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eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 months ago

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Relieve My Mind

The Waves Are Rising and Rising Extra Scene #9

Chapter 1/2

If y'all noticed a distinct lack of Lan Xichen's POV in these extras, so did we, so we decided to fix it ❤

--//--

It's some small mercy, though the others don't know it, that Lan Qiren was elected by the council of the clan’s respected elders to inform his nephew of their expectations for the future of the sect.

In the end, it hadn't actually required him to make a case for himself. As Lan Xichen's uncle and the former Acting Sect Leader, it of course makes the most sense that he be the bridge between his nephew — as the Sect Leader, specifically — and the elders of the sect, when the issue is of such delicacy. He would have insisted on being the one to deliver the news, of course, had it become an argument, but he's quite glad that it hadn't.

He steps out of the hall where the elders meet to discuss the private business of the sect, and he takes a deep breath in of fresh, clear air. It always seems like he must either hear or bear bad news on beautiful days. The day that his brother entered seclusion, the magnolia tree outside the library had bloomed seemingly overnight, and while Lan Qiren was admiring the beauty of the fragrant blooms, an elder had found him to inform him of his new status, and the reason for it. The day the Wens sacked Cloud Recesses had dawned sweet and clear, a perfect morning for meditation and peaceful reflection. Today the sun is warm on his face and birds are singing somewhere near enough to appreciate without becoming overly invasive, and Lan Qiren at least takes a moment to soak it in before he turns his steps towards his office.

Lan Xichen joins him there before the tea is finished brewing, smiling kindly as he dismisses the disciple Lan Qiren had sent to fetch him, and continuing to do so as he joins Lan Qiren at the table.

"Shufu," he greets, bowing just as Lan Qiren had taught him as a boy.

"Xichen."

Lan Xichen sits down gracefully across from him, arranging his sleeves just so in the way that he always has, a particular little flick of his wrist that Lan Qiren wonders if he even realises he does. He fixates somewhat on that detail, that idle musing, and allows himself the distraction for as long as it takes to brew the tea. His nephew is patient, sitting calmly as he waits in companionable silence until propriety dictates he move to pour for his elder, which he does with faultless precision and grace.

Lan Qiren doesn’t feel it’s undue to be proud of the man his nephew has become. He leads well and fairly; he’s respected across the entire jianghu as a man of upstanding moral character; during the war he earned a reputation as a beacon of hope and victory, a single man who could turn the tide of battle and ensure the smallest loss of life possible.

His study of his nephew stops at his hair. At a signal everyone else in the Sect couldn’t understand, he began wearing it in the style of a married man, with a single braid integrated discreetly into it and a single golden pin stuck through it much less discreetly.

Lan Qiren had allowed it; Lan Wangji had come to him with quiet but firm arguments as to why he should allow Lan Xichen a ribbon ceremony with his sworn brothers, and apparently Wei Wuxian had concocted arguments of his own as well, should Lan Wangji’s fail. (Lan Qiren was going to allow it anyway, but such a threat would have ensured it, as he’s sure Lan Wangji was well aware.)

Now, though, the Sect is beginning to ask questions that must be answered, and Lan Qiren must be the one to ensure his nephew is equipped to do so.

“Are you well, Shufu?” Lan Xichen asks, all gentle concern.

“Mn. I have had a meeting with the rest of the elders.” Best to get it over with, he thinks.

“Yes, I was informed they called a council. What guidance will they offer?”

Lan Qiren allows himself one more indulgent moment of distraction with a sip of his tea, whose quality demands a moment of appreciation. After that, though, there’s no other way to avoid what must be done.

“They — we — must ask our Sect Leader to thoughtfully consider the issue of a marriage from which a Sect heir may be produced.”

Lan Xichen goes very, very still, and Lan Qiren’s heart aches for him.

“…Marriage.”

“You are of marriageable age, Xichen,” Lan Qiren reminds his nephew. “It is not an unreasonable concern. You must have an heir.”

“Yes, I…yes, of course,” Xichen begins, halting in a way he never is. Lan Qiren knows him far too well not to see the desire to argue in the tense set of his shoulders, just as he knows him too well not to know that this will be one of the rare occasions he follows through on that desire.

Despite knowing that an argument is inevitable, Lan Qiren feels compelled to remind him, “You have always known this to be an inevitable part of your duties, Xichen.”

