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 |
no subject
[But it's different now that marriage is on the horizon. Everything takes on a new weight now. Huaisang might very well like Lotus Pier as a place to visit, but if he's to eventually become master of it, well. That's different. He has to truly love at least pieces of it, or he'll grow to resent it. And it won't be long before he in turn resents Jiang Cheng for trapping him here, but by then it will be too late, and they'll both be miserable and stuck, and--
And he exhales, slowly but steadily, and nips gently the side of Huaisang's neck just to hear him react.
He'd watched his parents resent each other their whole lives. He can't-- physically cannot-- go through the same thing with his own spouse. But this is only a few hours old, and for once, he wants to be irresponsible.
Tomorrow he'll think of his anxieties. Tomorrow he'll panic about the thousand and one ways it could go wrong; tomorrow he might even tell Huaisang some of those fears. But tonight is for them.
So: he lets it be about them. He rises up, kneeling before his crush-turned-boyfriend-turned-fiancé so he can lean in and kiss him, again and again. He ends up with Huaisang in his lap, which is frankly fantastic, and though they do nothing more than kiss, it's still quite a bit. It's still overwhelming, and long after they're done, he lies in the dark and thinks about his hands on Huaisang's hips, his cheeks all flushed and his eyes glittering, his voice so low as he spoke (and how fast little whines of his name had turned into something more demanding, and how Jiang Cheng had loved that, too).
He's terribly distracted all the next morning, gaze always drifting away, his fingers idly tapping at his mouth. No one notices, surely. Just as they don't notice the way Jiang Cheng leaps to his feet the moment Huaisang shows up, like an overeager dog tripping over its own feet in its excitement. He covers for it immediately, naturally, no one notices, but still.
A few nights pass the same way: hungry kisses and soft words, and the really remarkable thing is how easy it is. How natural spending time with Huaisang is. They settle into an easy rhythm, comfortable enough to let silence fall between them at times, knowing each other well enough not to be in that uncomfortable stage where they can't leave one another alone at times.
It's nearly a week later that he wakes in the middle of the night. Not due to screams, which is his first half-asleep panicked thought, nor the smell of burnt corpses and ash. No, instead: quiet whimpers, soft but undeniable, just loud enough to wake him. Huaisang is faced away from him, curled up tight onto himself. There's only a few inches between them, but still, his hand hesitates before he grips his arm firmly.]
A-Sang . . .
[Soft, first. That's how you wake someone from a nightmare, right? Softly? Ah, but there's another whimper, and those strike at his heart in a way he despises. Nothing should make Huaisang make that noise, even himself, so--]
A-Sang!
[Ah. Too loud. Fuck.]
no subject
And yes, there are anxieties. There are fears. Jiang Cheng has more than Huaisang does, after everything, but he listens to Jiang Cheng's quiet murmuring in the dark, hands in his hair and on his back, soothing and present. Neither of them are completely capable people for one reason or another, especially in this, but to love Jiang Cheng is straightforward. He's done it for ages; the messy frustrations can't turn him away now.
So it's strange and wonderful and idyllic, to be here at Lotus Pier. Huaisang could get used to spending every evening in Jiang Cheng's arms, gentle affection becoming more and more heated until one of them is too dizzy with it to go on. It's nice.
And so, naturally, they were due for a bad evening sooner or later. There's no telling what spurs Huaisang's dreams into nightmares; stories the disciples tell in the courtyard, of battle? Cultivators on the fringes of Yunmeng territory arriving run ragged and scared, to report a group of bandits whose filthy robes looked suspiciously like some Wens who'd gotten away? Huaisang wouldn't know; he takes in grim news in the daylight and watches Jiang Cheng, more worried over him than himself.
But in his dreams the battle they'd been in together creeps in, screams and death and blood, and Huaisang is alone this time, and each time he calls out for Jiang Cheng the smoke and stench choke him more and more. He trips over a corpse and falls into hell without any ceremony, elbow-deep in mud and viscera with nothing in his ears but the clash of sabers again and again and again. Something possesses him to crawl through heat and death and over body after body and then Mingjue is there, Mingjue is there and when he reaches out a hand to Huaisang he spits blood and falls to his knees, there's blood on Huaisang's face, and— and—
And he jerks awake but not really, wild-eyed and twisting around when he finally feels that something has grabbed him. For a moment his gaze is elsewhere, eyes open but not seeing until the firm grip on his arm drags him out of the depths.
He blinks. He blinks again and crumbles, breathing hard and shallow, curling into himself again as he reaches out slowly to grip the front of Jiang Cheng's robe, white-knuckled and trembling.
