#xie lian is out here going ‘what matters is u and not the state of u’ ‘i rediscovered happiness bc of u’ ‘i’m jealous of ur beloved :(‘ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

el-writes-things · 2 months

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the state of you

the biggest struggles of writing this were choosing a name for the fic and for xie lian's demonic dish from the pits of hell LMAO

super scuffed hualian sick fic based on this post by @draweltz :) i legit speedran writing this in like three days and didn't edit so please forgive me if it's like. exactly as terrible as i expect it to be HAHA

i'm also notoriously terrible at writing proper endings so i apologize for that as well

u can read the fic here (under the cut) or on ao3

likes n rbs are super appreciated :)

Given the noises and scents emitting from the kitchen of their apartment, Xie Lian’s cooking wasn’t going… conventionally well.

Hua Cheng didn’t mind in the slightest, though, humming to himself softly as he twirled his chopsticks expertly around his long fingers. He’d offered his help already, as usual, and Xie Lian had declined, wanting to surprise him with some kind of odd, inventive meal, as usual.

He enjoyed being able to help Xie Lian in every way, but he didn’t argue too much about the cooking matter. Xie Lian was the first and only person who deigned to cook for him, and he seemed to take pleasure in preparing meals, so who was Hua Cheng to argue?

Tapping his chopsticks against the wood of their low-set dinner table gently, Hua Cheng tried to contemplate what Xie Lian had made today. It was an impossible endeavor based on smell alone, but he tried regardless, calling out guesses to amuse his husband.

“Is it… stew?”

“Nope,” Xie Lian called back over the sound of sizzles.

Hua Cheng considered the noises. “Is it… meat?”

“Wrong!”

“Really? Then, is it-”

A light laugh from the kitchen instantly warmed Hua Cheng’s heart. “Stop guessing, San Lang! Let me surprise you for once.”

“Oh, I’m always surprised by your cooking,” Hua Cheng replied sincerely, earning him another laugh.

“I’m almost done, okay? Just wait another minute or two,” Xie Lian told him.

Instantly, Hua Cheng rose from his seat on the floor. “Does gege want help carrying plates to the table?”

“I’m alright!” Xie Lian chirped. A series of sharp clatters met Hua Cheng’s ears and he winced, concerned. “Okay, close your eyes.”

Hua Cheng obeyed, covering his good eye with one hand. Soft footsteps announced the arrival of the martial god, followed by the sound of two plates being set down gracefully on the table in front of him.

“You can open your eyes now,” Xie Lian told him, and he moved his hand away.

The dish was, simply put, a monstrosity. Purple and pink bubbles popped at the surface of a thick, strange substance speckled with starbursts of orange and yellow. Equally horrible was the smell, pungent and awful. Hua Cheng looked up at his husband, seated to his left, with a grin.

“What is it called?”

“I call it ‘Dreams of Summer Nights Passed’,” Xie Lian replied.

Hua Cheng nodded affirmatively, picking up a spoon and stirring it through the plate. Beneath the pink and purple substance was a densely packed white… rock?

“And what’s in it?” Hua Cheng chipped away at the rock for a bite. He brought it up to his lips with a playful smile.

“It’s rice and strawberry curry. I put carrots and corn in it, too. Look, Ruoye helped me cut the carrots into neat pieces!”

Hua Cheng placed the bite in his mouth, chewing slowly. He scraped away at the rice-rock for another bite, mixing it with the curry again.

“It’s good,” he said when he’d finished chewing. “I like it. It’s one of your best.”

Xie Lian beamed at him and pulled his own plate closer to himself. “I’m glad you like my cooking, San Lang,” he told the Ghost King happily, spearing a carrot with the sharp end of his chopsticks.

“Of course I do. What’s not to like about it?”

The god gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “Do you not remember what happened to poor Quan Yizhen?” He popped the carrot into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Well, it wasn’t your fault that he wasn’t strong enough to handle your food. I, for one, will never ever be sick of, or from, your cooking.”

“Does San Lang promise?” Xie Lian teased.

“Of course, gege,” was his easy response, and he prepared another bite. “I promise.”

