#queenbowa

Per usual, I primarily wrote for TBHX. Not per usual, I posted for a wider variety of pairings and situations where writing those pairings made my heart skip a beat 💜

The Ocean of Hands and Teeth | Wrice, NiceWreck | Mature | 1.6k

He’d promise nothing if not his heart, if not obsession, if not his mouth, for a chance with him. For a life with him. For the memories, for the grave, if he could latch himself to his body like an angler to his mate. And that was the only thing he demanded while he pulled him back by his teeth, while he dragged Wreck from the doorway just to shut the door to make him drenched. And all fancy words and the praises just to drown the man on the floor. He would joke around that a real one was as pleasurable if he wanted.

I’m More Of A Visual Kind Of Learner If You Need Me For My Hands | Nicest, LingNice | Teen | 5.1k

Nice—accidentally—breaks his right thumb while trying to impress Com with his skills. What he doesn’t know is that’s exactly how he stole the man’s coveted heart. LingNice 2026 Bingo: Age Gap

These Hands of Mine Aren’t The Reason You’ll Be Crawling Out From My Mouth | ShengLing, CommonHealer | Mature | 3.4k

Weeks after he disappeared from the public’s eye without a sound, The Commoner wakes up to an angel—or a fallen one—in his mouth. Or that’s the gist of it when he’s keening. Or that’s the gist of it when he’s mauled. Or that’s reality when the blow flies make it of out here from his lungs. And there might be hundreds in his heart too and his organs underneath, like the grains of sand for a timer—for a bell toll—for his soul. But no one snatches him but these teeth. But no one snatches him but this mouth. But no one squeezes him until he’s bleeding, until his blood says he’s alive. And there might be more to it than he notices when he peers up at those eyes. There might be none of it when he hitches, when he blurts out, demanding more. Yet these soft sounds are for no one but the blow flies in the air. And the angel too. Or the devil. Or the former X, Ah Sheng.

You Remind Me What It Feels Like To Have A Dead Bird In My Mouth | QueenBowa | Mature | 2.1k

When Liu Yuwei has her period her embarrassment is on the roof, but there’s nothing horrible about it happening while she’s fisted in these sheets. And Bowa promises with all her heart, with all her mouth too, with all her wrist, while the three of these almost battle for the first drop in those hairs.

With The Stars Above Us And The Earth Below | Nicest, NiceLing | General | 1.8k

On the first night of a Commission-sponsored camping trip to inspire the future heroes of tomorrow, The Commoner burns himself three times when he’s telling a story around the fire. The first time’s above the fire. The second time’s with a s’more. And then the third time’s incognito when he’s marked up like a lover.

Contorted Prophet | Nicest, NiceLing | Teen | 5.6k

For the God of Victory has no impetus for a disciple who doesn’t kill. Victory—by its very nature—requires someone to take the fall. And these traitors, these men and women, these familiar faces, these friends, have made their own choice for discipleship. And their fallen blood shall be payment. Yet that is victory for Chancellor Shang. That is victory amongst the rest. That is victory to tip a nation, to have it spiraling until it’s hell. And it’s not a deity’s—if it matters, if there are real ones upon the earth. But if actual ones did exist, why should false gods have a throne.

Hallowed Be Thy Tongue | Nicest, NiceLing | Mature | 20k

“In the name of the Father. Of the Son. Of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me—Father…” And then he pauses. He rolls the dagger point beneath a thumb. It wouldn’t take much for him to bleed. He strokes the tip again. He saunters on. And there’re the rough scales—and the jagged ones—at the base of this when he strolls. He works the rest of the tail like a rosary. He doesn’t pray yet. Yet he could. “Bless me. Father Nice. I’ve come before you, for I have sinned. My last confession was on Wednesday. My human nature makes me rot. I pray the parts of me that are dying shall be brought back by His love.” Nice is smart enough not to comment what he thought he heard—out of that mouth. Yet it might be obvious by his tail. It surges much more to snare a wrist. And an arm—too. And an elbow. And a shoulder. And near a cheek. And the tip of it wants an answer: it taps the right side of Lin Ling’s mouth, it taps the left side like a finger, it slides back again for the right. And the tip is hot. But he’s hotter. Every breath of his is like a flame. And like a dazzled moth Nice is weak. And his dirty mouth has him rapt.

By The Time You Find Me There’ll Be Nothing—But Your Initials On My Tongue | Mature | 2.6k

Lin Ling’s waist-deep in the universe occupying Nice’s body. But it’s hard for Nice to really focus. He thinks the worship is undeserved. LingNice 2026 Bingo: Body Worship

The Last Time You Had To Finger Me There Was No Room For Even God | Wrice, NiceWreck | Mature | 3k