@robininthelabyrinth , you remember the time we discussed NMJ/his Lan harem with biting? Here is one snippet of it! I hope you enjoy!
.
His son came back with three pretty Lan cultivators.
Lao Nie would have found this amusing, perhaps a little exasperating, if his son hadn't declared them his brides. To the entirety of the Qinghe Nie Sect. In front of him. The Lan cultivators don't even seem to be surprised, but two of them seem more fascinated with the decorations of the main hall than what's in front of them, or what's happening.
The third one is clinging onto Nie Mingjue's arm with narrowed brown eyes and teeth bared. That's cute, but not the thing he's focusing on. Three brides? Since when the fuck did Nie Mingjue manage to get a harem? He doesn't know whether he should be proud or worried.
On top of that, there's no outcry from the Gusu Lan Sect. Strange; usually someone there would throw a fit if three Lan cultivators disappeared into thin air and appeared at another Great Sect. After all, they're sticklers to the rules, no matter what they say otherwise. These three Lan don't even seem concerned about their sect.
How interesting. And weird.
"I'm sorry," Lao Nie says, dragging his focus back onto his son. "A-Jue, may you repeat that?"
"They're my brides," Nie Mingjue says with a pouty scowl, drawing himself up to his full height. Lao Nie raises an eyebrow and gestures for him to continue. "Because they bit me."
They did what.
"... let me get this straight," Lao Nie says, since this is rather—he doesn't even know the word. It's killing him. "They bit you."
"Yes!" Nie Mingjue glares at him, as if daring him to challenge what was his. "What was I supposed to do, not take them back?"
To be fair, that was a joke from three years ago when Lao Nie had to explain to his son why he was marrying a huli jing. That apparently came back to bite him in the ass, especially if this is the result of said joke being told.
He eyes the three Lan, as one of them gnashes their teeth together in a way that makes him think of a kitten.
Only one of them is staring back at him, head tilted to the side like they're trying to figure out something. They're… also wearing their robes wrong, tucked in here and there. Hm. He can get them better robes, simpler ones. After all, they're going to be one of his son's brides.
"Well," Lao Nie says slowly, deciding to go along with his son's idea, "if they bit you…"
Nie Mingjue blinks at his words, before they seemingly go through his mind, before his son smiles. Salutes him, before turning around to tug the Lan clinging to his arm.
"Thank you for your blessings, fuqin," he says and reaches out to take the disorderly one's hand. "I'll go settle them within my courtyard now."
Lao Nie watches helplessly as his son leads them away from the main hall, before he tips his head back and groans. Well. His son is almost married. Nearly. Only fifteen and he already has three brides. Lao Nie isn't sure whether he should be proud or not.
Wait.
"So," Lao Nie says very loudly and claps his hands together, as he turns to his subordinates. All of them slowly inch backwards. Smart subordinates.
"Absolutely not, Sect Leader," one of them says just as loud. A smart one! Very good.
"Someone," Lao Nie says, ignoring the subordinate's protest and stretching the word out, "gets to have the honour of delivering books about marriage custom and some spring books to my son's courtyard!"
His subordinates' eyes go round with realization and horror. Very smart subordinates.
"You can fight out who gets to be the one to do it!" Lao Nie opens the doors and walks out. "Have fun, everyone!"
Lao Nie pretends not to hear the sudden screeches and hums to himself, closing the doors behind him. Now, to prepare some gifts for his son and his upcoming wedding!
The infamous Wen-Lan switch I had in mind. Wen ruohan is the youngest between lan qiren and nie zhenxiang, at the beginning of the fic they're all pretty young.
Have fun with these almost 500 words.
~~~°°°~~~
Wen ruohan almost tripped when he entered the room, in his defense someone had placed a small chair right in front of the door and there was no way he could've known that from outside. That wasn't troublesome in truth, his brothers saw him trip over much obvious things, included his own feet during their first night hunt together, years before, what really troubled him was the small laughter coming from the man inside, the darkness lingering in his voice, the way his lips curved up when he turned his head, the way his eyes had an almost wicked gleam in them. It wasn't the man he grew to know, it wasn't the man who became his sworn brother.
