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paper-aiirplane · 8 months

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unhinged binggehua posting because I can’t be stopped

CW for kidnapping and general bingge behavior

Bingge, who has wrenched gods from the heavens and made use of countless divine treasures, ripping through the folds of time-space with xin mo to find and crush the orchestrator of his misery. He does not think it will be hard. He expects his creator to be an old creature, immortal and mighty as time itself; perhaps they will be calm and speak of fate, as though bingge’s suffering was naught but an ant struggling in the dirt to them; perhaps they will be cruel, having taken true delight in making his life agonizing.

But in a dingy apartment, small and cramped and stained with water leaks, he finds sqh working. The night is late and the only thing that lights up sqh’s face is the glow of his laptop. It’s almost divine. But bingge catches a glimpse of sqh’s face, and see’s him - so young, and yet impossibly weary and aged by the dark circles under his eyes and the weary blankness of his expression. This is no lofty god, conducting fates from upon a cloud. This is a creature who needs to eat and sleep as bingge once did.

Sqh turns when bingge steps on a crooked floorboard wrong, making it squeak. There is a bare fraction of a second where sqh looks upon bingge, and his eyes widen with emotion- recognition, panic, awe, fear. In that moment, bingge leaps forward, and knocks sqh clean out before a scream can even begin to form in his throat.

For a moment, bingge holds sqh. His creator, his god. Sqh is a faint weight in his arms, made haggard and pale by years of being shut away. But his face is softer in sleep, younger. Bingge enters his mind through his dreams.

He learns all there is to know of ‘Shang Qinghua’. There is no great tragedy to his life; he is no wayward orphan, or abused stepchild, or prince fallen from grace, or any other physically beaten and bereaved creature. But abandonment still lingers around him, the hurt of rejection buried deep. He is as resigned to his life of unpleasant work for survival as bingge is to his shallow existence and hollowed heart. Where bingge clings ever tighter to any love he can unearth, sqh shies from it, afraid to gain something for fear of the slight chance of losing it again. Here, in sqh, bingge finds the root of himself. He finds that which birthed him - that which held him close and nursed him, and released him onto the world as both a survival tactic and a buried cry for help.

Here is his creator, his god. His.

Perhaps it is not love bingge feels, not in the way he sees married couples love one another (not like his own marriages, no - he has long since learned that his marriages, even to the women he genuinely cares for, are not born of a true love). But it is a bone-deep feeling of belonging, the sense that a mechanism has clicked into place and is running properly for the first time. Here is the connection he has so craved; an utterly undeniable binding of red thread, a bond that cannot be broken by things like distance or emotion. Sqh is his, inasmuch as he is sqh’s. Creator and creation, god and vessel, mother and child.

Bingge’s suffering was molded by sqh’s hand, yes. But it was not without purpose, no - it is bingge’s suffering that has been given the dual purpose of keeping food in sqh’s mouth and kept him from going mad with lack of catharsis. Bingge has always, always been able to suffer any hurt if it would aid someone, and so he cannot help the thrill that he feels to know that his agony had meaning. It is a flaw he shares with his creator; for why else would sqh change the story of his heart to suit the whims of faceless people, to cater to their desires? Bingge feels every ounce of resentment flood away.

Bingge cradles sqh’s body on the apartment floor. The light of the laptop continues to pool over them, washing out the color in sqh’s skin, making him look as delicate as porcelain. Bingge wonders what color he is under the light of the warm sun. He gently tugs sqh’s hair free of it’s tangled hair tie, loosening the unwashed strands. The room smells of sweat, and salty noodles. Sqh’s strange clothes fit him ill, bulky and oversized, as though he was trying to trick himself into believing there was someone nearby.

He is small and dirty and weak, but bingge finds this irrelevant, if not comforting. Here is one who would not scorn his child self, grubby-handed and shoeless and starving. What is a physical state, in the end, when it can be changed so easily? Bingge will wash him and drape him in fine clothes, and feed him by hand until he is radiant, and then people will look upon sqh and see what he is - bingge’s.

(He knows, from looking, that mbj is sqh’s most beloved creation. His favorite. A toy made just for himself, carefully hidden from the greedy gazes of his readers. Bingge does not mind - for he is the first, and he will not be jealous of the little pet sqh made for himself. Perhaps mbj would be better suited to a bed than the battlefield anyway, he muses.)

