#xie lian drabble

[niki-phoria]

I'D GIVE YOU ALL THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE

pairing: xie lian x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/comfort word count: 472

notes: tgcf has taken over my mind so enjoy some (possibly ooc ??) xie lian nightmare comfort lol, set at puqi shrine before xie lian meets hua cheng, title from the 1975 - i couldn't be more in love

your body jolts upright as you’re forcibly ripped out of your dream. you can feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest. shivers run down your spine as you blink a few times, desperately willing your eyes to adjust to the darkness quicker. 

in your disorientation, you quickly scan the room for any danger. the fabric xie lian had hung up as a makeshift door flaps quietly in the wind. a few stray offerings sit on the edge of a nearby table. a stream of moonlight shines in through a small hole in the roof, illuminating the small shrine just enough for you to make out xie lian’s worried figure staring at you. 

“y/n?” his voice is quiet, as if you’re a small animal that will bolt at the first sight of danger. xie lian pauses for a second as if to search for the right words before finally settling on, “are you alright?”

“yeah,” you breathe. you run a shaky hand through your hair, taking a shallow breath. “i’m fine.”

xie lian doesn’t believe you. he’s smart enough to recognize the signs of anxiety. he’s known you for long enough to know exactly which nightmares plague your dreams. even the exhaustion of traveling for hours on foot isn’t enough to starve off the horrors that live inside of your mind. 

xie lian turns, reaching over to grab his boots. “why don’t i go get you some water? it’s been a while since you had anything to drink.” 

“wait,” your hand catches xie lian’s wrist before you can stop yourself. disguised by the darkness of the night, a flush rises to both of your cheeks. your grip around his hand loosens, but you don’t pull away completely. “stay?” your voice is barely a whisper; it’s all but swallowed by the quiet of the night. “please.”

xie lian’s gaze lingers on your hand for a second before he looks up into your eyes once again. your touch ignites goosebumps along his skin. since the fall of xianle, he had long since forgotten what it felt like to be touched with care. 

despite his reservations, xie lian curtly nods. “alright,” he murmurs, settling down on the straw mat beside you once again. 

the ground is uncomfortable, but it’s nothing you’re not used to. xie lian lays facing you; even with your eyes closed you can feel him studying each of your features. you can feel the mat move slightly as he shuffles closer. he props his head against his arm like a makeshift pillow.

you tense momentarily when xie lian reaches over, gingerly resting his hand on top of your own. despite the cold night, his skin is warm. his fingers gently trace along the grooves of your knuckles. “try to get some sleep,” he whispers. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

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[muqingfx]

can you write mu qing being nursed back to health against his wishes please. he would never admit it even if it meant dying (cough.. mt tonglu lava scene.. cough) so it's what he deserves

anon didnt specify for ships, so i did what any normal person would do. four of them. whether its platonic or romantic is totally up to you!

"Let. Me," Mu Qing struggles against Xie Lian's vice-like grip with gritted teeth "go." He swings his fist to land a blow on his friend's jaw in an attempt to break free, but his punch is deterred by yet another nuisance.

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing hisses, vision still blurry. If it weren't for Xie Lian’s hold on him, Mu Qing would have shamefully collapsed head-first into the dirt.

“Mu Qing,” he hears Xie Lian say softly, “you just need some rest.”

“You don't get to strangle me!” Mu Qing retaliates, kicking and screaming like a child.

From beside him, he hears Feng Xin click his tongue. “We’re not fucking strangling you. And if you weren't so fucking difficult–”

“Just leave me alone!” Mu Qing finally manages to shove them both away. Are his eyes playing tricks on him again or is he swaying on his feet? “Why can't you just… let me be?” he catches himself asking before tumbling to the ground.

“Bloody rascal, how on earth did this happen?”

“I think they used a spell to weaken his body. His spiritual powers are still depleted–if might take a while for it to rise up again on it’s own, San Lang.”

“Then, what does gege suggest we do?”

Mu Qing winces when something wet presses against his abdomen. His eyes flutter open, yet all he sees is solid darkness.

“He’s waking up!” he hears Feng Xin say. “Mu Qing, can you hear me.”

Of course I can hear your, oaf, is what Mu Qing tries to say, but his voice catches at his throat.

A cold palm presses against his forehead and Mu Qing wants nothing more than to slap it off.