“Yes,” he repeats, but it’s clear he’s barely aware of what he’s saying. “But Shufu, you know I…”

Lan Qiren clears his throat and resists the rare urge to fidget in the wake of his nephew’s plaintive beginning. He doesn’t seem able to continue, but then again he doesn’t have to.

He just has to hope his nephew knows him well enough to hear the sympathy layered under his usual even tone as he replies, “I know, Xichen. I know that you care deeply for your sworn brothers-” it’s woefully inadequate for what he knows Lan Xichen feels for them, but saying he loves them won’t be of any help, “-but you all know that your sects must come first, and the Lan Sect needs an heir. I know you, and I know that you will not leave this responsibility to Wangji.” (Not least of which because it isn’t as if Lan Wangji is about to jump at the chance to marry and bed a woman either, but someone must do it and so here they are.)

Lan Xichen glances up from his dedicated study of the table between them with sudden hope flashing in his eyes. “Perhaps I could — Wangji has practically adopted little Wen Yuan and the boy is doing quite well in all of his classes-”

Lan Qiren can’t quite keep the horror off his face or out of his voice, “A Wen?! You wish for me to report back to the elders that, due to a reason I cannot divulge, you would make your heir a Wen, a child being raised by Wens, when we are not yet even certain he will perform well enough to live in the disciple dormitories when he comes of age? Xichen, be sensible!” Lan Xichen flinches and Lan Qiren at least makes an attempt at softening his tone despite the anxious knot beginning to form somewhere behind his sternum. “Wen Yuan is a good boy and I understand he does well in his studies. Under other circumstances I may have considered it, in deference to your feelings for your sworn brothers. However, things being as they are, the elders would never allow it — they barely allowed him to become a disciple, Xichen, and it hardly matters that he’s not of the main bloodline. You expect them to forget which name bears the sin of burning the Cloud Recesses?”

The hopeful light in Lan Xichen’s eyes dims again; it aches to be the reason his nephew looks so defeated, but this course of action is for the best. Lan Qiren has never shied away from the more painful parts of the parenthood that was thrust upon him due to his brother’s callous disregard for every duty expected of him to fulfil, and it’s important now more than ever that he makes sure the pain and hard work they’ve all endured will be worth it. The rebuilt Lan Sect must continue, they must be strong as the next generation begins to take root and flourish in their traditions — they must.

“Wangji and Wuxian may still-”

“Xichen! Will you truly see this legacy of your father’s continued?!” Lan Qiren knows logically that he shouldn’t respond so harshly when his nephew is hurting, but panic has sunk its claws into his chest and he can’t seem to stop himself. “I will not see you burden your brother with the duties you were born to simply because of an overabundance of inappropriate feelings! Your sworn brothers must be no more than that, and no less. You must do what is right for the Sect, and I know your…companions will understand. Perhaps you will find a woman who understands your desire to keep them close, but the elders expect you to heed their request — I will do everything I can to buy you time to decide how you will go about this, but they will not allow themselves to be distracted for much longer.

“...Do not think me unsympathetic, Xichen. I know Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are important to you. I am not ordering you to remove them from your life completely; I only wish to urge you to remember your duties to your Sect and your family, and to remember that we agreed years ago that your…‘marriage’ with them could never have been expected to last forever.”

Lan Qiren forces himself to meet his nephew’s tear-filled gaze and give him no quarter. For a long moment it seems that Lan Xichen will continue to argue that his inconvenient love must be accommodated no matter what is expected of him in direct defiance of the rules and traditions of the Sect, but he eventually closes his eyes and presses his lips into a tight line, conceding to the inevitable with as much grace as he has left.

“I understand,” he says, calm and cool. “This one thanks Shufu for his wisdom.”

Lan Xichen stands and bows, departing without another word. Lan Qiren can’t help but notice the single tear glittering on one jade-pale cheek as Lan Xichen leaves, and though he knows he should feel satisfied that he’s managed to turn his nephew back to the correct path after an indulgent few years, the ‘victory’ feels terribly hollow.

–//–

Lan Xichen feels the tiny jolt in his qi that tells him that Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao have used their jade tokens to cross the Cloud Recesses wards, and even through the pervading misery lingering around him like the clouds around his mountain home, he feels the evergreen spark of joy and excitement at the prospect of seeing his husbands-

No. He should… he should stop thinking of them like that. He should relinquish that now and get used to the lack of it. Better to make it a clean break.