"Da-ge told me you were sick." he started, he pushed that fear he felt away from his voice, he tried to remain calm. "and I'm afraid I need to agree."
He moved a couple of steps toward him, swallowing.
"he's like a beast, - he thought worried. - I'm pretty sure he can smell fear. So don't be scared. He's still your brother... Somewhere."
"sick?" lan qiren mused and crooked his head to the side. He was sitting as always, by his desk in his personal study chamber, with more papers and books open than wen ruohan had ever seen. "Da-ge worries too much, you know. Come, come here. Let me show you something."
He wanted to run, run far away and as fast as his legs could carry, run to Qinghe and beg their older brother to do something. To protect him. Because damn, yes, wen ruohan was scared. Really scared this time. Instead he took a tentative step forward.maybe he could help. Yes, yes, he could try.
"good boy. Now, look. - lan qiren pulled out of a sachet a shard glowing darkly in his hand, instinctively wen ruohan took a step back. - isn't it beautiful? Can you feel it's power?"
He could. And that scared him even more, he simply nodded and looked away.
"xiang-ge doesn't want to help, you know? I think, - and here he lowered his voice with a little chuckle, so uncharacteristic of the always serious lan qiren. - I think our Da-ge is too weak to feel it's power. But you're not. You will help me, right? You'll help your er-ge."
He stretched a hand to touch his head like he did so many times before, but wen ruohan turned and ran out of the room, barely managing to suppress a loud, and very unproper, shriek.
His eyes, once so kind and gentle, had glowed red for a brief moment. That wasn't his brother anymore.
Soft laughter is carried along the breeze and reaches his ears with soft fluttering of flowers next to him.
Nie Qiuheng rests his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbow on the edge of the table, watching Nie Mingjue interact with Wen Xu in the garden ahead of him. It’s good, good to watch his son develop a relationship with the Wen boy, something that will end up as good relations with both of their sects. Perhaps Wen Ruohan would permit Wen Xu to visit the Unclean Realm.
Maybe Lan Qiren will allow Lan Xichen to come along, seeing how the boy may need friends from other sects. Nie Mingjue and Wen Xu seem both friendly enough with each other, enough to encourage the shy boy to join them the next time they meet up.
Quiet footsteps echo behind him, makes him slightly turn his head to see white and blue robes at the edge of his vision. Lan Qiren sits down beside him, narrowed dark golden eyes softening at the sight of the boys playing in front of them. The man seems more at ease than before, which says plenty from the times he stubbornly stayed away from both him and Wen Ruohan.
A breeze picks up, skids around them and tugs playfully on Lan Qiren’s forehead ribbon, the ends of it fluttering in the air. Nie Qiuheng remembers the same forehead ribbon, wrapped around Lan Qiren’s wrists rather prettily the other night. The other could have easily broken out of it, torn the ribbon apart and get a new one for himself, but—he trusted him, trusted Wen Ruohan, trusted them to not break him.
It says everything and how Lan Qiren feels about them. It warms him, doesn’t make him say it outright, but the way Lan Qiren allows him to lace their hands together is enough. Fleeting, yet, enough. Just for them.
He still doesn’t know what to call this, with what’s happening between him, Wen Ruohan, and Lan Qiren. A relationship? Partnership between three men who has seen the world at its worst? No. It’s still fragile, no matter how warm, so easy to shove down into the deepest, darkest part of his mind and bury it under his own duties. They have no name for it.
It’s just them.
Pale lips twitch into a faint smile, and Wen Xu is showing Nie Mingjue a small flame flickering in the palms of two hands. Nie Mingjue seemingly makes gestures, mouth rapidly speaking, makes Wen Xu incline his head and blow the flames to the sky. Said flames turn into a lantern, floating in the sky.
“Enjoying yourself?” Lan Qiren asks, and he probably already knows the answer.
“Indeed,” Nie Qiuheng says mildly and feels his lips curl into a soft smile when Lan Qiren leans closer, dark golden eyes trained on the children. “Are you feeling fine?”
“I will live, Sect Leader Nie,” the other says dryly, like the sudden shift of discomfort isn’t visible. It’s barely visible, shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, yet Nie Qiuheng wants to tell the other head back to the guest room Wen Ruohan set up for all three of them. His chest tightens, and suddenly he can’t breathe much.