“He’s burning up.” Hua Cheng. The hand moves further down his face, fingertips brushing against his eyelids. There’s a brief moment of utter vulnerability, as if Mu Qing is giving up his soul for another. But then his vision clears, and he sees three very different expressions on familiar faces.

Xie Lian’s temple is creased, his mouth downturned as he stares at Mu Qing’s face. And upon glancing down, he sees Xie Lian’s hand squeezing his own. A face of unhidden concern; pity. Something dark brews inside as he processes that–being a damsel in distress, the General of the Southwest. Ridiculous.

Feng Xin is kneeling on the mat beside him, a damp cloth in his hand. His thick brows are furrowed as he scowls at Mu Qing. Strands of brunette hair fall over his face, his usually somewhat-neat bun now undone. He looks tired, annoyed. At Mu Qing. For what, wasting his time? For being so infirm and demanding attention? Nobody asked him to take care of Mu Qing, that imbecile.

And then there's the beast of a man, Hua Cheng. Hands folded across his chest, he looks as nonchalant as ever. His eyes sear into Mu Qing, bored and degrading.

Mu Qing feels the headache he had woken up with aggravate.

“Why am I being gawked at like some pathetic critter?” It comes out coarse and rough, his throat still aching and sore.

“Pathetic, indeed,” Hua Cheng sneers.

A knot tightens in his gut, the humiliation finally settling in. Gathering the strength to do so, Mu Qing lifts himself so his elbows support his weight. A sharp pain surges through him and both Xie Lian and Feng Xin scramble to grasp his arms, preventing the demeaning fall.

“Careful, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian chides. His fingers dig into Mu Qing’s skin–wait, where are his clothes?!

As if reading his mind, Feng Xin says, “Your clothes are ruined. Covered in fucking blood. We took it off so we could dress your wounds. Which are fucking bad, by the way.”

“Fuck you guys, that doesn't mean you can strip me of my robes. I’m not a doll.”

He feels Xie Lian’s hold on him weaken, a flicker of hurt passing through his eyes–did Mu Qing go too far?

“I don't mean–I… that's not. What I. You know. I’m–”

The bed dips on his right, and Mu Qing trails off. From his peripheral vision, he sees Hua Cheng taking off his own upper robe.

“If you're so uncomfortable,” he says casually, “you can put this on, general.” The ghost king drapes his red upper robe over Mu Qing’s shoulder, and his touch is so gentle, so tender, Mu Qing actually trembles.

“Cold?” he asks, right into Mu Qing’s ear. Mu Qing’s head tips forward to bypass Hua Cheng’s warm–how is it warm when he’s dead–breath. When he glances up, he locks eyes with Xie Lian, who pouts with his eyes wide like a deer’s.

“We’re not strangers.” his palms cup Mu Qing’s cheeks, and he finds himself leaning towards the touch. “We’re your friends.”

“Yeah, jackass. Stop pushing us away with every inch of your fucking life. It’s fucking annoying,” Feng Xin just has to add.

Mu Qing turns his head to glare, but Feng Xin smiles like a maniac instead of glaring right back. It’s fond and adoring and completely unlike him.

Hua Cheng scoffs from beside him. “It’s really not that hard to let yourself be spoiled, just for a little bit. You're too hard on yourself, Xuan Zhen.”

“Fucking hate to agree with Hua Cheng,” he hears Feng Xin mutter.

“Ugh…” Mu Qing hides his face with his hands, embarrassed. He’s sure he looks nothing less than a tomato.

Xie Lian’s chuckle fills the air and Mu Qing thinks that maybe this isn't so bad.

This is nice.

He might not want this again, or he definitely will want this again.

[dreamingthroughwords]

Sometimes, Xie Lian will sit in the rain.

He’ll go out in their garden, smile softly as he passes by their freshly planted herbs and flowers, and strolls to the edge where he can see everything he and his husband have built together.

Adorned only in his robes, bamboo hat long passed to someone who needed it; who had shown him no kindness yet Xie Lian could not help but give that kindness to someone who had only given him anything but.

The rain soaked through him, drips down his face and wets his hair, and he lets the rain surround him and lets it leave gentle pats against his cheeks as if it was a tender kiss, as he reminisces.

Hua Cheng notices the first time he does this of course, he follows him outside.

He’ll say “You’ll catch a cold, Gege;”, before taking off his outer robe and placing it on Xie Lian’s shoulders, and he’ll sit next to his beloved.