Without another look or another thought, bingge rends the world with his sword again and steps through the hole, god cradled in his arms

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paper-aiirplane · 11 months

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Silence fell around the small wooden house as soon as Shàng Qīnghuá stormed off to his study. Mòběi—Jūn laid on his bed, fingers drumming against the soft mattress. Oh, how odd it was to be somewhere so small. The candles around him flickered, the only source of light that was being supplied other than the moonlight that trickled in through the windows. The room was filled with many books and small trinkets. Bookshelves neatly lining one wall of the small room, bed resting in the middle between two nightstands.

It was cozy, but dreadfully hot to the dragon.

His mind had the chance to drift, eyes closing slowly. Greeted by the familiar darkness behind his eyes. How does he not remember me? His lips pursed. Was I not a caring enough husband? Surely the situation could have nothing to do with his ability to care for the other, but it was still concerning considering how he'd cared for the man in any way he could. Any way he knew how. Yet, somehow, even his energy had been wiped from his memory.

Mòběi—Jūn remembered his touch.

His taste.

His smell.

His soul.

His pain.

Everything a lover could know, and yet Shàng Qīnghuá remembered nothing. Not an ounce of him. His clawed hands carefully ran over his cracked lips. He hadn't touched another, not even to hug. Thought of another, unless the intent was murderous. Never imagined being with another since the man's disappearance, no matter how long it'd been. The idea that he'd simply been wiped from his beloved's memory.. his nails dig into the fabric of his robes, a low growl escaping his throat. That would not do.

Finally, even the noises of the scribbles soon fades to nothing, meaning Shàng Qīnghuá must have fallen asleep at his desk foolishly. Even in his past life it was something he did often. The dragon quietly exhales through his nose, pushing himself from the warm bed. Shoes quietly padding against the groaning hardwood floor as he approaches the door. If I take him back home.. Will he remember? The door is pushed open with a disapproving creak, tail dragging behind him as he approaches the door to the other man's study.

Silently he pushes the door open, approaching the man's resting body with a small smile and a slow shake of his head. The warm khaki of his sleeves covered in dark ink, his long brunet locks sprawling along his desk and back. Just as beautiful as he was before.

The dragon approaches the man, lifting him into his cold arms. The brunet tries to shift away from his icy body, but stops struggling rather quickly as Mòběi—Jūn wraps his arm more firmly around the man. One hand extends outwards, a claw tearing a portal in front of them; leading directly to the dragon's bedroom. Now knowing the location of Shàng Qīnghuá's house, he could easily transport them back and forth as often as the man wished.

Stepping through the portal it closed right behind them, stirring Shàng Qīnghuá from his sleep.

_____

Shàng Qīnghuá was awoken by the sudden urge to vomit, his head felt like it was spinning. His warm body felt cold, pale hands reaching out to grab his blanket, pulling it over him and leaning into a rather hard pillow. The brunet brings a hand to his eyes to rub the sleep from them, one still gripping his blanket as he yawns. Why is it so cold..? Chocolate eyes finally crack open enough to take in the view of dimly lit candles in a lavish looking room. It's at this moment that he realizes he is laying on the Mòběi—Jūn's chest with his cape wrapped around him like a blanket.

Fuck.

He nearly jumps out of his skin, yelping and squirming until he's placed onto the ground. “ I am so so sor — wait where are we? ” The building felt familiar, yet he'd never been here; nor had he ever been anywhere similar. Were they.. In Mòběi—Jūn's home? The walls are covered in lavish decor, something like this would only be fit for royalty, no? There against the furthest wall was a bed, a bed covered in deep navy blankets with golden trim, gray furs covering the foot of the bed, and black pillows.. It was rather beautiful. Something the smaller man almost felt unworthy of seeing. The room was far taller than the two of them, rising far taller than any ordinary building, the walls covered in paintings with gold frames hugging each intricate drawing. A wooden dresser made of wood that seemed to mock the human world's cherry wood, it had two crowns atop the tall surface. Almost immediately he forgot his worry, trotting up to the crowns with a curious stare.

