laura (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
appliances) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dumbshow2018-11-24 10:16 pm
appliances) wrote in dumbshow2018-11-24 10:16 pm
highly new, slightly improved open post
assorted morons
optional prompts/ideas
☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FUCC: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen |
it's the nhs/mxy one
No, not exactly— the violent death of his older brother, that was worse, but when one thing is so inextricably linked to another, the judgment call is hard to make. It depends, Huaisang thinks, on the day; some days he's sluggish under the weight of his sect, his new responsibilities, the things he has to do now that he's never had to do before and, indeed, never intended to do either. And other days he's beset by grief over his brother, by regretting his own behavior those few days prior, by a dull and muted sadness that hangs over him and seems to block out the rest of the world regardless of what he does or doesn't do.
And other times that emotion tinges sharply darker, a hot and bitter resentment that coils in his stomach and pricks at the back of his mind, but the Qinghe Nie sect leaders have always had tempers. No one has given him a second look long enough to wonder about the occasional coldness in his gaze, and he has no complaints.
Still. Being at home is stressful and being in Gusu Lan is worse, the way they bind themselves so rigidly to their rules and still each one of them seems to affect a flowing, relaxed nature Huaisang could never master in school. It's uncomfortable to be there and feel even more bumbling and imperfect than his reputation makes him out to be. The only place left to him to waste his days in is Lanling Jin's Carp Tower, which. Well.
At least it's busy. Much more coming and going, guests, revelry, meetings, fine dining, cultivation studies— being on top of the cultivation world gives Lanling Jin sect's central hub a lot of business to attend to all the time, and Huaisang takes brief comfort in the fact that the business here isn't his. He does what he needs to do, affects a helpless whine and clings to Jin Guangyao's sleeve until he's affectionately ushered away to look at a garden or a painting or something, and then he is left to his own devices. Sometimes he does while away an afternoon in the gardens or admire a painting or two; sometimes he "gets lost" in places he shouldn't and makes himself nearly weep when a young Jin disciple finds him "wandering"; sometimes he reads, or watches the disciples at their practice.
Eventually, no one pays him any mind. Huaisang drifts through Lanling Jin as if in a bubble, shielded from anyone's pressing concern by his own reputation. It's easier; it's quieter.
Today, he's in a garden, and he's looking at clouds with his ornate fan held up to shield his eyes from the sun. He'd been watching the disciples at their lessons but that had gotten just as dread-inducing as his own school days and so he'd left, making his way here to stand just outside of the dappled shade of a nearby tree and look at the sky. It is... also somewhat boring, but unlike all else that's happened to him since his older brother died, it's a simple thing he chose for himself.
A noise behind him makes him turn, only to spot... a lone Jin disciple? Well, alright—]
Ah- hello? Are lessons over for the afternoon? [He cranes his neck to peer back inside as he asks, but no, lessons are not over. He knows this.] If you young disciples are going to play in this garden, I could go...
[That Nie Huaisang, his critics will say of him, stepping aside for some young nobodies, even though he's a sect leader! How could he behave like that? Huaisang drops his fan from shielding his face and holds it in both hands, like he'd wring it nervously if it weren't so expensive. Oh No What Does He Do?]
Pretend this is mxy 'cause I'm too lazy to make a new account.
For the most part, he blends in. He doesn’t show much promise – perhaps he began learning too late – but even so, he likes being here. Even if people don’t take notice of him. After so much abuse in the village, being overlooked is wonderful. Xuanyu no longer frets over his every glance or word. Perhaps because he has so little potential, no one minds him skipping lessons. Or maybe no one notices. Either is fine with him. Being noticed usually brings trouble.
Like Huaisang, he wanders, getting lost in all the many places to explore. There really is so much to admire in the Lanling Jin sect’s territory and Xuanyu is easily moved by the way the sunlight flashes off the leaves and illuminates the flowers. Glistening koi ponds enthral him. He’s easily distracted and rarely missed.
But his half-brother is attentive. He notices and urges Xuanyu to his studies, sometimes even helping him study after a missed lesson. It’s very sweet of Jin Guangyao to take such pains, but he’s like that with everyone. Always smiling, always polite, always attentive. For example, had it been he who ran across Huaisang, he would’ve recalled seeing him before and all the details of their conversation. Xuanyu barely remembers his name and only vaguely thinks the young man familiar.