Hua Cheng always waits for Xie Lian to speak first. Knowing him too well, oh so well, better than himself, he knows Xie Lian needs to gather his thoughts; turn them into something that makes sense, that coherently wraps his feelings into words that he may struggle with.

But his husband has all and so much patience for him; he will wait for him no matter how long it takes. That is a fact well known to both of them.

So Hua Cheng simply sits next to his husband, and when he pulls out his umbrella to cover Xie Lian, his husband stops him.

“It’s alright, San Lang, I’ll be fine,” he says, gazing at Hua Cheng with the usual kindness and love his still can’t believe is directed his way.

Xie Lian will then turn his head back to the sky, where Hua Cheng takes in the profile of his beloved as the rain sticks to his skin, takes in his neck that was once shackled now bare, and visions of a bamboo hat flicker in his memory, and Hua Cheng is beginning to understand.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?” Xie Lian speaks and Hua Cheng knows this is Xie Lian’s way of telling him without needing to be direct. He doesn’t need to be for Hua Cheng to understand his everything. “How cool the rain feels. It’s almost kind, like reaching out to you when you need it. Don’t you think?”

And Hua Cheng has flashes of a life once gone; one that was his and reborn a new as he watched as someone, finally, gave his God the kindness that he so deserved.

Tears of the sky can hold memories and the one held within it today is the one of the hand that had reached out for Xie Lian when no one else did; a nobody in a world of meetings in which are fleeting yet one person took the time to go out of their way to finally, return the kindness to one who had given so much he almost had none left.

“I do,” Hua Cheng whispers as Xie Lian smiles at him when he knows his husband understands him, and for the rest of the day they simply sit with the other as they think back on all that’s happened and how they finally, are back within each others reach, will be forever and eternally.

Each time it rains, together, they will join the other as raindrops coat their skin. Never forgetting, and always remembering, but now, never alone, and forever grateful for those who they crossed paths with who even showed one shred of kindness. Because sometimes it really is only one person, that can change everything.

[everylastbird]

I've been thinking of a soulmates style au wherein hualian discover they are soulmates after XL saves HC as a child.

In this AU meeting your soulmate is incredibly rare and very auspicious, so even though HC is a commoner he is recognized as XL's future spouse and taken into the care of the royal family, but sequestered away from XL to maintain decorum. They see each other now and again, and interact during events and gatherings, but otherwise are kept separated. HC is delighted and pines and generally dreams of the day he gets to officially marry XL and be his wife.

(I like to personally use the term 'wife' in danmei specifically to mean 'the spouse that marries into the home of the other', so as he is marrying into XL's home, he would be the bride in this scenario.)

XL ascends, as in canon. Unlike in canon, when a soulmate ascends, so too does your soulmate, and HC ascends with XL.

XL also descends and falls from godhood, as in canon. Ever so magnanimous, JW ~kindly~ allows HC to stay in heaven upon XL's request, as HC didn't break any rules. HC is, however, bound to the heavens, unable to descend to seek out XL.

Centuries pass, and HC becomes known as a God of constancy, faithfulness, and marriage. He is regarded with both awe and pity. Poor HC, who remains loyal to a faithless god of misfortune. Isn't it incredible, how much he is willing and able to endure to uphold the sanctity of his marriage vows? He has a large faction of worshippers, mostly brides and wives in arranged, unhappy marriages, who pray to him for strength.

Few, if any, remember that Xianle fell before HC had the chance to marry XL. That all this time he has remained steadfast and true to his fiancé, rather than his husband. The gods that do look upon him with scorn and judgment. No one expects him to remain loyal to the likes of XL, so who does he think he is putting on this show for?

It doesn't matter what those gods, or even what his worshippers think of him, however. HC is loyal to XL out of love, and devotion. He is not suffering out of obligation. His only pain is that felt by his fiancé, and the pain of separation forced upon him.

And despite what the gods and his worshippers assume, he is not a long-suffering bride who sits and pines for his beloved. While he yearns for the day he can reunite with XL, HC spends his time playing the long-con. After all, is the keeping of house and home not one of the primary roles of any good wife? And the heavens are so steeped in filth. Certainly not worthy of his husband to be.

As for XL, he strives and toils to regain his godhood under the weight of his lost worshippers and the scorn of the gods who once praised him.

