#mowen x lan jue

[randomingoftherandomness]

27 for the romantic confession dialogue prompts, pairing if your choice :3

Mon Veraaaa ﾟヽ(o♡o)/ Thank you for the prompt! I think I will go for Mowen x Lan Jue (with a h i n t of mowen x lan jue x zhang ping) :) It's been a hot minute since I wrote a fic,s o o...

No. 27: “i feel your absence in everything that i do alone, in every place i go without you.”

~*~*~

There's a certain beauty that dances on Peizhi's brow when the moon is bright enough to skim the rims of their drinking cups. As if some deity from above would like to linger on him for a just moment more, sighing for a heart's beat longer.

Mowen can empathise.

It's now deep enough into the night hours that he should probably call it quits and make his way home. In a carriage, of course, he knows better than to drag his feet, stumbling halfway across the city to his own manor.

"When do you leave for Yiping?" Mowen asks, darting his eyes over to Peizhi, feeling his traitorous heart kick a half-beat at the smile that curls on his lips.

"In a fortnight."

"He'll be happy to see you," Mowen tries around the clicking of his throat. I know I would be, he doesn't say.

Peizhi's laugh is deep and melodious in the night air between them. Tinged with the sweetness of the wine, Mowen indulges in the sound. Allows himself to be warmed by the timbre even as he has to look away.

"Will you miss me?" He teases gently, rolling the wine cup between his fingers. "Because I will."

When he doesn't receive an immediate answer, he swallows tightly. Is this the moment Peizhi feels like he has toed a line? Before, Mowen had accepted that between them, there was never a need to quantify this ephemeral thing between them, never had a cause or reason to feel as if he needed an assurance.

But since he'd come back from the South, since the incident...

In his quiet moments, Mowen sometimes wonders what would have happened if Peizhi had loved Gu Qingzhang just that bit more. Just that bit more that it was enough to close his eyes to what he had planned.

(In those same moments, Mowen imagines a reality where Peizhi would love him with even a fraction of how much he loves his Shulin)

Just when Mowen begins to thread through those first syllables to deflect, to play his question off as a joke, Peizhi speaks.

“I feel your absence in everything that I do alone, in every place I go without you.” And that, in all its midnight sincerities, has Mowen breathless, eyes wide and on Peizhi as he climbs to his feet, coming to crouch in front of him.

Warm eyes search his own and Mowen is speechless. The air rushes out of his lungs in an exhale as he lifts a hand to touch the corner of Peizhi's smile.

"You..."

"Me?"

Mowen shakes his head, pursing his lips tightly in a failing effort to hide a smile of his own. "Incorrigible."

"But I'm not a liar," Peizhi says, his hand cupping Mowen's jaw. "Not to you. Never to you."

Mowen levels him with a look. "Only for good reasons!" Peizhi sputters, embarrassment colouring his cheeks a faint pink that dances delightfully all the way to the tips of his ears.

Pulling him closer, Mowen buries his face to a shoulder, sighing deeply. "I'll miss you when you're not here."

"I know you will," Peizhi's voice is a soothing rumble to his cheek. Clever fingers move to settle at his nape. "Which is why I've asked for special dispensation for you to come with me."

That has Mowen pulling back, lips parted in shock. "Peizhi!"

"Giving credit where credit is due, Zhang Ping helped!" He answers, laughter sneaking in between each word when Mowen begins to shake him by the shoulders. "He helped a lot!"

Groaning, he folds himself back against Peizhi's body, shaking with the laughter of his own. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

"Well," Peizhi hums, pressing their cheeks together. "Just know that we will always feel your absence when you're away from us."

[Send me a number!]

[movielosophy]

A League of Nobleman | Since I’ve chosen this path, I’ll never regret it even if I have to die a hundred times.

[kolachess]

Lan Jue x Wang Yan (Mowen) - Best ship name ever

Ok, definitely quite random, but I just wanted to take a moment to applaud the Chinese ship name for Lan Jue x Wang Yan from A League of Nobleman. I’m actually unsure if there’s been a good ship name for these two in English (nothing seemed to pop out at me?), but the Chinese fandom seems to have settled on 兰砚知己, which is perfect because:

兰 = ‘Lan’ in Lan Jue

砚 = ‘Yan’ in Wang Yan

知己 = ‘Zhiji’, which is confidante / soulmate (not necessarily in the romantic sense, but bromance / BL has opted to make it a Thing, and I’ve decided to roll with it)

And, there’s a similar sounding Chinese phrase ‘蓝颜知己‘  (in fact, only the second word has a different intonation from the ship name) which specifically refers to the male confidante of a woman (the ‘lan yan’ here means ‘blue’, or more specifically, ‘blue color’). 

And to add more fun, a common follow up / associated joke or saying is that ‘blue blue often turns green’, where the color green (and more specifically, wearing a green hat), means you’ve been cuckolded. That is to imply, of course, that any close male friend of a woman will likely always become a romantic interest. (Personally, I think that’s BS, but anyway that’s the saying / joke.)

So then coming back to this ship name, it was just *chef’s kiss*. Like, other ship names are often sayings or phrases as well, but not quite so well mapped multi-dimensionally.

P.S: I’ve opted to not tag this post with that tag, since I assume folks using that tag would already be aware of this and not impressed by my realization 🤣

Bonus: If you want to search for Lan Jue x Wang Yan content... searching this tag on bilibili gives you all the fun fanvids.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: That Slutty Turtleneck (Mowen x Peizhi x Zhang Ping;Modern AU)

A/N: Because of course. Dedicated to the loveliest of lovelies @xinxiaojie and @sarah-yyy (≧◡≦) ♡

Zhang Ping’s mouth is set in a grim and determined line and it’s an expression that Mowen is well acquainted with. Turning to Peizhi who has all but abandoned his book and chosen instead to elegantly sprawl out on their bed, he receives no help there too, not with the way Peizhi is slyly watching him from under the dark fan of his lashes.