Familiar or not, he made a pretty sight with the play of light and shadow under the tree and the beautiful fan shielding his eyes. The colours of his clothes tell Xuanyu he’s not part of this sect, but he can’t recall whose colours they are. ]
No.
[ No, lessons aren’t over. No, no one is coming to play. No, you don’t have to leave. He takes a hesitant step closer and gestures toward the fan. ]
I was just admiring that.
tenderly holds his sameface
It does, however, lead into his second conclusion, drawn when Mo-something-or-other steps toward him and just speaks to him, without decorating his words in Sect-Leader-this and Huaisang-xiong-that: this young man has no idea who he is. Or at least he doesn't really care.
Someone else might have been bothered; Mingjue certainly would have bristled at the mere thought of a Jin disciple approaching him so casually, but Huaisang is... almost relieved. It's been so long since he's had a conversation that's only a conversation, without politics and reputations mixed in.
So— he glances down at the fan, up at Xuanyu, and repeat; then he opens the fan again and holds it out for him to have a better look.]
Ah— here.
[A Sect Leader letting disciples play with his expensive accessories— he can feel his brother turn in his grave, but the young master Mo- Huaisang is certain no one actually calls him that- has a captivating gaze, and he finds himself suddenly dreading the weight of his own loneliness. So: here.]
Why don't you come join me out of the sun?
bless
He doesn’t fit in well here, but he isn’t mistreated. Half of the reason is likely due his lack of knowledge of how to behave toward certain people of higher status. He honestly doesn’t know who half of them are. Why should he? He’s nobody. There’s no great talent or ambition in him to speak of, so what reason would he ever have to interact with such luminaries?
So, yes, he had no idea the pretty person with the pretty fan was anyone important, let alone the leader of the QingheNie sect.
Upon seeing the fan held out, Xuanyu steps closer, bending down to take a closer look at the details he admired from afar. It’s much finer than anything he’s seen. Then again, that could be said of everything in Carp Tower. Another reason he didn’t fit in here: he was like the rural cousin who didn’t know or understand how to exist in the more bustling environment of more settled areas.
His expression brightens, lips forming a silent ‘ah’ in delight at what he sees. So much joy in such a small thing. It takes a moment for Xuanyu to realize he’s being spoken to. Blinking up at Huaisang, Xuanyu points to himself as though he were unsure. ]
You don’t mind?
crawls to this beautiful thread
Well, this: the fan, and the sunlight, and the inviting cool of the shade beneath this tree. He watches Xuanyu with a kind of bemusement, quiet for a moment like saying anything too suddenly would break the spell the sun and the shadow and the fan have over this moment.
Ah—]
Oh- no, no! It would be nice to have company.
[Just hang out with him, pretty mystery Mo.]
no subject
And it’s always wonderful to sit beside a handsome stranger.
Almost as quickly as his trepidation turned to excitement, he steps into the shade, all bright smiles and glistening eyes. It takes very little kindness to make Xuanyu happy. He’s a bit romantic at heart, thinking what a lovely scene this would be if it were a painting. Two people sitting under the shadow of a tree in all this breath-taking scenery.
Xuanyu settles in the grass, peering up into the leaves swaying with the soft breeze. Very pretty, indeed. ]
Did you paint it yourself? The fan?
90 years later, me
Well, this boy has nothing to worry about when it comes to Huaisang. He won't make overtures to bully him into being at ease, please, that's the oppressive half-friendliness of every Discussion Conference; instead, they can just be here, under the tree, Xuanyu's dark hair framing his face just so in the breeze. Hmm.]
Oh- no, not this one. I bought it last month, to... [make himself feel better about his dead brother, who hated his fans, well--] to match my robes. I left the ones I painted back in my room, ah- sorry, this sort of thing is unbecoming, or so I'm told...
No worries. I'm the slowest of the slow, friend.
[ Xuanyu tilts his head slightly, a sour look flickering quickly over his features. It’s a word he’s heard a lot in his life. Mostly before he came here. At least here, people only whisper behind his back and ignore him if they have no good reason to interact with him. Ah, but that look is fleeting, almost immediately replaced by a friendly smile. ]
I think it’s wonderful! How is painting fans any different from practicing calligraphy? Both take patience and skill to turn something boring into something beautiful. Isn’t that so?