#word of honor fic

[minnarr]

No Shortage of Nights

Rating: M

Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu, Gu Miaomiao & Wen Kexing & Wen Ruyu, Qin Huaizhang & Zhou Zishu, Qin Huaizhang & Wen Kexing

Zhou Zishu smiled. It was pleasant to be transparent to this man, he thought. Weeks of traveling and days in his bed had undone the masks he had spent years fashioning. “I’m thinking we should pay your master a visit.” He watched shock break across Wen Kexing’s face, only to smooth out quickly. “We should?” he said.

Sequel to Millions of Suns Left, where, shortly after Qin Jiuxiao's death, canon Zhou Zishu was thrown into an alternate universe where Wen Kexing is part of Siji Manor and almost everyone who was dead is still alive.

(Yes, that's Han Ye from Legend of Anle. I wanted a Gong Jun who looked more like Siji Disciple!WKX)

[incandescentflower]

2023 Fic Roundup

I've been doing this for the last few years and it's been a satisfying exercise so time to take a look at my AO3 and see what I did this year for writing.

A full list of all my fic can be found here on tumblr or on my AO3. (sometimes I forget to update my tumblr list but I end up catching up eventually). I also tag posts about my fic with the incredibly creative tag "my fic."

After a few absolutely maniacal years of writing, this year slowed down. I missed it, but life and more responsibilities at work got in the way. Still, there were some satisfying accomplishments.

Words posted: 178,315

Fics posted: 14 - less than half of what I wrote last year :'(

Fics completed: 13 (still one wip nagging at me, sigh)

Fandoms written in: Cherry Magic Th, Bad Buddy, Be My Favorite, The Eclipse, My Tooth Your Love, Never Let Me Go, Our Dating Sim, Semantic Error, Word of Honor

Fandom most written in both word count and fics:

Bad Buddy with 3 fics (1 wip) and 59, 071 wc

Fic with most hits, kudos and comments: Somebody to You for Semantic Error - an arranged marriage AU

Other notable fics I wrote this year:

I finished Echoes in the Dark, a fic I started about a month after Word of Honor aired and then I was distracted by some other fandom events. It's an AU where Zhou Zishu is also kidnapped by the Ghost Valley master when he and Wen Kexing were children. There's great art for it from the wip big bang and I'm really proud of it.

I also wrote sending wishes into the sky, a fic focused on Wen Kexing's relationship with Gu Xiang and processing her death for a discord exchange that I ended up fully outlining in a few hours and finishing at warp speed because I knew exactly what I was trying to do with it.

And a few one shots for Our Dating Sim that I even feel warm and fuzzy when I read them.

Plus finally finishing the Semantic Error fic I linked above that I started in 2022.

My writing this year was dominated by thai bl shows, which is interesting since I had not written for any thai bl until Bad Buddy. But I did a few exchanges (one in bbs fandom and one in GMM fandom) so that definitely made it more likely for me to write them.

Last year I said my writing goals will be to continue to work on finding a balance between catching inspiration when it comes and keeping going when a story requires more detailed work and sustained attention. This remains a continued goal. I finally finished two long standing wips this year and I have one more to go.

Also, related, getting better at outlining longer plots. haha.

For 2024, I will finish The Triple N Project if it is the last thing I do. I would also like to write some more for Cherry Magic Thailand and go back to a reincarnation AU I started for The Devil Judge long ago.

(all stats are for fic finished in 2023 only, my 2022 and 2021 posts are here)

[concealedrecs]

Fic: you're the trouble that I always find

Author: sundiscus

Fandom: Word of Honor

Pairing: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu

Rating: Mature

Length: 27296

Recommendation: This is a gorgeous and really intricate story, that really digs into what is so good about time loops (or in this case, dreamsharing that feels like time loops). I recently refound this fic, probably on the For You page on Twitter because I'm a monster and I love it. Gorgeous.

[omgpurplefattie]

Rong Changqing returns from his work trip; Baiyi welcomes him. The world has come far, but there are still miles to go.

Sorry, I end this a day late because of my Malvochka, who came to me on Saturday. I couldn't possibly write that day.

[ash-and-starlight]

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) chapter 10

“You came looking for me,” Sokka says. Zuko’s already soft eyes melt further.

“Of course I came looking for you,” he says. Like it’s obvious. Like it doesn’t knock the earth off its axis.

For a second, Sokka forgets about the pain, past and present. All he feels is a treacherous bubble of hope – inside his chest, under his skin, stuck in his throat.

or read it from the beginning if you haven’t

[cosmic-seer]

B E H O L D!

Companions to this and this, insPIRED BY THIS [written by @dipplinduo, go read it it’s got me down bad].