His sworn brothers, then. A married man may still be allowed that. His sworn brothers are here to see him, on a visit that was organised on the heels of the last time they were together, so as they make their way along the walkways and paths towards the hanshi in the misty dusk, they are both utterly unaware of what awaits them.

Lan Xichen feels a little guilty about that, allowing them to be so utterly ambushed, but how could he possibly explain the whole miserable business just through a letter? It wouldn’t be fair to any of them - and they’d both probably immediately hop on their swords to talk to him in person anyway. This is the least terrible way to have this conversation.

It's still pretty terrible.

By the time he hears the light rapping at the hanshi door, he has done his best to push all of his feelings deep, deep down, so that he feels as calm and cold as the jade of his moniker; it is a trick he learnt during the war, exorcising himself of emotion so that he may go out and do what must be done.

When he stands his legs do not shake. When he reaches for the door his hands do not tremble. When he opens it and sees the smiling faces of his hus- his sworn brothers, his eyes do not weep.

But when Jin Guangyao’s eyebrows immediately lower upon seeing his expression, and he asks, “Er-ge?” with the sweetest, most gentle concern, and Nie Mingjue makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat and reaches around Jin Guangyao to touch his shoulder, Lan Xichen almost breaks.

Almost.

“Please,” he chokes out, “come in.”

Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue follow him inside, both wary-eyed and tense and glancing between him and each other, looking for answers. The moment the door is closed behind them, Nie Mingjue is crowding into his space, taking him by the arms and peering into his eyes, as if the answers to his pain are written there.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“Da-ge, give him space!” Jin Guangyao scolds, tugging at both of their robes. “Er-ge, come, sit down, tell us what’s wrong.”

Lan Xichen walks numbly to the table and lowers himself to his knees. Even in his despair he keeps his posture upright; if he cannot have his loves, if he must sacrifice them to his duty, then he will at least have his dignity. He breathes in shakily, makes himself jade, then forces himself to meet their eyes as they settle opposite him around the table. They deserve this.

“The Lan elders have decreed that I must marry. Shufu agrees.”

Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao stare at him. “You are already married,” Nie Mingjue says, tone low and controlled but with a fierce edge of incredulity. Jin Guangyao’s hands have fisted in the skirts of his robes draped over his lap.

“In the eyes of the heavens, yes. But not in the eyes of society.”

“This is bullshit,” Nie Mingjue growls. “What did Qiren say?”

Jin Guangyao’s thick brows draw down in a rare display of open anger, “Your uncle was there for our Lan ribbon ceremony! He was a witness!”

“And it’s not like anyone else gives a shit - even the Jins have kept their mouths shut and god knows how bad the gossip is over there, even now.” Nie Mingjue ignores the frown Jin Guangyao shoots his way and raises up on his knees, slapping his hands down on the tea table, “Why would he put this on you when he knows-”

Jin Guangyao cuts in with a businesslike lack of preamble, seeing immediately to the heart of the politics, “What has prompted this from the elders? Is the Lan clan losing support from its subsidiaries, or has there been some sort of power struggle they want to resolve? Why now?”

“I believe it is my upcoming birthday that has prompted it. By my age, most sect leaders are already married, and the elders are beginning to question why I am not attending the matchmaker. And what can Shufu tell them - that I have decided to commit my life to two men, one of whom is another sect leader, in a relationship that can never be revealed to the public? I must take a spouse that can provide me with an heir.”

“You have an heir, do you not?” Jin Guangyao asks, “You have Wangji.”

“Wangji was my heir until he chose a marriage that could not bear a child - now, his branch of our bloodline will end with him.” Lan Xichen closes his eyes for a second, breathes out, then opens them again, “One of us must take a wife, and I will-” his breath hitches, “I will not do as our father did and abandon my responsibilities to my younger brother.”

The words hit his sworn brothers hard, knowing as they both do the complex depths of pain that Qingheng-jun’s choices have inflicted. Lan Xichen aches as he sees the moment the fight dies in Nie Mingjue’s eyes, the way his gaze flicks almost guiltily upwards, and then away when he sees Lan Xichen looking at him. Out of all of them, Nie Mingjue understands what it means for a sect leader to sacrifice themselves for duty. Out of all of them, Nie Mingjue knows. He swallows, throat bobbing in a way that Lan Xichen knows means he’s trying to swallow away tears, and then he nods.