Caught between a tickle of annoyance and irrational self-consciousness, he asks, “What?”

“You’re...”

“Me?”

Mowen lifts his hand to the collar of his sweater, looking down on his outfit. It’s one that he’d been given to wear as part of the sponsors’ request for tonight’s party. A simple turtleneck and a blue jacket, he doesn’t see what’s so wrong about his clothes that has both his lovers watching him like a hawk for the better part of the hour.

And it’s not as if he does events like these often. Tonight’s event is one that is important to the board members of the company. Even if Mowen had been given an out, he wouldn’t have taken it. 

His father, mercifully, respects and understands why he prefers to keep a low-profile in the press. Especially since Zhang Ping and Lan Jue got their heads out of their asses long enough to realise that they actually liked each other more than they did, and that the “like” in question was very much one that translated to wanting to share a life together.

Eyeing up the watch face around his wrist, Mowen sucks in a breath. He really should go if he wants to avoid the evening traffic. Flickering a quick side-eye to where Zhang Ping is still stoically watching him with arms crossed from the corner of the room. 

“If none of you are going to tell me, I’m going to assume that I have something in my teeth and I’m walking out the door.”

“You’re...” Zhang Ping croaks, pushing himself off his perch and stepping forward with a frown. Reaching out, he pinches the sleeve of Mowen’s jacket. Gently, as if he’s scared of accidentally creasing it. “This is...”

“What Ping’er means to say,” Peizhi cuts in, unfurling himself and his ridiculously diaphanous pale grey dressing robe that hides nothing from their eyes. “Is that you look very good tonight, Mowen.”

Raising an eyebrow, he gives his outfit another cursory glance before cocking his head back to Zhang Ping. “Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed that that was what you were trying to tell me with the look you just gave me.”

“Mowen,” Zhang Ping scrunches his nose, lips pursing again. “You look good.”

“Please try saying that again and in a way that doesn’t sound as if you’re constipated,” Mowen teases, laughing when Zhang Ping has the audacity to turn his big puppy eyes on him. 

“You do!”

“And yet that compliment sounds like you’ve just had to pull out your teeth.”

“Alright, alright,” Peizhi tuts. With an annoyingly easy grace, he swans over to them, sliding an arm around Mowen’s waist to pull him in for a quick peck to his mouth. Equally just as smooth, he leans over to kiss Zhang Ping too, smile never leaving his face as he does.

“Zhang Ping and I think you look very good in that turtleneck, and our Ping’er is just a little tongue tied about it all because he has never seen you in your slutty turtleneck era.”

Mowen scoffs. 

“It was a good era,” Lan Jue laughs.

“It got me you, didn’t it?” Mowen huffs. 

Tugging at the hand in his, he presses Zhang Ping into a hug, letting their youngest lover bury his face against his neck. Mowen has to bite back the chuckle when he hears the soft muffled whine rising from him.

Spying the time on his watch, he blinks at Peizhi, mouthing, “I have to go.”

Peizhi nods, dark eyes sparkling as he eases Zhang Ping out of Mowen’s arms. “I’ll keep him entertained. Don’t be late coming home,” He promises. “I’ll send updates.”

A bolt of anticipation trips up Mowen’s spine and he swallows tightly around the rush of air that escapes him. He can already foresee the constant pinging of his phone and the way he has to pray that his privacy screen protector will be enough to hide whatever manner of indecency Peizhi is sending to their text group to tempt him.

Smiling at the way Peizhi has begun to draw their Ping’er to him with slow, languid kisses, he thinks he is looking forward to it.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Mowen×Lan Jue×Shulin

In the calligraphy stall meet up era. You can choose to have all three meet at the same time (I hear that's what happened in the book, Shulin was with him when Mowen ran past the stall on horse), or meet separately with Lan Jue and hear of the other person through Lan Jue. Or not to have met Lan Jue at the same time at all, as in Lan Jue met Mowen after Shulin's disappearance. I simply just want *complicated feelings TM involving the three of them.

If you want you can add an epilogue with what went on with Mowen in the time Shulin reappeared and Mowen had yet to leave for war.🤭

Hi Nonny! Thank you for the prompt (っ˘ω˘ς ) I hope I do it justice.

Just a bit of disclaimer, I didn't read the novel nor am I planning to.

~*~*~

1.

Shulin feels a little hapless when he sees that his second favourite poem from Peizhi is tainted by the dust of the road. The haplessness grows into a budding spark of anger.

Especially when the rider of the horse that has just upended two days' worth of hard work, turns back to look at them, a corner of his lips lifted in a confident smirk that curls that spark into something that sits deeper, lower in his chest.

When he turns to Peizhi, he finds that his Zhiji has his eyes fixed on the rider. Even more so when said man dismounts in a graceful flourish that sees the sunshine catching on the richness of his robes.

Handsome doesn't even begin to describe the man. Tall, strong and proud, there's a sense that this man was born to be a hero. Just like those in all the stories he read as a child.

If he was so inclined, he thinks he could pick up a brush of his own to dedicate pages upon pages of written beauty to him.

Interesting, Shulin thinks distantly, feeling a prickle of warmth in his sternum that was most decidedly not anger, watching the man pick up the scroll of poetry, dusting it off with elegant fingers as he walks up to them.

2.

Wang Yan, Mowen, is for a lack of a better word, a tool.

He flirts, incessantly. Breaking hearts left and right, dragging both Shulin and Peizhi along with him on whatever latest escapade he had landed himself in from making eyes with some Minister's daughter or some pretty scholar who fell victim to his roguish charms.

Because a rogue, he is. Mowen with his easy, confident demeanour as he slinks up to their door to beg for dinner and a drink, or some company, or even just to sit and watch as he and Peizhi work on their letters or read the evening away.

Mowen is, in short, not part of the plan.

