#general chen

[kassylin]

There are three OTPs for me.

General Ling and the Emperor

XDDDDDDDDDDDDD

General Ling and Shaoshan lol They’re not even together, but they’re having so much fun.

Shaoshan and general Chen XDDD My number one of all times XDDDDD

[shyabanshi]

General pls let wang zhi ride with you his horse IS GONE

[khazadspoon]

Tumblr is a bully to me, I never succeed comment a post either. Prompt: general chen / wang zhi, healing

I will answer this while out walking so it doesn’t disappear!

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He wears thick furs over his usual attire to keep the cold at bay. It nips at his fingers, creeps into his boots and makes his nose run, but none of these things are for anyone but himself to know. Wang Zhi is, after all, the representative of His Imperial Majesty and nothing should be allowed to sully that, not even the bitter elements of the world. So he steels himself against the cold let’s none of its effects show. At his side up on the battlements, General Chen cuts a striking and noble figure - he does not flinch from the cold, nor the height, his stern but handsome features giving nothing away.

The only change in his expression comes when Wang Zhi cuts his finger on a ragged edge of stone. The sting is instantaneous. He hisses, a sharp sound sucked in through his teeth, and General Chen frowns. He moves, the full height and breadth of him hiding Wang Zhi from any prying eyes, and takes his wounded hand. Without a sound he raises it to his lips and inspects the wound. His brow furrows and Wang Zhi watches in a silent mix of horror, delight, exhilaration and desire as the general places his lips over the shallow cut.

The sensation of his finger between warm lips, of light suction, is beyond any he has ever really known. His heart pounds as he watches and he feels an ache somewhere low in his stomach. Warmth seems to flood him as the General’s bright onyx eyes flick to his own and hold his gaze. He licks, the flat of his tongue somewhat silky as it soothes Wang Zhi’s skin, the dull sting faded now, and that warmth becomes heat.

“Even a small wound can cost a man his hand,” General Chen says under his breath, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder. Wang Zhi nods numbly and wonders if he has lost his mind. His hand remains captured, held secure in the General’s own gloved one. “We should get you a pair of gloves. They will keep your hands warm as well as protect them. I will see it done if you will permit me.”

Wang Zhi nods and let’s his hand fall slowly to his side. He presses his thumb to the cut, wills it to bleed if only to have the General’s eyes on him again. How curious, he thinks, to be looked at with concern instead of disdain. To be touched gently, almost reverently, instead of ignored and cast aside. The General moves back to the side and talks to him of provisions. Wang Zhi presses the cut and replies, mind split between his duty to his Emperor and the warmth now flowing through him like hot metal.

[khazadspoon]

Can I.... Actually request general chen/wang zhi, pay back?

I had almost lost this but opened it on my phone so I can do it!!!

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The night is just as cold inside as outside on a clear night. Wang Zhi wraps his furs around himself and waits, sure that his companion for the evening will join him sooner rather than later. He tries to tell himself it is only an act of revenge, pay back for the display on the battlements the day before. Tries to tell himself it doesn't matter that he feels something different in his chest at the prospect instead of the usual subtle delight at a game well played. He tells himself the raised eyebrow from Ding Rong (a small shift in his expression, one only shared with Wang Zhi) is inconsequential. But it isn't. He is lying to himself and he cannot bring himself to care. The outcome of this petty act will be his alone to bear.

He sits quietly, hands kept warm by the cup of tea he is holding, and tries to ignore the nerves in his stomach. They flutter like butterflies and each sound that coil be the General makes his heart rate pick up. The General does walk in a moment later, and the expression on his face shifts from dull resignation to soft surprise. Wang Zhi watches his eyes widen, sees a quirk of his lips and invites him to sit with an outstretched hand. With his other hand he tows with the small knife kept on his person at all times. “Please sit,” he invites, gesturing next to him.

The General bows slightly before sitting. Their knees touch, and Wang Zhi swallows the smile that threatens to bloom on his lips as they do. He shivers instead. When the General is settled, Wang Zhi stands and circles behind him, pours tea, feels the shape of the General even though they are not touching. He considers the knife and the plan he had formed only moments before sitting down - to take the man's hand, to cut his thumb and repeat his words back to him, “even a small wound can cost a man his hand.”

Instead he sits facing the General, his posture demure and almost genteel as he presses the cup into his hands. Instead, he says: “I had considered taking revenge on you for your actions yesterday. I wanted to cut your thumb, watch you squirm, but I decided not to,” he plucks the blade from his sleeve and fingers it gently. “You shocked me, General Chen. Not many men shock me and survive.”

The General watches him closely as the knife is placed on the table between them. “The fact I am still alive shows you were not offended,” He smiles, small and quiet, and Wang Zhi smiles back. The smile turns to shock as the General picks up the knife and flicks it across his thumb. Red blooms, small but vibrant. It is a small cut and a superficial one, but Wang Zhi takes the meaning. He lifts General Chen's thumb to his lips and kisses the blood away, frowns at the taste but takes secret delight in the hitch in the General's breath. Their eyes meet and he feels the shiver pass between them.

“Not offended, General, but intrigued.”