More than that, he worries, often, about HC, and his misplaced loyalty. Every now and then XL hears another tale of HC's endless, unshakeable loyalty, but with those tales also come stories of that devotion being nothing more than a shackle. Nothing is ever said of HC's love for his husband, or HC's happiness, only his impressive endurance in the face of obligation to a worthless husband. XL fears that HC is little more than a long suffering would-be bride, held back by XL's mistakes and the fate that bound them together without either of their say.

So XL does his best to regain his godhood, so that he may re-enter heaven and finally free HC from himself for good.

When, after 800 years, XL finally ascends once again, nothing is as he had expected it to be. There is a crowd, but no one is casting judgment or disparaging him. Instead, it seems as though he has ascended amidst the start of a lavish celebration.

As XL stands amidst a sea of joyful revelry, a procession slowly makes its way towards him, and at its end, a bridal sedan.

When the sedan stops before him and a hand moves aside its curtain, XL reaches out to grasp it without thinking. Gently, he leads the bride off of the sedan and onto solid ground.

XL looks up at a veil of opaque crimson silk. He cannot see the face behind it, does not even know, after all this time, what HC would even look like... But in this moment he knows, unquestionably, that this is not just any bride, but his bride.

Part of XL recalls that one of his main reasons to rise to godhood again was to let HC go, to finally allow him freedom from the weight of being tethered to someone like XL. And yet, any thoughts of breaking his vows to HC dry up in his mouth. He has thought of so many ways to say it, so many ways to cut HC loose of him without bringing HC any more pain, but he cannot bring himself to say any of them.

The hand in his grasp turns, and laces their fingers together. His bride's hand is strong, XL observes as though from a distance, unflinching and sure.

"Hello, gege," HC says. His voice is deeper than XL remembers, richer and more vibrant than anything he has experienced for decades, if not centuries. 

"Ah, San Lang, I'm sorry, " he manages to force out through his shock. His laugh is pitchy and uneven even to his own ears. "I'm afraid I'm not quite prepared...!"

"It's okay, gege." A thumb carasses his knuckles tenderly, and XL's throat tightens. "I already have everything ready for us."

[circus-complex]

Hi!

Drabble idea Xielian gets turned into a ferret during Halloween, and hua chen taking care and dressing up said ferret cuz it's cold and he doesn't want gege to be cold 🥰

Pumpkins took the place of lanterns, and children ran through the streets. But in one house, that held a true ghost and a god:

Hua Cheng blinked.

The ferret – Xie Lian – blinked back.

“Gege?!”

Xie Lian scurried into Hua Cheng’s arms, squeaking and nipping.

“Gege, take this,” Hua Cheng draped a scarf over his small, furry, body. He reached into his robes and pulled out four small mittens, “Here, let me put these on too.”

Hua Cheng, satisfied with his work, patted the top of Xie Lian’s head. Xie Lian chirped and nestled himself next to Hua Cheng’s unbeating heart.

[habizuh-studios]

TGCF in Hua Cheng's POV?!

More likely than you think. Part 1, Book 1

---------------- “Crimson Rain,” Hua Cheng hears in his spiritual communication array. He’s been so bored lately. The only semi-interesting thing that had happened was him pummeling Qi Rong to the ground in his own city, so he’s excited to hear something.“I have good news for you,” he says. He more excited than usual. “So good that you have to contact me this way?” Hua Cheng says with a smirk. “To the point of having to use that stupid password, yes,” He Xuan probably rolls his eyes. “But I’ll get straight to the point. His Highness, the Crown Prince of Xianle, has ascended to Heaven once again.” Hua Cheng’s eyes go wide hearing that. His Royal Highness… Part of him wishes he found him earlier. The rest of him, however, is quietly celebrating. He brings his hand down from when it was resting on his temple and closes it into a fist. His head hangs down a little bit and he closes his eyes. He smiles- a true, genuine smile. It may be ugly, with too sharp teeth and crooked, but it’s genuine. It took so long… “Hua Cheng, what are you doing?” He Xuan’s annoying monotone voice breaks his euphoric stupor. Fuck He Xuan. “You don’t even know where he currently is.” “... Aren’t you going to tell me?” “Yes,” He Xuan says. How Hua Cheng can hear the joy in He Xuan’s voice. It’s uncharacteristic, but he doesn’t really care at the moment. “But not for free. He has caused quite the property damage from his ascension alone. Sent a clock flying towards General Xuan Zhen, destroyed General Nan Yang’s palace… He’s in a lot of debt. Now he’s doing a mission in the mortal realm to pay it off.” Hua Cheng thinks that this is very convenient. His good luck was actually worth something! “Hua Cheng, don’t you want to know where he-” “Free food, five months. I’ll feed your bonefish for two months. Anything else for them, one. Nothing to your debt.” “Ehem, pardon?” “You heard me. Do we have a deal, He Xuan?” “DEAL. He should be near the mountain of Yu Jun, at a tea shop… Small Shop of Chance Encounters. Fitting name, isn’t it? Anyway, he’s going to solving that Ghost Groom case some people were praying about. Maybe he’ll even ride in the bridal sedan…” “6 months of free food.” Hua Cheng can hear how much smile is in He Xuan’s voice. It’s disgusting, honestly, and he honestly pities him. That does not matter right now, however. What does matter is His Highness. He will not throw away this chance no matter how much it costs him. Just to see him once is all he asks for.

