#rose writes

[thelastlaureate]

Standing in my work clothes at home but singing and dancing to Frank Sinatra

[flowerssintheconcrete]

Delighted with my Tanthamore hockey au commission by @rottenapplefae! Thank you for your beautiful work to accompany my fic!

Soft Hands

Tanthamore hockey au kink fic - Rated E

Claymore’s hands are for scoring now, not fighting. Too skilled, her hands too valuable to be split wide like Kit’s so often had, broken and bleeding and raw against someone else’s jaw. Soft hands, coaches had drilled into her through the years, and Kit’s walls flutter and clench as she thinks of Claymore’s fingers, long and sure, filling her cunt in place of her own.

OR Kit wants to be the best. She's not, though, and Jade helps her deal with that.

[yingleis]

emerges from my docs, covered in blood and sweat:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Relationship(s): Zhang Haixia/Zhang Hailou, Zhang Haixia & Zhang Haiqi & Zhang Hailou

Summary:

In those stolen hours of the night, he would catch low groans, incoherent mumbles making their way out of Hailou's room that made his heart clench and his grip on the cane tighten.

In the past, he wouldn't hesitate to slip into Hailou's room, to gently shake him awake and reassure him that he was here, he was alright. But now, there was a part of him that wasn't so sure

Zhang Haixia and Zhang Hailou, rebuilding themselves in the aftermath of Bailejing.

[yingleis]

I'll slowly compile the fic requests (accepting my last few reqs!) for Archives: The Nanyang Mystery on ao3

First chapter is up:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[voidimpala]

Hey I’m so so so sorry everyone, work has been absolutely insane and my burnout is astronomical. Every time I go to write after a shift my brain is mush and I’m too exhausted to think up anything good but I will try and get some fics out within the next 2 weeks. I’m thinking of writing several and sort of making a back log of writing that I can post in small batches. I promise I have plenty of ideas and I saw everyone’s requests in my inbox and I’m excited to tackle those for you 🖤

As always send requests whenever my inbox is open!!

[yingleis]

compilation of my Archives: The Nanyang Mystery fics (sorted latest to oldest):

-> fic requests can be found on my writing tag: #rose writes

-> Transformative works statement: blanket permission to podfic/fanart/translate! just link it back to my original work when you post and let me know, please!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

left behind / memories

Zhang Hailou, a hundred years later

Xiacheng's most eligible bachelorette: Zhang Haiqi

“Zhang Haiqi keeps two pretty boys at her estate, and somehow men are still lining up to propose to her.” Baoyu says, deadpan. The line today was particularly long, stretching from their gate well past the shophouses that lined up the street. “Can you really blame them? She’s the boss of the Telegraph Office at such a young age, she’s pretty, and she’s unmarried.”

Or, the Zhang family, through the eyes of the locals in Xiacheng.

遗憾万千思念却更长远 | regret is boundless, but longing is everlasting (platonic Zhang Hailou & He Jianxi)

"I thought you died. If you really did, then half of that would be my fault." He doesn't miss the guilt, the flash of pain in He Jianxi's eyes despite his steady brushstrokes, quickly filling up half the paper, and Hailou recalls the letters, the admission and apology that he hadn't answered.

A month after he returns to Xiacheng, Zhang Hailou receives a visitor.

照心 | reflecting the heart

Won’t you come home? Hailou wants to say. Shifu is dying and she won't save herself and I don’t know what to do, he wants to cry. I’m sorry, he wants to cross the distance, to pull Xiazai into his arms and apologise, wants to shield him from whatever is haunting him, to reassure himself that his Xiazai was still there, that he still had a home to return to.

is anybody out there / can you take this weight of mine

It doesn’t really hit Haixia until two days later, as he is sifting through the reports, that he had nearly lost Hailou. He had nearly lost Hailou, and he hadn’t even known.

Or, a missing scene from episode 15.

[yingleis]

Hi, I have been enjoying reading your ficlets while roaming the drama tag like reading my evening newspaper.

Can I request tiny snippets of Zhang Hailou falling in love with Zhang Haixia again and again and again, in pre-drama canon, drama canon, and post canon where they are together?

Hi anon!! this is such a sweet request aaaaaa

˖°࿔⋆ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ༄.°

1.

Summers in Xiacheng were unbearably hot.

And humid.

Zhang Hailou could barely walk ten steps without being drenched in sweat, the sun burning his skin, making his movements sluggish. How did Shifu expect him to continue training in this weather?

Peeking around the corner to ensure that the house was indeed empty, he collapses on the floor, carefully avoiding the patches of sunlight as he splayed out his limbs, soaking in the coolness of the wooden floorboards with a contented sigh.

The peace doesn’t last long though—the chorus of cicadas interrupted by Xiazai’s voice. “Hailou?”

Ah, he figured it wouldn’t be long before Xiazai noticed his absence.