[chaos0pikachu]

sometimes I think about xie wang from Word of Honor and I'm like baby, honey, chepito, you have like two lesbians who'd kill for you, and two bisexual women who had been burned by men in horrific ways who were all telling you during Hair Braiding Hours in between slitting throats and looking for the glazed donut that you 👏 deserve 👏👏 better 👏👏 you are pretty enough to get a new sugar daddy who doesn't got twinks - sorry, nephews~~~ - on the side like you're not even the main baby??? your smokey eye is to good for this, your fit is to tight for this, stop letting that man treat you like a grape jolly rancher and stand up!!!

and then he didn't listen and got eaten by snow mountain rip XW this is what happens when you don't listen to the lesbians

[revenantghost]

You know, I've read a lot of fics where Vash can say "I love you" to Wolfwood and Wolfwood can't, but what about the other way around?

A Vash that hasn't allowed himself that word in 150 years?

A Vash that doesn't know if he can even feel love?

A Vash that knows he doesn't deserve it, doesn't even want it?

(But oh, he does he does he does, he wants it more than anything.

And that's why he can never give it the power of a spoken word.)

[minnarr]

drifter on the wind, the soil waits below (ch 1/?)

Rating: T

Warnings: So far none

Relationships: Original Female Character & Deng Kuan & Gao Xiaolian, Original Female Character & Mo Weixu, Deng Kuan & Gao Xiaolian, Original Female Character/Zhang Chengling

Something is going on in Yueyang. Four years ago, Yun Shuying’s husband stuck his nose into his teachers’ relationship, and everything turned out just fine. Now, it looks like Deng Kuan and Gao Xiaolian aren’t going to get married after all, and Yun Shuying thinks it’s her turn to meddle. But as she gets embroiled in her friends’ lives, she learns that the things they want aren’t so simple—and what she wants may be changing as well.

read chapter on AO3

under the cut: timelines

It’s been four years, and the kids are mostly in their twenties. Didn’t expect to write a Word of Honor fic so concerned with marriage and (more marginally) babies, but we’re looking at a generation that is coming into its own and flourishing, so that’s just part of it! 

Speaking of timeline, here’s a look at the points that are relevant to this fic right now:

4 years before trembling (-4) - the end of Word of Honor. This runs under the assumption that the events of the show took about a year, from the spring ZCL was 14 to the spring he was 15.

0 - Spring-Autumn: the events of trembling. Autumn: the events of the tree may fall, but the leaf remembers. Winter: Yun Shuying and Mo Weixu spend their first winter at Four Seasons Manor.

+1 - Spring: the events of a spring wind comes. Autumn: Chengling and Shuying get married.

+2 - Summer: Bi Xingming and You Chunjian get married. 

+3 - Sometime during this year, Bi Yongning is born.

+4 - Spring: drifter on the wind begins.   

Everyone’s current ages:

Yun Shuying: 25 Mo Weixu (and Wenzhou): 37 Gao Xiaolian: 27 Deng Kuan: 31 Feng Yan: 22 Zhang Chengling: 23 Bi Xingming: 28 You Chunjian: 24

I know four years seems like a long timeskip to make, but I wanted them to have time to settle into their new status quo after getting married. They’ve really only had two full years of the pattern they agreed to when they got engaged: winters at Four Seasons Manor, and letters and maybe visits in between. That’s not a long time, even at that age. It seemed like a nice compromise between that and how long Gao Xiaolian and Deng Kuan can reasonably drag things out without committing to a marriage. (Frankly: they are probably far past that point, but lucky in that Yueyang doesn’t have as much power left to fight over, and the people who stuck with them are the loyal ones).

[incandescentflower]

Story Title: Echoes in the Dark Fandom: Word of Honor Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31506443/ Summary: An AU where Zhou Zishu was kidnapped by the Ghost Valley Master as a child. Warnings: No archive warnings apply, Canon Typical Violence Characters: Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing, Gu Xiang, Luo Fumeng Pairings: Zhou Zishu/Wen Kexing When I Started: I started this fic over two years ago fairly soon after Word of Honor aired. How I Lost My Shit: I think I actually did another bang?? lol but yeah, I had life happen and other projects and I always wanted to get back to it. How I Finished My Shit: I have no idea haha. A lot of encouragement from Tenillypo and the wonderful art by Ange. I'm still completely dumbstruck when I look at both pieces. I love them so much!