He can't be part of the plan. Shulin idly entertains the idea of shuffling forth a deviation or two just to send the man away for a few years. Away far enough from the intrigues of court and whatever machinations he has planned for himself and Peizhi. Away for long enough that he can be out of the way. Out of trouble.

Shulin kills that thought before it can take root. Caring for something is a burden. Caring for someone is a curse that he cannot afford. But when Mowen slides down on the floor next to Shulin, shoulder knocking against his knee as he passes over a bottle of Nv Er Hong he filched from his father's cellar, there's a twist in his heart.

A budding that blooms under the warmth and fondness of Mowen's smile directed at him. Shulin swallows down the venom that dances on his tongue and carves a smile in reply instead as he takes the bottle.

3.

"You like him."

Peizhi's voice is steady even if his gaze isn't. Shulin allows him to settle his hands on his hips, allows himself to be pulled closer in a tangle of limbs, hair, robes, skin to skin with no beginning and no end to where Peizhi's warmth is his and Shulin's chill is his own.

"You like him too," Shulin sighs, nuzzling his cheek to Peizhi's. "Don't lie. I saw how your brushstrokes falter when he bent over to pick up some boxes for me."

The non-answer wrapped in a slow hum is all Shulin needs to tilt his head and nip at a plush bottom lip, suckling it until Peizhi grunts in pain.

"What about you?" Peizhi asks, sliding his hand between the folds of his robes. His touch feels like a red hot brand. Shulin parts his lips on a shaky exhale as his eyes flutter shut.

"I like him enough," Shulin answers softly. Darting his gaze down to the pale slope of Peizhi's shoulder, he permits himself a heartbeat of honesty. "I like who you are when you are with him."

"Me too."

Shulin tilts his eyes to meet Peizhi's. Hand taking his own, Peizhi lifts his knuckles to his kiss-bitten lips, summer cherry red and half split by his efforts.

Dimly, he wonders if Mowen would permit his own lips to be painted in this same colour too.

4.

They're fine.

They'll be fine. They'll survive, they will thrive, and they will grow.

They will be without him.

They will be safe.

5.

Xu Dong sketches a quick bow in between hurried steps, barely a tip of his head to them as he carries Peizhi's orchid to his bedside. A good man, Xu Dong. Shulin is grateful that Peizhi has someone by his side like this.

"Why?"

Mowen's voice cuts through the quiet. Shulin turns to meet his eyes. There's no smile on his lips now. No confident amusement, none of the swagger he is known for throughout the capital.

Shulin regards him from over the rim of his cup of tea. The corners of Mowen's eyes are red, and anger colours the handsome lines of his face. Betrayal, the realisation settles in Shulin's bones like a run of lightning, because of me.

Mowen blinks, sitting back. Shulin quickly hides a cough in his sleeve. "I have no good answer," He rasps, clearing his throat.

It's at that that Mowen's body snaps forward, leaning halfway over the table to grab him by his shoulder. "Years, Shulin," He seethes. "We looked for you, searched every single time we caught wind that someone saw you. Why--"

"Why I never came back?" Shulin finishes in a whisper, lifting his eyes to meet Mowen's gaze. Swallowing down the copper tang on his tongue, he smiles, knowing precisely just how the red of his blood colours his lips.

To his surprise, Mowen shakes his head.

"Why are you back at all? Why now?" He stands, turning away from him as if he can't look at him for a moment longer. Shulin's hand itches to reach out but chooses to fold it in his sleeve instead.

"Would you believe it if I said it was because I missed you? Both of you?" He offers. A half-truth coloured with a patina of a life spent in a house in the middle of a lake when the truth hadn't yet unfurled her poisoned petals, and where Shulin had been the happiest since his childhood.

Mowen's fists clench and unclench. Shoulders tensed and unhappy. "Don't take me for a fool, Shulin. And please don't lie to me. I'm marching with the army tomorrow and I don't want to die with any regrets."

Shulin rushes forth, grabbing him by the arm. "You won't die."

"You're not a god, Shulin," Mowen chuckles softly, listing a little against him. Sliding his hand over Shulin's, he pats it gently, gripping it and pressing it to his chest. "You can't plan for everything."

I can, I have, I will, He aches to say. "Neither can you," Is what he offers instead, moving to press their bodies close. "So, none of this inauspicious talk."

When Mowen tilts their faces together, locking their lips in a familiar slide and push and pull, Shulin can only sigh.

+1

"Is this really necessary?"

The shackles around his ankles clank in a discordant rhythm when he kicks the chain out in time to the rocking of the carriage. The action hurts his toes, but the pain is a welcomed frisson that cuts through the fugue of whatever drug Kuruo has supplied Peizhi to keep him in a constant state of delirium and dreaming.

They've been travelling for days. Shulin has been asleep for about as many of them.

Consciousness is a slipper eel that stays out of reach for the most parts. Whenever he tries to recall how he even got here, all that comes to him are the flashes of red mist, the scent of night blooms, an ache that cuts through his bones, and then.

Here. In this rocking carriage that makes him faintly nauseous, with his two lovers - former? Shulin really cannot say - as they escort him to distant lands.

Mowen's throat bobs. Probably swallowing back whatever is on his mind. Shulin laughs at the thought that Mowen is restraining himself because of him.

Lolling his head to the side, he squints up at the sudden sunlight in his eyes. Blinking sluggishly, he waits until his vision adjusts. Waits until the silhouette of Peizhi's form against the window materialises in his sight.

"I've lost," Shulin croaks. "If you, either of you, ever loved me, then kill me. I'm--"

"Shut up!"

Mowen pulls him back, chains and all and for a brief moment, Shulin thinks he will slide a blade between his ribs. Letting it find a home close to his heart. It would be fitting and it would be the least that he could do.

"No one is killing you," Mowen says, pulling him close to his chest with a gentleness Shulin isn't sure he deserves in the slightest. "We won't let them. We won't let you either."