“ You are safe here, it is my room. ” Mòběi—Jūn's deep voice rumbled from behind Shàng Qīnghuá, causing the brunet to jump. Right… bring a stranger to your home and they return it by bringing you to their room.. Is that a saying? Slowly the man shakes his head, letting a long breath from his nose that resembled a sigh. This situation is so peculiar.. and honestly far too fast paced for Shàng Qīnghuá’s mind to keep up with. Now he held the smaller of the two crowns with a curious gaze, seeming to inspect every bit of the object. It was silver lined with Green Aventurine.. Matching well with the other crown that was golden, lined with sapphires. “ Did you have a.. Erm.. Queen? ” Of course he meant wife, but he wasn’t sure if there were.. Other words for dragons?

“ No. That was my crown before I became the king. ” The dragon huffed as he approached the smaller man, taking the crown from his thin hands to place it back where it belonged. A sheepish smile spreading across Shàng Qīnghuá’s face. “ Sorry, my king. I was only curious. ” Then silence fell between the two; an awkward silence. Almost as if neither of them knew what to say, neither knew how to carry on the conversation. Their bodies were far closer than they’d been unless he was getting carried.. It made his heart flutter in his chest. His brows pinch together as he tries to understand the source of this feeling, as if he was a young girl who is by the boy she's head over heels for. It made the silence feel even more awkward for him — mind wandering to a place it definitely shouldn't. Suddenly a question pops into his mind, posture straightening. That immediately caught the dragon's attention, thick brows raising ever so slightly with his curiosity. “ What time is it? ”

“ Late. Qīnghuá should get some rest. ” Despite the bluntness of his statement the brunet remained confused, glancing around the room for.. A second bed? Maybe a blanket on the floor, but his search was horribly unsuccessful. “ We can share the bed. ” At those words Shàng Qīnghuá’s face grew red with embarrassment considering his previous desperate search.. “ Are you sure..? ”

“ Did I stutter? ”

No.. No he didn’t at all. The brunet anxiously climbs into the bed, slowly pulling his boots from his feet. “ If you want me out it's too late now ” He mumbles as he flops onto the soft bed, oh it was so much more comfortable than his own bed! Surely this was the most expensive bed he's ever touched.. Lost in thought he hardly noticed the bed being weighed down by the other man. He could feel all the hard work of today turn into a dull ache in his back, a few parts of his spine popping with the starfish position he'd taken. It's very comfortable if you haven't been able to lay down properly in a while!

As he drifts further into relaxation his eyes slowly flutter shut, brain becoming far more active with the weight of the situation. So.. He’d saved a harmed dragon, one who claimed to know him. Said dragon followed him to his house only to.. Kidnap him? Although he showed no signs of aggression, Shàng Qīnghuá had to get back to An Ding Peak! His sage orbs slowly open, the unfamiliar ceiling making his heart sink to his stomach. Was he really in danger? Would Mòběi—Jūn take advantage of his willingness to follow him? If he could escape.. If he could escape would he be okay? Could he escape? He turns his head to watch Mòběi—Jūn’s relaxed expression, his eyes shut, head dipping into the soft pillow beneath his head.. He actually hadn't gotten the chance to examine his features close up; so he took advantage of this.

His small body sits up from the warm covers, watching the dragon with knit brows. What is happening? Why exactly am I the target of this dragon's interest? I am nothing special. I am only an ordinary human. Well.. he didn't plan on sticking around to find out. As his body emerges from the warmth of the bed he's immediately hit with a frigid temperature he hadn't noticed in Mòběi—Jūn’s arms. Actually.. Would he even make it if he left? Who knew how cold it was outside of the castle. One of his small hands comes to run through his hair, nose scrunching up. Am I actually trapped? Oh God. He turns around, glancing to what he thought was the sleeping dragon's figure only to see that he was now resting like a cat.. Like a cat who was watching his prey desperately trying to run away. The sight made him gulp. So he wasn’t asleep? He was waiting to see what I'd do… Sneaky dragon. “ Why don't you come to bed, Qīnghuá. You have no need to be so on edge. If I wanted you dead you would have been dead the moment you approached me. ” His low voice spoke from the other side of the room.