This is something they knew was looming over them the whole time, something they all understood when they started discussing a formal commitment. It shouldn’t be a surprise - and yet, seeing the pained resignation in Nie Mingjue’s eyes, of anyone else in the world, feels like a physical blow to the gut.

Jin Guangyao must see Nie Mingjue’s feelings clearly too, as in response, he shrinks a little into himself, gaze flicking frantically between the two of them as a devastating kind of fear begins to grow in his wide dark eyes. In the last few years, it has been one of the greatest joys of Lan Xichen’s life to see this man shed the shroud of anxious, people-pleasing propriety and allow his real self to be seen as he learns to live in the assurance of safety, rather than constant threat. And now it is as if that shroud is reforming, the feelings Lan Xichen has grown used to seeing more or less clearly on his face retreating back behind the familiar mask that Nie Mingjue had hated so much after the war.

“My position in Jinlintai is secure with my brother in charge, but my reputation is still weak enough that I can only withstand gossip so long as I have you both to prop it up…” Jin Guangyao swallows, clearly trying to keep a brave face but his hands are twisting in his robes tellingly, “If er-ge takes a wife we will have to all commit to being very visibly nothing more than sworn brothers, and we- we cannot allow any sort of speculation, both on our image collectively and separately, so-” Jin Guangyao’s breath hitches, “so, so we-”

It is impossible to focus on his own despair when one of the men he loves is so obviously falling apart in front of him; Lan Xichen jumps up and practically dives around the table to get to Jin Guangyao’s side, and Nie Mingjue does the same, sweeping him up in his arms and Lan Xichen takes his face in his hands.

“Breathe, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen instructs, stroking his cheeks. Jin Guangyao nods shakily.

“Fuck this,” Nie Mingjue growls, and when Lan Xichen glances up, the man’s expression is determined, chin tilted up, all of the earlier resignation gone. Lan Xichen’s heart lurches. “No, we’re not just gonna give up. We’re gonna fight for this. There’s no reason why we need to separate - plenty of sect leaders have had more than one spouse and have still been considered perfectly respectable - my father, for one. We might not be able to make our marriage public, but if you found the right kind of woman, she’d understand. We’ve not done anything wrong.”

“It’s not something the Lan usually do, I can’t think of anyone in recent generations who has taken more than one spouse…” Lan Xichen pauses, fully considering it, the tiniest spark of hope beginning to flicker in his chest. “Although… there are no rules explicitly forbidding it, I suppose.”

“If we can find a Lan who has had multiple spouses, then you will have precedent to present to the elders.”

Lan Xichen looks down, moving his hands away from Jin Guangyao’s cheeks as Nie Mingjue looses his grip. Jin Guangyao’s brows are slightly furrowed in his familiar thinking-impossibly-fast face, his panic fading immediately in the opportunity to create a plan, to gain an increment of control over the situation.

“We will have details of all marriages within the Lan sect in the Hall of Records,” Lan Xichen volunteers. “The clan historical records were some of the documents that I managed to save when the Wen came to burn Cloud Recesses, so we will have records dating all the way back to when the Lan sect was founded.”

Nie Mingjue hums thoughtfully, “You think that if you can prove another Lan has done it and kept a good reputation, they might let Xichen do it?”

“Perhaps.” Jin Guangyao settles himself in Nie Mingjue’s arms so he’s sat up properly at the table, gaze distant as he runs his ideas across his mind’s eye. He’s back to his usual confident self, the anxious moment little more than a blip, and Lan Xichen’s heart sings to see it. “Da-ge, tomorrow, when er-ge is busy with his sect duties, you can go to the Hall of Records and start researching. If that doesn’t work, our next best option will be to find the right kind of woman for you to marry - that’ll be my job.”

Lan Xichen raises his eyebrows, “What kind of woman won’t mind marrying a man who likes men?”

Jin Guangyao flashes a small smirk that is unfairly attractive for how serious their conversation is. “A woman who likes women, of course. Or a woman who doesn’t like anyone would do just as well. A wife who wouldn’t mind carrying your child, but who would have no interest in sharing your bed.”

“Quite a tall order to find,” Lan Xichen murmurs.

“Hold on,” Nie Mingjue interrupts, looking delightfully perturbed, “why am I the one slogging through all those records by myself? You’re the one who catalogued them all ages ago, why aren’t you doing it?”

