time for an h/c comment fest!

[xparrot]

The last couple of days have been rough on my writing (for dumb annoying reasons, why don't we come installed with a "will not be bothered by this thing" button?)

So! In the hopes of getting me to write something, and because this is what I'm feeling most wobbly about: it's time for hurt/comfort comment-fic!

Leave me a prompt/request for h/c, any hurt or any comfort, short or long as you want -- if it's character-specific, Guardian WeiLan please, that's all I'm in the mood to write; if that's not your thing then please leave a more general prompt! I don't promise to write anything (nor do I promise to write an actual commentfic and not some 10K-word monster, knowing me) but I would love any inspiration.

And if one of the prompts happens to tickle your fancy, please post your own comment fic (art, etc!) here (any fandoms, any characters) -- the more h/c the merrier!


The fills! \o/
(as of Nov. 23)

The Sundial goes full Equivalent Exchange. by frith_in_thorns
aftermath of torture by xparrot
Shen Wei is having trouble focusing (and how!) by xparrot
Hypothermia and cuddling for warmth (or: Shen Wei Is The Least Reliable Narrator) by yue_ix
Shen Wei has a weird allergic reaction by frith_in_thorns
Nightmares (and knives) by xparrot
Shen Wei suddenly has the power to hear people's dreams by naye
Fanart: Scars by yue_ix
Comfort tea & hypothermia by marycrawford
Wings, the kind that stay inside until they tear their way out by frith_in_thorns
Scars (AU fic for yue_ix's art) by xparrot
Dragged away screaming by marycrawford
Shen Wei thinking he's minorly hurt, but it's actually a lot worse by wintersoldier77
Zhao Yunlan has a literal healing cock by xparrot
Shen Wei thinking he's only minorly hurt, take 2 by rlyqueer
winter has come by extrapenguin
Shen Wei accidentally (or not) ingests poison meant for Zhao Yunlan by xparrot
muffled screams by duckwhatduck
Like a snowglobe by frith_in_thorns

Comments

[naye]

Prompt: The Sundial goes full Equivalent Exchange.

Shen Wei has given Zhao Yunlan back his eyesight, and fixed the damage done by the dark energy...but that has left Shen Wei blind and suffering from dizziness, nosebleeds (and coughing up blood because why not) as well as visions and hallucinations.

Bonus: They totally beat Ye Zun in episode 20, so he's back in his pillar for a time-out, Haixing is safe, and Zhao Yunlan can focus all his energy (possibly literally!) on fixing Shen Wei.

[xparrot]

Just, DAMN, woman!

[frith_in_thorns]

(This is just a snippet I'm typing directly into the comment box, don't let this put anyone off actually digging into this prompt rather than being "ooh Shen Wei falling over!")

-

Zhao Yunlan looks at Shen Wei, grinning, but Shen Wei has his head down and his eyes closed, a deep furrow of concentration between his brows. And, okay, Zhao Yunlan's not complaining because this gives him a long moment to just study Shen Wei, to drink in the sight of him after days in the dark -- the moment Shen Wei opens his eyes and realises then there's going to be fuss, from him and the rest of the team, and a lot of noise, and it will be a while before he has this opportunity again to just... see.

But then Shen Wei opens his eyes, and there's a moment where he blinks hard, and then he lifts his head and says, somewhat vaguely, "Did it work?" like Zhao Yunlan's expression doesn't tell him. But then, he's not looking quite at Zhao Yunlan. He's looking off to the side, very slightly.

"It worked," Zhao Yunlan says, and Shen Wei finally looks at him and smiles. "Good," he says. "I'm glad." There's something... a little unfocused about his expression.

Zhao Yunlan's smile falls a little. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Shen Wei reaches out a hand to his side, like he's searching for the support of the wall. Which is near him, but not quite in that direction. And he stumbles --

Zhao Yunlan is moving before his brain has quite caught up, but he isn't quite quick enough. Shen Wei takes a step like the floor's tilting underneath him and his knee folds, and then the rest of him. Zhao Yunlan is at least in time to catch his shoulder before his head can smack against the floor.

"Shen Wei!" he says, "What is it?"

Shen Wei shakes his head and then coughs. It clearly takes him by surprise, so that he doesn't get his forearm in front of his mouth in time to muffle the first one, and blood splatters against the floor.

"Shen Wei!" Zhao Yunlan has him by the shoulders, holding him up, leaning close. "Shen Wei, are you okay --" although he's not, of course he's not.

Shen Wei coughs, and coughs, and swallows heavily. When he lowers his sleeve it's stained with red where blood leaked between his lips. "I --" he tries. He looks up, but not at Zhao Yunlan.

"Shen Wei," Zhao Yunlan says, again, and it's again as he speaks that Shen Wei finally looks towards him, but his eyes are oddly unfocused.

"Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei says, and pats his hand against Zhao Yunlan's arm a couple of times before gripping tightly.

Zhao Yunlan -- swallows, although his throat is suddenly locked tight. "Shen Wei," he says. Quietly, calmly, because there is no other option. "Can you see?"

"No," Shen Wei says. And his tone is just the same, calm and quiet and utterly, utterly brittle. "But it's -- it will be all right." And of all things, he tries to smile, and Zhao Yunlan instantly regrets every time over the last few days he'd smiled insincerely, hoping that it was enough of a sticking plaster to hide the gaping wound. If it had looked like this...

"No," Zhao Yunlan whispers. "No, no, no --"

Shen Wei, pale, blood on his lips, keeps on trying to smile. "But you can see?" he asks. "It worked?"

"Yes," Zhao Yunlan whispers. Although worked has become the last word he would use.

"Good," Shen Wei says, with a stubbornness that dares Zhao Yunlan to argue. He lists again, sinking further into Zhao Yunlan's arms.

It isn't. It isn't.

"We'll fix this," Zhao Yunlan says, desperately determined, and if he isn't allowed to argue than Shen Wei isn't, either.

[eglantiere]

oh ho ho! weilan, torture aftermath (preferably with shen wei hurt, but i'm flexible)? :D

[naye]

Oooooooooooooooooooh~~~~

[non-con mention]

[amara1783]

Post ep 3 plotbunny

Shen Wei feels guilty about Zhang Ruonan being raped by a group of his students, and has nightmares about Zhao Yunlan being raped. Might possibly feature Zhu Jiu being extra creepy towards Zhao Yunlan and taunting Shen Wei.

Comfort!tea served by Zhao Yunlan

[amara1783]

In the first episode, Zhao Yunlan says that he will serve Hei Lao Ge some good tea on his next visit, but we don't see this. Maybe comfort!tea for one of the many canon hurts?

Re: Comfort!tea served by Zhao Yunlan

[marycrawford]

“I have a tea set, you know,” Zhao Yunlan says, and it sounds like a reproach. “A really nice one. And the tea to go with it. Lushan cloud tea, it smells like spring in the mountains.”

Shen Wei blinks into the dark, ice crystals falling off his lashes, and tries to remember. Were they talking about tea, before? He must have missed it. It feels like he missed more than that.

“I know you don’t think I know anything about food, that I only know far too much about alcohol, but—” Zhao Yunlan seems to be having an argument with him that he can’t remember starting. Or contributing to.

“I never said that,” Shen Wei croaks.

“Oh, there you are,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is very soft. Closer than before. Warmer. “Shen Wei?”

“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei says, more or less automatically, and then stops. “I can’t see anything.”

Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “Me either. My phone died about an hour ago, but it’s probably close to midnight. Don’t worry, we’ll make it to morning.”

That’s…not as reassuring as Zhao Yunlan probably meant it to be. “Where are we?”

Zhao Yunlan’s breathing is very slow, steady, and that helps. “Oh. We’re in an ice cave. Do you remember Li Xia, the suspect we were after? She raised an ice storm—you shielded us—”

Shen Wei tries to find his memories, but though ice storm sounds vaguely relevant, everything else is a blank. He tries to shake his head, then realizes. “You can’t see me,” he says, mournful.

“No, I can’t,” Zhao Yunlan agrees. “I wish I could.”

There’s something wrapped around Shen Wei, something that feels heavy, but he’s not sure what it is. It doesn’t hurt, so it probably isn’t chains. “Where are we?”

Zhao Yunlan’s breath hitches, then steadies again. “We’re in an ice cave. Does your head hurt?”

Shen Wei wants to shake his head again, but remembers just in time. “No, I don’t think so.” He tries to take stock of how he feels, but it’s difficult. He must have a body, but he can’t seem to locate any particulars about its wellbeing. “Are you—Zhao Yunlan, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Zhao Yunlan says, too fast for Shen Wei to feel reassured. “Can you please focus on yourself, for once? You need to stay awake, just to be safe. I can’t see you, and I can’t tell if you have a concussion, or if you’re just exhausted, or—”

Shen Wei tries to move his arm—he has an arm, that’s a positive, he might even have two—because the distress in Zhao Yunlan’s voice hurts, and he can’t listen to that and not respond. He reaches out into the darkness, or tries to, but his arm seems to be stuck inside something.

“Shen Wei?” Oh, that’s very close, almost as if Zhao Yunlan is talking right beside him. That is good. They shouldn’t be separated: everything is better when they’re not separated.

“Where are you?” Shen Wei asks, and the heavy weight around him tightens. Oh. “Is that you?”

“That’s me,” Zhao Yunlan confirms, and now Shen Wei can feel breath tickle his ear. “Do you need me to move, or—”

“No,” Shen Wei says. That’s one question he can answer. “I—I like to know where you are.’

“I like that, too,” Zhao Yunlan says, and his voice is so soft, and Shen Wei can feel his eyes close, can feel himself drift peacefully away—

“No, that’s not allowed,” Zhao Yunlan tells him, firm, and it feels like something unpleasant is happening. Is the ground shaking? “Shen Wei. Stay here. I’m not done talking to you.”

Oh, of course. “Please continue,” Shen Wei says politely.

Zhao Yunlan makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Right. So. Do you want me to tell you where we are, and what happened, or would you like me to keep talking about everything that’s inside my kitchen cupboards? I don’t mind.”

