WKX: “A-Xu, I’m leaving too. You… recuperate properly, and you’re not allowed to cheat on me. I’ll go look for you on Changming Mountain, if... "
ZZS: “Got it. Get lost, and don’t die”.
For TYK week over on twitter, day 1: Love languages! Featuring wenzhou's banter, which I enjoy way too much. This was one of my favourite wenzhou scenes from TYK/Faraway Wanderers ~ (from Ch 67: The Parting of Ways)
Day 3 prompt for tykweek on twitter, Clothed sex. Inspired by someone on twitter posting a month ago about Wen Kexing in a red dress being spicy with Zhou Zishu in a suit. Haven't really done digital artwork for a while. I got a lot of help with this one from DoZZ discord! I am not able to determine how Not Safe For Work this is.
This is a watercolour illustration for a Fatal Frame AU version Tian Ya Ke story I wrote for the tykweek event (Day 6 prompt Horror) on twitter. It's basically a "what if the denizens of ghost valley were literally ghosts, spooking around a cursed village that Zhou Zishu (and Chengling) got trapped in". There were supposed to be more illustrations but it didn't work out that way.
Oh and the story is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38054476
There is an event on twitter for a week of prompts for Tian Ya Ke fanworks, and this is my drawing for Day 1's prompts of hurt/comfort and biting. A-Xu is tired of nourishing broth and wants something more substantial.
"The prompts for Tian Ya Ke Week are here, with themes, tropes, and kinks for each day! Use one or more prompts to inspire you to create a fanwork for Priest's novel, and post your work during TYK Week, April 1-7. Tag your post with #tykweek if you’d like us to feature your work!"
I learnt about it only today so I didn’t have time to do anything :’) But I figured I could post fragments of my old writing which fall under the theme ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Inspired by these two gorgeous art pieces by Thaya-Wamani: Wen Kexing & Wenzhou. CHECK THEM OUT
Word count: 1570
----
Zhou Zishu put down his brush and looked at his work critically, scanning it for mistakes and nodding to himself thoughtfully. He was sitting with his back straight, while his fingers still laid on the brush, ready to be picked up again. The other hand, up until now unconsciously stroking his chin, suddenly got raised and swayed back just above his shoulder, hitting something behind him.
A small sound echoed throughout the room as Wen Kexing’s face got smacked, and he fell back with a dejected sigh.
“Ah-Xu, you hit your husband like that? That’s domestic violence!”
“Then tell him not to creep behind me with unknown intensions.”
Showing no remorse, Wen Kexing sat down behind his partner and hugged his waist. Putting his chin on the man’s shoulder, he looked curiously at the painting on the table.
“Is that me?”
“How can it be you, do you have white hair? Are you a grandpa? It’s clearly Ye Baiyi,” Zhou Zishu denied in an uninterested voice without missing a beat.
Not acknowledging the response in the slightest, Wen Kexing leaned forward to curiously peer at the painting, but also as an excuse to glue himself even more to the man in his arms. The man in question, as if used to such behaviour, didn’t make any comments and continued cleaning his supplies in silence.
After making a show of analysing the painting for a while among grunts and thoughtful hums, Wen Kexing finally eased his hold on Zhou Zishu’s waist and shifted slightly to the right, now sitting next to his partner instead of behind him, but still keeping one arm and his legs around him. In a fluid motion he leaned against the table and propped himself up on an elbow, supporting his chin on his hand and looking at the side of Zhou Zishu’s handsome face.
“So, this is how you see me, hm?”
His lips stretched in a teasing smile.
“How indecent.”
After another moment of silence, he retracted the hand which kept rubbing circles on Zhou Zishu’s back, and loosened his robe to imitate the opening on the chest from the painting.
“Is this what you want, husband?” he called in a teasing voice, at the same time reaching out to brush Zhou Zishu’s hair aside, then twist one strand on his finger. Zhou Zishu did not budge or seem to even take notice of anything, as if there was no one in the room except for himself.
“But one thing is missing,” Wen Kexing suddenly chimed, voice serious and without the previous joking undertone.
Out of reflex, Zhou Zishu paused and looked at him with creased brows, “What?”
Wen Kexing smiled widely. “You.”
He got smacked on the head once again.
All pretended seriousness gone, Wen Kexing laughed heartily and sat up straighter, moving closer to Zhou Zishu and wrapping him in his arms tightly. Zhou Zishu went back to ignoring him completely and turned his attention back to his supplies. Seeing the side of Zhou Zishu’s face, Wen Kexing leaned forward and kissed his temple.
“I’m never complete without you,” he whispered into Zhou Zishu’s ear.
The man in his arms halted for a moment before quickly looking away, the signature move which Wen Kexing witnessed often when Zhou Zishu got embarrassed and didn’t know how to respond. He smiled happily and kissed the reddening ear which didn’t manage to move out of his reach, while his hands started to suggestively rub the man’s hips.