“Because my job is going to involve playing nice and friendly with Lan Qiren. I’m going to act like we’ve fully accepted the marriage demand and show a brotherly interest in the process of selecting a bride, and if I can get a shortlist of the women they’re considering, I can start my enquiries into their… personal proclivities.” Jin Guangyao tilts his head, raising his eyebrows, “Would you rather have my job? We can swap if you’d prefer.”

Nie Mingjue’s mouth twitches into something that isn’t quite a pout, but isn’t exactly far off. “No,” he admits, with a huff of defeat.

As Jin Guangyao chuckles and Nie Mingjue’s pout fades into a grudging smile, Lan Xichen feels, suddenly, exhausted. The horror of the last few days - the grief, the sadness, the pervading guilt - was like a heavy weight he had no idea he was carrying, and now that he has even the smallest glint of hope, that burden has been lifted, and he feels weak with relief. He slumps a little, hiding his face in his hands for a few moments as he tries to breathe through it, and he loses track of the conversation until he hears his name.

“Hmm?” He lifts his head and looks around a little blearily. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are both smiling at him. Reflexively, he smiles back.

“Are you tired, Huan-gege?” Jin Guangyao asks teasingly, tongue poking out from between his teeth. “I was just saying that with Wei Wuxian seeing to his duties in Yunmeng at the moment, it falls to us to make sure da-ge's qi is… properly looked after.” Jin Guangyao reaches out to squeeze his wrist affectionately, “Although I'm starting to wonder if you have the energy. It must have been hard on you carrying all this on your own, hmm?”

Over the years they've been together, the three of them have tried many different configurations, depending on who is in what mood, who needs some special care, or sometimes just who is particularly craving something, and Lan Xichen immediately recognises what Jin Guangyao is gently offering here - that for tonight, he will take charge of anything they do in the bedroom.

Often, Lan Xichen rather enjoys leading their time together; he likes using his strength to manhandle or restrain, he likes using his stamina to push them both to the edge and completely sate them, and more than anything it feels good to, in the midst of their complicated lives, simply be able to fulfil their needs. He can give them what they want. When his A-Yao is exhausted and vulnerable, when his da-ge is tired of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he can take care of them.

There are, though, often days where they try a different dynamic, sometimes because it's what Lan Xichen needs, sometimes it's because one of the others needs (or just wants). Despite the fact that he made his name as a leader of men, Nie Mingjue generally prefers the role of willing accomplice to mastermind. Jin Guangyao is far more likely to take the lead, usually seeming to relish the chance to use his incredibly deft skill for orchestrating events of any size to guide them through an evening (or a series of them, on longer stints together) that scratches some very particular itches.

Lan Xichen raises Jin Guangyao’s hand to his mouth and presses a few slow, soft kisses to his knuckles, lingers with his lips tucked into the narrow little valley between his index and middle fingers, and he’s unsurprised when Jin Guangyao takes the silent invitation to slide into his lap. Jin Guangyao manages to arrange his layers of skirts and graceful limbs to avoid discomfort for the both of them and coaxes him into a slow kiss without much heat but with a steady warmth that chases away the last few tremors from Lan Xichen’s hands cupped gently against the back of his husband’s neck.

“Poor er-ge,” Jin Guangyao tuts against his mouth in between sweet kisses. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

As lovely and welcome as that sounds, as much as he would jump at such an offer under any other circumstances, Lan Xichen finds that tonight the request doesn’t sit quite right. He presses a few more lingering kisses to Jin Guangyao’s mouth as he looks inward to try to figure out why that is, and when he figures it out he tips his chin to break the kiss in favour of pressing a trail of gentle pecks along Jin Guangyao’s cheek up to the delicate curve of his ear.

“I would prefer to watch you with Mingjue,” he murmurs, fingertips petting the warm skin below the edge of his collar. He draws slow circles around one of Jin Guangyao’s vertebrae and relishes the way it makes him sigh, relax, and nuzzle in closer with a hum in the back of his throat.

“Oh?”

“Mm. Show me how well you can take care of him?”

Lan Xichen thinks he’ll never grow tired of watching his husbands enjoy being together. He still thinks fondly of the night in Qinghe that his lovers finally seemed to reach something of an accord, what he still privately thinks of as their ‘first time’ if only because their encounters prior to that tentative truce had been so completely miserable that none of them like to think back to them too often.