Shen Wei tries to keep track of so many things at once, like where his feet are, and how many arms he currently has, but anything Zhao Yunlan asks him will always have precedence. Anything he says is important, especially the things he doesn’t say. “You were talking about tea,” he says. “You must be thirsty. I’m sorry I can’t make you any—”

Zhao Yunlan interrupts him. “No, that’s all right. I promised to make you some good tea, do you remember? When we met? And I never did. So let me tell you all about it, because I’m going to do that, when we get back.”

Shen Wei hums a little, because it sounds nice. “You own tea? Not—teabags?” He really didn’t mean to sound so doubtful.

Zhao Yunlan chuckles. “I do. I just haven’t had time to unpack it yet. We never have time to do all the things we want…” He sighs a little. “I went to that little tea store under the museum, the one with all the tea pots in the window, you remember? And I asked them what to buy for a very discerning connoisseur, what kind of tea would make a good gift—are you listening?”

Shen Wei hums, again. He isn’t sure who this elevated personage is that Zhao Yunlan was buying tea for, maybe some connection of his father’s? But he could listen to him talk in that warm, soft voice forever. And it might be his imagination, but everything else around him, everything inside him feels a little warmer, too.

[yantantether]

*hugs*

How about a bit of hypothermia? A de-powered Shen Wei caught out in the snow/other inclement weather and having to be snuggled back to warmth by Zhao Yunlan.

Or some emotional h/c? ZYL feeling shitty because of his dad being a dick, and Shen Wei just giving him a lot of love and validation.

Hypothermia and cuddling for warmth (or: Shen Wei Is The Least Reliable Narrator)

[yue_ix]

Shen Wei is accustomed to long walks. He strode across valleys and mountains, he stood watch for signs of life - any signs of life - over silent battlefields and closed his eyes when crossing the same fields a hundred years later, then a colourful meadow with only the odd lance tip still stuck between flowers sprigs. Time sketches and thins at its own whims during those walks, and the easiest way to endure is to let yourself drift on its currents. He knows the same applies to cold. It will gnaw at you, toothless gums worrying at your toes and fingertips and making their way inwards, muscles going tight then burning, a knife edge pain spreading through the limbs and settling in like a mouse waiting for your eyes to close to steal your breath.

That is to say, Shen Wei knows about the relativity of time, and how to adjust his gait for long distances, setting a steady pace that will get him to his destination reliably efficiently, which is the only way to get from somewhere cold to someplace warmer.

Zhao Yunlan, unconscious in his arms and bundled in Shen Wei's black cloak, has never been a factor before. It is remarkably distracting. Shen Wei finds himself looking down, making sure Zhao Yunlan's breathing is still even, and his lips returning to their normal rich shade of blush rather than the worrying bruised plum brought by the deep cold - and suddenly Shen Wei stumbles off the curb, or walks into the path of a parked car, or, now - misses raising his foot high enough to clear the step and trips into the closed door of the SID headquarters.

Shen Wei blinks. Has he crossed half the town already? No, wait, he portaled some of the way, but then - something disturbed the energy. Could the dixingen with the temperate power have woken up from Shen Wei's blow? No, he -

The door underneath Shen Wei's shoulder opens, and he almost falls but catches himself at the last second - except his knee gives out, and he does fall. His only good fortune is that he falls on his back, and thus gets crushed by Zhao Yunlan's weight rather than the other way around. Shen Wei's head cracks against the wood floor and covers any other noises he might have made. His hair is iced over, one hard, sharp lock knocking against his temple from small movements.

"Hei Pao Shi?"

Shen Wei checks over Zhao Yunlan, or he tries to, but his glasses are fogged and Zhao Yunlan is suddenly so heavy Shen Wei can't sit up. He can hardly breathe.

"--n Wei!"

Shen Wei coughs. And keeps coughing. Some sensations are tingling back into his limbs and lungs, an unpleasant rush of insect bites that turns into a rain of needles prickling at his nerves.

He is cold. He is very, very cold, and burning with it.

He hopes his cloak was warm enough to protect Zhao Yunlan from most of the attack's effects.

He hopes he reaches the SID in time to get him to safety.

Trembling fingers land on Shen Wei's jaw, sliding to his neck. They are cold, too, he can tell, but they feel aflame to him.

"S-s-h-shen We-"

Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei wants to open his eyes but his eyeslashes are frozen shut. His teeth are chattering too fast to let any other sound escape. He lets his head roll into the touch instead; welcomes the burn of Zhao Yunlan's clammy hand.

"Shen Wei!" Zhao Yunlan says again. It echoes in front and behind him, on the wrong past and the right future. Two hands settle on Shen Wei's neck now, and oh, they hurt. Shen Wei never wants them to leave.

"I am not leaving him! I'm fine, stop it - Shen Wei! Stay with me. Da Qing is - "

Shen Wei smiles. Zhao Yunlan is fine. Then it's all good. He can rest, just a little while. There's a warm fire in front of him, and he is so tired. There's -

There's a blanket over him, and cushions under him. It is cold in the apartment. Maybe the heat broke. He wonders why he hurts so much, though. Did something happen? Is Zhao Yunlan safe?

"Shh, I'm okay," Zhao Yunlan whispers, close. They're lying tangled together, with the familiar round weight of Da Qing over Shen Wei's feet. There is a lot of blankets piled on them, trapping them in a little cavern of their own, but considering how cold it is, Shen Wei can't blame Zhao Yunlan for seeking a little warmth.

"Oh yes, this is all for me," Zhao Yunlan chuckles. Shen Wei frowns. Soft fingers smooth over his brow and tuck hair back.

"Sleep now."

Shen Wei burrows deeper into Zhao Yunlan's embrace and sighs, content. There is no battlefield here, no mouse. Only the forever stretch of Zhao Yunlan's arms and the colours blooming before Shen Wei as he falls, at last, into a peaceful dream.


/the end.

[marycrawford]

Shen Wei slips away into the void, not looking back, not even to check if Zhao Yunlan is still alive.

[xparrot]

I am SO CURIOUS if you had anything in mind for this prompt...! Anyway this is a combination of this and one of glymr 's prompts from below.

Beware of knives (it's all canon's fault!)(this is why I usually write post-canon ;_;)

*

Shen Wei was not asleep, but he was lying still, meditating deeply, sifting through the ever-shifting warp and weft of the dark energy woven through him. The more abilities he accrued, the more important it was for him to stay aware of all those myriad strands and frequencies, to channel more effectively the power granted him.

So he heard Zhao Yunlan's breathing change, but it took Shen Wei a moment yet to surface, to blink himself back to full awareness. Zhao Yunlan lay beside him on the bed, on his side turned toward Shen Wei--motionless, but for the small rise and fall of his chest--but too fast for deep sleep. And his face--was wet, the tears overflowing from his closed eyes only the faintest shimmer, in the room's darkness.

"Yunlan?" Shen Wei said, sitting up. When there was no answer, he reached out, took hold of Zhao Yunlan's shoulder. Zhao Yunlan's body was rigidly tense, but he didn't react to Shen Wei's touch--asleep, then. Shen Wei gave him a shake, repeated his name, "Zhao Yunlan, wake up."

Zhao Yunlan came out of the dream with a choking gasp. He blinked a few times, eyes focused on nothing, his breathing coming hard and shallow. Then with a mumbled curse he rolled onto his back, pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Shen Wei just watched him for a time, as his breathing steadied, the jerky heaving of his chest slowing; but he didn't take his hands down from his face, and Shen Wei finally asked, "Yunlan? Are you..."

He extended his hand again, tentative. He knew what he himself would have liked in such a time, though that had been so long ago--but Zhao Yunlan was not him. Zhao Yunlan had never needed to wear a mask to fake courage; his bravery and strength were not a matter of what was seen, but what was within. And this was no physical hurt for Shen Wei to heal, not anything any of his array of powers could remedy.

So he touched Zhao Yunlan's shoulder only lightly--a reminder of his presence, but no demand, and steeled himself for Zhao Yunlan to flinch, to shrug him off, as he recovered his own balance.

Instead Zhao Yunlan made another choked sound and rolled over again, back towards Shen Wei, reaching out blindly to grab fistfuls of Shen Wei's pajama top to yank him closer. Shen Wei didn't resist, let himself be pulled down, so Zhao Yunlan could curl up with his head pressed to Shen Wei's chest, and Shen Wei put his arms around him.

Zhao Yunlan was trembling, not the racking shivers of a chill for all the coolness of his skin, but the larger shudders of suppressed sobs--only a couple, and then he caught his breath, held it and then forced it out, long and rattling.

Shen Wei ran a hand down his back, Zhao Yunlan's bare skin under his palm clammy with cold sweat. He used a little tendril of power to draw the blankets back up over both of them without having to unfold his arms from around Zhao Yunlan, and opened wider his capillaries to raise his own skin temperature a little. Zhao Yunlan's breathing evened out--not to sleeping slowness, but more relaxed, and the quivering tension of his body eased as his skin warmed under Shen Wei's hands.

After a little while, Shen Wei tried asking again, "Zhao Yunlan?"

With one hand cupping the back of his neck, he felt Zhao Yunlan swallow. Zhao Yunlan shifted a little, butting his forehead against Shen Wei's chest, without pulling away. Finally said, muffled against Shen Wei's pajamas, "Bad dream. Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Shen Wei asked.

He didn't mean it as a joke, but the shaky breath Zhao Yunlan let go was close to chuckle. "Just, didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep," Shen Wei said, and was grateful that he hadn't been.

Zhao Yunlan rasped another almost-chuckle. "Of course you weren't, it's only, what, two a.m.?"

"Just past three."

"Must be nice," Zhao Yunlan muttered, "not to need sleep or dreams or any of that shit."

"I do need sleep," Shen Wei said. "Just not very much, not when meditation can suffice."

"But no dreams, though."

"No," Shen Wei admitted.

"Don't suppose that's a power you could share."