Suddenly, in one quick move Zhou Zishu slipped away from Wen Kexing’s grip and stood up. He walked up to the desk on the side, opened a drawer and took a set of papers out, then threw them in Wen Kexing’s direction. The other man instinctively caught them all, then spread them on his lap and blinked at the blank sheets in confusion. He raised his eyes questioningly at the other man.
“Do you want me to practice right now?”
“It’s a puzzle for you,” Zhou Zishu crossed his arms and looked at him with an unreadable expression.
A calculative glint flashed through Wen Kexing’s eyes, matching the other’s stare, before he smiled excitedly and turned to examine the papers. His energetic bustling didn’t last long, as he soon froze and raised his slightly narrowed eyes at Zhou Zishu.
“Are these my…?”
Zhou Zishu’s only reaction was a slow raise of his eyebrows.
“Ah-Xu, how could you!” Wen Kexing exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “I worked so hard on these to show you my progress, and how beautiful you are, I loved them with my whole being! You really mphh-” his words, full of accusatory hurt, were cut short when his chin was suddenly grabbed and a set of lips covered his mouth in a soft but haste kiss.
He instantly quieted down, as if trained, and blinked at his partner.
“Calm down, they are still there.” Zhou Zishu released his chin and stepped back with a sigh. “You just need to find the key.“
Wen Kexing pouted, hugging the papers to his chest.
“My favourite treasures…”
Zhou Zishu side-eyed him.
“You are too attached to them,” he huffed in a tone of an exasperated teacher as he paced throughout the room. “You need not be fully content with your work, you have to always strive to be better. Examine your work and what it represents, but as a reference to what you could do better instead of-”
“Ah-Xu, are you jealous?”
Zhou Zishu cut off, looking almost offended at the other man.
“Are you stupid? I’m giving you another lesson,” he turned away, but Wen Kexing still caught the sight of his slightly reddening cheeks.
Wen Kexing carelessly threw the papers onto the table, and jumped at Zhou Zishu, caging him in a hug.
“I promise I’ll stare more at you from now on,” he kissed Zhou Zishu’s neck. “But I fear that means I’m not going to ever blink.”
----
It was the middle of the night when Wen Kexing stirred in his sleep.
His consciousness slowly bled into his mind, taking note of the dryness of his mouth, until he finally couldn’t continue ignoring it. His eyes opened and looked tiredly at the ceiling bathed in darkness for a while. Another moment passed before he peeled his stiff tongue off his palate and huffed in annoyance - softly, so as not to wake up the other man lying next to him, his head resting on Wen Kexing’s chest and arms wrapped around his waist.
Zhou Zishu slightly adjusted his position and smacked his lips before stilling again, which coaxed Wen Kexing’s attention back to him and his previous annoyance dissipated instantly. Still in a dreamlike state but gradually more awake, Wen Kexing traced the lines of his partner’s naked back, marvelling in the perfect shapes illuminated slightly by the light of the moon peeking through the window nearby, once again questioning if it was reality or a dream.
He brushed the silky hair from the man’s face and inclined his head to give Zhou Zishu a kiss on the forehead. During that act his mouth once again reminded him of its unbearable dryness, coaxing his eyes to reluctantly leave the warm body in his arms and glance at the flask of water which usually sat on the table next to their bed.
It was empty.
Wen Kexing cursed inwardly and considered ignoring his needs. Soon after, however, he recalled the quiet smack of Zhou Zishu’s lips and the image of him waking up thirsty only to find out that there was no water finally encouraged Wen Kexing to fetch it.
He carefully untangled himself from Zhou Zishu’s hold and sat up on the edge of the bed, taking one last glance at the sleeping beauty before adjusting the blanket to cover the man’s naked upper back. He got up, looking around the floor for his robe, thrown nowhere in particular in the heat of the previous evening. Having had found it, he put it on, although not bothering to tie it properly and letting the smooth material gently dance on his skin while leaving most of his front exposed. He then grabbed the cursed flask and left the warmth of their bedroom.
As he passed by Zhou Zishu’s painting table, he suddenly stopped, frozen for two breaths while his mind tried to catch up on the unknown detail it saw. He finally blinked, took a step back, and approached the table.
There lied Zhou Zishu’s latest painting, of white-haired Wen Kexing half-lying lazily, holding alcohol and looking to the side. Except he wasn’t looking at nothing anymore, but instead at another figure sitting comfortably next to him, in matching clothes, holding his own flask and glancing back towards him.
Immeasurable fondness poured into his heart, as he run a finger just above the man who joined his painted persona, recalling the bickering from just a few days prior.
Suddenly filled with the need to hug and kiss the man all over again, he dashed back to their bed, all attempts to be quiet forgone.
As the room became lively again, filled with a mix of angry and cheerful shouts, the moonlight shone on the forgotten flask, left on the table next to the painting of two figures sitting together in harmony. Its emptiness the regret which shall be felt in the morning.
