernails scratch your shoulders as his entire body seizes up; throwing his head back, he chokes on a cry as he orgasms, hot ropes of white shooting out and painting your stomachs. You fuck him through his orgasm, milk him for everything that he’s got.

The corners of your mouth pull into a smug smile as he finally looks to you, his face a bright and sweaty mess. The inky strands of his hair stick to his skin. He looks so wrecked, so thoroughly ruined – and fuck it’s so hot. Bringing him forward, you lick your way into his mouth. His tongue languidly slides against yours, barely putting up a fight. He moans into your mouth as you run your fingers over his sensitive cock, scooping up some cum on your index finger. Breaking off the kiss, you promptly shove your finger into his mouth instead.

“Are you ready to apologize yet, sweetie?” you ask him.

Grabbing onto your wrist, he pulls your finger out of his mouth; he sticks out his tongue, showing you the bit of white gathered on the red-stained muscle. Clamping his mouth shut, he flashes you a mischievous smile. “Make me.”

[artificialqueens]

Not Your Problem, Love (Taywhora) - Phryne

Thank you all for saving me a seat on the clown bus; glad to have my turn at honking the horn! This fic comes from the prompt “I think I would rather eat expired spam,” submitted by @artificialortega. The gist is: they’re roommates, they’re exes, and they’re emotionally stunted. 

Thank you as always to my wonderful girlfriend @scarletenvy, who betaed this piece, reminded me lovingly about my tenses, and encouraged me the whole way through. Take a minute to check out her writing too—you won’t regret it. 

X

A’whora pushes the pedal of her sewing machine back just a nudge and stretches out her legs. She rolls the last couple stitches back and forth, then cuts the threads unceremoniously, resigning herself to completing the project sometime in the early morning, after some food and some beauty sleep. It wasn’t as though she was going to sleep much tonight anyway. 

She rolls her shoulders, easing the tightness gathering there and trailing down her lower back, pulling herself to her feet. As much as she loves the chair her and Tayce drunkenly rescued from the curb many months ago, hauled four flights up their cramped stairwell and shoved into A’whora’s office, the air light and crisp and giggling along with them; as much as she loved drinking Tesco chard, the bottle passed between them as she taught Tayce how to sew patches of scrap fabric into the chair to hold the bursting stuffing back, bandaging and sloppily kissing many a pricked finger, it still hurts after a while. It always does. 

So Awhora throws back the last of her cuppa and heads down the hallway, stopping at the smoke detector flush against the wall, getting on her tip-toes, tapping a cotted finger against the button until it gives a firm beep. She doesn’t want the apartment to burn down, partially because she couldn’t bear to see a dress she’s already put twenty hours of work into to go up in flames, partially because she doesn’t want a reason for the lease to break early, partially because fire kills people.

“What’s with all the candles?” A’whora asks, slipping the cot off of her finger and into the bin. She asks, though she already knows. It’s not as though Tayce has changed much, and Tayce was always one to set a scene for date nights, so the candles and stemless wine glasses aren’t out of place. She doesn’t give Tayce the chance to answer, choosing to jab at her instead. “Lavender doesn’t cover the smell of burnt rubber, babes.” 

Tayce rolls her eyes in return, still stirring frantically at the pot in front of her. “You’re not helpful, Whora,” she drawls, now jabbing at whatever’s in that wretched pot with the back end of the wooden spoon, red sauce splattering across the stovetop, sticking in Tayce’s brow. “Fuck.” 

Awhora rounds the counter, grabbing at Tayce’s arm. “Slow down, Hannibal,” she chases with a laugh, taking the spoon from Tayce to stop the violent prodding and stop herself from wiping the sauce out of her brow. “Back it up and tell me what we’re doing here.” 

“What I think I’m doing here is massacring a piece of chicken until it’s cooked.” Tayce takes the spoon back, giving it a once over before tossing it into the already full sink. 

“Well…” A’whora grabs a fork and bumps Tayce’s hip away from the stove. “For starters, turn the burner off.” She brushes the pasta and sauce away from the chicken, holds it up in front of her face, and gives it a good once over. “And surprise…it’s burnt.” She then sticks it in Tayce’s face, watching intently as her eyes cross in front of the blackened chicken.

If Tayce’s bemused sigh—as though she didn’t know food could be overcooked—doesn’t do her in, then her pursed, plump lips surely do, like she’s brainstorming ways to unburn the chicken, or better yet, ways to have A’whora fix it like she always did, well, still does. 

“Just try it to be sure, yeah?” 

A’whora wrinkles her nose, returning the chicken to the pot and poking at it like it might grow legs and get on up. “I think I’d rather eat Spam, bloody canned meat, than this.” 

“At least this isn’t bloody, innit?” 

A’whora gives a playful shove. “You’re stupid,” she says, though she know’s she’s endeared by how quick Tayce thinks she is, how she jokes even when she’s fucked up, how A’whora wished she could do the same. She dodges Tayce’s return shove to grab the bin, nearly spilling over, and drags it to the stove. “You put the chicken in raw, or you cooked it first?” 