Obediently following when Mowen tips his head back, lovingly coaxing his lips to part so that he can feed him Kuruo's concoction, Shulin knows, knows without a shadow of a doubt in his heart that Mowen won't force him if he chooses to close his mouth right now.

If he refuses to drink this, refuses to play along as they take him to whatever distant cage they have constructed to contain him, Shulin wonders with no small amount of interest about what they would do.

He parts his lips on a pant, blinking slowly as he swallows.

Whatever they have planned, Shulin wants to be part of it.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: All You Knead is Loaf (Mowen x Lan Jue x Zhang Ping;Modern AU, PWP)

A/N: Because @xinxiaojie​ was kind enough to send me this picture at five minutes to two in the am and thus fed the thirst. It is now sober hours. And you get a new fic. Yay us.

I don’t know how spicy these lemons are for you, but. Yeah. 

Spicy Lemons ahoy 🌶️🍋 (for those uninitiated on the unholy ways of this blog, “spicy lemons” or 🌶️🍋 mean pR0n) ENJOY YAAHAHAHHA I’m running on four hours of sleep here soz soz

[still accepting ALoN fic prompts]

~*~*~*~

The kitchen is an absolute mess. Someone’s upended a bag of flour on the floor and Zhang Ping thinks he spies traces of an egg on their pristine ceiling. In the fuzzy reaches of his mind, he feels a desperate draw to check on the oven, but none of that matters as much when Mowen’s crooking his stupidly beefy fingers, catching them against his prostate with a divine efficiency that only his lover can do.

“That good, huh?”

The smug bastard has the audacity to chuckle, not even a whit out of breath or gasping even as he’s fucking Peizhi on their kitchen counter through the throes of his orgasm. 

Pale skin flushed, beautiful face slack, mouth parted and panting, Zhang Ping delights in the way he is undone by the pleasure that paints his belly in pretty ribbons of pearlescent.

“Pretty Ping’er,” Mowen drawls sweetly. Zhang Ping watches under his lashes when he pulls his come coated cock out of a weakly protesting Peizhi. Still hard, he grips it by the base, nudging it to the back of Zhang Ping’s thigh, smearing the mess on his skin. 

Then, as if a sudden thought occurs to him, Mowen asks, voice quiet and earnest in a shift from just a second ago. “Can I?”

There’s a certain truth to the way the three of them loves - Zhang Ping shows it in every meal he makes and every way he does to make their life together as comfortable as he can, Peizhi provides and gives and protects them in every shade he can cast with his abilities. And Mowen, their darling, brash and confident man, catches them both when they fall, asking for very little in return but these small moments where he is laid bare for them. 

They complete and complement each other.

So, what is Zhang Ping to say other than a contented, “Yes, of course.”

Mowen moves his fingers out of Zhang Ping’s ass. He hisses at the discomfort, but rolls his waist into the grip of Mowen’s hands, racking his own digits through his hair to anchor himself at the blunt press of Mowen’s cock at his hole. “Don’t tease,” He says, working for stern, coming out more like a whine.

“He’s a bad, bad man, isn’t he, Ping’er?”

Peizhi’s hoarse laughter has him tilting his face. Eyes crinkled with tired amusement, he leans in, “C’mere. Kiss me.”

And so, Zhang Ping does.

Allows Peizhi take the lead, blinking sluggishly when a cockhead becomes the sensation of more and then some. He thinks he cries a little when Mowen, without being told to, fucks him to the rhythm of his rapid beating heart. 

“So good. So perfect just for me, just for us,” Mowen purrs over the dirty, sloppy slap of their skin. Zhang Ping thinks his brain shorts out at the way he fills him up, legs shaking as he tries to keep his balance. “Beautiful Ping’er...”

He hums into Peizhi’s mouth, moaning a little when the man licks right back into his own. He feels fucked dumb. It feels like heaven.

“One day, we’ll have Mowen fuck you while I’m riding your cock,” Peizhi murmurs around a smile pressed to the corner of Zhang Ping’s mouth, tongue dragging through the thin line of drool that escapes him. “How does that sound?”

The picture of them doing just that slithers into whatever last braincells he has left to rub together. And it undoes him.

When he comes to, the suspicious stain on the ceiling is what greets him. Definitely egg. Zhang Ping giggles at the realisation. Right before another hits him like a tonne of bricks. 

“The cookies!” 

[randomingoftherandomness]

(Mowen x Lan Jue x Zhang Ping) Mowen: I'm bored, let's go do something. Zhang Ping: Did Lan-daren do something to piss you off again?

This one became a little more Mowen x Zhang Ping than anything hahah I can't find it within myself to regret it tho. Hope you like this!

~*~*~*~

He leaves him be until the second bowl of watery dough knocks against his elbow. An intervention is needed, Zhang Ping decides, taking a deep breath to brush off the flour on his hands.

"Are you going to compensate me for the ingredients you're wasting?"

Mowen startles mid-crack of an egg, eyes blinking owlishly at him. Pursing his lips, he frowns, nose scrunched in a way that Zhang Ping will forever deny sets off a flurry of butterflies in his belly.

"I'm bored," Mowen declares almost imperiously a beat later. There's a thread of anticipation in his voice when he follows it up with a lilting, "Let's go do something."

Bravely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and barely just succeeding, Zhang Ping carefully takes the bowl from Mowen, setting it aside and gently taking a cloth to wipe down his hands.

"Did Lan-daren do something to piss you off again?" He asks, fingertips caressing the back of Mowen's hands. Smiling gently under the gaze he receives, he trails his thumb over a pulse point. "Don't deny it. You're terrible at hiding your true emotions when it comes to him."

Mowen harumphs, but doesn't move away. If anything, he shuffles closer, knocking their knees together. "It's not just him, you know?"

"If you mean to say that I may be jealous because you think you are both closer together than you are with me, please don't be," Zhang Ping chuckles, letting a little bit of his weight be supported by Mowen. "You both had a life together even before I entered the picture. It's only natural you are much familiar with his moods and fancies. I'm content to play catch-up with you."