[necrotic-nephilim]

there is not enough femslash in batcest circles. the girls deserve to be just as weird about each other as the boys are. if BruDick gets to be weird father/son/brothers/lovers/friends/rivals/soulmates then it is only fair that Babs/Cass get to be mother/daughter/sisters/lovers too. Something about that deep intrinsic but undefinable love that is born out of trauma, especially if you consider Cass not knowing what healthy love looks like in the first place. i think it's fun and deserves just as much fandom content.

besides that, you can get even more niche with rarepairs like Helena/Steph. Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma is already a fantastic comic and even though it's their only real canon interaction it has so much potential. very comparable to TimJay in how Helena tries to get Steph to understand her morals and the corruption you could play with it.

batman: huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma (1998)

that comic also highlights on how both Steph and Helena are outcasts of the Batfamily and don't have the approval of Bruce to be doing what they do in "his city". I think there's so much Potential in Helena taking Steph under her wing because Bruce won't let her in and it becomes a weird codependent toxic sapphic mess. I think the protectiveness Helena feels over Steph from the get-go is so clear and the way she wants to look out for Steph, wants to make sure Steph understands the real world? I love them. Helena should be allowed to steal Steph, actually. I think it'd be fun.

there are a lot of other possibilities too like Babs/Steph or even getting weird with Helena Bertinelli/Helena Wayne and the existential question of "is it selfcest or not." But these two specifically live in my head rent-free, especially Helena/Steph and one day I'll convince everyone else to ship it too.

[wickmitz]

Do u actually ship rocky and mitzi?

to try and be as simple as possible, i suppose i do ship them ; i’m particularly drawn by their dynamic and have long since grown enamored with it … so, naturally, i enjoy turning them over in my head and shoving them together, seeing all the possible ways they fit and how they function when glued together. rocky’s feelings for mitzi are so intense and metaphorical that there’s a lot of ground to run with, honestly. it’s not a black and white relationship where they fit neatly under one label or another either, hence my constant use of the term ‘a secret third thing’ for them overall. there’s romance, obsession, desperation, platonic associations, and a thousand other factors embedded into what they have. rocky simply ‘seeing mitzi as a mother figure’ or ‘being totally in love with her in a traditional sense’ just doesn’t capture them with the justice they deserve. it’s more … muddled than that. rocky, at this point in time, is completely incapable of maintaining love anyway, and mitzi certainly isn’t any better either. in a context where i envision them together, that aspect is a big part of things : where they click together due to their inability to sustain a healthy and stereotypical romantic bond, and thus accidentally fuel each other’s unhappy paths. it’s easy to see how mitzi does this to rocky! but rocky is capable of doing it to her as well, what with his all-consuming need to be who she relies on and to restore the lackadaisy to it’s previous glory for himself and her. he enables her and she enables him, even if it’s subconscious and accidental. while there is undeniable fondness and care there, they are also walking down this path hand-in-hand, tugging each other along when one of then falters or pauses. so, to me, it’s not hard imagining things becoming closer and more intimate … who doesn’t want to be smashed together against someone who gives you all the validation you crave and never shuns you, twisting all your awful deeds into something good and believing you righteous at all times. it’s addicting! and natural. while rocky obviously would enjoy such a relationship, so would mitzi at this point in her life. where she’s exhausted and feels particularly ugly within, and is currently all alone.

they also would click in ways that wouldn’t force them to abandon how they currently go about romance. mitzi needs to spend a good portion of her day thinking about her dead husband and nobody else, meanwhile rocky is very enamored with being a knight in shining armor so to speak, only able to express himself through extreme devotion, a thing that ( as said by crew members on stream ) can’t singlehandedly keep a relationship afloat … normally. but mitzi can deal with rocky’s rather eccentric and destructive behavior, can take the only thing he can offer and accept it wholeheartedly, because she couldn’t handle anything more normal or mature right now. and rocky, despite his occasional displays of territorial behavior, never bats an eye at or feels inferior to mitzi’s atlas obsession. this wouldn’t be the case in other relationships, where both of them would have to change or grow in some way in order to keep the love stable and secure. there would be things they’d have to give up, or be vulnerable about, and both of them are too stubborn for that at this point. a random lover would always be a second thought compared to the lackadaisy.

( now, of course, i ship mitzi and rocky with other people! and i’m very interested in these bonds forming during canon’s events. but it’d either be an unhealthy relationship, due to everything i said above, or a happier sort of take on things : where mitzi and rocky are pulled from their minds’ unraveling edges and are both given the care, patience, and understanding they both need. one where they can set aside the lackadaisy for a moment or two, and can find genuine happiness somewhere else. i never see them as fully moving on from it, nor do i see mitzi fully giving up atlas or rocky fully giving up mitzi, but things can be softened and less insane. sometimes! )

now, is this healthy? no. but is this me saying they should be surgically removed from one another because they make each other ‘worse’? also no! i adore them in every sense of the word and acting like there aren’t positives attached to their dynamic would, frankly, be stupid of me. they are there for each other in their worse moments and approach each other with kindness, something they don’t really get from others anymore. they are genuinely happy to be in each other’s presence and have a habit of lifting each other up, or providing each other some much needed warmth on a bad day. you see it many times in the comic, situations where mitzi is devestated, and rocky rushes in to comfort her ; and he always succeeds in some way, wiggling that severe expression off her face and getting her to smile, even if it’s small and weak. and rocky loves that! it makes him happy to be able to ease her heartache and worries so. it makes him feel useful and needed, and she’s one of the only people in his life to give him even a sliver of praise here or there. here are some examples i can remember off the top of my head :