Xie Lian grinned at him and Hua Cheng grinned back, savoring the taste of the strange curry and Xie Lian’s happiness.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Hua Cheng woke up feeling terribly, horribly, awfully, dreadfully ill.

He shuddered violently, and Xie Lian shifted in his arms. He froze immediately, then slowly disentangled himself from his sleeping husband, clenching his jaw against the waves of nausea rising up within him.

When Hua Cheng had stumbled out of the room and down the hall, he slumped against the wall and hugged his stomach, willing himself to stay strong.

You’re a Supreme Ghost King. You’re over eight hundred years old. You’ve lived through things that were thousands of times worse than this. This is ridiculous.

He sucked a breath in through aching lungs- then stopped.

The next thing he knew, he was heaving over the toilet.

Hua Cheng shivered miserably, silvery pinpricks of sweat rolling down his spine. The bathroom floor was cold, colder than he remembered, and he clenched the sides of the porcelain bowl with a vengeance.

Another wave of nausea came crashing over him, and he gave in to it, only caring now that his husband didn’t hear him.

A quiet minute passed, then two. Hua Cheng rose on shaking legs to walk to the sink. He caught sight of his own reflection and shuddered. His gaze averted quickly and he splashed water on his face, trying to rinse the foul taste out of his mouth.

What on earth was wrong with him?

He’d never before had this kind of reaction to the food that Xie Lian had cooked for him before. He’d prided himself in the way he never flinched, and had grown to thoroughly enjoy the food that was prepared for him with such love.

Hua Cheng despised this feeling of weakness.

As if on cue, he could feel his stomach churn in rebellion.

It was all he could do to lean over the toilet again, shove his long black hair out of the way, and not make a mess.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

When his vision cleared and his consciousness drifted back into his aching body, Hua Cheng sat up. He rolled his neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it.

Judging by the slant of moonlight shifting through the window, only an hour or two had passed since he’d passed out, slumped against the wall.

Hua Cheng swiped a hand across his mouth, staring with disgust at the bile that came away on his fingers. He stood slowly, trying his best not to stumble, and washed off in the sink again.

Silently, he surveyed the bathroom. Despite his best efforts, he’d made a mess, one he’d rather die than leave for his husband to clean up.

Body still wracked with chills and tremors, Hua Cheng fished paper towels and a cleaning spray out from under the sink. He dropped heavily to his knees, ignoring the pain shooting through his stomach, and began to clean.

Tears began to prickle the corner of his eye and he closed his eyes. Self-hatred and confusion gripped him, and he clenched his fists.

Why would he be having this reaction? Was he really losing his powers? He hated this immensely, hated that he wasn’t strong enough for Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng disposed of the paper towels with shaking hands. He sat down again beside the toilet, hugging his knees, unable to stop the flow of tears down his face.

Slow, unsteady breaths filled his lungs, and he clamped his mouth over his sobs. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with the warmth of his husband tucked in the curve of his body.

But he still reeked and he would never, ever, ever want Xie Lian to see him like-

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng froze, trying not to breathe too loudly, raising his other hand to try to stifle himself.

It’s not enough, though, and he let out a loud hic that echoes in the bathroom. Hua Cheng glared down at his hands, annoyed at the way his body seemed to be betraying him at every turn.

“San Lang?” Xie Lian’s voice was closer now, and Hua Cheng tried to sit up straighter. He hated that he’d made him get out of bed.

“Are you in the bathroom? Seriously, what are you doing in there?” Xie Lian’s voice is teasing and gentle until he flicks the light on. His mouth makes the shape of a soft o, unbound hair flowing freely around his shoulders. Lit by the silver light of the moon and the golden light of the bathroom, he looks beautiful, an untouchable god.

Hua Cheng was, by stark contrast, a complete mess. His hair was tangled and undone, falling in messy snarls around his shoulders. The front of his shirt was wrinkled and half-wet from his attempts to clean it off. His stomach still hurt and he could only imagine how pale his skin was.

It was mortifying to be seen like this. He tried not to sniffle, reaching up to wipe the tears off his face.

Xie Lian was quicker, dropping down with his usual grace to cup Hua Cheng’s face with his hands, running his thumbs over his cheeks tenderly. Hua Cheng’s best efforts couldn’t stop the low sob that escaped his lips. He lowered his eyes, embarrassed.

