( his voice manages a steadiness he does not entirely feel, senses muddled and sharpened all at once with hua cheng. given the state he is in, xie lian wastes no time in using the magic that his familiar feeds to him, and even though he is very much out of practice with magic in this way, it comes back to him naturally as breathing: the sort of almost invisible spellcasting indicative of someone so powerful once it truly did seem there was a god among men, even other magic users. as they disappear from the caverns, xie lian feels an abrupt violent presence at his back, saturated in ire, but it's there then gone.
then they are back at xie lian's home, makeshift shop in progress, somehow a place locals have called "puqi shrine" even though it is hardly a place of worship so much as an odds and ends place. filled with xie lian's scraps collected, knowing well now the sin of waste, but even as a child...so many years ago, he had disliked old things being put aside and forgotten, kept them in piles near him, a bizarre mingling of things. as they arrive, he uses both hands still blood stained to support hua cheng, mindful of not holding him too harshly or tightly because his own physical senses are so overlapped, making it hard to tell with precision what force he exerts. so he errs on the side of extreme gentleness, relying on some of the magic hua cheng lent him but more so his own qi. it spools out from him like so much moon white silk, and indeed almost as if a physical manifestation, ruoye unwinds from his arm, adherent to its master's concerned heart. )
You'll be alright.
( soft words bundled and promised as breaths into a drowning body, xie lian guides hua cheng to the small bed, coaxing him to lie down. for a body that exuded little to no heat of its own originally once human shaped, it is alarming how much like a furnace hua cheng seems, and xie lian almost in childlike franticness, drops another kiss to his temple and asks him to wait a moment. then he's up on his feet again to grab a small bowl he fills with cold water, as well as a small rag. it only takes less than a minute for him to return, and it helps that it's just one room, this shop or home or shrine or however people wish to see it. he kneels at the bedside and takes a deep, trembling breath. it's alright, he reminds himself. in the end, a familiar depends on its master, and xie lian despite being overwhelmed by how hua cheng himself feels, is in fact "fine" himself. another breath. he blinks, then dips the cloth and wrings it out so it's only slightly damp, before gently laying it across hua cheng's forehead.
he doesn't know if this is foolish. the heat that burns from hua cheng is very much from his core, not his actual body, yet perhaps it can afford him some external relief even so. but xie lian reaches out to him again with his qi as well, a soothing stroke along skin and soul that makes his own cheeks burn but he doesn't know what else to do, how else to make sure he is reaching him. there exists a tenuous threshold here; he can feel hua cheng holding himself in, in a sense, that he is anxious of something even if xie lian cannot entirely identify it as worry about control or loss of it. he cards his fingers through hua cheng's hair, cocooning him in his energy, the sheer amount of which is abnormal and part of what always made xie lian so strong as an enchanter: that even before he came into his actual magic, he was a honed vessel of a particular qi bound to instinct as much as discipline.
as he takes the cloth off to soak and wring it again, turning it over, he pauses, the water dripping onto his own lap as he leans over to kiss hua cheng again, this time on the mouth, seeking:
what can i do? i will do anything you need. can you tell me? )
no subject
( his voice manages a steadiness he does not entirely feel, senses muddled and sharpened all at once with hua cheng. given the state he is in, xie lian wastes no time in using the magic that his familiar feeds to him, and even though he is very much out of practice with magic in this way, it comes back to him naturally as breathing: the sort of almost invisible spellcasting indicative of someone so powerful once it truly did seem there was a god among men, even other magic users. as they disappear from the caverns, xie lian feels an abrupt violent presence at his back, saturated in ire, but it's there then gone.
then they are back at xie lian's home, makeshift shop in progress, somehow a place locals have called "puqi shrine" even though it is hardly a place of worship so much as an odds and ends place. filled with xie lian's scraps collected, knowing well now the sin of waste, but even as a child...so many years ago, he had disliked old things being put aside and forgotten, kept them in piles near him, a bizarre mingling of things. as they arrive, he uses both hands still blood stained to support hua cheng, mindful of not holding him too harshly or tightly because his own physical senses are so overlapped, making it hard to tell with precision what force he exerts. so he errs on the side of extreme gentleness, relying on some of the magic hua cheng lent him but more so his own qi. it spools out from him like so much moon white silk, and indeed almost as if a physical manifestation, ruoye unwinds from his arm, adherent to its master's concerned heart. )
You'll be alright.
( soft words bundled and promised as breaths into a drowning body, xie lian guides hua cheng to the small bed, coaxing him to lie down. for a body that exuded little to no heat of its own originally once human shaped, it is alarming how much like a furnace hua cheng seems, and xie lian almost in childlike franticness, drops another kiss to his temple and asks him to wait a moment. then he's up on his feet again to grab a small bowl he fills with cold water, as well as a small rag. it only takes less than a minute for him to return, and it helps that it's just one room, this shop or home or shrine or however people wish to see it. he kneels at the bedside and takes a deep, trembling breath. it's alright, he reminds himself. in the end, a familiar depends on its master, and xie lian despite being overwhelmed by how hua cheng himself feels, is in fact "fine" himself. another breath. he blinks, then dips the cloth and wrings it out so it's only slightly damp, before gently laying it across hua cheng's forehead.
he doesn't know if this is foolish. the heat that burns from hua cheng is very much from his core, not his actual body, yet perhaps it can afford him some external relief even so. but xie lian reaches out to him again with his qi as well, a soothing stroke along skin and soul that makes his own cheeks burn but he doesn't know what else to do, how else to make sure he is reaching him. there exists a tenuous threshold here; he can feel hua cheng holding himself in, in a sense, that he is anxious of something even if xie lian cannot entirely identify it as worry about control or loss of it. he cards his fingers through hua cheng's hair, cocooning him in his energy, the sheer amount of which is abnormal and part of what always made xie lian so strong as an enchanter: that even before he came into his actual magic, he was a honed vessel of a particular qi bound to instinct as much as discipline.
as he takes the cloth off to soak and wring it again, turning it over, he pauses, the water dripping onto his own lap as he leans over to kiss hua cheng again, this time on the mouth, seeking:
what can i do? i will do anything you need. can you tell me? )