and while there isn’t many examples of mitzi praising rocky, she is also still one of the few people who shows concern over him and asks after him. there are also two scenes, in the pilot and in the comic, where rocky messes up big time, and mitzi has every right to be frustrated with him. she could yell, she could get mean, like rocky is so used to, but instead … she sucks it in and simply lets it go. this happens with the pig farmers, but also in the pilot most notably! where the second she realizes how hard rocky is taking her words, her reasonable and sympathetic irritation at things not working out, she backtracks. she forces those emotions away and simply says this, earnestly and kindly, and wipes the devestation off rocky’s face :

as much of an accidental negative influence they can have on each other, there’s also a more purposeful positive influence that is inherent in their dynamic. i wouldn’t ever want to dismiss that, nor do i enjoy when other people rush to do so themselves, claiming they’re simply no good for each other. well, they claim mitzi is a manipulative person who only sees rocky as a pawn, but i’ll pretend fans are critical of rocky’s many faults as well. the point is : they’re good for each other and to each other! they just happen to have a great capacity to cling and stay where they are rather than doing anything more beneficial or productive. any dynamic in lackadaisy can become toxic in a sense, given the fact that a majority of the characters are prone to indulging in their flaws and chasing what’s familar, what’s most comfortable, with little regard to anyone else. but i find that aspect interesting, and i love rocky/mitzi all the more for their accidental enabling and vastly obscured views.

the more romantic aspects aren’t really something i care too much about, overall. i play around with it and find scenarios where things can bloom in such a way, but them calling each other ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ isn’t something i care for. i do not think mitzi would ever be attracted to rocky in a sappy lovesick way -- she’s above fawning as it is, and is rather methodical about things like passion or adoration nowadays anyway. her eyes can’t exactly sparkle upon seeing rocky spilling syrup all over himself nor can she sigh dreamily at his nonsensical, improv poetry spiels that just burst out of him like water through a broken dam. but they could soften at the corners and she could convince herself of something romantic if it held her the right way. if she felt battered enough to give into it, or was lonely enough to indulge herself in a place she knows she’s wanted. rocky, on the other hand, is a bit easier to imagine here! he would never say no to miss m. and actively wants to ‘keep’ her already … if they were to become an item, an obscure, happenstance item, than he’d embrace it full heartedly! it’s been well established rocky isn’t one to turn down love or affection, so to get it from mitzi of all people? it’d be extremely ooc to even pretend he’d regret it or shy away. he loves her, of course he does, his beautiful dionysus : who unlocks her doors for him to enter, who smiles upon him with her wine soaked lips, who brushes a dainty paw across his shoulder and sings him praises like it doesn’t pain her to say them. she is warm and comforting and soft, and rocky is possessed by a maddening desire to wrap every spaghetti limb he has around her, and never let her go. again, his love is nothing short of all-consuming and obsessive where mitzi is concerned. her devoted acolyte! it would be simple to see how he’d get here in comparison to mitzi’s more wounded and guarded heart. i don’t think rocky fully loves her in only a romantic sense, however! i’m a firm believer that it is a mix of romantic and platonic feelings, an awkward and intensive blend of the two, this sort of combination that isn’t easy to sort through. he does take comfort in the fact she reminds him of a motherly figure, just as much as he genuinely finds her attractive and appealing in a puppy love kind of way. there’s also the fact that rocky is keen on lying to mitzi and wearing masks around her in the name of seeming more amazing in her eyes -- the fact his love for her is metaphorical and personal in equal measure, and the fact mitzi hides herself away from everyone around her. there would be a lot of untangling! a lot of pretending. this is a ship that will always have a multitude of layers and caveats attached to it, so to speak.

but that excites me! i like it! i love a dynamic that i could write endlessly about no matter the context it’s being framed in! how utterly unsurprising it is that the first lackadaisy fic i thought of was one that would focus heavily on these two and what’s happening between them, what could happen. mitzi wallowing in her self-inflicted misery while rocky prowls around her, begging to be useful to her while simultaneously chasing off a suitor of hers that he cannot stand to let near, is quite the image in my mind, and is one i always have looping around in the back of my head. the parallels to atlas/mordecai are an added bonus to this! if rocky is doomed by the narrative then mitzi is the narrative to which he’s bleeding himself upon, you know? that, as well as his own insecure delusions. mitzi, similarly, would easily waste away to nothing or get herself killed while trying to pursue her nostalgic ambitions if it weren’t for rocky being so willing to do the dangerous stuff for her. i think about how mitzi almost got herself killed in skedaddle and how rocky rushed to save her. while zib and ivy care for mitzi, and viktor is obligated to protect her, they are not as quick as rocky is -- nor as recklessly devoted to the point of readily given sacrifice.

anyway! i’m very fond of them, and there are so many scenes and other aspects of their characters that i could spend ages pouring over. this is, genuinely, merely a fraction of my thoughts on them. although i do hope i answered your question, anon! i got a bit carried away and i’m sure a lot of this is hard to parse through by default, but oh well!