Even if he was nowhere near Shàng Qīnghuá could feel his voice like electricity through his spine, sending his feet moving before his brain could argue. “ You are smart. ” He mumbled as he reluctantly crawled under the covered again.

“ Would you expect less from a king? ”

A Dragon's Lost Memories.

Thud

A loud noise echoes through the forest, the sound of branches snapping in the distance suddenly stopping. The impact of the fall from the distance sent a small burst of air towards him. Shàng Qīnghuá is frozen in place, chocolate orbs wide in fear. The stench of blood suddenly filling the air caused the man to scramble to his feet, leaving behind the flowers he'd been occupied with. So much for a peaceful day!!

The leaves under his feet crunch as he stumbles towards the smell. Could it be dangerous? Of course, but it could also be an animal in danger — or! Or a person! Large trees cover the top of the path, and sunlight sporadically makes it through the thick forest of leaves. “ Hello? ” The small man calls out to the silent forest.

His hands come to his face, sitting on either side of his mouth in an attempt to make his voice louder. “ Helllooo? ” A sudden, loud rumble was given in response, causing him to freeze on the spot. What the hell? There were few creatures that could sound like that, especially with enough force to shake the ground beneath him.

More light began to peek through the trees, less sporadically. Ah. This must have been close to where the creature had fallen. He picks up his speed, his feet moving faster than his brain. Soon he was met with a distant blue figure in an opening of trees. The scent of blood grew stronger with every step he took, meaning that this was the culprit of the loud noise — it had to be!

Now that his running had slowed, the creature was becoming more clear… It was a dragon. A creature he had never dealt with, so he had to be cautious. “ Hey.. Hey! I'm not going to hurt you.. ” Shàng Qīnghuá calls out, watching the dragon attempt to crawl back. The dragon is obviously unsure about a stranger approaching it, but it doesn't seem aggressive immediately. That's already a good sign!

Daring enough to do so, he takes another step forward, his orbs fixated on the maw of the large beast. “ I promise, I'm only here to help. ” The dragon made no attempts to attack, yet its sapphire eyes seemed enraged at the thought of the small brunet approaching. Loud grumbling as Shàng Qīnghuá began to strip off his outer layer of clothes. Obviously, the man was well aware that this wouldn't cover much of the creature, but it was still better than nothing!

Another slow step forward, glancing down at the damage, only one talon was covered in blood; that blood was beginning to... crystalize? The sight was actually rather beautiful—a large midnight blue claw covered in dark red blood that almost froze over as if it were only water. Qīnghuá slowly shook his head. It must be an ice dragon. He slowly covered the wound with his sage robes, flattening it as he pressed his hands onto the freezing talon.

The coldness sent a shiver down his spine, but he still channeled his spiritual energy into the beast to help it heal its wound. “ I know I can't help all that much, but I will… try? ” The sage robes are now a deep red, and under them he could feel the wound freeze over like a pond. The sensation was unnerving, and very unpleasant.. but he's helping! Somehow though, this situation felt familiar; it felt as if he'd done this before? All he'd ever done was care for small animals he stumbled across that were hurt if they weren't actively being hunted.. he'd never assisted a dragon.

He'd been so lost in focus that he didn't notice the large sapphire orb peering at him from right beside his head. As soon as he's snapped back into reality, he yelps in surprise, stumbling down to the ground with large eyes. Oh fuck I forgot how big it is. “ U—uhm? I can go now? I've done what I came to do! ” And with that, the brunet scrambles back to his feet, speeding away! There's no way he's getting eaten today.

With the comfort of no shuffling or stomping behind him, he assumed the dragon had potentially fallen asleep, or the dragon was staring at him while he scurried off like a frightened animal. Either way, he wouldn't have to deal with it again.. hopefully!

…

… Yeah, his luck is not that good

And of course this thought was correct: quickly spinning on his heels, he's met with a man? His brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the dragon.. was it? Qīnghuá stood mid chest compared to this man! Navy silk robes hung loosely around his body, midnight blue scales hugging his cheekbones and then oddly throughout the rest of his body; a large tail dragged on the ground behind him; and a deep, almost black set of horns stuck out from his long, raven-colored hair. Shàng Qīnghuá's bloodied robe hanging from his arm.