"It's not a power," Shen Wei said. "Not something I learned, more that...I taught myself." He was ashamed even as he said it.

"You taught yourself. Not to dream." Zhao Yunlan was sounding steadier, at least. He uncurled, pulling back a little from Shen Wei--the fingers of one hand still locked around a fold of Shen Wei's pajama top, but his other hand he put under his head to prop it up, his face turned toward Shen Wei. "So, how'd you do that?" Looking toward him, but his eyes weren't quite focused--the room was too dark for his Haixing vision, Shen Wei realized; Zhao Yunlan probably couldn't see more than his silhouette.

It made it a little easier to confess it, the shadows another mask. "I don't exactly remember how I taught myself; it was a long time ago, I was quite young. Making sounds in the night...it could be dangerous. I didn't know how to keep myself from crying out in nightmares, so..."

"So you just stopped yourself from having them. ....Of course you did." Zhao Yunlan's voice was quiet, his expression in the dark more thoughtful than judgmental. But then, Shen Wei had admitted other cowardice and weaknesses to him long ago, and Zhao Yunlan was yet beside him.

Zhao Yunlan made a cushion of his elbow on top of the pillow and dropped his head onto it, unknotted his fingers from Shen Wei's pajama shirt to find Shen Wei's hand instead, clasping it under the covers. He sidled a little closer again, stuck one cold foot between Shen Wei's calves.

His eyes were still open though, in the dark, looking toward Shen Wei, not quite focused but more directed than when he was blind. Like he was waiting for them to adjust enough to see Shen Wei, before he closed them to sleep.

"Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei asked quietly, "what did you dream about?"

Zhao Yunlan shifted; his lips tightened, a grimace he maybe thought would go unseen. "Eh, it was nothing. Just a stupid nightmare."

"It upset you," Shen Wei said.

He thought his voice was no less calm than before, but Zhao Yunlan's hand tightened his grip on his own, and Zhao Yunlan's mouth moved--rippled and curved, as he breathed out another chuckle. "You can't take your blade to my dreams, you know."

Shen Wei frowned, struck by that thought--he had no power to stop dreams, it was true, but as far as walking in them went--

"--That was a joke," Zhao Yunlan said. "And anyway, this dream, you couldn't...it was you." He swallowed again--clenched his jaw silently and then released it, so his voice sounded nearly normal. "I was--I was lying there, I was hurt, I could barely move, maybe I was dying--and I called for you, I called your name--but you. You turned away. You went away, you vanished, you left--I saw you dwindle into nothingness and you, you didn't even look back..."

Shen Wei nearly couldn't breathe, like Zhao Yunlan's gentle hand was closed around his throat, was closed around his heart, crushing the life from him.

"--It didn't even make sense," Zhao Yunlan said, "it was stupid, it..." He stopped, hearing perhaps the faint tremor in his own voice. His eyes in the dark were glittering slightly and he blinked them, not raising his hand to wipe water from his lashes, when that would be heard in the dark.

As if he thought it might be shameful somehow, that he could hurt, that he had those wounds cut deep in his heart. That loss would be something he feared, when he'd learned it so young and so painfully.

And Shen Wei wanted more than anything to tell him that it was only a dreamed fear, that it would never come to pass, that Shen Wei would never leave him--knew that Zhao Yunlan wanted to hear it, wanted to believe it.

But he had lied, was lying, to Zhao Yunlan, too many times to be able to do it now. Not while he lay next to Zhao Yunlan, sharing the heat of their bodies and the warmth of their skin.

He said instead the only truth he could, the only promise he could make. "If ever--if ever I left you, Zhao Yunlan--I would look back, if I had any way to. I would want your face to be the last thing I saw of this world; I would want your voice to be the last thing I heard."

Zhao Yunlan was quiet for a moment,. Then he made a wet, coughing laugh. "So it wasn't actually you in my stupid nightmare. Just your dream-twin being an asshole."

Shen Wei stayed still until he was sure his breath would not come out too harshly, his voice would be composed. Light, to match the tone Zhao Yunlan was trying for. "Apparently."

Zhao Yunlan exhaled, shakily, but his lips were curving again. "That's...good to know."

Under the covers, he inched closer to Shen Wei, their hands still clasped, elbows crooked in the narrow space between them. His foot between Shen Wei's calves was warming, yet still he wormed it under the hem of the pajamas, their knees bumping, to tickle Shen Wei's skin with his wiggling toes.

He was still looking at Shen Wei blindly in the dark. Shen Wei reached out to the wind, pulled enough air to him to make a draft to shift the curtain, parting one side to let the moonlight shine into the room.

That pale glow fell across Zhao Yunlan's face, limning the perfect curves of his nose, his lips, each trim wiry hair on his chin; bringing out the dark fire of his eyes, fixing now on Shen Wei's face. How clearly those eyes could see, even in this light, Shen Wei wasn't sure. Well enough at least for their gazes to meet. For Zhao Yunlan to smile at him--to lean over and kiss Shen Wei's mouth, gently.

Shen Wei let the draft go, the curtain falling back in place. In the restored dark, Zhao Yunlan settled his head once more on his arm. He let his eyes close now, still holding Shen Wei's hand. Yawned, and spoke around it, mumbled half into the pillow, "You know, if you ever do dream again, if you could remember how--I'd be here, whatever your dreams were like."

"I know," Shen Wei told him, and in the dark gladly watched Zhao Yunlan smile, held his hand and counted his slowing breaths, as he drifted back to a more peaceful sleep.

[frith_in_thorns]

Shen Wei drugged or concussed or similar and trying really really really hard to focus but it's difficult.

out of focus (1/2)

[xparrot]

:D :D :D this prompt...

...This is not even really h/c...Shen Wei is feeling no pain. It is, however, catastrophically self-indulgent. I apologize to anyone ever?

***

"Shen Wei?" Shen Wei was gazing up at the ceiling, mumbling something under his breath. Zhao Yunlan patted his cheek, and watched Shen Wei blink, his gaze wandering down to eventually meet Zhao Yunlan's. "You still with me, Shen Wei?"

"Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei said, and smiled, beatifically, looking so unnaturally relaxed that Zhao Yunlan got a whole new crop of guilt to add to his growing stockpile.

"I hate to do this," Zhao Yunlan told him, "but we're running out of time—you need to try one more time."

"Okay," Shen Wei immediately agreed, straightening up and matching his serious expression. Then he blinked a couple more times. "...Try what?"

"The thing," Zhao Yunlan said, "the door-locking—whatever—come on, get up," and he hooked his hand under Shen Wei's elbow and pulled him up off the floor. Shen Wei, to his credit, made an effort to help, but he staggered before he was fully vertical, flailed and grabbed for the wall, bracing heavily against it.

"Ah," he said, his brow furrowing in protest, "this floor, it's too..."

"Yeah," Zhao Yunlan said, "I know, sorry, but..." He got one of Shen Wei's arms around his shoulder, wrapped his own arm around Shen Wei's waist. Shen Wei reeled with a breathless catch that in someone else might have been a giggle, willingly tilting into Zhao Yunlan. Just a couple before he'd been able to walk by himself still, if not in a completely straight line, but now he clung like Zhao Yunlan's arm was a rope in a hurricane as he staggered forward.

"Thank you, Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei said, his lolling back on Zhao Yunlan's shoulder, his breath warm in Zhao Yunlan's ear. "You...Zhao...Yun...Lan." Less like he was trying to get his attention, more like he was just enjoying the syllables on his tongue.

"Almost there," Zhao Yunlan told him, "and you're almost done." He hoped. It looked like the device just needed one more adjustment, that last bar slid down, but he didn't really have a clue.

Their wannabe terrorist had apparently thought he'd bought some black-market Dixing trap, to imprison the fearsome Hei Pao Shi. He'd been ripped off.

The problem was that by the time Shen Wei himself had realized what was going on, he'd already taken four hits...Five? Six? Zhao Yunlan hadn't been paying that close attention, not until Shen Wei had stumbled, had put his hand to his head. He'd been affected enough by then for his explanation to be somewhat muddled. As far as Zhao Yunlan had followed it, the device trapping them here was more commonly used as some kind of...Dixing drinking game/escape room entertainment. Every time the puzzle-lock was manipulated another step, it locked down for a few minutes—and also emitted a charge of distorted dark energy that had a marked, if apparently not unpleasant, effect on Dixing neurology.

A temporary effect, Shen Wei had earnestly assured him, and not a dangerous one, but the effects were cumulative over the short-term. And intended to be spread among a bunch of Dixingren. If they could've taken the time, paused between attempts—but they didn't have the minutes to spare, not when the lock's seal also blocked phone signals for Zhao Yunlan to call out of this windowless room. And the clock was counting down, less than an hour to go, if the asshole currently laid out on the floor hadn't been lying.

Of course maybe he had been. Or else the rest of the SID had already found the bomb, evacuated the train; his team were no slouches. And that was if this guy could actually put together a functional explosive, which Zhao Yunlan had serious doubts about. But they didn't know, not until they got out of here, and for that—"Shen Wei?"

"Hmm?" Shen Wei said. His eyes were closed now and he was sagging against Zhao Yunlan—or more like plastering himself against him, like a drunk clutching at a streetlamp.

"The device," Zhao Yunlan told him, "you have to...do the thing. Come on, wake up, stay with me," and he jostled his hip against Shen Wei's.

Shen Wei blinked, raised his head with some effort. "The thing," he mumbled. "Yes, the..." He blinked his eyes hard, widened them. "Zhao Yunlan, you..."

That sounded a little more with it, the mumble sharpening with concern. "Yeah? What's wrong?"

"—Your eyelashes," Shen Wei said, carefully enunciated. "I can't see them, they're too..." His eyes crossed and he blinked them back, raised his hand to Zhao Yunlan's face. "They're fuzzy."

"Okay, I'll work on that," Zhao Yunlan told him, pushing off his hand before he got poked in the eye. "But the thing—can you see this device?"

"Device?" Shen Wei was still squinting in perplexed frustration at Zhao Yunlan's face.