[fortune-maiden]

FX Week Day 5: Childhood

Day 5 of @fxweek :D

Have a cute and innocent drabble :D

“It’s his current phase,” the queen chuckles, her voice full of motherly affection. “When he makes a new friend, he has to determine what weapon suits them best.” The other court ladies share in her mirth as they watch the two boys at play. They don’t understand how serious it all is. Xie Lian knows Feng Xin has the makings of a master archer and gushes enthusiastically about it as he holds Feng Xin’s arms and shows him how to shoot a bow. Many years later, when Feng Xin becomes his bodyguard, the bow is right there on his back.

[zarasu]

There's something about Ghost City, Xie Lian thinks.

It's strangely familiar, even though it's unlike anything he has seen before. There's something about the red everywhere, something about the architecture, something, even, about the smell.

It's like Xian Le, he realises as he enters the Gambler's Den, being swallowed up by the manic, colourful crowd. The thought is utterly ridiculous. This place is nothing like Xian Le, really.

And yet... and yet.

The smell of floral incense fills his lungs and he thinks of streets full of flowers. He touches one of the columns reaching up towards the second floor and he's reminded of playing hide and seek as a child, ducking behind columns like this and running around them to flee when he was found. From the corners of his eyes, the people here look dizzyingly familiar.

Everything, everything makes memories come bubbling up until he can feel fine cloth swishing against his wrists, until he holds his chin up with the boisterous arrogance of youth.

It's Xian Le, but with all its colours inverted. Completely different, all the darkness out in the open, but the frame is the same.

He breathes memories and long lost feelings as he gets closer to the red curtain fluttering in the room, up on the dais.

There is someone sitting behind it and, in his heart, Xie Lian already knows who it is.

Hua Cheng had come to him like a secret in the shape of a person. Close-lipped smiles like he was holding a flower on his tongue, but his eyes sparkling like stars. Now, he is unfolding like a flower in the night, showing Xie Lian his true self.

Ghost City is Hua Cheng's domain, not only in name. He's everywhere, in the air, in the colours, in the very taste on Xie Lian's tongue.

He had asked to be shown Hua Cheng's true form. But now that he sees it, he only has more questions, the need to know gripping him with clawed hands and digging deep into his chest.

Hua Cheng, he wonders, as he looks up at the fluttering curtain, at the shape of a man behind it. Who are you?

Who are you?

And why do I feel that I know you?

[skygemspeaks]

"Why not escape the Heavenly Capital alive first, then find a chance to look for them later? Why did you insist on recognizing your son when the situation was so dire? I simply made the best possible decision for all parties in the moment."

Feng Xin wasn't nearly as calm as Mu Qing. "Best possible decision, my ass! You can only say that because it's not your family!"

"That's right!" Mu Qing yells back, cutting off Feng Xin before he can continue berating him. "YOU are my family!"

Xie Lian, who had been about to step in between them to mediate as he usually did, froze in his tracks. He turned towards Mu Qing, mouth open and eyes wide as he tried to figure out if he'd heard correctly.

Mu Qing's face was beet red and he had taken a step backwards, body trembling as if he was fighting the urge to flee, or maybe take back what he'd said.

Xie Lian's eyes darted to Feng Xin, who was staring at Mu Qing blankly, all the fight having drained out of him.