The brunet was absolutely dumbfounded, his mouth open with the shock of the beauty of the man who stood in front of him. He seemed perfect — far too perfect! “ Who… Are you, exactly? ” The smaller man is frozen in place. The dragon seems amused by this response, brows raising and a small hum from his throat. This made Qīnghuá even more nervous, and he began to fidget with his hands. “ Should I know who you are? ”

This seems to get his attention, the previous amusement easily icing over. “ What do you mean? ” The man says, voice deep and.. annoyed? “ I don't know who you are? ” The dragon goes silent after this, brows pinched together in an emotion Shàng Qīnghuá couldn't decipher.

“ Do you really not remember me? ”

“No, I don't? ” This sentence hurts Qīnghuá to say, but he doesn't understand why. It felt as if his heart had been squeezed, and he could tell the dragon wasn't pleased either. His expression continued to grow darker. What was the brunet to do? If he didn't remember, he didn't remember, though he's sure he'd remember meeting a very handsome dragon.

“.. I am Mòběi—Jūn. ”

“ O — okay M — ”

“ You will refer to me as ‘ my king ’ ”

" Yes.. My king? ” The brunet lets out an awkward laugh, and Mòběi—Jūn's face seems to ease just the slightest bit of tension. Shàng Qīnghuá counts that as a win.

#moshang #scumbag self saving system #svsss fic #svsss fanfiction #svsss #moshang fic #Moshang fanfiction #Dragon mobei-jun #Dragon Shang Qīnghuá

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paper-aiirplane · 11 months

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Shàng Qīnghuá continues down the wooded path, the sounds of birds chirping filling the silence between the two men. Mòběi—Jūn hadn't left his side, not since he'd helped heal his talons in his full dragon form. If he had any sense of self preservation, he would take any opportunity to shut up and run far away; but that was not the case! He's curious to learn more about the dragon, especially if he's just going to trot behind him like a lost puppy.

“ So.. ” The smaller man is met with silence, only the patting of his feet behind him even signifies Mòběi—Jūn was even still there. Still following him. “ What happened to you? ” There is another moment of silence, so Shàng Qīnghuá goes to speak. As soon as his mouth opens he's cut off. “ hunters. ” The dragon replied. A short answer.. But at least he's talking now. He shuts his mouth..

“ Where are you from? ” Qīnghuá chirps, chocolate orbs scanning over the taller man's features once more. Trying to convince himself this was a real person.. well.. dragon? “ North. ” Mòběi—Jūn's sapphire hues remain fixated on the path.. he moved so gracefully it was hard not to get caught up staring. His raven-locks flowing behind him in such a delicate manner.. Ah he was going to swoon if he stared any longer.

His freckled cheeks already began to burn, dusting to a light shade of pink.. he was sure of it! “ is it c — ” He mentally face-palms.. Obviously it was cold! He was an ice dragon, if it weren't could he really survive? “ Mhm. ” A small noise that almost resembled a laugh followed the response. The brunet tilts his head back up to meet the dragon's gaze. Surprise visible in his expression that he'd actually replied.. and seemed humored by it. “ You were once familiar with it. ” Now his voice seemed to hold some form of sentiment, something Qīnghuá overlooked.

Perhaps he'd simply been thinking out loud about a loved one?

Dragon's do that.. yeah…?

Well anyone can.

Cang Qiong Mountain coming into view only makes the brunet realize how far they've gone. How far they've gone while he absentmindedly steered a stranger to his home. “ Are you going to be able to get home? ” No response. Shàng Qīnghuá groans and turns to face the man only to be met with a large sapphire eye again. He yelps and falls back onto his ass with a groan. “ Please stop doing that, Mo — my king. ” I am going to cry if you do it again! Before the man can even think of attempting to get up, he's thrown onto the dragon's neck; quick to grab onto his horns.

The dragon's body temperature makes the brunet wish to recoil, scramble away so as to not be frozen to death!

“ My king? ” Soon the sound of wings flapping filled his ears, it was so loud he tried to tune it out. A dull ache rang through his head — fuck he wished he had some ear plugs. “ B — Bad time to say this but I'm a little afraid of h — Ahh! ” Mòběi—Jūn began moving, gliding so smoothly through the air he'd almost forgotten he was on a dragon. “ Are we.. returning to my home? It's.. it's there! ” he throws his hand forward to point.. but soon realizes he's well.. not in his eyesight. So, very lightly he taps his scales in the direction he needed to head, which was easily decoded by Mòběi—Jūn.