Zhao Yunlan touched his cheek, gently turned his head toward the whatsit before the door. "The thing. You need to open it, remember?"

"The—yes." Shen Wei tried to straighten up from his slump, ended up at a more lopsided angle; Zhao Yunlan tightened his grip around his waist to keep him from melting back to the floor. Shen Wei didn't seem to notice, staring fixedly if hazily at the device. "I...I have to...to..."

He blinked again. Zhao Yunlan didn't blame him; the thing's polished metal, a maze of gears and crossed bars, was enough to make him dizzy, and he was stone-cold sober. "You have to open the last bar by the lock—the copper one, in there," and he pointed as well as he could, through the layers of mechanisms. He didn't dare bump anything—he couldn't move any of it anyway, without dark energy, and they'd already have it open if he hadn't tried earlier and triggered some trap that set them back a couple steps.

"The..." Shen Wei was reaching out his hand, toward the device, but not in the right area; Zhao Yunlan hastily grabbed his wrist.

"Whoa, no, not there, and the last thing you need is an extra hit." Zhao Yunlan had doubts he was going to be conscious after this hopefully last one. "The copper bar. The orangey one. "

"The orangey one," Shen Wei repeated. "That. That's..." He leaned in and then leaned back against Zhao Yunlan's arm, like he was trying to physically focus with his entire body when his eyes weren't managing it. "Zhao Yunlan, I...I feel odd."

Zhao Yunlan sighed, gave his waist a squeeze. "I know, baby, that's why you have to open this thing, and then we can go home and you can sleep this off."

"Home," Shen Wei murmured, then shook his head. "No," he said.

"No?"

"I don't want to sleep," Shen Wei said, with pouting obstinacy. "Home...and then you can fuck me."

Zhao Yunlan nearly staggered himself. "I can—"

"I want you to fuck me," Shen Wei said, pronouncing each word with dignified precision, including the one Zhao Yunlan couldn't remember ever hearing him say. He pressed himself up against Zhao Yunlan. "It always feels so good, when you're inside me. When I know you're there."

"Shen Wei, this—really isn't—" It was a challenge to fend him off while still keeping him from falling over. And not encouraging him by meeting his fuzzy yet all-too-intent gaze. Zhao Yunlan's hastily roving eyes fell on their criminal, collapsed in the corner. Shen Wei had put him down with a sleep spell or something and the guy just better hope it lasted, because if he woke up now Zhao Yunlan was totally going to kick him unconscious again.

Shen Wei had somehow contrived to wrap both of his arms around Zhao Yunlan—still clinging, but not just to keep on his feet, by where his hands were going. His lips were brushing Zhao Yunlan's ear, a wash of moist breath against his skin. "I want to fuck you too," Shen Wei said, "but right now...it wouldn't...it takes a lot of, of. Coordinating. Coordination."

Ironic he should say that; he maybe couldn't get himself vertical right now but he was coordinating his hand on Zhao Yunlan's ass just fine, even through the jeans. And certain traitorous parts of Zhao Yunlan's anatomy were trying to convert the adrenaline of urgency into something else altogether. "Coordination," Zhao Yunlan said, heard his voice crack and desperately battened it down. "Yeah, speaking of that—the door, remember, you need to open the door."

"The door..." Shen Wei mercifully paused his clumsy but all too effective groping.

"Yeah, the thingie, you just want to poke at it one more time—"

Shen Wei followed that well enough to look over at the device, then frowned, a deep line between his brows. "I don't," he said. "I don't want to touch that again."

Zhao Yunlan breathed out shakily. "Yeah, I get that, but—"

"I want to touch you, Zhao Yunlan," Shen Wei said, and kissed him, sloppy and hungry and Zhao Yunlan knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying this, not with everything at stake now, and not when Shen Wei was in this state, when he didn't even know what the hell he was doing—

—Though it was hard to believe he didn't have any idea. Zhao Yunlan hadn't really thought about it much, because he'd just assumed that the only type of drunk he'd ever see Shen Wei be was flat-on-his-back unconscious. If he'd been asked, though, he'd have predicted that Shen Wei would be a morose drunk, maudlin, feeling the weight of the world all the more profoundly. Uninhibitedly, wildly horny wouldn't have been his guess—his daydream maybe, but—

—But he was still the supposedly clear-headed one here, and also time limit, and if Shen Wei had recovered enough to be up for this—Zhao Yunlan took hold of Shen Wei's shoulders and pushed him back to break the kiss. Shen Wei made a protesting moan and tried to wind his way back around Zhao Yunlan like he was an honorary member of the Snake Tribe, until Zhao Yunlan said firmly, "Shen Wei, no."

[glymr]

Nightmares, and the aftermath thereof.

[xparrot]

Ahh, a perennial favorite -- I combined this with marycrawford 's prompt!

nightmares

[glymr]

Another one for you:

I've seen a few versions of this, but there can never be too many: Shen Wei has a weird allergic reaction with an unexpected outcome to some Dixing item/food/etc.

[frith_in_thorns]

It was an undergraduate class in one of the neighbouring labs who had caused the evacuation of the entire floor, and none of them looked sure whether to be horrified or delighted at their achievement. That was, until the medics arrived and declared that everyone had to be given a counteragent injection, just to be on the safe side. Then their reaction definitely tipped towards horror, especially when they realised that some of the more senior people in the corral set up in one of the lecture theatres were responsible for their grades that year.

Shen Wei felt more amusement than irritation, since he wasn't working to a deadline and had nowhere else he needed to be. Under the guise of mingling to chat while he waited he had already used his dark energy to locate and heal anyone seriously affected by the toxin, although of course he trusted the effectiveness of Haixing medicine. It rendered the need for the counteragent moot, but obviously he had no way to explain that so he lined up along with everyone else.

The injection was quick, professional, virtually painless. "Thank you," Shen Wei said, with a smile, and stood up, and was almost out of the lecture theatre before he realised that something in his body was going horribly wrong.

It started with a pressure behind his eyes, rapidly building into shocking pain. He put a hand to his forehead, digging in with his fingertips, and then his vision began to fragment and the room spun giddily, unaccountably.

He — he couldn't —

He tried to grab the doorframe for balance but he missed somehow, his hand sliding past it and sending him off-balance. He needed to — to —

The floor tilted further and he hit the ground heavily without having realised he was falling. The pressure was still building in his head, blinding agony, and he pressed his hands there and curled his body in and he couldn't make out what the alarmed voices around him were saying over the buzzing in his ears and he was losing his sense of what was happening, losing time.

Hands, voices, all blurred and indistinct. He didn't know what was happening any more and tried to open his eyes but all that was blurred too, smeared light and colours and dizzy movement and it all hurt and he was cold and he couldn't even grasp his dark energy, his head was splitting open and he felt sick and he was being moved and everything was a nightmare swirl of unreality.

Hand. In his. Through all the pain and confusion he knew its shape and the warmth and scent of the body bent near to him. "Yunlan," he forced out, the name in his mouth gifting him a fraction of stability. And Zhao Yunlan's voice murmured in his ear in response although the individual syllables were lost. Shen Wei clung to him, a buoy in a storm, shivering and desperate and drowning.

A little later he was being violently sick into a basin and Zhao Yunlan was supporting him, rubbing his thumb against Shen Wei's neck. Shen Wei moaned, clammy with sweat and too cold, and Zhao Yunlan kissed his hair. "It's okay, baby, it's okay," he murmured, over and over. Shen Wei leaned into him, limp and wrung out, and closed his eyes again because things were still swimming dizzily. He focused on Zhao Yunlan's touch, his voice, and when his hand quested for something to hold onto Zhao Yunlan took it immediately and squeezed. Shen Wei squeezed it back and Zhao Yunlan's voice was pleased even as it was going indistinct again.

Later, again, he tried to shift position and found Zhao Yunlan's hand touching his face gently. "Shen Wei? Are you awake?"

He opened his eyes, very cautiously. But though the light did its best to stab straight into his head it was about bearable. Much more welcome was the sight of Zhao Yunlan, although he looked tired, his hair dishevelled. But he smiled widely at Shen Wei. "Hey! How are you feeling?"

Shen Wei tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. Zhao Yunlan helped him sit up and sip from a glass of water. He was in a hospital room. "My head hurts," he said, when he could.

"Yeah," Zhao Yunlan said, sympathetically. "You had an awful reaction to the anti-toxin. Freaked everyone out." He gave a smile that was a bit shaky at the edges.

Shen Wei tried to sit up properly but his head swirled and his eyes were crowded with dark specks for a moment. He groaned, dizzy.

Zhao Yunlan arms were around him immediately, helping him lie back down. "Shhh, take it easy," he said, soothingly. "You'll be okay, it just needs to work its way out of your system. Lie down and relax, okay?"

It was easy to comply, when he felt like this. Shen Wei turned on his side so that he could press his forehead into Zhao Yunlan's chest. Zhao Yunlan's hand smoothed through his hair, anchoring him, murmuring soft endearments. "Go to sleep, baby," Zhao Yunlan told him. "I'm here, it's all okay."

Shen Wei drifted off. Knowing that Zhao Yunlan held onto him, a tether.

[glymr]

*wibbles* Oh, Shen Wei, baby. Oh, it must be so hard for him to be sick, too - he probably hasn't had to deal with it in a long time since he's got magical healing abilities, so this is probably the first time it's been this bad in thousands of years. And Zhao Yunlan, how he must have been freaking out until they figured out what was wrong! "MY SUPERHERO BOYFRIEND IS SICK, FIX HIM NOW PLEASE!"

Thank you so much for writing my prompt!

[frith_in_thorns]

You're extremely welcome, I'm glad you liked my fill! It's definitely a scenario I can absolutely never get enough of ^^;

Zhao Yunlan would have been The Most freaked out. Especially because of having to maintain Shen Wei's cover at the same time!

[frith_in_thorns]

Shen Wei thinking he's minorly hurt, but it's actually a lot worse than he realises (maybe adrenaline, maybe he's in shock, maybe he just didn't pay enough attention to how serious the pain signals he's been ignoring were). Zhao Yunlan notices first.