[aiyexayen]

I promise im not a bot, and to prove it i'll ask for a hanzhou kiss 🥺 doesnt have to be wholesome, just whatever strikes your fancy

🥹❤️

The first time happens thoughtlessly, almost unintentionally.

Han Ying is 14 and not yet used to his limbs after his recent growth spurt. He didn't know he could have growth spurts before he had access to regular meals. But he can, and he is sure that's why he screwed up his assignment. Regardless of the reason, he is still responsible for ruining Tian Chuang's entire mission today.

And somehow, he has been forgiven. By a man with more mercy than Han Ying knows how to handle.

Anyone else, he is certain, would have thrown him back where he came from.

On his knees before Zhou-shouling, he finds himself too overcome for words of gratitude, reaching instead for the hand hanging idle at Zhou-shouling's side. He grips it in both of his. It's instinct; hasn't he seen so many servants do something like this when their masters bid them?

Han Ying's lips press into the soft skin for just a second before he feels Zhou-shouling's flinch. He looks up in time to catch confusion, smoothing into understanding and...things he doesn't quite recognise.

Qin-xiongdi tells him later, eyes dancing with mirth, that he should have pressed the hand to his forehead, not his mouth--except he shouldn't have done anything of the sort actually and he really has so much to learn about living in society, doesn't he?

Han Ying nods absently, because it's true, but he goes to bed with cheeks warm from the lingering memory of pressure on his lips and the untameable thoughts of a 14 year old mind.

The second time cannot be called an accident, mere months after the first. But neither is it calculated.

They are celebrating Zhou-shouling's twentieth birthday. Or rather, Zhou-shouling and Qin-xiongdi disappeared up to the palace early in the evening to celebrate and Han Ying has waited up alone for sounds of their return, vigilant, something he pretends is not yearning sitting heavy in the aching pit of his stomach.

When they do return it is...surprisingly loud.

Han Ying is very good at what he does, and still there are days when he cannot hear Zhou-shouling approach. The man is not just merciful, not just understanding and patient and full of barely-subdued humour, but also a refined gentleman, clever and skilled beyond measure.

So why is it that tonight Han Ying can hear not only Qin-xiongdi's clomping but Zhou-shouling next to him, stumbling?

He's out the door and down the hall in an instant, adrenaline pumpung, imagining the worst, imagining Zhou-shouling limping, covered in blood--

"'S Ying'er! What're yeu--you--out of bed! Doing! Hah!"

Han Ying stops in his tracks as a thoroughly wasted Zhou Zishu collapses against his hiccoughing, giggling shidi.

"Shixiong got--hc!--he got so drunk," Qin-xiongdi exclaims in the worst loud whisper Han Ying has ever heard. "Can you--hc!--believe it, Han Ying?--hc!"

Well, certainly he can, because it's right before him. What he can't really quite come to terms with is the fond, playful tone wrapped warmly around the unfamiliar Ying'er.

But when his two superiors almost fall over on their next step, Han Ying collects himself and steps in to relieve Qin-xiongdi of his task before he sends them both toppling to the ground.

"Shoul' get that boy some...that boy some more..." Zhou-shouling doesn't finish his thought, trailing off into a sigh as Qin-xiongdi leaves.

One hand grasping a limp arm, one hand firm on broad leather, it's quick work to get Zhou-shouling to his own rooms. But it's also so much closeness--too much for Han Ying to process: a head lolling onto his shoulder; hot breath at his neck and the smell of alcohol; warm weight against his side, so effortlessly trusting.

Ying'er.

Easier to slide under the mantle of duty and attentiveness than even acknowledge it as real, so in silence, he readies Zhou-shouling for bed; without Qin-xiongdi's energy, he seems content to simply drift.

Hydration--water droplets running down the corner of red lips, a strong chin--

Belt--hard leather hitting the floor, a quiet exhale of relief, a soft hum of contentment vibrating under his fingertips--

Boots--what if he slipped and touched that leg--what if he looked up from where he's kneeling and realised the position was just like--

Han Ying, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, tips Zhou-shouling over onto the bed and lifts his feet up to settle him properly. He's practically asleep already, his breathing deep and slow, stray hairs wisping around his cheeks.