"Be that as it may," Mowen starts, twisting his hand in Zhang Ping's to hold on to a slender wrist. "We never want to make you feel left out when it comes to us. Because you're part of us now, even if sometimes you may not feel like it."

Zhang Ping smiles, lifting his eyes. "You're side-stepping the question here, Wang-daren. Did Lan-daren do something to piss you off again?"

Mowen sighs, pulling him in until their hips are knocking against the corner of the kitchen table. "Sometimes I hate that your mind spins in a hundred ways that I can't follow sometimes."

"And so?"

Mowen smiles, darting in to slide their lips together and nipping gently. "Yeah. He said something stupid at court today and I just..."

"Am annoyed?"

"Mn."

"Frustrated."

"Mmhm

"Perhaps a little...?"

"Don't be cheeky, it doesn't suit you," Mowen tuts, affecting a mock affronted glare. There's no heat in his words, nothing but a fondness that cuts Zhang Ping deep in his chest. He's lucky, he knows that. Lucky to be loved by this man and the man he's a little annoyed at.

"Shall we go do something fun to surprise him when he comes home?"

Mowen cocks an eyebrow, his smile dipping into a slow grin with his teeth showing conspiratorially. "What do you have in mind?"

Zhang Ping laughs. "I have a few things I can show you. Have you ever read the Kama Sutra?"

[Am currently still accepting ALoN prompts]

[randomingoftherandomness]

Wang Yao x Lan Jue

The first meeting after the war, and the promised meal.

Hi friend! Thank you for the prompt. I'm assuming you mean Wang Yan and not Wang Yao? (ง ื▿ ื)ว In any case! Enjoy! This one may have taken a life of its own haha

[Currently still accepting ALoN Fic Prompts]

~*~*~*~

"I would have been equally as happy to have this meal at your house."

Peizhi merely smiles in response, gaze darting across the table to spy at the way Mowen is lazily fanning himself while watching the serving girls artfully arrange the first round of their dishes for this evening.

Hiding the way his lips twitch in quiet amusement, he takes a deep sip of his cup of tea.

"I made a promise that I intended to keep, Mowen," Peizhi says gently when the girls bow, moving on delicate footsteps to retreat from their room. "A meal to celebrate your victory."

Mowen huffs, rolling his eyes. "Please stop. It's as if you don't already know that the threshold of my father's residence has almost been worn down by all those grateful families looking to hitch their daughters, sisters, or some such to me."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Mowen parts his lips, eyes wide as if this, of all the insanities and terrors that Peizhi has ever spouted, is the one thing he has never expected to come out of him.

Peizhi expects him to respond in his typical bluster. To reply with some dismissive comment or another about how men like him need to be picky about who they choose as their partner, to wave away his comment with a laugh and a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Instead, Mowen closes his mouth, pursing his lips and says nothing.

Peizhi sighs, moving to refill Mowen's empty cup. "I can do that," Mowen says shortly, taking the teapot away and topping up his cup himself.

Watching him as he takes the practised motions of ladling out a bowl of soup for Peizhi, placing the best cuts of meat and vegetables on his plate before he even takes any for himself, Peizhi is struck with a sense of forlorn at the singular realisation that, ah, I've made him mad.

"Mowen-ah..."

"Eat," Mowen says curtly. "Eat up."

Heart thudding in his chest, twisting just that bit painfully, Peizhi plucks up his own chopsticks to do as he is told.

Mowen does not say anything and Peizhi feels, for the very first time in the hours and days and months and years they've shared together, lost.

"I didn't mean to offend you," He tries when the silence drags on. "You know I do not mean--"

"You meant what you said, Peizhi," Mowen interrupts, gaze kept low. "Don't disrespect yourself or me by telling me that you didn't mean to say what you said."

The unspoken, do not disrespect us and everything we have shared hangs heavy in the air, and Peizhi is seized by a shame that chokes him from the inside out.

Because it is true. He has meant every word he has ever said when it came to them. Every shred of honesty shared in the midnight hours when there was nothing between them but the night air and the tangle of their hairs on brocade pillow. Every single unspooled tenderness on love-marked skin, every decadent secret told only in kisses and breaths brushing against cheek and jaw.

Peizhi has always meant it.

Which is why he has to make Mowen understand.

"Do you truly believe it does not hurt to hear about how one family after another has attempted to marry their girls off to you? Do you truly think that my heart is that fickle when it comes to you?"

Mowen looks up at him. The corner of his eyes tinged with red, brown eyes dark with hurt.

"I find that I know you less and less," He answers. "Our first meeting since I came back, and you're trying to marry me off. My lover whom I've not seen for many months, the same one I've fought life and limb to come back to, is the one person I did not expect would try to do that."

Guilt holds Peizhi by the throat.

Abandoning his seat, he crosses over to Mowen, letting out an unbidden cry when he is welcomed into strong arms with no resistance. Somewhere outside their little private room, someone laughs. There's a floating note of music. It's neither the time nor place for them to be doing this, but Peizhi cannot bring himself to care.

It's too public a place for a final surrender, and yet, Peizhi cannot think of a better setting.

"Forgive me," He begs, pressing a kiss to Mowen's temple. Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply. Lets Mowen tangles his hands in his robes. Allows himself to be moved to straddle Mowen's lap.

"Do you really want me to marry someone else?"

Peizhi does not hesitate to shake his head. Keeping his eyes fixed on Mowen, he shakes his head again as he cups the sides of his neck. "No. Never."

"Then please," Mowen whispers. "Please never say that to me again. Even if the Emperor himself commanded me to, I won't marry anyone. In this life, I'll only ever have you."

Heart caught between sadness and elation, Peizhi, presses their brows together. Synching their breaths, he lets Mowen lay him down on his back. Lets the air in his lungs be stolen by kisses and drowns in the familiar weight of Mowen's body finally pressing on his own.