[wintersoldier77]

It’s almost midnight when they finally finish the case.

It was a hell of a fight, the bastard was seriously adept at controlling Youchong and other horrible creatures, and the entire SID did not get away without at least a scratch or scrape each.

When finally they managed to apprehend the suspect that had been haunting their steps for several weeks, they were essentially all knocked down in simultaneous relief and injury.

Shen Wei was the only one who remained standing, his cuts and scratches minor. He’s not uncomfortable at all, he’s had worse happen to him. Several of the SID need stitches and Zhao Yunlan is holding his arm, probably in need of relocation.

He walks over to where Zhao Yunlan is sitting on the ground, coming up behind him, and places his hand on Yunlan’s shoulder. Zhao Yunlan doesn’t turn, but Shen Wei can see him smile weakly with his eyes closed. He seems to be dazed and worn out from the fight because he doesn’t make a move to get up or reach for Shen Wei, breath hitching weakly.

“Xiao Wei,” he mumbles.

Sending out as steady a pulse of dark energy as he can, Shen Wei feels a wet cough bubble up, but he forces himself to swallow, to keep putting everything he has in him into Zhao Yunlan’s body. His other hand is holding the back of Yunlan’s neck, thumb slowly stroking as Zhao Yunlan winces and exhales pain-filled breaths.

Slowly but surely, all the cuts are healed and the shoulder is back in its place. It seems as though Zhao Yunlan was unaware of how deep his injuries and his exhaustion were, but now he is re-energized enough to turn around, open his eyes, and steal a kiss.

“Shen Wei, holy shit, you didn’t have to-”

He cuts short as his mouth drops open in horror.

Shen Wei startles. The satisfied smile on his face falls immediately as he registers his beloved’s appalled expression.

“What’s wrong?” he says lightly, barely noticing how he wobbles back and forth, the blood dripping down his face from where he was struck in the head.

“What the fuck, you absolute fucking idiot!” Zhao Yunlan all but screams, immediately coming around to wrap himself around Shen Wei and oh.

Oh.

Suddenly it makes sense.
“Zhao Yunlan, I’m fine. It’s just a few scratches,” Shen Wei says with a smile, even as he’s starting to notice the pain radiating from all the lacerations and that huge gaping one across his chest and how his head pounds, how it pounds.

“You bastard, you’ve been torn to shreds and that’s all you can tell me? I swear to the heavens this son of a-” Zhao Yunlan cuts himself off with a sobbing gasp as he tears his jacket off with shaking hands to at least try to staunch that massive wound on his best friend’s chest.

The rest of the SID seems to stir from where they’ve been nursing their wounds and they’re almost equally horrified to see Shen Wei’s condition even with their own scratches.

Shen Wei flushes under their scrutiny and looks away from Zhao Yunlan, swallowing back the remaining blood in his throat. He suddenly feels weak, but he has to help the others, he has to help-

“Would you please stay fucking still for a moment? You’re losing so much blood. Please tell me you left something for yourself,” Zhao Yunlan’s voice is high and desperate and Shen Wei really wants to lie.

“I…” he hesitates, but he knows there’s no way out. “I am… depleted for the time being.”

Zhao Yunlan inhales in that way that Shen Wei knows means he’s trying not to hit something and he swallows again, watching him closely.

“Of fucking course you didn’t,” Zhao Yunlan states, voice shaking. “You actual fucking asshole, my arm was dislocated and I had a few scratches, I would have been fine! You, on the other hand… how could you not fucking heal yourself?!”

“I can handle it, I just need to know you’re well,” Shen Wei says blithely, even as his body is making him alert to even more scratches he didn’t know he had.

Zhao Yunlan’s grip on Shen Wei’s jacket tightens. “You- I’m not well if you’re not! Especially if you’re… like this, how could you ever think that this is okay?”

Shen Wei says nothing.

“Damn you, I fucking love you, Shen Wei! You have to let me care too! Please! I can’t do this without you, my best friend, my partner, my everything!”

Shen Wei feels something, hot, wet, trickling out of his eyes. He belatedly notices that he’s crying and he’s not sure if it’s because of the pain or because of Zhao Yunlan’s honest and desperate words.
“Zhao Yunlan, I’m not-”

“Shut up, Shen Wei. I know you’re going to say something stupid about yourself and I honestly cannot handle this right now. You’re going to shut up, and you’re going to let yourself be cared for because honest to all the heavens, if you don’t listen for once in your life, I will never let you come on a case again. Am I clear on that?”

Shen Wei looks up at Zhao Yunlan’s teary face, his wobbling lip and he feels something far worse than the wound in his chest tear him apart. He nods silently.

“Good.”

Three ambulances come eventually. Zhao Yunlan gets Shen Wei on the first.

[no_detective]

shen wei gets hit by some kind of spell or bug and suddenly has the power to hear people's dreams... as in, from miles around and practically 24/7, because - kicker - he can't turn it off or get away from it in any way. he only manages to get out of his own head and get some rest while zhao yunlan is talking to/singing* to him.

*100% shamelessly inspired by that scene in the car in episode 14, when zyl sings and sw tries (and fails) to hide a grin.

1/3

[naye]

DISCLAIMER: this fic is nearly 7k, I wrote it in a day, and it's way past my bedtime. I am dumping this here and falling asleep hoping it makes some kind of sense. Anyone who wants to can wait and read the edited version I'm definitely posting on AO3, because 7k I don't know what kind of magic juice xparrot put in in this post but WOW.

Also OMG no_detective this is all your fault. ♥

---

Unexpected as it is to head out from the SID for nice dinner out and be jumped by some wild-eyed kid, Zhao Yunlan finds there is a certain comfortable routine in wrestling him and his four completely normal limbs to the ground. There's no bruising himself against a hardening power, and none of the frustration of grasping someone who disappears in a flash. He's just there on the wet sidewalk, pinned under Zhao Yunlan's knee, yelling about wanting his sister back and clutching that knife he is so bad at actually using that Zhao Yunlan feels a little embarrassed for him.

At least until Shen Wei reaches down to snatch it away before the kid can accidentally hurt himself, and Zhao Yunlan sees its wicked edge flash in the streetlight as it nicks the side of Shen Wei's hand. Blood wells up in the hairline cut, looking almost black in the dimness. There's a swirl of dark energy around it, and Zhao Yunlan has gone cold with remembered dread before he sees it heal up and Shen Wei gingerly puts the knife down out of reach.

"Did it—"

"It's fine." Shen Wei gives Zhao Yunlan a quick, apologetic smile, which wards off the rest of his panic. He can still feel the impact of too-recent memories and fear striking his resolve like raindrops on their discarded umbrella, but he can tell Shen Wei isn't lying to him.

Lao Chu pops his head out, and then sends his strings to truss up their attacker. There is some ribbing about the SID arresting kids for being out after dark, especially since Shen Wei soon confirms there's nothing Dixingren about him. His sister definitely is, though from his half-sobbed story his only family going missing has nothing to do with any of the SID's current cases. Wang Zheng calls their contact at the local police office, and Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei miss their dinner reservation while the kid is bundled up by a tired social worker and a sympathetic cop. The SID don't mention the knife, and the kid doesn't make any more threats, and all in all it could have gone a lot worse. Officially, they don't handle missing Dixingren cases.

Unofficially, Zhu Hong and Da Qing are already off talking to Yashou contacts, while Xiao Guo and Lao Chu prepare to canvas the kinds of places where your average Dragon City cop might not think to go for information.

Shen Wei takes a seat away from the main proceedings, which makes sense. He's got no authority over reckless Haixingren kids, and as far as their local law enforcement friends know he's just a consultant with the SID who happened to be going on a date with Chief Zhao. When Zhao Yunlan goes to collect him he's sitting up very straight in a chair, a deep furrow between his brows, his gaze fixed on nothing. His expression makes Zhao Yunlan check his phone for the time and wince. "Hey. Sorry about dinner."

Shen Wei doesn't look up. It's not like him to pout over missed opportunities, but maybe he'd really been looking forward to trying those famous baked stuffed crab shells. Zhao Yunlan hops up on the table, dangling his legs in Shen Wei's space. "Do you want to grab soup dumplings on the way home? The place on the corner's got two kinds with crab."

The way Shen Wei flinches has absolutely nothing to do with the dinner suggestion. Zhao Yunlan's stomach drops. "Shen Wei?"

"Zhao Yunlan." There is a sharp edge in Shen Wei's voice, and when he looks up his eyes are haunted. "The fire... There's no fire, is there?"

There is absolutely no good reason why Shen Wei should be asking that question, and lots of bad ones. Zhao Yunlan casts about for the scent of smoke. "What. Here?"

Shen Wei shakes his head. "No. I..." He adjusts his glasses, then squints, as if someone's shining a bright light in his eyes. "Nothing. I thought..."

"Did you smell something? See something?"

Shen Wei blinks at him.

"Shen Wei. Are you having some kind of visions? Should be call the fire department or something, just in case-"

"No," Shen Wei says rapidly. "No, it wasn't here. It was-" His eyes widen, and his hands fist on top of his knees. "Oh. No."

Zhao Yunlan leans forward, the toe of his boot on the edge of the chair as he grabs Shen Wei's shoulders. "Shen Wei? What's happening? Talk to me." He should make his voice steady and calming, but there is such terror coiling him him that Wang Zheng looks up sharply at his tone.

"There's no screaming, is there?" Shen Wei says, far too calmly, his face still drawn with tension.

Zhao Yunlan hears no screams, only the clatter of keys, which stops as he looks around. He meets Wang Zheng's worried gaze. She shakes her head minutely. She hasn't heard anything either. "No," he tells Shen Wei. "We can't hear anything. But if this is one of your powers..."

Shen Wei shakes his head, sharply. "No. This isn't - I can't..." He ends on a gasp, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to catch sight of a fast-moving something.