They now circled above An Ding Peak like hungry vultures. “ How will we get down without anyone noticing us? ” Suddenly the surface underneath him is gone, and Shàng Qīnghuá begins to yell. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. This is it. I talked too much! I'm done for! The dragon's body had been switched to large arms that now held them in the air. Of course the smaller man had been far too occupied with the idea that he was about to be very sweetly greeted by death; he didn't dare open his eyes. “ Which is yours? ”

All of Qīnghuá's breath returned at once, eyes snapping open. Oh. Oh? He wasn't dead! Slowly the man glances down at the small buildings, feeling nauseous at the image of his home being nothing more than specs in the distance. “ uhm.. ah.. that one. ” This time, his pointing is actually useful. His arms are wrapped tightly around the dragon's neck now, trying his best to not focus on the height. Sailing downwards his grip became even tighter, face pressing into the muscle of his shoulder. Shockingly enough they landed with absolutely none of the force Shàng Qīnghuá was expecting.. and he was even placed down gently!

“ A — ah.. come.. with me. ” Well! There's no getting out of this now that he's flown me to my house, huh? So marching forward he approached the small wooden house, he wasn't living with someone so he had only asked for a small house once he was promoted to Peak Lord.. he had no desire for a large house, only wishing to be comfortable. Proudly he swings his door open! With maybe a little too much force because it rushes back, full force and is only stopped by a clawed hand holding it back. Shàng Qīnghuá lets out a sheepish chuckle as he walks in, maybe he was a little too confident. “ Would you like some.. tea? Water? U.. uhm ice water? ”

“ Tea. ” A bow of Shàng Qīnghuá's cranium is given on return, turning to the tea that had been left out since before he'd left. That should be alright, no? An ice dragon wouldn't need warm tea.. so he carefully pours it into a cup, shuffling over to the dark wood table the dragon had decided to sit at. Gingerly sitting himself across from the dragon. “ I am Shàng Qīnghuá. I don't know if I ever mentioned my name! ” Mòběi—Jūn slowly nods. “ Qīnghuá. That is what I will call you. ”

The Peak Lord grins, slowly nodding. “ Alright. That's fine. Why were you all the way over here if you're from the North, if I may ask? ” Mòběi—Jūn stares down at the glass, swirling around the liquid inside. He made no effort to talk, so the brunet settled on not getting an answer for that question. “ Are you royalty? ” Mòběi—Jūn raises a single brow as if he's stupid for even asking. Ah. So.. yes?

After a full day of questioning, Shàng Qīnghuá feels like he'd hit a dead end. No matter what he asked, the dragon would at least try to reply.. and that was something? Leaning back in his chair the brunet suddenly gets an idea.. ‘ You were once familiar with it. ’ his gaze cautiously meets Mòběi—Jūn's this time. Why would the dragon even willingly answer him? Well.. if he didn't he could mark it as him just being stubborn. He sucks in a long breath, closing his eyes. “ Who were you referring to when you said that? ” The dragon only blinks in confusion. “ What? ”

Shàng Qīnghuá hesitantly opens his eyes, meeting the icy sapphire gaze. “ ‘ You were once familiar with it.’ What did that mean? Who was? Why didn't you attack me? ” Mòběi—Jūn this time only remained silent for a moment. His gaze was unable to meet Qīnghuá's. “ I think it is time to rest now. ” The brunet sits upright, resting his elbows on the table to continue his questioning. “ Who? ” The dragon remains silent, lazily sipping on the almost frozen tea.

The silence between them lasted much longer than the shorter man had hoped, but it was obvious Mòběi—Jūn had no intention of answering him. “ Fine. You will sleep in the guest be — oh I don't have one of those. ” Shàng Qīnghuá gives an anxious grin. He hadn't been ready for visitors, nor did he really have room for one. “ I will sleep in here, you're free to take the bed. ” And with no fuss the taller man stood up, leaving whatever was left or the tea.. slushy and simply walked off, peeking until he found the bedroom. The door was shut and Qīnghuá was alone. Again.