Fingertips caress his cheek. Peizhi nuzzles into sword-calloused palm. "We should have had this dinner at home."

"Now you know," Mowen scoffs, leaning in to kiss the corner of his smile. "Haven't seen you in months and you drag me out for dinner when we could be having the same meal in bed."

"In bed?"

"In bed," Mowen confirms, pulling back, and taking Peizhi with him as he goes. "Half naked with me feeding you."

Peizhi bites back the chuckle that threatens to escape him.

He straightens his clothes and looks over the dishes while Mowen does the same for his own. Presentable enough or not, it really doesn't matter, he'll make sure that Xu Dong picks them up via the back door. Maybe he can get the servers to pack this up for tomorrow's meal.

"I'll be going to pick Lan Hui up in a fortnight to come to live at Lan Manor again."

"That's good, I think he'd be happy to be home again," Mowen answers, reaching over easily to redo his crown with practised ease.

Reaching up to wrap a hand around Mowen's wrist, he says, "Come with me."

"What? Are you so eager to announce to your son that I've finally made an honest man of you?"

Peizhi lets loose a short bark of laughter, leaning into him. "No, I want to tell him that I'm taking him home and surround him with family again. And I want you there when I do it."

Mowen raises an eyebrow before teasingly asking, "And you want to tell him you've gotten him a new stepmother? Is that why you want me to be there? Should I dress in some women's things? I think I could pass for a pretty woman if Lan Hui's eyesight is a bit shot from all the reading you make him do."

"Rascal," Peizhi chides, moving aside to call for a server. After he relays his orders, he turns back to Mowen, drinking in the sight of him. "Though I would need to pay an astronomical dowry for your hand in marriage, I would do it. Just so that I can see you in a dress."

Mowen's laughter rings loud and happy in the room. When he closes the distance between them, he eyes up the door before sneaking in a quick peck to Peizhi's cheek. "Even in a dress, I'll still have my Lan-daren under me, panting and aching for me and only me."

A frisson of desire starbursts up his spine at the timbre of Mowen's voice and the dancing of his breath on Peizhi's heated skin. Eyes fluttering open, he swallows tightly. "Check on the server and tell him to hurry up."

Dark eyes flicker over his face, glinting with mischief. "Whatever my husband asks of me," Mowen purrs in reply.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Hello! If it's alright, I would like to put in a request for a fic > Zhang Ping x Lan Jue. The prompt is they had a big fight and Zhang Ping went home looking like a kicked puppy. Lan Jue after a few days decided to coax and apologize to Zhang Ping because he realized they might break-up the longer their fight goes. The rest is up to you!

Thank you so much and I hope you have a good day!

"Stubborn!"

"Mm."

"A hotheaded fool..."

"Of course, Daren."

"Incorrigible--"

"Would these be enough or should I empty out the stores again?" Xu Dong flourishes his hand. Peizhi snaps his mouth shut and flicks his sleeves back.

There are five baskets of produce, two bolts of fabric suitable for Zhang Ping and someone in his station, three jars of fine southern wine, a new set of ivory-handled writing brushes, two boxes of rare books from Lan Jue's own personal collection, and perhaps most importantly, a custom made set of cooking knives.

Frowning, he purses his lips. "Go to the chestnut seller and buy a pack of freshly roasted ones."

Peizhi thinks he sees Xu Dong's left eye twitch at his order, even as he bows and leaves to carry out his errand. "A donkey," He mutters, pouring out a fresh cup of tea. "I'm in love with an absolute donkey."

Zhang Ping is living in better conditions these days, which, for Lan Jue is still not as good as having him actually stay in Lan Manor. It isn't as if he hasn't offered him a place, if anything he had to practically tie him down just to get him to stay during those nights their discussions and meandering thoughts take a deeper, more physical touch.

Of course, when he complains about this, Mowen merely laughs at him and his woes.

"You made your bed," Mowen had managed between bouts of roaring laughter. "You can lay in it too."

This is to say, no one can understand why he is so truly determined to keep Zhang Ping by his side in the scant few months before he has to leave for Yiping County.

Peizhi tries not to think about how hurt Zhang Ping had looked when he rebutted something he said with a scoffed, "Of course you wouldn't know where your home is, you don't have one!"

That had been that. Zhang Ping had sucked in a breath, asking with a quiet voice and brown eyes that are sheened over with an emotion that was more than sadness, "Is that what you truly believe?"

And a good week has passed since he last saw Zhang Ping. Not a hair nor sight of his harried tail for one good week.

One whole week wasted being apart when they could just be...

The ache in his stomach returns with a twist, tugging in deep. Tamping down his annoyance at himself, he exhales slowly, gritting his teeth.

Looking up, he can spy the golden tops of the imperial palace glimmering in the noonday sun. Urgency burns bright in his bones. Wasting time, they're all just wasting time, and there is nothing Peizhi can do to stop the turning of the hours.

Helplessness bleeds through. Sinking its claws into his chest. He, Lan Jue, won't beg for anything from anyone but the thought that this ego could be the reason they could part without a second glance or another word, even as friends, even as strangers...

The ache in his core hollows him out and he gasps, gripping the corner of his table as a wave of lightheadedness washes over him.

Someone pushes him to a more relaxed position, and distantly Peizhi hears a familiar, gentle sigh next to his ear. "What have you been working yourself up on again?"

"Zhang Ping?"

His lover casts him a look from the corner of his eyes. Peizhi is so engrossed with drinking in the sight of him, the warmth of his body so close to him, the way he smells like the market and home all at once, that he completely misses the steaming bowl of noodles being placed in front of him.

"You haven't been eating. Xu Dong told me."

Someone is getting his pay docked next month.

"He's been telling tall tales," Peizhi grumbles, but not refusing the pair of chopsticks being pressed into his hand. Quickly, his other hand darts out to grab Zhang Ping by the wrist, refusing to let him go too far. "Don't..."