“What’s wrong, San Lang?” Xie Lian moved closer, forcing Hua Cheng to meet the concern in his ethereal golden eyes. He refuses to speak, closing his lips together tightly.

But his husband was perceptive, and the pain in his eye and the way one arm was still half-curled around his stomach protectively must’ve given it away.

“Oh, no.”

Hua Cheng began to cry again, for real this time, and Xie Lian pulled him close. His fingers combed through Hua Cheng’s hair.

“It’s alright. I’m here now. Oh, San Lang, why didn’t you wake me up? You don’t have to suffer alone.”

Hua Cheng’s instincts took over and, in a moment of physical and mental weakness, he finally reached up and pulled Xie Lian’s body close to his own. He tried not to care about how bad he probably smelled.

Xie Lian lost his balance with a soft oof, falling forward onto Hua Cheng’s body. He buried his face in Xie Lian’s soft hair, inhaling deeply. The familiar scent of lavender shampoo filled his senses.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Xie Lian asked Hua Cheng quietly, drawing back slightly to look at him. His voice was steady, and he didn’t pry when Hua Cheng shook his head and pointed to his mouth.

“Okay. I’ll help you up, is that okay?”

Hua Cheng hated feeling powerless, hated the dizziness that overcame him and pushed him to lean heavily on his husband’s side as they shuffled towards the sink together. “Ge.. ge…”

But Xie Lian was strong, and Hua Cheng knew that. “It’s alright, San Lang. Come, here’s your toothbrush. You got it? I can help you…”

Five thoroughly humiliating minutes passed by before they were on their bed, having successfully made it out of the stinking bathroom and into their shared room.

Xie Lian helped Hua Cheng recline his head against their propped-up pillows before he ducked out of the room. He returned with tall glass full nearly to the brim with water. His dependable hands didn’t spill a single drop when they brought the cup to Hua Cheng’s lips, allowing him to drink slowly.

When he was done, Xie Lian placed the cup on the bedside table before climbing into bed with Hua Cheng. He sat beside him, legs pressed against Hua Cheng’s side when he turned to face him. “Are you alright?”

Hua Cheng managed a nod, still too embarrassed to say much more. He found that he was even more reluctant to tell Xie Lian what happened now that he was out of the bathroom and with his husband.

“San Lang.” Xie Lian’s voice was reprimanding, yet kind. “Tell me what happened. Please?”

The two locked eyes, golden eyes determined and shining, black eye a swirl of conflicting emotions.

Hua Cheng could never deny his husband of anything he’d asked, however, and he told him the whole story in strung together pieces, trying desperately not to meet his eyes.

Xie Lian’s hand drifted over to cover Hua Cheng’s and he listened attentively, nodding when it was appropriate. When Hua Cheng finished, Xie Lian sat silently, as if contemplating something.

“San Lang, why wouldn’t you wake me up or tell me?”

“It’s… gege, I never get sick from your food and I don’t ever want you to stop cooking for me just because… because of something like this…” he trailed off, then closed his eyes. “And I don’t even know what caused it. I’m always fine and I love that you cook for m-”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said, his hand squeezing Hua Cheng’s reassuringly. “Have you ever considered that you might just be… allergic to what I made?” Allergies. Hua Cheng’s mouth opened, then closed. It made sense, and he hadn’t even considered it. “Oh.”

Xie Lian smiled and moved closer, wrapping his arms gingerly around Hua Cheng’s torso and snuggling close. “My poor San Lang. Will you come wake me up if this ever happens?”

Hua Cheng laid his cheek against the top of Xie Lian’s head, nodding.

“Thank you. Do you want to sleep now? You must be tired.”

“Actually, gege… I’m a bit hungry. Any leftovers?”

Xie Lian looked up to gape at Hua Cheng. He chuckled quietly, turning to pull Xie Lian into his arms.

“Only joking, gege. Unless…”

His husband bumped the back of his head against the curve of Hua Cheng’s neck teasingly, and Hua Cheng laughed again, already feeling better.

#hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #san lang #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #heaven officials blessing #tgcf #tgcf fic #writing

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