Being alone was something he was familiar with, very familiar with. Though the idea of being by himself, especially with another person lounging in his home felt wrong.

There was no harm trying to catch up on work, was there? Slowly he pushed the chair out from under him, the scraping of the wood against the floors filling the silence. Taking a few steps he decides to shuffle his study which was honestly a mess. Paper was scattered everywhere on the floor, ink staining the dark table. “ home sweet home.. ” he mumbles to himself as he sits down at the table, mindlessly flipping through papers until he eventually flattens onto the desk. Slowly drifting off into sleep. It wasn't his first time passing out at his desk.. so he wasn't too worried about it.

A Dragon's Lost Memories.

Thud

…

… Yeah, his luck is not that good

“ Do you really not remember me? ”

“.. I am Mòběi—Jūn. ”

“ O — okay M — ”

“ You will refer to me as ‘ my king ’ ”

" Yes.. My king? ” The brunet lets out an awkward laugh, and Mòběi—Jūn's face seems to ease just the slightest bit of tension. Shàng Qīnghuá counts that as a win.

#moshang #scumbag self saving system #svsss fic #svsss fanfiction #svsss #moshang fic #Moshang fanfiction #Dragon mobei-jun #Dragon Shang Qīnghuá

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paper-aiirplane · 1 year

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The second sunday of May. Mothers day, something most people were sentimental about. For Shàng Qīnghuá this day merely felt like a taunt, a reminder that both of his parents had moved on to have better lives. That he was forgotten about.

Picking up his phone he stares down at the bright screen, the last message he'd sent his mom was left unanswered.. ‘ Happy Mother's day 🎉 ’ from a few years prior. Why would he attempt this time?

His phone slips from his hand, landing on his chest. Tears begin to prick the corners of his eyes as he stares up at the dark ceiling. Why had he ever even tried? It was almost as if he'd never existed to her, as if he were nothing more than an annoyance she had to deal with when living with him.

“ Happy Mother's day, loving mom I wish I had. ” The pain dilutes the underlying anger in his words as he speaks to the air; filling the silence of the cramped room.

#scumbag self saving system #svsss #svsss fic #shang qinghua #Shang qinghua angst #Angst #sqh #svsss sqh #Sqh angst #Mothers day angst #Happy mothers day 🎉🎉

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paper-aiirplane · 1 year

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Fingers trace the outline of his face in the mirror, a frown on his lips. Has he always looked so feminine? Have his cheeks always been so round? His other hand comes to his face, carefully pulling at the skin. Is this why he had always been looked over? The hand on his cheek makes its way up to his messy bun, pulling the hair tie from it. Brunet locks falling down lazily across his shoulders.

Should I cut my hair?

Will it make me pass as a man?

His eyes drop to his phone, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Looking at this phone now would only be a mockery, only make his situation worse. No one would care if he just disappeared — actually, no one would even notice. He didn't have any friends, and his parents would just ignore it.

Was life meant to be so unfair? Standing in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror at 4:00 am because he couldn't sleep. His dysphoria getting so bad he felt like he was about to vomit. He didn't look like a man, not in his mind.

His body is too round, his waist is too small. His hips are too big. His face is too soft. His lips are too big.

The man's breath grows unsteady as he scans his features over again.

All he wanted was to pass well enough, would that make people want to actually associate with him? Would it make people come into his life and stay?

#scumbag self saving system #svsss #svsss fic #shang qinghua #Dysphoria #Dysphoria fic #vent fic #svsss sqh #sqh

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paper-aiirplane · 1 year

Text

A Dragon's Lost Memories.

Thud

…

… Yeah, his luck is not that good

“ Do you really not remember me? ”

“.. I am Mòběi—Jūn. ”

“ O — okay M — ”

“ You will refer to me as ‘ my king ’ ”

" Yes.. My king? ” The brunet lets out an awkward laugh, and Mòběi—Jūn's face seems to ease just the slightest bit of tension. Shàng Qīnghuá counts that as a win.

#moshang #scumbag self saving system #svsss fic #svsss fanfiction #svsss #moshang fic #Moshang fanfiction #Dragon mobei-jun #Dragon Shang Qīnghuá

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