It is horror-movie creepy, and Zhao Yunlan has to check the high ceilings to make sure there's no monstrosity with twisted limbs scuttling around there before he squeezes Shen Wei's shoulders and says, "Shen Wei. There's no fire. No screams. We're in the SID, with you, and there's nothing else here." Not right now at least. If this is a vision, their future is looking terrifying.

At his words, Shen Wei exhales slowly. "That's right, baby. Come on. Tell me what's going on."

Shen Wei's wandering gaze has been distant, but now he locks on to Zhao Yunlan, and it's almost like he can feel Shen Wei snapping into focus. "Something happened. The past - hour? There's been whispers, glimpses - growing stronger. I thought..." The shoulders under Zhao Yunlan's hands are drawn taut enough to shiver imperceptibly. "I didn't think they were real. But I can't stop them."

"Okay. Okay." Zhao Yunlan takes a deep breath. Notices the way Shen Wei's eyes are darting to the side again.

"Shen Wei. There's nothing here. Everything is fine." Except that Shen Wei is trying very hard not to freak out.

"Ch-chief Zhao?"

Zhao Yunlan has been so focused on Shen Wei he didn't notice Sang Zan coming up next to them. He is carefully carrying the kid's knife, and places it on the table. "This...maybe?"

Zhao Yunlan stares at it. It's a bit short for a dagger, but it's got two wicked cutting edges, and a bone handle elaborately carved with some kind of fantastic creature. The blade is as dark in here as it had seemed outside at night. "Dixing steel?"

Shen Wei turns to look at it, and nods. "Yes...but..." He reaches for it, and Zhao Yunlan slaps his hand aside in a lightbulb moment. The Dixing knife cut Shen Wei to a burst of dark energy, and now Shen Wei is having visions? Yeah.

"Do you recognize it?" Zhao Yunlan asks, looking from Sang Zan to Shen Wei. "Whatever's happening, it started after the damn thing cut you."

Sang Zan points at the handle without touching it. Says, quite firmly, "D-dream eater."

Shen Wei's eyes widen, and Zhao Yunlan lets him go, crossing his legs under him to allow Shen Wei better access. But still no touching.

"You're right," he tells Sang Zan, who looks equal parts delighted and concerned. "Oh, then..."

Zhao Yunlan squints at the thing. Whoever carved it marked the outline of the stylized beast with what's probably meant to be fur, and he can make out big paws with long claws and - is that a trunk? Like an elephant or something. "Dream-eater?"

"A Dixing beast. Rare, very rare." Shen Wei looks thoughtfully at the bone, then startles. Zhao Yunlan grabs his wrist before he can accidentally touch it, and Shen Wei is shaking his head as if to dislodge a fly from his nose, eyes squeezed shut. Shen Wei bites off an exclamation.

Zhao Yunlan pulls Shen Wei's hand to his chest, strokes his thumb over the back of it. "Hey. There's nothing here. You're okay."

Shen Wei opens his eyes, and Zhao Yunlan sees relief there.

"So what do we know about this thing?" Zhao Yunlan asks. "Should we ask Dixing for help, or-"

As if summoned by his words Sang Zan returns to slides a battered book onto the table. From her desk, Wang Zheng beams at them.

"Here." Sang Zan opens the book to a page with an illustration that looks vaguely similar to the carving.

"Wow. Sang Zan! That's amazing work," Zhao Yunlan exclaims, as Shen Wei quickly scans the densely printed traditional characters. He's resting one hand lightly on the book to keep it flat, but doesn't seem in any hurry to reclaim his other hand.

"It...it's the same?" Sang Zan asks, with careful professional pride.

"Yes," Shen Wei says, then draws a quick breath. "Yes, it is. Dream-eater bone - you can open the door to dreams with it. What I'm... what I'm experiencing is..." He loses the words as he grimaces, and Zhao Yunlan squeezes his hand.

"You're - hearing dreams?"

Shen Wei looks gratefully at him. "Yes."

"Whose?" Nobody at the SID is asleep, and while most neighbors will have closed up their shops they wouldn't be asleep yet.

Shen Wei swallows. "I'm not sure. It's - there's many of them."

"Many? But it's still kind of early?"

"Yes," Shen Wei says, and there's strain in his voice as he focuses on Zhao Yunlan.

"So. If you're taking in the entire neighborhood..."

"City," Shen Wei says. He looks slightly ashamed, as if it's somehow his fault he isn't being tormented by a smaller segment of the local population.

"What?"

"Possibly - further."

"Oh, shit." Then it's going to get worse as night settles over Haixing and most people snuggled into bed to dream. And if means they probably can't solve anything by driving Shen Wei up into the mountains or anything.

Shen Wei tenses and twists away from the book, staring out at - at someone's nightmare? Zhao Yunlan can imagine that being pretty bad. He tugs at Shen Wei's hand, pulling him close. "Does the book say anything about how to stop it?"

"Yes," Shen Wei says, as Sang Zan nods his agreement. "Dawn."

This releases the knot of fear that has been tightening around Zhao Yunlan's heart. "So it's not permanent," he says, needing to hear confirmation.

Shen Wei squeezes in between Zhao Yunlan's legs, and grabs his shoulder in a reassuring grip. "No. Unless a more complicated transfer of energy is done the effects will dissipate come morning."

So there is a ceremony to curse someone with eternal nightmares. That's a thing that exists. Zhao Yunlan tamps down on his urge to express what he feels about the people who decided to make the knife in the first place, and focus on the bright side: Shen Wei only got hit with a temporary dose of it. They lock eyes, and Shen Wei nods and smiles comfortingly for about two seconds before his long lashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks furiously and pinches his lips together.

"Hey," Zhao Yunlan says, hopping off the table so he can gather Shen Wei into a proper embrace, rubbing a hand between Shen Wei's shoulder blades. "Hey, it's okay. There's nothing there." It feels good to know it's true when he says it.

With the others there, Shen Wei doesn't quite relax into Zhao Yunlan's arms, but his shoulders move as he heaves a breath to expel some of the tension. "Yeah," Zhao Yunlan says. "I'm taking you home now."

Shen Wei doesn't even protest. Maybe because they'd already left for the day when all this started, and maybe because he's back to twitching slightly at sounds only he can hear. When they're in the Jeep Zhao Yunlan turns on the radio, hoping that and the soothing swish of window wipers it will drown out the nightmares for Shen Wei.

Instead what it does is drown out the slight sounds of distress that should have alerted Zhao Yunlan to the fact that Shen Wei is getting completely swept up in them. He pulls over, ignoring the honking of angry drivers taken by surprise, and shakes Shen Wei's shoulder. "Shen Wei? It's okay, we're in the car on the way home. There's no-"

"Screaming," Shen Wei says softly, his glasses reflecting the red of the tail lights passing by.

"Yeah. Those are just nightmares."

Shen Wei shudders. "Yes."

[yue_ix]

Scars

[no_detective]

iiiiii would like to second this prompt, please

[yue_ix]

Muffled screams.

[duckwhatduck]

The bomb is meshed in a tangle of coruscating threads of dark energy that make Zhao Yunlan's head ache every time he looks at it directly. Luckily, he doesn't have to look at it: that's Shen Wei's job. All Zhao Yunlan has to do is keep these mooks from distracting Shen Wei while he disarms the thing - all he can do; regular explosives he can handle, but this Gordian knot of dark energy is intentionally designed so no Haixingren has a hope of disarming it, only a Dixingren with the skill and the patience to unpick each hair-trigger strand of the puzzle.

That is to say, it will take Shen Wei. Who is standing, as he has been since they rushed into the building and found it, in front of the device; both of them wrapped in a bubble of power. His eyes are closed, his forehead furrowed in intense concentration, dark energy gathering in his hands. Occasionally a flicker of energy will flash out, and delicately, carefully, sever a thread from the snarl.

Zhao Yunlan doesn't have time to stop and watch, though: the bomb isn't their only problem. Either there's time left on the bomb's countdown, Ye Zun and Ya Qing simply have no problem sending minions into a building they're about to blow up, or, most likely, both. Either way, there's plenty of them. He whirls and ducks under a punch, slams a fist up into an opponent's face, raises his gun in the other hand, fires.
He doesn't see whether the shot hits its mark - catches instead the motion of an arm in his peripheral vision, flings his own up and back to parry, meets no resistance. His forearm flies through a cloud of smoke and feathers, and he swears as he stumbles. Then there are flapping wings battering at his face, and claws scrabbling for his eyes. He throws his arms up in a vain attempt to cover his head, and the gun clatters to the ground.

Blinded by the battering wings, and the blood now dripping into his eyes from the cuts the crow's talons have left across his forehead, he doesn't see the blow that knocks him down coming. He doubles over, dropping to his knees, and whoever it is kicks him again, sending him sprawling on the floor before twisting his arm up behind his back to hold him in place, sending pain lancing through his shoulder joint. A knee drives into his lower back.

The wings are gone, the Yashou resuming his human form to kick the gun out of reach, and cock his head significantly at someone. Booted feet step forward.

This one is definitely Dixingren, not Yashou, Zhao Yunlan thinks, rather inanely, as the man kneels down beside him, energy flickering in his hand as he reaches out to touch Zhao Yunlan's face. He flinches away, but the rough hands twisting his arm won't let him move far enough to matter, and cool fingers brush his skin.

Every nerve in his body suddenly burns, a wash of electric pain rushing through him. He jerks as power rushes through his nervous system, licks down his nerves and sends them into overdrive, heightening every sensation to the point of agony. Nothing registers as anything but pain - the roughness of the floor against his cheek feels like it's scraping the skin from his bones; the texture of his own clothing itches and burns. The weight on his back is crushing. The cool fingertips resting against his face are freezing, searing cold. The pain in his shoulder heightens from "uncomfortable" to agony. He opens his mouth to scream -

(if he screams now, Shen Wei will hear; will drop everything to help him, and oh god, he needs help right now - )

- and stops, biting it off into a choking gasp.