“You just put it in, let it cook with everything else, of course,” Tayce replies easily. “So we just take the chicken out and it’s a lovely Italian meal. I say I’m going vegetarian and she’s taken by my love of animals…” 

“You got to bin the whole thing.” A’whora interrupts, making a move for the pot, but Tayce grabs her wrist. 

“Just try some of the pasta. Maybe that’s done right.” 

“It’s not. It’s gonna give me food poisoning, babe.” A’whora knows it’s a touch blunt for the woman she knows can barely heat beans from a can, but is clearly trying, and that adding “babe” does nothing to soften it. She’d like to blame the feeling of Tayce’s slender fingers wrapped around her wrist on her snappishness, but she knows that makes her melt beyond her control if anything. 

Tayce scrapes the pot, muttering to the pasta “Suppose she thinks she’s a chef now. Right Gordon Ramsey but can’t make much more than a bowl of shreddies.” 

A’whora should be offended, but it’s true. And it’s Tayce. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I know what not to do, at least.” She clears her throat and tries again, releasing her wrist and holding out her hand for the fork. Tayce obliges. “You can’t put raw meat in cooked food. The chicken’s got germs and you’re overcooking the pasta and you’re boiling down the sauce to a paste.” She tries scraping a mushy noodle from the side of the pan. “That’s three reasons why I’d rather eat expired Spam, with my freshly manicured fingers, than try this, love.”

“Little old me got an upgrade to the fingers, huh.” After Tayce’s smirk falls into an indignant huff, she steals the fork back. “Lucky it’s not for you, dear.” She picks out the chicken and flicks it into the bin. 

“I’m just saying, you’re not getting fucked after feeding her that.” A’whora grabs the paper towel roll and wipes down the counter as best she can, knowing it’s going to need a good scrub later. From the sauce, of course.

Setting the fork down, Tayce tilts her head toward A’whora. “That’s not really your problem anymore,” she says, and A’whora almost thinks she’s imagining the lilting, coy tone, though she’s sure she’s not imagining the lightheadedness that comes along with it.

She swallows. “Well, I still genuinely care about you and your pussy, so I suggest you toss that in the bin and grab some takeaway.” She makes her way to the living room, tugging on a pair of boots before grabbing her wallet and phone off the coffee table. 

“And if you call in enough time, I might still be out to grab it for you.” A’whora grabs Tayce’s leather jacket off the hook—it’s the only one out here, and she’s not sure if she’s just too lazy to grab her own, or wants to send a message to whatever woman’s coming over—and shrugs it on, stuffing her hands in the pockets. “And if I’m still out, I might actually grab it for you.” She flashes a slick smile, nodding only once Tayce concedes and begins spooning the pasta into the bin. 

“That’s a love,” A’whora taunts, waving her phone a bit. “Let me know about the takeaway.” 

“Bitch,” Tayce mutters through a soft grin. 

A’whora opens the door, and says, into the falling night, “yours,” before heading out and locking up behind her.

X

[phrynewrites]

oh hello there welcome aboard the taywhora clown bus!! could i request a little drabble pls? i will let u choose the au and trope but i would love to see the line “i think i would rather eat expired spam” bc it's hilarious and i can see either of them saying it 💖

Beep beep the bus just drove over the curb. Thank you for the request hun. I had so much fun writing these idiots who clearly don’t know shit about feelings. Enjoy!

AU: Roommates

Trope: Exes

Quote: “I think I would rather eat expired spam.” 

A’whora pushes the pedal of her sewing machine back just a nudge and stretches out her legs. She rolls the last couple stitches back and forth, then cuts the threads unceremoniously, resigning herself to completing the project sometime in the early morning, after some food and some beauty sleep. It wasn’t as though she was going to sleep much tonight anyway. 

She rolls her shoulders, easing the tightness gathering there and trailing down her lower back, pulling herself to her feet. As much as she loves the chair her and Tayce drunkenly rescued from the curb many months ago, hauled four flights up their cramped stairwell and shoved into A’whora’s office, the air light and crisp and giggling along with them; as much as she loved drinking Tesco chard, the bottle passed between them as she taught Tayce how to sew patches of scrap fabric into the chair to hold the bursting stuffing back, bandaging and sloppily kissing many a pricked finger, it still hurts after a while. It always does. 

So Awhora throws back the last of her cuppa and heads down the hallway, stopping at the smoke detector flush against the wall, getting on her tip-toes, tapping a cotted finger against the button until it gives a firm beep. She doesn’t want the apartment to burn down, partially because she couldn’t bear to see a dress she’s already put twenty hours of work into to go up in flames, partially because she doesn’t want a reason for the lease to break early, partially because fire kills people.

“What’s with all the candles?” A’whora asks, slipping the cot off of her finger and into the bin. She asks, though she already knows. It’s not as though Tayce has changed much, and Tayce was always one to set a scene for date nights, so the candles and stemless wine glasses aren’t out of place. She doesn’t give Tayce the chance to answer, choosing to jab at her instead. “Lavender doesn’t cover the smell of burnt rubber, babes.” 