"Y-you and his highness are my family," Mu Qing reiterated, stumbling over his words and only getting more flustered as he spoke. "And I know that I haven't always treated you the way you deserved in the past, and I know that you probably don't feel the same way about me, but that doesn't matter to me. As long as you both are okay, I don't care about what happens to anyone else."

Xie Lian swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, feeling tears pricking at his eyes.

Unfortunately, just at that moment he felt a sudden wave of killing intent, and dove forward to knock Mu Qing out of the way, shouting, "Watch out!"

[dani-in-the-daniverse]

Drabble: proposal

Xie lian laid awake looking at the ceiling of the hut at mount taicang, his body pleasantly exhausted after many rounds. He didn’t know how many hours had passed since he’d ran into his san lang’s arms after one year of absence, but the sky outside was clearing already.

Hua cheng had his head pillowed on xie lian’s chest, listening closely to his heartbeat. Xie lian smiled and absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, basking in the casual intimacy of the moment.

“San lang? Are you asleep?”

“Mmh, no. But if gege keeps doing that I might.”

He was so cute.

“I just wanted to ask… wanna get married? It’s not a joke.”

Xie lian was enveloped in a bone-crushing embrace, but there was no urgency this time, just love, pure, incurable love.

“Yes. Yes, gege, of course I want to marry you.” How could he not accept, when his god, his beloved, wanted to share his eternity with him?

“Thank you. Hong hong’er. Wu Ming. San lang. Hua cheng. I’m sure I’ll be the happiest husband… with you by my side, everything will be okay. Goodnight, my san lang. My fiancé.”

Hua cheng kissed him softly.

“Goodnight, gege.”

[leaf-boi]

Feng Xin ate Mu Qing’s Cherries

Characters: Feng Xin, Mu Qing, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian (mentioned Once)

Mu Qing would be fuming, he would be so angry he walked out of their shared flat. Words unable to describe his anger and his emotions.

Mu Qing would return hours later, having visited Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, and had calmed down enough to actually speak.

Meanwhile Feng Xin was freaking out. He hadn’t planned on eating them all or ANY at all. The store was closed now so he couldn’t even go and buy any he had been spamming Mu Qing’s number with apologies but only being left on read.

Mu Qing returning home and giving him the cold shoulder and silent treatment. He was usually petty as it was but Mu Qing believed it wasn’t enough to portray his anger but he couldn’t do much else without wanting to kill the other man

Feng Xin knew he would be sleeping on the sofa that night. And he wasn’t wrong when he saw a blanket and an extra pillow thrown on the sofa. ‘At least he brought them down for me’

Feng Xin being unable to sleep at all, knowing Mu Qing would be struggling (FX knows MQ can’t sleep without FX being there and vice versa) (he’s petty enough not to drag FX up right now lets be honest)

Feng Xin continuing to text him and actually finally getting a response

It goes like this:

Feng Xin: Mu Qing, I’m sorry. Feng Xin: Please talk to me baby:( Feng Xin: Muffin? Feng Xin: Sweet Pea? (He was definitely cringing hard when typing these out) Feng Xin: The love of my life? Feng Xin: Beautiful cinnamon roll who’s too pure and precious for this world…? Mu Qing: Sorry doesn’t bring back my fucking cherries, Feng Xin

Mu Qing tired and annoyed from the constant pinging of his phone finally replies

Feng Xin knows those specific cherries won’t come back

Feng Xin: I know… but i promise I'll buy you some more tomorrow… maybe even more than what you had before… Mu Qing:… Feng Xin: Please… Mu Qing: Fine… Feng Xin: Can i…? Mu Qing: Whatever

Feng Xin is quick to throw the blanket off of him, grabbing his pillow and running to their shared room and quickly joining Mu Qing side and attaching himself to his side constantly apologising and kissing Mu Qing’s lips, cheek, neck and all

The next day Feng Xin remained attached to Mu Qing's side- showering him with affection etc. And like he promised- bought more cherries for Mu Qing.

(Dividers from cafekitsune)

It's been a while guys, haha. Anyway reblogs, likes and comments etc. are appreciated! :) my Ask box is also open and i really need some asks to keep my motivated to keep doing stuff haha.

[nonacquiescent]

Red Herring

The first thing is up. The sense of up.