If he screams now, Shen Wei will hear; will drop everything to help him, and Shen Wei can't do that. A sudden flash of memory rushes over Zhao Yunlan - a quiet hospital room, Shen Wei holding a bomb, carefully, so carefully in his steady hands; remembers Zhao Yunlan's own hands, as he cut the wires. He remembers the wire between the cutter blades, the way his focus had narrowed, closed in on that singular, essential task. Steady hands.
Imagines that focus shattered by screams.

Thinks of Shen Wei, now, a few yards away, cutting through something more complex and just as delicate - and he can shut out the sounds of fighting while he does it: this is Shen Wei, his powers of concentration are phenomenal, but -

Either he will shut out Zhao Yunlan's screams too, and he can scream himself hoarse, but all he'll do is give his captors the satisfaction of hearing it. Or, worse, he won't. He'll flinch. He'll look away. He'll cut the wrong wire. And then, they're all fucked.

And, he realizes suddenly, that's what they want. He was here to keep Shen Wei from being distracted; they'll use him to create that distraction.

He gasps, swallows a whimper. Stays, almost, silent.

The one on his back twists his arm again, and the world shatters into stabbing shards of dizzying pain. Scrabbling blindly, Zhao Yunlan manages to bring his arm up, though moving, too, is fresh agony. His hand finds something - an arm? - paws futilely at it.

The hand on his cheek moves away as he bats at it, and the world regains some clarity for a moment. Before he can act on that, though, before he can do anything but lie there gasping, it clamps back on - harder, harsher, this time, grabbing the back of his neck instead of stroking his cheek.

The world whites out with pain. He can't keep from screaming, this time, but -

His arm is here now, by his face. He can't see, he can barely feel - everything is a cloud of formless hurt - but his arm is...here -

The pain hits and he convulses helplessly, but as he spasms he crams his wrist into his mouth, muffles the scream before it can escape.

He holds it there; bites down, the pain of his own teeth against his skin grounding for a second before it melts into the rest of the pain that is everywhere.

He's simultaneously hyper-aware of every nerve in his body as the burning, searing, power licks along them, and completely lost, losing track of where his limbs are, where his body ends; that he even has a concrete form, is not just made of burning.

He loses track of his body, loses track of time, loses track of everything. The only thing he clings to is the conviction that he mustn't scream. Mustn't distract Shen Wei until he's done.

Shen Wei

The burning white-hot pain is shot through with grey and black, dimming out around the edges. There's a metallic, bitter taste at the back of his throat, and he's choking, there's something in his mouth, he can't breathe around it, can't scream around it, it's suffocating -

He wants to spit it out, bite through it, but there's a reason he shouldn't, wasn't there?

He has to -

Hold on. Steady hands.

He mustn't -

He shakes, whimpers, chokes on his own saliva and blood, shudders under the weight and the pain.

When it's over, there's not enough of him left aware to notice. He doesn't hear the flurry of violence as Shen Wei finishes, turns, sees him - doesn't feel his assailants flung off him. None of it tracks - it's only a new sensation, and all that means is pain, and all that means is that he needs to hold on through the storm of it.

"Zhao Yunlan?"

Hold on -

Unsteady hands are touching him, now, and they're cool - really cool, not burning freezing cold. Cool, and gentle, though they're shaking, and their touch wakes shuddering echoes of pain through his body, and -

"Zhao Yunlan? Zhao Yunlan!"

- and now he can let go.

[marycrawford]

In Dixing, tied to the pillar, Shen Wei can feel what’s going on with Zhao Yunlan. So what if Zhao Yunlan got hurt and Shen Wei is powerless to help him?

Maybe that is why, by the time the shadow creature shows up with the sword he sent away for Zhao Yunlan to find, he's ready to offer himself to the blade...

[yue_ix]

Wings, the kind that stay inside until they tear their way out.

[frith_in_thorns]

Zhao Yunlan is falling.

He tumbles through the air, wind rough against his skin, and the world spins around him, and his breath is a tight knot of terror.

this is it this is really it oh fuck —

The ground comes racing to swallow him up and he spots Shen Wei, cries out in an internal wail because he doesn't want Shen Wei to watch him die, no no no —

Then —

something. Sensation, ripping agony, a change of motion. A lurching swirl instead of a fall, spinning round like a sycamore seed, slowed and whirled, hitting the ground seconds later (an infinity of seconds later — he should already be dead) feet-first, knees-second, slamming into tarmac at a bloodying, bruising speed.

Not a lethal impact. Though it should have been.

He lifts his head, sees Shen Wei staring at him, stunned, feels such a strange sensation on his back. And pain, the wet slickness of blood trickling across his skin.

Feathers.

They are there when he turns his head stiffly. Wings — black, shining, glorious. On him. His breath catches and he stares, reaches a hand across his shoulder to touch them, feels the pull of pain where they ripped through his skin. "What…" he whispers.

"I'm sorry," Shen Wei says. Pleads. He has his hand outstretched, where his dark energy must have fluttered around his fingers, the same black as the feathers. "I — you were —"

Zhao Yunlan is still breathless. He flexes muscles he's never used before, but somehow he understands in this moment how to use them and his wings respond, spreading and then folding. "You did this?" he says.

Shen Wei nods. "I didn't — It was all I could — I don't know how to undo it —"

He reaches out a hand, hesitantly. Zhao Yunlan turns, feels Shen Wei's trembling fingers stroke the pinions, the bones. The skin on his back where his shirt must hang in shreds.

Shen Wei takes a harsh breath. "I'm sorry," he whispers, again.

Zhao Yunlan turns swiftly. Shen Wei's hand is streaked with blood. "No," he says. "Don't apologise."

"But," Shen Wei says, "I did this to you."

Zhao Yunlan opens his wings, carefully. There's strength coiled there, potential, wonder. He holds his breath, and tries to flap them. He's uncoordinated and although he lifts from the ground it's less flying and more flinging himself a few metres forward, a low arc. He turns back, does it again, barrels into Shen Wei who catches him, braces him, still shocked and wide-eyed.

"I guess I need practice," Zhao Yunlan says.

"Practice?" Shen Wei says. "Zhao Yunlan, I —"

"Wings," Zhao Yunlan says. "You gave me wings," and he folds them around him and Shen Wei, a laugh bubbling up through him, bright with joy.

[naye]

Chains.

[yue_ix]

*___*

[marycrawford]

I think it's because the weather has turned that I'm so fixated on the snow and ice thing...

What if someone loses control of their powers and starts freezing the whole city, people and all?

winter has come

[extrapenguin]

Zhao Yunlan paced at the SID.

Snowflakes pattered against the rime-covered windows. Guo Changcheng had dug out a thick down coat that made him look spherical and a ridiculous knit cap with a tuft thingy at the end; Da Qing was in cat form ensuring the inside of the coat was covered in an appropriate amount of cat hair.

The thing was, xiao-Guo might just have the right idea. All of Dragon City was covered by a blanket of snow after the temperatures had started plummeting last week. The higher-ups were on the SID's ass, convinced that it was a troublemaker from Dixing, the general populace was growing more and more worried about climate change bringing extreme weather, the meteorologists were crying, Zhao Yunlan's brain was frozen, and Shen Wei had gone to Dixing and not come back.

Burning the incense didn't give much warmth. Thus, he paced.

If this continued for much longer, the higher-ups had relayed to him, the pipes would freeze and burst. This would of course be contrary to everyone's interests, so Chief Zhao should do his best to make sure such events wouldn't transpire.

Zhao Yunlan had no leads whatsoever. "Fuck," he quietly whispered.

As if in reply to his pleas, the incense smoke flickered and a portal opened in the air. Shen Wei stumbled out, clad in his suit. "How has the weather been?" he urgently asked.

"Cold with a bit of snow," Zhao Yunlan said. He should get Shen Wei another jacket at least. "Hasn't changed since you left."

Shen Wei's face fell. His expression flickered through a myriad expressions before settling on internal pain. "It's me," he said.

"...causing the cold?"

Shen Wei nodded. "It's – I don't know how I lost control," he said, miserable. "I thought going to Dixing might help."

"Is Dixing also freezing?" Guo Changcheng asked.

"No," Shen Wei said.

So, a power malfunctioning and its wielder cooperative. "How does the power work precisely?" Zhao Yunlan asked.

"It's supposed to be me creating ice out of my own volition, which requres a high amount of alertness. Now..."

"Does it pause when you sleep? Drowse?"

"I don't think I can sleep, knowing Dragon City's plight is my fault," Shen Wei said. "Another of my powers is exchanging dark energy for alertness, so I cannot exhaust myself to dreamland, either."

Shen Wei, normally so very in control of it all, couldn't turn it off. He must be facing an existential crisis of some sort. Zhao Yunlan had a shudder of sympathetic terror.

"Do chemical means work on your biology? You know, chloroform, that sort of stuff."

"They should?" Shen Wei looked less despairing and more like himself. "I metabolize sugars and oxygen into carbon dioxide and water, and can consume human foods. It stands to reason pharmaceuticals would work as well."

"Okay, great." Zhao Yunlan turned to the lab. "Lin Jing! Do you have any chloroform or sleeping pills or something?"

Some indistinct yelling. A few minutes later, Lin Jing emerged with a vial of liquid, a clean cotton rag, and a sceptical expression. "We do have some chloroform. What are you going to use it for?"

"Brother Black has had trouble sleeping lately," Zhao Yunlan said. He opened the vial and poured some on the rag. Next to him, Guo Changcheng wanted to say something, but his teeth were chattering too strongly. "I thought we should help him with his problem."

"You know that doesn't work like in the movies? It takes a few minutes of inhaling, and you need constant dosing to keep someone under, and it doesn't even cause sleep proper-"

"It will suffice," Shen Wei said with finality. At his nod, Zhao Yunlan brought the rag to his nose.

It was odd to be pressing it against Shen Wei's airways. The periodic puffs of breath were warm against his hand. There was a certain intimacy to it, especially as Shen Wei had closed his eyes and leaned his face against Zhao Yunlan's hand.

"We'll fix this," Zhao Yunlan promised. The next exhalation was slightly heavier.