He snaps his mouth shut, turning his face away. But before he can let go, Zhang Ping turns his hand, sliding their palms together. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry."

Peizhi lets him fuss, serving him tea until he took his first bite of the food Zhang Ping brought with him. "Lan-daren, I want you to listen to me," Zhang Ping says after a moment of silence. "Alright?"

"Zhang Ping..."

"I know you have me in your heart, that's why you've been restless these last few weeks," Zhang Ping starts with a small smile. "You keep begging me to stay, you've tried every means in your book to keep me by your side every time. I know that you have been anxious about my impending departure for Yiping County, but Daren, I am too."

Peizhi sets his chopstick down, reaching for Zhang Ping's hand. "If you knew, if you feel the same way, then why...?"

"Because I thought that if I could still keep this small distance, if I could just... Keep you at a distance, then maybe, when we have to part, it won't..."

"It won't?"

Zhang Ping leans in, knocking their brows together. "It won't hurt as bad as I know it will."

Peizhi surrenders, then. Leans in and wraps himself around Zhang Ping. Lets strong arms hold him tightly and clings on. "I won't tell you to stay, you know that."

"I do."

"I won't do anything that will impede your ambitions."

Zhang Ping's soft huff of amusement tickles at the curve of his jaw. "I know that."

"But until you have to leave, can you please just stay?" Peizhi whispers, tilting his head, brushing his lips to the bare skin of Zhang Ping's neck. "Please. For me, just do this for me."

Zhang Ping's quiet, "Mn" is everything encapsulated into a singular syllable. And with that, a knot in his heart seems to unravel. Burying himself tighter against Zhang Ping, Peizhi hides the joy he feels, pressing his smile onto a clothed shoulder.

Later, and later still, when all that covers their bare skins is the wash of silver moonlight and the warm night air, Peizhi luxuriates in the feeling of Zhang Ping's fingers carding through his hair.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

"Which part?" Zhang Ping teases, grunting a burst of laughter when Peizhi bites at his arm in retaliation.

Pulling him back to his side, Zhang Ping runs his clever fingers down the line of his spine.

"If you mean to be apologising for what you said the other day about me not having a home, then I should also apologise."

Puzzled, Peizhi shifts himself to look into Zhang Ping's warm and fond eyes, waiting for him to continue. "I was hurt, yes. But more than that, I was disappointed in myself."

"Disappointed?"

"Disappointed, yes." His beloved smiles wryly. Gentle fingertips brush over Peizhi's cheek, settling his touch on the side of his head. "Disappointed in me that I ever made you doubt that you are my home."

A wave of sudden affection cinches itself around his throat, leaving Peizhi breathless, struck dumb at the confession.

Zhang Ping shuffles closer, snuggling into Peizhi. "I know you haven't promised me anything, but in a few years, once the roots of the Empress Dowager's influence have been cleared out, I'll come back to you. And when I do, let's live together. In a house with two studies and a room for both our books. We can have a garden and a place where we can keep a few fish. At night, we can watch the moon together on the veranda. We can be together."

With a hand to Peizhi's chest, he whispers, "Alright?"

Quickly turning his face into the pillow, Peizhi breathes in deep over the prickle of emotion clogging his throat. Not that there was any doubt in the wet sniffles colouring the night silence between them, but Zhang Ping allows him this, moving in for gentle kisses to his temple.

"Have you been eating candies? Since when did your mouth become so sweet?" Peizhi grouses. Pulling Zhang Ping tightly to him, he nods, cheek to warm skin. "A gentleman never goes back on his promise. So you must remember this."

Zhang Ping's laughter in his ear is as good as the sweetest melodies plucked by the most talented musicians. Tangling their bodies together once more, Peizhi smiles when Zhang Ping says, "Of course. I'll need to come home to you after all."

[send me an ALoN prompt!]

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: I wanna race you to the table

Pairing: Wan Yan (Mowen) x Zhang Ping; background Wang Yan (Mowen) x Lan Jue (Peizhi) x Zhang Ping

The image of this took root in my brain and I couldn't stop flirting with the idea of it. Hope you guys like it :) it’s a whole brain rot circus up here

🌶️🍋 ahead

Tagging @moononmyfloor @xinxiaojie @sarah-yyy

[still accepting ALoN prompts]

~*~*~*~

Mowen watches the stream flow under Peizhi’s tea kettle stove. A ridiculous design, Mowen remembers telling Peizhi when he first had it installed, only for the man to sputter and expound on the importance of aesthetics and beauty. 

He’s a rough man, Mowen is. And so he had merely chuckled and let him prattle on about how tea making requires more than just hot water and tea leaves, but also a good environment and good company.

Now, as he delights in taste of fine tea on his tongue, Mowen basks in the touch of warm sunlight on his bare chest, sighing comfortably when he feels the weight between his thighs shift.

“Ping’er, remember to watch your teeth.”

Zhang Ping huffs around the girth of his cock in his mouth, pulling off with a wet pop just to grumble, “I know.” Mowen laughs a little at the sight of him -- determined gaze looking up at him, lips a kiss-bitten red and slick with spit and pre-come, high cheekbones tinged a pretty pink that spreads all the way down to his chest. 

His own desire hangs thick and heavy between his thighs. Mowen’s mouth salivates at the thought of having a taste of it.

Maybe he could. Maybe they could even replicate the position from last night where he was sucking off Peizhi while he was doing the same to Mowen, all while their Ping’er was furiously jerking himself off to the sight of them. 

Briefly, in some lust tickled part of his brain that is still able to wrestle two shakes of thought together, he reckons that it would be fun to see Peizhi unravel under Zhang Ping’s studious hands.