Tayce rolls her eyes in return, still stirring frantically at the pot in front of her. “You’re not helpful, Whora,” she drawls, now jabbing at whatever's in that wretched pot with the back end of the wooden spoon, red sauce splattering across the stovetop, sticking in Tayce’s brow. “Fuck.” 

Awhora rounds the counter, grabbing at Tayce’s arm. “Slow down, Hannibal,” she chases with a laugh, taking the spoon from Tayce to stop the violent prodding and stop herself from wiping the sauce out of her brow. “Back it up and tell me what we’re doing here.” 

“What I think I’m doing here is massacring a piece of chicken until it’s cooked.” Tayce takes the spoon back, giving it a once over before tossing it into the already full sink. 

“Well…” A’whora grabs a fork and bumps Tayce’s hip away from the stove. “For starters, turn the burner off.” She brushes the pasta and sauce away from the chicken, holds it up in front of her face, and gives it a good once over. “And surprise...it’s burnt.” She then sticks it in Tayce’s face, watching intently as her eyes cross in front of the blackened chicken.

If Tayce’s bemused sigh—as though she didn’t know food could be overcooked—doesn’t do her in, then her pursed, plump lips surely do, like she’s brainstorming ways to unburn the chicken, or better yet, ways to have A’whora fix it like she always did, well, still does. 

“Just try it to be sure, yeah?” 

A’whora wrinkles her nose, returning the chicken to the pot and poking at it like it might grow legs and get on up. “I think I’d rather eat Spam, bloody canned meat, than this.” 

“At least this isn’t bloody, innit?” 

A’whora gives a playful shove. “You’re stupid,” she says, though she know’s she’s endeared by how quick Tayce thinks she is, how she jokes even when she’s fucked up, how A’whora wished she could do the same. She dodges Tayce’s return shove to grab the bin, nearly spilling over, and drags it to the stove. “You put the chicken in raw, or you cooked it first?” 

“You just put it in, let it cook with everything else, of course,” Tayce replies easily. “So we just take the chicken out and it’s a lovely Italian meal. I say I’m going vegetarian and she’s taken by my love of animals...” 

“You got to bin the whole thing.” A’whora interrupts, making a move for the pot, but Tayce grabs her wrist. 

“Just try some of the pasta. Maybe that’s done right.” 

“It’s not. It’s gonna give me food poisoning, babe.” A’whora knows it’s a touch blunt for the woman she knows can barely heat beans from a can, but is clearly trying, and that adding “babe” does nothing to soften it. She’d like to blame the feeling of Tayce’s slender fingers wrapped around her wrist on her snappishness, but she knows that makes her melt beyond her control if anything. 

Tayce scrapes the pot, muttering to the pasta “Suppose she thinks she’s a chef now. Right Gordon Ramsey but can’t make much more than a bowl of shreddies.” 

A’whora should be offended, but it’s true. And it’s Tayce. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I know what not to do, at least.” She clears her throat and tries again, releasing her wrist and holding out her hand for the fork. Tayce obliges. “You can’t put raw meat in cooked food. The chicken’s got germs and you’re overcooking the pasta and you’re boiling down the sauce to a paste.” She tries scraping a mushy noodle from the side of the pan. “That’s three reasons why I’d rather eat expired Spam, with my freshly manicured fingers, than try this, love.”

“Little old me got an upgrade to the fingers, huh.” After Tayce’s smirk falls into an indignant huff, she steals the fork back. “Lucky it’s not for you, dear.” She picks out the chicken and flicks it into the bin. 

“I’m just saying, you’re not getting fucked after feeding her that.” A’whora grabs the paper towel roll and wipes down the counter as best she can, knowing it’s going to need a good scrub later. From the sauce, of course.

Setting the fork down, Tayce tilts her head toward A’whora. “That’s not really your problem anymore,” she says, and A’whora almost thinks she’s imagining the lilting, coy tone, though she’s sure she’s not imagining the lightheadedness that comes along with it.

She swallows. “Well, I still genuinely care about you and your pussy, so I suggest you toss that in the bin and grab some takeaway.” She makes her way to the living room, tugging on a pair of boots before grabbing her wallet and phone off the coffee table. 

“And if you call in enough time, I might still be out to grab it for you.” A’whora grabs Tayce’s leather jacket off the hook—it’s the only one out here, and she’s not sure if she’s just too lazy to grab her own, or wants to send a message to whatever woman’s coming over—and shrugs it on, stuffing her hands in the pockets. “And if I’m still out, I might actually grab it for you.” She flashes a slick smile, nodding only once Tayce concedes and begins spooning the pasta into the bin. 

“That’s a love,” A’whora taunts, waving her phone a bit. “Let me know about the takeaway.” 

“Bitch,” Tayce mutters through a soft grin. 

A’whora opens the door, and says, into the falling night, “yours,” before heading out and locking up behind her.