After some minutes, Shen Wei started to sway. Zhao Yunlan took hold of his head with his other hand and maneuvered them to the couch.

Snow no longer fell outdoors, and the frost receded from the windows. The temperature in the SID building rose several degrees.

The phone rang. Zhao Yunlan stayed put and let Wang Zheng answer it. That's why she was here, after all.

"Chief, the Haixing Inspectorate congratulates you for solving the problem," she reported.

Shen Wei's head was pillowed against Zhao Yunlan, airways supported, the chloroformed rag against his face. He looked peaceful in his slumber.

"Yeah," Zhao Yunlan said. "We'll solve the problem. Somehow."

[yue_ix]

Dragged away screaming.

[marycrawford]

Zhao Yunlan is the last one. The last one left, after the others — all his friends, all of his team — were dragged away screaming. And in some microscopic way, he can still feel some satisfaction that he is the last one, that nobody else was left alive to see this nightmare play out. That nobody else has to witness this.

Especially not Shen Wei. Shen Wei is safe, on the other side of time and space, locked away in a pocket of no-time that Ye Zun can’t access, and all the Holy Tools are there with him. They came to his hand when he called; they will hear him when he asks them for help, surely. Shen Wei will find a way to make time itself his ally, to undo this.

Zhao Yunlan just hopes that Shen Wei isn’t seeing any of this, that he hasn’t had to watch their teammates be devoured one by one while Ye Zun went through a whole arc of histrionic rage and came out the other side to a mirror-smooth calm. It’s the calm of an ocean that suddenly drops far below ebb, and Zhao Yunlan has no illusions. All he can do is play for time.

They’re sitting at a low table together, Ye Zun and he, in a poisonous parody of courtship, and the rice wine keeps appearing in front of him. The knives, the whips, the chains, those have all vanished, as have all of Zhao Yunlan’s wounds, though he can still feel them—the stage has been set for a different play, though he already knows the ending.

Zhao Yunlan drinks steadily, jug after jug, and even though he can’t seem to get drunk, his mind remains blank, empty. It has to. He can’t afford to let himself feel. When Shen Wei returns, when his team is recovered, then he will unlock his heart, but not now. He used to say that he didn’t have a heart, or that it was a cold ember. No heat, no fire. It might have been true, once, but maybe he’s always been a liar.

Ye Zun keeps giving him annoyed, petulant looks, like he expected more entertainment; he’s like a cat batting at a mouse that has stopped moving. “What does my brother see in you?” he asks, head on one side, gazing up coyly at Zhao Yunlan’s mouth. “I can’t imagine being attracted to someone like you.” He shudders delicately. “So unevolved. Frankly, it’s obscene.”

Zhao Yunlan drains another jug, tosses it away. “Is it?”

Ye Zun trails a hand over his arm, and Zhao Yunlan sets his teeth in his lower lip, doesn’t pull away. “No powers at all,” Ye Zun sighs. “A little foolish courage, and nothing else. What match could you ever be for my brother? It’s like seeing a man make a fool of his dog. Does he let you sleep on his bed? Does he give you treats when you’ve been good, does he keep your cage nice and clean?”

That hits closer to home than Ye Zun can possibly know. It’s a struggle to keep his gaze empty, to keep his body pliant and relaxed.

Ye Zun’s long fingers are just as beautiful as Shen Wei’s, but his nails are bitten, and the edges scratch Zhao Yunlan’s neck as Ye Zun casually wraps his hands around his throat. “A wide collar, perhaps, for my dog,” Ye Zun says thoughtfully. “One that shocks you if you’re insolent—not enough to kill you, just enough to shake your legs out from under you, leave you trembling on the floor…” He licks his lips, slowly, his pink tongue darting out. “I would like that, I think. Would you like that, Xiao Lan?”

Fingers press into his throat when he doesn’t answer, hard enough to cut off his air. “I’ve been so nice to you, and you’ve been nothing but rude and selfish,” Ye Zun complains. “I suppose it’s my brother’s fault for not training you properly. You don’t know the pleasures of obedience.”

Zhao Yunlan gasps for air when Ye Zun finally releases him, not because he wants to live, but because his body has ideas of its own: animal instincts for survival. Smiling, Ye Zun pours more rice wine into his cup, then sets the cup on the floor and gestures at it. “Would you like another drink, my pet?”

When Zhao Yunlan still doesn’t respond, Ye Zun kicks the table away, smashes the last jug of wine. The shard of pottery that remains in his hand is very sharp.

Zhao Yunlan already begged him for mercy, for an easy death for his friends; he has nothing left to beg for. He slouches on his elbows, staring up at Ye Zun with as much bored ease as he possibly can, and then past his shoulder.

It’s lightning fast, too fast for even Ye Zun to react — one moment Zhao Yunlan is staring at the way the air seems to be folding in on itself, and then a familiar hand reaches through and yanks him inside.

Displaced air, pressure — his ears pop — and he finds himself inside a field of stars.

Not that he has any attention left for the galaxies that spiral past. All he can see is Shen Wei, right there, holding on to him, his eyes wide and shockingly wet. “Zhao Yunlan—”

“This wasn’t the plan,” Zhao Yunlan says, speaking fast, before Shen Wei can start saying he’s sorry, because he can’t bear to hear that right now. “I was distracting him—you can’t leave him alone, he’s more dangerous when he has nobody to distract him—”

“Please,” Shen Wei says, gripping his shoulders, a careful gentle grip, as if he knows how many bruises and stab wounds still echo under Zhao Yunlan’s skin. “The Tools were asking for you — you can find a road back through time, I’m sure of it. You can find a solution, but I can’t—forgive me—” His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes for a moment, wetness spiking his eyelashes.

Zhao Yunlan stares at him. Fuck. “You were watching. Weren’t you.”

Shen Wei nods. “I’m not strong enough,” he says, his voice just a little ragged, which is like hearing someone else scream their throat raw. “I’m sorry. I know what we planned, but I can’t let him touch you— I can’t—”

Zhao Yunlan reaches out and strokes his hair, letting the silk strands slip through his fingers. Just because he can, and because he knows how much Shen Wei likes it. A simple caress, because that’s all his heart has room for, all that he can bear to feel. “You don’t always have to be the strong one,” he says. “Did I ever tell you that?”

Shen Wei nods, again. “You did.” He turns his head, lets his cheek rest against Zhao Yunlan’s hand. “You will.” His breath steadies, slows to a more familiar rhythm. “You always have.”

Zhao Yunlan keeps stroking his hair, stepping in closer and leaning his forehead against Shen Wei’s, breathing in sync. “I always have,” he says, very softly. “I always will.”

[extrapenguin]

Something (either the serum injection or excessive fondling of the Hallows) grants Zhao Yunlan a literal healing cock.

a literal healing cock

[xparrot]

Shen Wei was stretched out on the floor of the SID offices, unconscious, chalk-white and oh so frail, the blood he'd coughed as he collapsed pooling by his head. The SID all stared down at him in grief and pity. "Lao-Zhao?" Da Qing finally said. "What do we do?"

Zhao Yunlan's expression was rigid, tightly controlled but for the tooth-cracking clench of his jaw. He didn't even seem to hear Da Qing at first. Then, suddenly, he sprang up and dashed to the lab. Before Lin Jing could stop him, he had lifted the lids from the Hallows, was activating them. Their glow brightened until it was blinding, obscuring what was happening, and within that brilliance Zhao Yunlan whispered, "Please--please--"

There was silence. Then Zhao Yunlan emerged from the lab, leaning exhaustedly against the doorframe, a couple shallow bleeding scratches down his cheek, and holding in his hands his--

His--

The members of the SID all gaped in silence as Zhao Yunlan crossed the office floor to Shen Wei, knelt beside him murmuring, "Hey, Xiao-Wei, it's going to be okay"--

And carefully placed the large rooster he was holding on Shen Wei's chest.

It was golden, like the Hallows, with a long fancy tail and a bright red coxcomb. The bird clucked angrily as Zhao Yunlan held it down with one hand flattened over its wings. "Come on," he murmured to it.

"Uh...Lao-Zhao?" Zhu Hong dared. "What's with the..."

Zhao Yunlan ignored him. He was crooning to the chicken, "Come on, you birdbrain--there you go, you're so good at this, you just need to..." Under his hand, the rooster had started glowing slightly. "Yeah, that's it," Zhao Yunlan said, giving it a pat. "Come on--Yes! You're doing it!"

The rooster's glow brightened to starfire. It crowed a startlingly loud "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!"

Then it settled with a tired clucking. Zhao Yunlan lifted the chicken off Shen Wei's chest, tucked it under his arm with a soothing pet of its feathers. "Good bird."

Shen Wei, color miraculously back in his face, sat up. He touched his uninjured chest in surprise, blinked up at the flabbergasted faces of the SID team, then looked over. "Zhao Yunlan? What...what happened? What did you...?"

Zhao Yunlan grinned at him and gave the rooster another pat. "It's my healing cock," he said. "It's got a praise kink."

Shen Wei accidentally (or not) ingests poison meant for Zhao Yunlan

[shadowlancer_95]

Prompt: Shen Wei accidentally (or not) ingests poison meant for Zhao Yunlan

(First time using dreamwidth here, so sorry for any mistakes)

Shen Wei basically drinking/eating something meant for ZYL and getting poisoned as a result! Can be accidental or not depending on level of hurt wanted!

Re: Shen Wei accidentally (or not) ingests poison meant for Zhao Yunlan

[xparrot]

No mistakes, and this was a great prompt, inspiration hit fast. It got long enough that I just went ahead and posted it on AO3!

Shen Wei is presumed dead

[shadowlancer_95]

Prompt: Shen Wei is presumed dead - maybe there's some proof of his supposed demise, or ZYL witnesses what looks like a fatal blow or anything really - so what does ZYL do/how does he react? Shen Wei isn't really dead, but maybe he's seriously injured and so can't immediately return to ZYL's side.

(I thought of this while listening to Just Cared Too Much so forgive the angst XD)