“We are on equal grounds as of the current moment,” Nie Qiuheng says, then adds, “Qiren.”
Lan Qiren eyes him carefully, as if he doesn’t expect Qiuheng to mean it. Then quietly, with uncertainty– “Qiuheng.”
The whisper of his name makes him gently squeeze the other’s hand, turn his gaze back towards the children. Wen Xu seems to be copying movements of a set from Nie Mingjue; dancing movements from one of their festivals. Feels his lips curve into another smile when his son corrects Wen Xu’s posture and resumes the lesson.
Lan Qiren lets out a noise of aggravation as his hand tightens around his own, makes him look over to the other, who is staring behind them. He looks younger without the goatee, Nie Qiuheng thinks absently as he turns to see Wen Ruohan walking towards them with an uncharacteristic smile on the man’s face. The man’s robes are mostly parted to reveal a bare chest, and... a bite mark.
Ah, he thinks, so that’s the reason why Lan Qiren is annoyed, with dark golden eyes narrowing in frustration.
“Shameless,” Lan Qiren mutters as Wen Ruohan steps up to them.
“You were the one who was rather shameless last night, Qiren,” Wen Ruohan tells the other with a smirk, looking smug when Lan Qiren looks as if he’s about to hit the man. It’s deserved, but that seems to be exactly what Wen Ruohan wanted. “Who was the one begging Qiuheng and I to hurry up again?”
“You are ridiculous,” the other retorts, turns away, ears burning a bright red. “And I was not begging, only merely calling out your names.”
Wen Ruohan softly lets out a laugh, caresses their joined hands with a gentle touch before reaching to grip Lan Qiren’s shoulder. Leans forward across the table to press his forehead against Lan Qiren’s, the other’s eyes fluttering shut. It’s astonishing, to see the fearsome Sect Leader Wen quiet the Lan Regent down with a couple of words and gestures.
Then again, he’s been seeing it for the past few days now, the way Lan Qiren silences Wen Ruohan with a look, their touches gentle and lingering, the sarcasm and harsh words spoken with no heat behind them. Nie Qiuheng does not wish for this to end for the world, nor does he want it to stop.
Doesn’t move when Wen Ruohan moves his head back, grins that impossible smile of his, all sly and lazy, and turns towards him. “Qiuheng,” he greets cheerfully, like Lan Qiren isn’t giving him another glare. “Would you like to see Qiren in red or in that dark green?”
Lan Qiren splutters. He stares. That’s... that’s a question? Does Wen Ruohan wish to see the other wearing their sect colours? Nie Qiuheng licks chapped lips, tasting the sweet iron taste of blood on his tongue as he continues to stare. “Red and white with gold?” he says with slight confusion.
“He would look better in red and gold,” Wen Ruohan says thoughtfully, a pleased grin spreading across his lips.
“Do I not get a say in this?” Lan Qiren complains lightly.
“I like seeing you dressed in my clothes,” Wen Ruohan offers nonchalantly, and Lan Qiren flushes a bright red before looking away from him, “however, I believe you’d like a different set of clothes so you don’t have to get your current ones dirty.”
“You made them dirty,” Lan Qiren mutters.
“Perhaps because he was rather excited to see you out of them,” Nie Qiuheng says mildly, feels his lips twist into a smile as both men turn to look at him. The other narrows his eyes at him, expression perfectly neutral except for the betrayal in his eyes. Wen Ruohan simply laughs. “Seeing how he nearly ripped them off of you.”
“Like he did to you?” the other challenges.
Nie Qiuheng softly snorts, feels his cheeks heat up, and notices how Wen Ruohan places his hand on top of their hands. It’s easy to lose himself within the others’ companionship, the way Lan Qiren gives his rare smiles freely to them and Wen Ruohan discards his role as Sect Leader. It shouldn’t be happening between them.
Yet, it already does. Nie Qiuheng knows what kind of tea Lan Qiren favours during the morning, and what snacks Wen Ruohan prefers to eat when with them. He knows how Lan Qiren acts much softer with no heat behind words, and how Wen Ruohan makes sure they’re both alright with whatever the man plans.