Hands, resting easily across his middle. Han Ying lifts them up to tuck the blanket in under them. But perhaps he has tried too hard to not think at all tonight because as he goes to put them back down, determined to not notice Zhou-shouling's exposed neck, he finds himself ghosting his lips across cool fingertips.

What--what is he doing?! He freezes, drops Zhou-shouling's hands as though burnt, and looks up, breath caught.

But his shouling is still fast asleep. Fast asleep and drunk besides, his brain finally catches up and reminds him. Han Ying lets out his breath. He has no right to such intimacy, but he's been given a stay of execution tonight. He had better not waste it.

Carefully, he flees to his own room and doesn't think about anything else at all.

The third time...Han Ying cannot even guess how the third time comes to be.

He is young, and he strives to be good, to be the best. If not in skill than in obedience. It's no longer about debt, it's about loyalty.

But he is 15, going on 16, and even he cannot beat out of himself the independent streak that kept him alive on the streets all those years.

So he finds himself again on his knees, explaining his actions.

"You are right to tell me the truth the first time."

Who would dare try to lie to Zhou Zishu?

Something of his thoughts must show on Han Ying's downturned face because the man in question snorts lightly and adds, "Not all your fellows are as clever as you."

Han Ying keeps his head bowed, but tension drains from him; he would not be receiving such praise if he were seriously in trouble.

"Your actions are understandable, but not permitted," he is told. "I expect that the next time someone pushes you to the point of retaliation, I will not hear about it."

It takes a second for Han Ying to process the precise words he's hearing. But he cannot be mistaken; there is nobody more exact with his words than the exacting Zhou-shouling.

"Yes, Zhuangzhu," he ventures.

There's an unmistakable note of amusement when Zhou-zhuangzhu confirms, "Consider it your mission."

Permission, then. Permission to do whatever he wants, so long as he doesn't get caught. Han Ying didn't think he could adore him any more, but he does. Every day.

"Yes, Zhuangzhu."

"Come on, then."

And he looks up at last, but he does not see his zhuangzhu beckoning him to rise. Instead he stands directly in front of Han Ying, one hand slightly stretched toward him, palm still facing down. Han Ying furrows his brow.

"Zhuangzhu?"

"Don't tell me you suddenly don't know what to do," Zhou-zhuangzhu says, "Ying'er."

Certainly, he isn't...?

But there's a challenge behind his eyes, sparkling a bit, so similar to the way his shidi looks when he dares Han Ying to do something a bit reckless. Han Ying swallows, but reaches out his hands; he is not a coward.

He kisses Zhou-zhuangzhu's hand and as if they have done this a hundred--a thousand times before this, Zhou-zhuangzhu detaches himself with grace and waves Han Ying to stand.

"Very good. Go report for your chores."

Reeling, Han Ying does.

After that...after that, Han Ying has the great luxury to lose track. He belongs to Zhou Zishu in a way no other Tian Chuang operative does and he may not be one of the Siji Shanzhuang disciples, or even their disciples, but he is something, and there is rarely a time he finds himself on his knees that he is not allowed the privilege of that kiss.

He is 16 and sent to his knees with a sharp word after raising his voice to his zhuangzhu; his kiss is barely-there, ashamed and still prickling with discomfort, but no less sincere.

He is 17 and accepting his promotion; gratitude wells up in him and he allows it only to show in this gesture, determined to keep composure and make Zhou-zhuangzhu proud.

He is 18 and kneeling in spite of his broken leg, true failure heavy on his heart in a way he could not have imagined four years ago; he presses his bloody lips to a hand that he pretends is not ever-so-slightly trembling.

He is 19 and his heart stops in his chest every time he sees Zhou Zishu do, well, anything; he makes every excuse to kneel in his presence, for any reason, just so he can look up expectantly for the hand that is never denied.

He is 20 and letting his lips linger every time a bit longer, leaving these unspoken feelings in the sacred space between them--the only indulgence, he has realised, that either of them will ever allow.

He is 21 and Zhou-zhuangzhu has begun turning up drunk at his doorstep, not from any party he knows about; he leaves the kiss that is his by rights even on the nights Zhuangzhu is too far gone to notice.

He is 22 and no matter how severe Zhou-zhuangzhu gets, no matter how cold, he does not forget to give Han Ying his hand. He is 22 and gives Zhou-zhuangzhu the fullness of his fealty--as if there was ever any doubt he had it--and seals it in secret between them with the briefest of contact. He hopes it is not a greater burden than it is a tool.

He is 23 and Zhou Zishu is gone.

It is only then that Han Ying realises he lost count.

