Multifandom oneshots

06 ✁ [xicheng] bad dream

I recently started watching Mo Dao Zu Shi/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, and I gotta tell y'all... I LOVE IT SO MUCH KAJFGJSHBVJS ;_;

Also this is mainly based on the donghua and live-action (up to ep17), not the novel since I haven't read it yet ;w; But I finished the donghua in like a day sooo some details might be slightly incorrect xP

Prompt 6: "Please don't do this."

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing(s): XiCheng (Lan Xichen/Jiang Cheng) (bruh everyone be shipping XiYao but right now XiCheng is my mfkin R E L I G I O N)

Tags & warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

✁ — — —

Please don't do this.

The cold, rough wood of the boat Mother pushed him into. The scent of her hair as she embraced him, one last time. The sadness in her eyes as she turned back to Lotus Pier, engulfed in flames.

Please don't do this.

The dull sting of Zidian on his skin when it finally released him. The nausea bubbling up in his stomach as he raced back toward his home. The horror when he saw what it had become.

Please don't do this.

The sharp smell of blood, completely drowning out the lotus flowers. Smoke rising from the burning wood and flesh. Wei Wuxian's hand, clamped on top of his mouth, moments before they plunged into the water.

Jiang Wanyin's eyes snap open. He can't breathe. Everything is pitch-black. Where is he? His clothes are soaked as if someone has just dumped a bucket of water on him. Clothes? A blanket? Is this a dream? He can't see. He sits up and feels around with his cold, trembling hands until they find something other than fabric. What? What is this? It's warm still, and his fingers run through something soft like hair. A person?

Lan Xichen.

No. No. No. Wanyin's breathing quickens as he pushes everything aside, sheets, clothes, hair, hair as dark and slippery as silk, as blood. "Xichen? Xichen, wake up. Wake up. Lan Huan, wake up." He didn't stop — couldn't stop — until he feels a pair of hands grab hold of his own:

"Mmn... Jiang Cheng?"

"Lan Huan?"

"Yeah, I'm here. What's wrong?"

Wanyin immediately throws his arms around Xichen and squeezes, hard. The older male makes a sound as if all the air has been knocked out of his lungs, but Wanyin barely pays it any mind. He just needs to feel him, here, now, to make sure he's alive, to make sure this is real, to make sure he hasn't lost one of the only two people he still cares about in this world. He's shaking so bad he can't even feel Xichen sitting up, and the sound of his own breathing (gasping, more like) makes it impossible to hear what the other man is saying. He hates it, hates being so weak, so dependent, so undeserving, but his head is spinning and there is a lump in his throat he can't swallow.

He feels Xichen move, pulling his arms out from the tight embrace. Intense fear surges up inside Wanyin as he thinks of the possibility of being pushed away, but Xichen only sighed before bending down and returning the hug. His fingers trail along Wanyin's tensed back, run through his messy dark hair, massaging, caressing and detangling until Wanyin's fear is all but gone. Feeling the younger male's grip around him relax a little, Xichen sneaks a hand underneath his chin and lifts his face up. From the faint moonlight coming in through the window, he can see the tears still threatening to fall from those beautiful gray eyes.

"Jiang Cheng, are you alright?" He asks patiently. Wanyin looks at him for a moment, then lowers his head as if he's embarrassed. Having none of it, Xichen cups the younger male's face in his hands and brings it up again, feeling the damp skin against his palms. "Talk to me."

He anticipated Wanyin's hand pulling down his own, then him moving his face out of his grasp. He lets it happen – he knows Wanyin doesn't enjoy being coddled, although he desperately needs it sometimes. Xichen waits, listens to the other man's slowing breaths, feels the weight of his fingers as they interlace with his own, shyly, uncertainly, as if he is afraid Xichen will pull away. At long last, Wanyin mutters, his voice hoarse:

"Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Xichen squeezes Wanyin's hand, a relieved smile on his face. The younger male sighs contemplatively, before replying:

"Not much to talk about."

"You seemed scared."

"... I was."

"May I ask why?"

"... Where's Jin Ling?" Wanyin abruptly changes the subject, but that's already enough to answer Xichen's question. The older male smiles:

"In his room, with Fairy and guards close-by."

"And us?"

"In your room, at Yunmeng's Lotus Pier."

Wanyin is silent for a moment, before looking up at Xichen, eyes bloodshot and exhausted but at least no longer afraid. He leans in, and the older man obliges, their lips meeting in a slow, soft kiss. Wanyin's breath is still hot on his skin when he pulls away, then lies down onto their shared bed. Xichen does not miss the hint of color creeping onto those pale cheeks, the purple glint of Zidian lying dormant on Wanyin's right index finger, or the watchfulness of those gray eyes as he himself settles down. He lets it all happen. He knows what Wanyin dreams about, what he is scared of, what made the leader of Yunmeng Jiang Sect the harsh, unforgiving man he is today. And so he moves in closer and kisses him once more, feeling the silent gratitude as the younger male shuts his eyes and curls up tighter against his chest.

"Good night, Jiang Cheng."

"Good night, Lan Huan."