Knows how easily Lan Qiren can coax Wen Ruohan out of doing paperwork with few words, only drawing back when Wen Ruohan tells him to. Their relationship with each other has already been established, years ago, and yet—Nie Qiuheng finds himself in the middle of it, watching the two dance around him and each other, all unsure of how to proceed, especially when they’re all so tired.
Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he watches as Nie Mingjue and Wen Xu dance in the ring of fire together, both boys smiling brightly at each other. Behind him, something shifts and a calloused hand grasps his chin, makes him turn around to see Wen Ruohan towering over him. The man is as tall as him, yet, he looks more of a giant who seems to love getting the attention of both him and Lan Qiren.
“Qiuheng,” Wen Ruohan murmurs, low and deliberate, crimson eyes dancing with mirth. “Have you ever thought of yourself in red?”
Either the man means in the Wen Sect colours of red, or bathed in scarlet when slicing through hordes of Fierce Corpses. Nie Qiuheng swallows, and steadily meets Wen Ruohan’s eyes with his own lips settling in a straight line. Lan Qiren’s hand tightens on his, as if reassuring him everything would be alright.
It would, though. Wen Ruohan would never harm him, nor would he harm Lan Qiren. That’s how much Wen Ruohan seems to care for them, even if Nie Qiuheng has seen Wen Ruohan murmur forbidden words in Lan Qiren’s ears. And after figuring the man was corrupted with resentful energy, after cleansing him with the Song of Cleansing and Hekai, well. He hasn’t seen signs of the man trying to harm them.
His heart beats rapidly as Wen Ruohan leans closer to him, hand still gripping his chin. Feels his eyes fluttering shut when the man gently kisses him, soft and sweet. Hands tighten on his own, and Nie Qiuheng feels teeth suddenly biting down on his lips. Not enough to draw blood, but—enough to make him grunt and draw back.
The man cares about them. He would never harm them. Nie Qiuheng knows it all too well, especially the feeling fluttering in his stomach as Wen Ruohan grins sharply. Love is too strong of a word to describe them, and yet—it fits them just fine.
“I thought of sleeping in red blankets,” Nie Qiuheng says steadily, like he hasn’t just been kissed and had his lips bitten on.
Wen Ruohan stares at him. “... what. What, no,” the man squawks, and jerks back. The wide-eyed look on the other man’s face makes him snort. “I am not talking about blankets or sleeping! Where did you even get that idea?”
He turns to meet dark golden eyes, pale lips curling into a faint smirk. “I, too,” Lan Qiren says, which would have been a straight face if not for the smirk, “would like to sleep in red blankets.”
“Qiren, not you, too!”
Yes, Nie Qiuheng thinks as he watches Lan Qiren lean up to kiss the complaint out of Wen Ruohan’s open mouth. In front of them, Wen Xu and Nie Mingjue let out soft peels of laughter as they dance within the ring of fire. He wouldn’t trade this for the world.
A MDZS fic set within the older generation and the aftermath of their version of the Sunshot Campaign; Nie Qiuheng/Lan Qiren, with healing and promises and friendship and a really long slowburn.
Nie Qiuheng of course belongs to you, Cher, and the revenge prompt was given by @ladyteldra ! That being said, thank you for letting me borrow NQ so many times, Cher, it means a lot!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fire flickers at the corner of his vision as he walks down the former grand corridor of the palace. Shadows dance along his steps, glamorous treasures displayed and tossed carelessly along the walls. A couple of corpses lay here and there, heads dipped and blood splattering the floor, stained in dark red.
There are stab wounds here and there on the bodies, and tossed carelessly to the walls, like they’re dolls. Cleansing rituals will be needed in order for there be no leftover resentful energy left or any Fierce Corpses coming alive. There are plenty of opportunities to do that later, when he has some of his sect members with him.
In any case, that’s not what he’s come here for.
Nie Qiuheng is only looking for the way down to the dungeons, to find Wen Ruohan. With all the members and disciples of the Qishan Wen Sect surrendering, there is only the Wen Sect Heir left to find. He hasn’t seen Wen Ruohan since two years ago, when Wen Ruohan mercilessly burnt down Lotus Pier, and left the Yunmeng Jiang Sect with ashes.