Give him a minute. The whole house heard that, by the way, but give him a minute.]
no subject
In an instant he's wrapped his arms around him, gathering him in close, shifting only so he can put his own back to the door instead of Huaisang's. God only knows what the nightmare was about, bandits or soldiers or ghosts, but in some ways, it doesn't matter. I'm here, I'll keep you safe, that's all that truly means.]
It's okay. It's okay, you're okay.
[It's whispered a touch harshly, his heart is thudding hard in his chest, that cry still echoing in his ears.]
I'm here. I'm here, nothing will hurt you. Nothing will touch you. It's okay . . .
no subject
When he can breathe again he lets go of Jiang Cheng's robe to wind his arm around him and press himself even closer into the embrace. He's here, this is Lotus Pier, the battlefield is far, far away... And so is Mingjue, but one thing at a time.]
Ah... I'm relying on A-Cheng to protect me again.
[It's whispered, and more a thanks than anything else. Jiang Cheng is here, solid and whole, safe.]
no subject
[Emotion embarrasses him, but this kind of fierce protection comes as easy as anything. One palm spreads flat against Huaisang's back, gently massaging, while the other slides up through his hair.]
Just breathe, now. There's nothing you need to fear.
no subject
Keep doing that, [is what he says, for-- everything. Keep touching him, keep holding him, keep saying these things. He's quiet for a long moment while his heartbeat settles, soothed by the weight of Jiang Cheng's whole presence.
So. Okay. No one has demanded he explain anything at all, but,] It was the battlefield. I was alone there...
no subject
Were you hurt?
[His fingers stroke through his hair, his head tipping forward so he can nose against the top of his head. He might hesitate to ask on other nights, but given Huaisang could not be clearer in his desire to talk about this, it's fine.]
no subject
[He got dirty! Gross! The sheer terror of it hovers at the back of his mind, far enough away for him to talk about in peace. Mm.]
I couldn't find you.
no subject
And then what?
[He hesitates, thinks of something to say, and then shakes his head. Reassurances can come later, once he knows the entirety of Huaisang's dream.]
Did you end up finding me?
[Dead? Is that what he thinks is going to happen next? Yes he does.]
no subject
Not you— it... My brother was there.
[Can the blanks fill themselves in, here... Is he spared this arduous task...]
no subject
[Yes, he can connect those dots, thank god. He's silent for a time, his fingers gliding gently against the line of Huaisang's spine.]
I used to have dreams like that. Right after Wei Ying returned.
[He doesn't have much to say in order to soothe. It's a fact they live in a violent world; it's also a fact that the Nie line is doomed to suffer from qi deviation. He can't tell Huaisang that it might never happen. He can't even assure him that Nie Mingjue is safe now.
But at least he can offer that: a point of solidarity, no matter how grim.]
He's strong, A-Sang. If danger approaches, he'll fight to stay alive every step of the way.
no subject
Well. A person can't live like that, not really. Huaisang is happy here at Lotus Pier, so— so in the morning he'll write, and it will take days to run letters back and forth, but he'll feel better for writing at all. That will do.]
You had dreams like that? [He sort of figured, so if anything, it's an invitation to speak-- and,] Do they stop?
no subject
[These nightmares are a secret that Huaisang will have to keep, but he trusts him.]
I dreamed about . . .
[Oh, wait, but see: he'd had nightmares about Wei Wuxian, sure, but they were all always tangled up in the horrors of being taken by the Wens and having his core melted. That's not something he's told Huaisang about; it's humiliating enough as it is, no matter that he got it back.
So, hm, a slightly edited version.]
I dreamed of him burning. Over and over, a hundred different ways. And all the while, I'd watch. And no matter how I tried, I couldn't help him.
[It's less melancholic and more matter-of-fact. Wei Wuxian is alive and well, and though he brings a whole host of anxieties, at least Jiang Cheng isn't constantly terrified he'll die.]
They go away. It just . . . it takes a while. You just . . . have to get used to them being safe again.
no subject
So, that's... that? That's Huaisang lapsing into silence for a bit, before he shifts to pull back and look up at Jiang Cheng. Hey.]
Do you want to talk about it? [Has... has anyone talked to Jiang Cheng about his bad dreams before?? Hmm.]
no subject
[He frowns down at him, then shrugs sharply, glancing away. There's a phantom ache in the center of his chest, and he's always a little aware of the scars that mar his skin. Someday he'll have to show them to Huaisang, but not yet, not yet.
His fingers slide through his hair, smoothing it back. Does he want to talk about it? If he's to speak of it to anyone, it ought to be to his future partner, but . . .]
They're not every night. And when they come, they're what you'd expect. About the war.
[. . .]
About you in the war.