“Xiazai, come here,” he calls lazily, head slumping back against the ground. It was too hot to get up and the area betwen his back and the floor was once again wet with sweat. He rolls over to another spot.

He hears Xiazai's familiar gait, sees his feet come into view, and pats the spot above his head. "Lie down. Aren't you hot in this weather?"

"I am. But Shifu will punish us again if she catches us slacking."

"She won't know if you don't tell her," Hailou reasons, counting down the seconds. One, two, three... Xiazai didn't need much persuading, quickly plopping down onto the space offered to him.

“How do you know I won’t?” Xiazai challenges, and Hailou pictures that teasing look on his face, the glint in his eyes that he always got when he was being purposely obtuse, which draws a giggle from him. “What’s so funny?”

He rolls over to lie on his stomach, head propped atop his hands as he smiles. “You won’t.”

Xiazai tilits his head upwards to meet his eyes, holding his stare for all of ten seconds before relenting with an amused huff, eyes sliding closed. “I won’t.”

(Hailou didn’t know it then, but he was already falling.)

˖°࿔⋆ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ༄.°

2.

Hailou would admit that he had a selfish reason in bringing Haijiao back to their home.

Sometimes, Xiazai would get a distant look in his eyes, staring out of the windows. It was as if he was ready to leave, to fly out of his grasp forever, leaving Hailou with nothing but memories to hold on to. Having someone to look after, someone else around would give Xiazai another reason to stay, surely?

It was a gamble—surely with how smart Xiazai was, he would see through him in an instant—but Hailou was willing to bet that Xiazai wouldn't call him out on it, wouldn’t turn away another orphan. He had always been kinder than him, always helping others at his own expense.

And he had won the bet. Xiazai had all but folded the moment Haijiao called him "Xia shu," as he predicted.

Forgive me, Xiazai. I need you to stay.

—

"I won't go anywhere." Those simple words, whispered into the dark, stirring up ripples in his heart.

Hailou turns to Xiazai, breath catching at his words. Slowly exhaling because of course. Of course Xiazai had seen through his fears, his selfishness, at a glance. He had always been an open book to the other, ever since they were eight and ten and training under Shifu in Xiacheng, and Hailou is ridiculously, stupidly, in love with him, the one person who understood his fears and his motivations better than he did himself, who would sacrifice his autonomy, his freedom at the drop of a hat for someone so undeserving.

He shuffles closer to Xiazai, pulls him into his arms despite the muggy, humid air (really, why were nights in Balai always so hot?) and the sweat causing their clothes to cling uncomfortably to their skin, nosing into the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in.

"Xiazai..."

"I'll stay with you," Xiazai says, gently patting the hand around his waist.

˖°࿔⋆ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ༄.°

3.

Post Bailejing, Xiazai’s body has to readjust to functioning without the worm. His legs retain half their function—he is back on the cane—Hailou doesn’t know how he feels about that, there’s too many things for him to process, too many things lost and returned that he is still half convinced he is hallucinating in his grief.

Even so, life continues its course.

They go fishing, cooking the spicy fish they owed Shifu. They go on walks, exploring the ways in which Xiacheng had changed during their absence. They learn how to fit around each other again.

Their house in Xiacheng had been appropriately modified; ramps installed, railings fitted to the corridors, kitchen and bathroom facitilies being replaced to better accomodate Xiazai on his worse days—some days, he needs the wheelchair, his legs unable to properly support him, no matter what he insisted.

Those days, he would be more irritable, snapping at Hailou to let him be, glowering at him in silent challenge.

Hailou doesn't argue, but he doesn't give way either, lips pressed into a tight line as he waits outside the bathroom. Just in case. For his own peace of mind.

I'm sorry, Xiazai would whisper later, in between tears and choked gasps. I know you mean well.

And really, what could Hailou do, other than hold his shaking frame in his arms, whispering a litany of reassurances—he deserved the anger, the frustration, he wouldn't complain if Xiazai vented it all out on him—as long as it meant that he was still here, still with him.

(It was undeniable now, that he needed Xiazai like one needed air to breathe. That he couldn't stand another moment apart from him.)

still accepting requests!

[yingleis]

Xiacheng's most eligible Bachelorette: Zhang Haiqi

Fsndom: Archives: The Nanyang Mystery (南部档案)

Relationship: Zhang Haiqi & Zhang Haixia & Zhang Hailou

Summary:

“Zhang Haiqi keeps two pretty boys at her estate, and somehow men are still lining up to propose to her.” Baoyu says, deadpan. The line today was particularly long, stretching from their gate well past the shophouses that lined up the street.

“Can you really blame them? She’s the boss of the Telegraph Office at such a young age, she’s pretty, and she’s unmarried.”

Or, the Zhang family, through the eyes of the locals in Xiacheng.