Direction? A sense of direction, up, down, all around. Even though there is absolutely nothing in any direction.

Just. Whatever THIS is. Whatever I… am? Was, were? Would be, will be, hopefully. The feeling of direction builds and knits together until the sensation can be defined as lying on something. Lying on something. That something is warm. The warmth brings a sense of safety, sanctuary, safe harbor and the overwhelming feeling of something straining, the certainty that if I could, if I had eyes, I would be overcome with a need to weep. One eye.

I used to have one eye. And that eye would be brimming with fresh tears at the feeling of this calming warmth all over my… Back? I am on my back, lying on something warm and soothing. Alive. This realization starts the onslaught of sensations all around whatever it is that I currently am. The fact is, I am not exactly laying on anything, warm or otherwise. I am currently nowhere and don’t exactly have a form that could lay or stand, what I seem to be getting are echoes of myself, somewhere else. My current situation is some sort of void that allows me to see, hear or feel nothing but the fact that I am. And that somewhere else, part of me is being protected on a shrine, an altar somewhere sacred and pure that almost feels unattainable, what heaven should feel like but I know deep within me, can't even compare to this.

But me? I’m not there. Not yet. And this knowledge of being non-corporeal? Should be maddening, I don’t think I could handle it, whatever little self has been gathered to grant me awareness would scatter into nothing if I had not the anchor that is this distant sensation of safety that calls to me, grounds me. Helps me be. So, I home in on the sensations, the sound, a faint smell of incense and burning that adds to the holy quality of the place, and I start to notice motion. My shrine moves. The altar in which I lay is not static, it is indeed alive. It is a person. Someone greater and more perfect than the heavens themselves, carries me with them, keeps me safe from harm, warm and cared for. The lack of eyes to weep from feels like a loss. I want a mouth to smile with. I want a voice to laugh and praise my sanctuary, that feels paradoxically, the one worthy of worship and admiration as I realize this is no shrine.

I am the believer; they are the God.

My beloved. Time passes and the next discovery is the silence. As days go by of me tuning-in to my beloved and their daily routine, I notice I haven’t heard their voice, no one speaks to them, there is a tinge of loneliness that I discover is not my own. They are lonely and silent as they go through their days, walking, working, the smell of their efforts and sweat, of home cooked meals with heavy spices in the air, maybe some burning… More incense. Still, no sound of their voice. So, I try pushing. As I feel them laying themselves to sleep, when all other sensations quiet down, and the sense of sadness and emptiness grows and overwhelms, I put myself or my feelings forward, to touch the loneliness that comes in waves lapping at my edges from their side of this existence. I call, I pray, I try to press into them my appreciation at their care of me, their refuge. It may be a coincidence, or it may have worked somehow, because I hear their voice for the first time.

“San Lang, I miss you so much”

I hear his voice. The crowned prince of Xianle Dianxia Xie Lian My god Gege

He carries me around his neck, he keeps me in his heart.

If I had hands they would tremble If I had eyes again, I’d pluck them back out, If I had a mouth… I’d be puking my insides.

The current of knowledge that washes over me, threatens to unmoor me, cast away into a sea of both wonder and a terrible fear, as I remember the more than 800 years that brought me here, to the ciomplete and absolute fulfillment of both my basest and highest aspirations and desires, held dearly and protectively in my loved one’s chest. Even if I currently lack a body to deposit in said coveted place of distinction. The ring with my ashes is there, and therefore, so will I, as soon as I can find a way to regain the physical elements of my being.

I will return, I will find him yet again and never leave. A red spark lights the abyss of black all around me.

For you, I am.

[chrononautintraining]

What do you know, @amloveabledeathmo? This is also on the menu! But it automatically comes with a soupcon of angst.

Ruoye slid around San Lang’s wrists playfully. The two were more comfortable than ever with one another, particularly after all their games the night before. Xie Lian blushed, trying forget the details of those games. Remembering would make him into a fumbling mess, and San Lang would take rutheless advantage. Instead, he picked up a broom, intending to begin a productive day.

“You can braid my hair if you like,” San Lang offered cheerfully. Xie Lian was not distracted. If San Lang wanted his hair played with, Ruoye would do it. He was going to be productive!

The silk band swirled eagerly up San Lang’s robes. Xie Lian smiled at them both as he continued sweeping. Then Ruoye rose over San Lang’s collar. To his neck. The white silk crossed San Lang’s neck.