Each week that passes after that, he feels more and more bereft. It should seem silly, or stupid, that he misses something so ephemeral and ill-defined, but it's the most serious thing in the world. It never needed definition or explanation. And it was all he ever asked. All he wanted: to be allowed to cherish, even if not to be cherished in return.

He doesn't shirk his duty, but he loses all trace of satisfaction in it and there is a permanent tension between his shoulders that takes up residence and will not go.

But the worst is yet to happen, because the worst possible thing is the day he finds Zhou Zishu in the forest, heart full of relief and far too much else. Han Ying kneels on the rough ground, strung taut like a bow, and Zhou-zhuangzhu...pulls him to his feet.

And again, even when his companion has left them to their own devices.

And a third time, in Han Ying's own room.

For the first time in almost a decade, he didn't dare touch his drunk zhuangzhu more than necessary to lay him down in bed.

And then Zhou Zishu walks away from every declaration Han Ying frantically tries to make verbal, leaves him there drowning in the void between them.

That could have been the end of it. If it weren't for a collective display of quick thinking and good timing, it would have been; Han Ying is not easily deterred once he has set his mind on something. Not even when faced with the price tag of his own life.

Zhou Zishu should have known that, he thinks, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down at his...his Han Ying, whatever else he is to him now. It's not fair that he looks so peaceful in his healing slumber when Zhou Zishu is sure his own pulse still hasn't slowed from the clawing panic underneath his skin these past few terrible, frenetic days.

Wu Xi assured him that the little fool will be fine, and should wake any time now. Zishu is reluctant to leave his side before then. Which is convenient, because Wen Kexing of all people has snubbed him, refusing to have a civil conversation until he's "done right by Ying'er" and refusing to even let him at their own disciple.

What the hell did Wen Kexing get out of Han Ying when he was dying, anyway?

It doesn't matter. What matters is that he didn't die.

Zishu perhaps deserves whatever passing ire Lao Wen wants to throw him on behalf of Han Ying who is too...Han Ying to do it himself.

Curling his hand around the still one at rest, reassuring himself of its continued warmth, Zishu watches the blanket rise and fall steadily in the afternoon sunlight.

Perhaps Han Ying was foolish, but if the servant is a fool than the master is bound to be a bigger one. And he was an absolute fool to send him away, to think that if he just tried hard enough, he could truly push Han Ying out of his life and into his own, somewhere off the road to hell. He was a fool to think Han Ying wouldn't just throw himself down that path all the harder. He would burn himself out like a star for Zishu at a moment's notice, even if he believed Zishu didn't care about him at all anymore.

What would Zishu do, if their roles were reversed?

What hasn't he threatened to do for Lao Wen, for Chengling? What hasn't he already done in this life?

For the one who has never so much as faltered a single step, no matter where Zishu led? For the one who tempted him longer than he ever should have allowed? For the one he can rely on at the worst of himself? He knows the answer already.

Han Ying shifts, just slightly, but Zishu can feel the movement ripple on the bed and he is prepared for the groggy, "...Zhuangzhu?"

He has had long enough to contemplate his response.

He lifts Han Ying's hand in his own and without preamble presses a kiss directly to the back of it, holding it through Han Ying's flinch and sharp indrawn breath. Han Ying's other hand is raised as if to do something and he takes advantage of it, drawing that one in for its own display of affection.

Through it all he keeps eye contact, watching the journey of Han Ying's face--mouth open just slightly, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and then narrow, calculating too much on a mind too fresh from sleep.

"I owe you two, Ying'er," Zishu offers simply.

Han Ying's face is red but he's always been a bit quicker than Zishu expects. "I don't get anything for almost dying?" he manages with a hoarse voice.

Zishu snorts. "No. You know well that I don't reward such folly." Then before Han Ying can get comfortable, he leans in closer, lets his gaze flicker down and back up with intention. Waits for the exact moment he sees the disbelief register and says, "But this is for waking up."

It's probably a reckless, ridiculous thing to do, ducking in to set his mouth against Han Ying's and forever changing something that nobody asked to be changed. But Zishu's life is full of reckless, ridiculous things now, and he can hardly claim it's the worst he's ever done. It doesn't even rank in the top fifty. He kisses him firmly, unapologetic, freeing his hands to cup Han Ying's face between them.

He doesn't stop until Han Ying no longer tastes of salt. He pulls back, hands dropping to cover the ones tangled desperately in the front of Zishu's robes.

Nonsensically, Han Ying mutters, eyes closed, "One."

[plusultraetc]

final(s) straw

Ironically, none of Nemuri's friends sleep like normal people.

At 12:47 am, Nemuri lets her head fall to the table.

“I hate finals week.”

Across from her, Yamada makes a sympathetic noise. “Why don’t they tell you when you assign a paper that you’re going to have to grade the papers after?”