“I know you know,” Mowen softly coaxes, curling his fingers through Zhang Ping’s hair. Peizhi’s care of their little lover is clear here. Soft, shiny strands slips between his thumb and index fingers, flowing like fine silk. Reaching over, he traces the fullness of Zhang Ping’s cheek, mapping a trail up to the curl of an ear. 

Ping’er shifts, nudging his shoulders further up under Mowen’s thighs. “I’ve read the books, I’ve paid attention to you and Lan-daren when you showed it to me,” He starts to say. “I-I...”

“You don’t have to justify or explain,” Mowen smiles. 

Taking pity at their lover, he pushes himself up onto his elbow, tugging Zhang Ping close for a soft peck that quickly devolves into something filthy when the hand around the base of his cock squeezes at the stimulation Mowen licks into Zhang Ping’s panting mouth chasing the taste of himself. 

“So adorable and all ours,” He can’t resist cooing.

Zhang Ping god to honest whines at that. Which does not help his arousal one bit. 

“Puppy,” Mowen purrs, leans back down, appreciating the way that nickname has Zhang Ping trembling with soft puffs of air escaping his parted lips. “My good puppy.”

Big eyes dilate black. So dark that Mowen thinks he could drown in their depths for all eternity and be contented to that fate. 

When Zhang Ping finally takes him back into his mouth, choking a little but enough that Mowen bends to the instinct to pull out so that he doesn’t hurt him, he turns his determined gaze back up to Mowen even as Zhang Ping’s own arousal twitches between against his hip, leaking a thin river of come that smears against skin when he moves.

He stills himself and lets Zhang Ping take the lead. Allows him to draw a rhythm that soon has his cock head bumping into the inside of his cheek. Surrenders to the way Zhang Ping’s eyes flutters close, savouring the sensation of their little lover bringing him off with his mouth and hand. 

Mowen parts his thighs, letting Zhang Ping whimper around his cock when he hooks his calves over his back, lazily rubbing the sole of his foot to the arch of a spine.

“Kuruo,” Mowen hums, smirking when the whimper drags into a clicking swallow. The thin shoulders nudging under his thighs shake. He can’t resist the urge to pinch at the shell of an ear. “Kuruo, pretty Kuruo. Our Kuruo.”

The hand on the jut of his hip squeezes. And that’s all the warning he has to know that Zhang Ping has come untouched, making a mess on Peizhi’s shiny dark floorboards in the middle of the day.

Mowen laughs softly, pushing himself further up so that he can take his turn. Gently, he urges Zhang Ping to release him from his mouth, almost giving in to just staying there like this when their little lover gives a weak protesting suck. “Be good, hm?”

The shock of a cooler temperature than that of the heat of Zhang Ping’s mouth has him hissing and dark eyes blinking slowly up at him, a thread of worry beginning to furrow at his brow. “I’m alright,” He assures him, looking around to pull one of their discarded things close enough to carefully wipe down any mess on Zhang Ping’s skin.

“You haven’t...?”

“Hm?” It takes Mowen a beat to realise. His cock is still hard, not even flagging as it slaps against his lower abdomen. Ah, this is an issue. No matter, Mowen thinks. He can just--

“Here,” Zhang Ping slurs, twisting his body lazily so that he can lay on his front, presenting his ass to him. Glazed eyes twinkle when they look back at him. There’s a gentle smile on his lips. Mowen doesn’t know how he ever got so lucky in this lifetime.

Leaning over him to blanket his body, Mowen moves to angle his cock between the plush mounds of Zhang Ping’s ass. Breathing in deeply, he nuzzles his nose into the crook of Zhang Ping’s shoulder. Hiding an indisputably happy grin. “Perfectly puppy.”

[randomingoftherandomness]

ALoN prompt: Peizhi x Shulin; what ends up to be their very last time together.

Not gonna lie, writing this prompt gave me mad Hozier vibes but that could just be me celebrating the return of the Bog Prince (all hail)

Stream 'Eat Your Young' (♡-_-♡)

[currently still accepting ALoN prompts]

tw: dub-con, (and in my mind at least, lan jue x mowen x zhang ping)

~*~*~*~

Hunger colours the shadows on Shulin's face. The dancing candlelight sweeps and dust over his brow, the bridge of his nose, and the parted pink of his lips. Like shivers of molten gold that keep him illuminated for slivers of seconds.

Peizhi prays that for all he is laid bare to this man, there are still facets of his soul that aren't so intertwined with Shulin's that there are secrets he can hold onto as his own.

"Peizhi." Fingers press their mark into the flesh of his hips. The pressure, the weight, the sense of belonging so achingly familiar that he can't cage the soft moan that rattles loose from his chest.

In a different life, in a different time, when he was far more ignorant about the ways of the world, this would be the moment he surrenders to Shulin. Body, soul, heart, they were his first before they were anyone else's.

Closing his eyes against the tidal wave of emotions in him, he sucks in a breath.

Here in the now, the hands on his skin aren't the ones he wants. In this moment, warm from their shared body heat, naked with Shulin on him, between his thighs, pressing down on him in distinct ways that he cannot deny who is sharing his bed tonight, he aches to be anywhere but here.

And if the shudder that lances through him gives Shulin the illusion that he is still his, Peizhi can swallow down his basic instincts to run and cast his mind to memories of different nights under different hands.

He'll pretend. Just for tonight. For the sake of saving lives.

[randomingoftherandomness]

There’s a dearth of fics in the ALoN tag, and I’ve been ranting to @genderqueernerd and @aozu about wanting to write fics for this fandom so I guess...

Asks are open for A League of Nobleman fic requests. Anon is on, so... go ham? I’m okay to write for Lan Jue x Mowen, Lan Jue x Zhang Ping, Mowen x Lan Jue x Zhang Ping, Mowen x Lan Jue x Shulin x Zhang Ping 

☆:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:☆

I am of the YKINMKATO mentality and I don’t have much squicks, so just toss your fic prompts in the ask box and we’ll see where we go from there ∑d(°∀°d)

Drop Me A Fic Prompt