Xie Lian had it pinned to the wall with both hands before his broom clattered to the ground.

“Gege?” asked a careful voice.

Xie Lian blinked. He released Ruoye. “Not his neck.” It was ludicrous. Crimson Rain Sought Flower had no need to breathe. Hua Cheng could not be bested by a lesser demon like Ruoye under any circumstances. And yet. “You don’t touch San Lang’s neck.”

[citronverveine]

Middle of the night. Xie Lian parks the car, exhausted, only thinking of slipping in bed and closing his eyes for at least the next 9 hours.

He unlocks the door and quietly makes his way around the house: shoes off, slippers on—a content sigh escapes him at the softness of the material. They’re cute, too, made to look like bunnies, white fur brushing against his skin and ears flopping against his ankles.

He grabs a glass of water for his dry mouth and sighs at the coolness soothing his throat. He hasn’t drank nearly enough water this evening. He stands there a few seconds, too tired to even think to move, before the drooping of his eyelids remind him of his primary goal: get to bed. Two main motivations help him move: first, sleep, second, San Lang.

A quick trip to the bathroom, a careless change of clothes, and he’s opening the door to the bedroom soundlessly, soft and ready to sleep. With how heavy his eyelids are, he’ll be asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

He slips into the shared bed happily, content to finally rest after his long evening. Hua Cheng is asleep already—it’s nothing surprising, it really is late. Xie Lian takes a moment to gaze at him before lying down, smiling softly at how peaceful he looks.

Dark hair messy on the pillow, eyes closed, face peaceful, a light pout on his lips. God, he really loves him.

He doesn’t look away as he lies down and scoots closer, until he finds Hua Cheng’s arms and softly hugs it. He doesn’t want to wake him but he wants to be close. Just the smell of his clean clothes—the same as Xie Lian’s ones—brings him so much comfort.

Xie Lian begins to drift. With his eyes now closed, he doesn’t have time to think about sleep before it engulfs him.

Vaguely, before he dives into this night’s dreams, he feels something—someone—stir next to him and wrap an arm around him.

I love you, is the last thing Xie Lian can think before sleep finally claims him.

— end

crossposted on twitter

[intcritus]

A silver butterfly lands on the tip of his fingers and a smile curves xie lian's lips, an innate fondness for these creatures because that means that his husband is near. The feeling of butterflies flutter in his stomach and he turns to see Hua Cheng, just as he reaches for him. And the god goes willingly, melting into those arms, nuzzling into his chest.

Dangerous he might be to others, but for Xie Lian, he’s nothing if not gentle, reverent in his touch as he cradles him close and oh, he never wants to be from him. Even a few moments is enough to cause heartache. Arms curl around Hua Cheng’s waist, looking up at the Ghost King, a warm grin spreads across the god’s pretty features. There’s no one who can get this close, who can lean up and brush a tender kiss against those lips and run soft fingers against the sharp line of his jaw, drawing him down for another kiss.

Because it’s what he deserves, complete and utter adoration and devotion. Because that’s what Xie Lian will give him every time. Being married to him was the one thing in Xie Lian’s life that he’d walked into with open eyes and heavens, he would do it again with a smile and all the joy in his heart. Oh! That’s right, he’d almost forgotten the flora he’d been in the middle of picking before his husband appeared.

Bringing one hand between them, he showed his husband the handful of flowers he’d picked just for him ! ❝ ━ Aren’t they pretty ? The deep red color reminded me of you, while the ivory and yellows reminded me of, well, me and they fit so well together. ❞ He laughs softly as he gazes down at the flowers, fondly. ❝ ━ Do you like them ? ❞

While Xie Lian knows that most people think it’s silly, Xie Lian has always liked flowers, what they could represent and how it was a thoughtful gesture. Keeping the handful of flowers between them, the god lays his cheek against his husband’s chest, ❝ ━ Maybe you can put them in the gambling den, near your throne, it would look nice there. Oh, or maybe I can make you a flowercrown, and you can wear it ? ❞ Is he using puppy dog eyes to convince Hua Cheng ? Absolutely.

in which the flowercrown martial god wants his husband to like his flowers. / @avaere

[xielianslver]

8 DAYS LEFT!!!!!

I'M SO EXCITED!!! I still have to go to the store to get the fifth and sixth book but YAYYYYY