“Exactly.” She points in his general direction without lifting her head. “I’m so glad someone finally knows my pain.”

It’s not even Friday, is the thing. If it was Friday-technically-Saturday, Nemuri could hike up her big girl pants and get this done, but it’s Thursday-technically-Friday and she has to proctor two exams tomorrow and so all she has to hike up are her most luxurious pink pajama bottoms and even they aren’t really making her feel any better.

She has patrol on Friday evenings. She is going to cry. 

“I’m going to sleep all weekend,” she says, half-affirmation, half-promise.

Yamada makes another note in the margin of the paper he’s grading. It joins a sea of its crimson brethren. “I’m not.”

“Oh, shit, nooo.” She reaches across the table and makes grabby hands until he surrenders one of his own. “Quit your job.”

“Which one?”

“Not this one. You can’t leave me here.”

“You brought me here.”

Nemuri hums with her cheek pressed to the top of tonight’s lowest-scoring final. “Like a mother bringing a child into this world of suffering.”

“Kayama, what?”

She pats his hand delicately and then digs her nails in with one final squeeze. Yamada yelps and jolts away. The dishes rattle warningly in her kitchen cabinets.

“I hope that woke you up, because it did jack shit for me,” she grumbles, pushing herself upright. Yamada shoots her a petulant look, shaking his abused hand loosely.

“If you’re really that tired, take a nap. I’ll wake you in a little bit.”

“Yamada, sweetie, if I take a nap right now there won’t be a force on earth that could wake me.”

“You could sleep on the floor.”

Nemuri blinks at him as he returns his attention to his paper. “Like, on a futon?”

“No. Like on the floor. That way, you can’t get too comfortable, and it’ll be easier to wake up.”

“What?”

He glances up at her. “What do you mean, ‘what?’ I did that all the time in high school.”

He did… what? Floor naps? He did floor naps in high school? Yamada was a year behind her at UA, but she has the vague recollection that he always had really good grades. Like, really good. Like pull an all-nighter, study until your eyes are burning, and then nap on the floor instead of going to bed so you can keep studying good.

“Yamada, what?”

“Why do you keep saying that!”

Nemuri flails. “Floor naps!?”

“They’re effective!”

“They’re ridiculous! That’s something a ridiculous person does!” She would know, and so would he, because their mutual ridiculous person does pretty much exactly that thing. Nemuri reaches across the table and Yamada, beautiful fool that he is, lets her grab his hand again. “If I had known you were taking floor naps in high school, I would have intervened much sooner. I would have made it my personal mission to tank your GPA in the name of sleep.” A horrible thought occurs to her. “Wait, do you still do that now? Do you just curl up on the floor at the station next to your recording equipment and sleep for half an hour?”

Yamada rolls his eyes. “Who do I look like, Aizawa? Of course not!” He pauses. “And half an hour is too long. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you will fall totally asleep after half an hour. Fifteen to twenty minutes is ideal.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you don’t take floor naps in public. You take them in the privacy of your own home where you can lose control of your life but no one is around to see it.”

“Oh my god. I’m getting you professional help.”

“For what? I don’t even do that anymore. I don’t have time to nap.” He waves a marked-up essay at her. “I have three jobs.”

[nerdylizj]

Katara feels safest by the sea. It might be because she’s a waterbender, though she’s not sure that tells the whole story. The truth is, she decides while standing on the deck of a stolen Fire Nation ship under the half moon, quite simple. Katara is safest by the sea because the tide is reliable. The tide doesn’t die. The tide doesn’t leave her behind. The tide, Katara knows, is a work of permanence and impermanence. Marks in the sand are washed away. Seashells are gifted to the shore. Give, take. Push, pull. But never, ever: truth, lie. 

read chapter 9 or start chapter 1

[ithappensoffstage]

Happy 2 year anniversary to Word of Honor! To celebrate, here’s a comic I commissioned from @sadfishkid . This is based on a part from my SHL Big Bang fic, Every Drop of Rain, a soulmate au with a twist that was an absolute pleasure to write. The fic was my love letter to a show that means the world to me, and I’m so thrilled to share this beautiful art on its milestone birthday.

Wen Kexing steps forward, still smiling, through flashes of lights. In the periods of darkness between the flashing, Zhou Zishu wants more than anything to have that smile back. He searches for Wen Kexing’s full face, body taut and moving in sync as if attached by a thread—

Wen Kexing isn’t wearing his mask.

Their eyes meet, and Zhou Zishu’s world explodes into color, a dazzling, dizzying, rich rush of shades beyond his comprehension. The club is black, and the lights are white, but when they meet it’s to illuminate vivid hues. He knows some are cold and some are warm, just like his body. He shivers as if from a chill, or from a fever. His knees shake. As Zishu falls, he realizes that Wen Kexing is his soulmate.