That night that Nie Mingjue had unbent enough to be completely vulnerable with them, that first night Lan Xichen had watched them together with hope underpinning his desire, when he’d watched them teasing and playing cautiously, afraid to ruin it for each other but clearly determined to make it work if they could – that was their true first time as far as Lan Xichen is concerned, and since then they’ve only gotten better. Things could have gone so much worse, that he’s sure of, and so he takes an extra measure of delight in watching Jin Guangyao turn to smile winsomely at Nie Mingjue over his shoulder, and in watching Nie Mingjue’s entire face soften into an adoring smile of his own in return.

Lan Xichen relinquishes his hold on Jin Guangyao in favour of being shooed up off the floor and into bed, though he is at least allowed to pause long enough to strip down rather carelessly before he settles in sitting up against the wooden frame, his head resting lightly on the wall to relax as much as he can while he watches Nie Mingjue strip much more methodically than Lan Xichen had at Jin Guangyao’s silent direction, clearly enjoying being bossed around if the tented front of his trousers is anything to judge by.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t draw the process out too long though, and once Nie Mingjue is naked he ducks down to murmur something for Jin Guangyao alone, Lan Xichen doesn’t bother straining his hearing to try to find out what, and then Nie Mingjue is sliding into bed beside him flat on his back. Before Lan Xichen can wonder what position they’re planning on, Nie Mingjue rolls over to bury his face in Lan Xichen’s lap with a few open-mouthed kisses on his way to taking his cock in his mouth with no warning or fanfare.

Lan Xichen hums, low and content, and lets his eyes slip shut to better sink into the passive pleasure of simply letting Nie Mingjue do what he wants, one hand falling to brush over the complex weave of his braids and the other curling into a loose fist in the silk of his covers as pleasure washes through him in comfortable, easy waves. The beds in Cloud Recesses aren’t high enough off the ground for Jin Guangyao to stand beside it and fuck Nie Mingjue like this as they’ve done quite a few times in Qinghe, but Lan Xichen cracks one tired eye open at the familiar sound of oil being applied to something firm to find that Jin Guangyao is slicking up his fingers to at least prep Nie Mingjue while he’s turned on his side like this and Lan Xichen smiles at him, slow and sleepy, just to see Jin Guangyao return it.

Despite his request to watch them together, Lan Xichen keeps his eyes shut the entire time Nie Mingjue is sucking him off; he is, for lack of a better word, basking in the ease with which they come together, and thrilling at the fact that he loves them now more than ever and that, with their help, he may not have to give that love up for something more suitable to someone of his station.

When he eventually comes it’s more comfortable than anything and Nie Mingjue cleans him up without any fuss, as wonderfully businesslike and straightforward as he is about everything. He drops a parting kiss to the top of Lan Xichen’s thigh before he pulls back to twist over onto his front beside him, arms curled under his head and one leg thrown over Lan Xichen’s to cross at the ankles as Jin Guangyao slicks himself up and kneels between Nie Mingjue’s parted thighs. This part at least Lan Xichen opens his eyes for, and he thoroughly enjoys getting to pet his hand through Nie Mingjue’s hair and along the strong breadth of his shoulders as Jin Guangyao does as he asked and shows him just how thoroughly he can take care of Nie Mingjue on his own.

Lan Xichen doesn’t join his qi to theirs when they reach dual cultivation; he can feel it of course, a familiar tug on his spiritual energy that’s so primed these days to join with theirs when they’re cultivating together, as if their meridians are simply extensions of his own, their bodies barely separated from his anymore — but tonight he keeps himself apart. He watches them in their bliss and his entire body aches with how much he loves them, and when they recover enough to start again Lan Xichen slides down to lie next to Nie Mingjue, to pull his husband half up onto himself to kiss him and hold him as their other husband takes him apart with delicious precision.

They keep it relatively short, and their second orgasm together doesn’t come with the siren call of their dual cultivation either. Lan Xichen kisses Nie Mingjue’s temple as he shudders apart, holds Jin Guangyao’s free hand not clutching Nie Mingjue’s hip to let him squeeze his fingers as he curls forward and presses his forehead to the centre of Nie Mingjue’s back, and when they’ve recovered enough to separate for the night Lan Xichen helps them clean up enough to at least not ruin the bedding.

Lan Xichen goes to sleep comfortably squished under Nie Mingjue’s lax bulk with Jin Guangyao tucked up tightly against his side, and he dares to hope for the impossible.

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #feat. Lan Qiren Trying His Best(TM)#The Waves Are Rising and Rising #Extra Scene

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felassan · 2 months ago

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DA:TV spoilers/long post under cut.

((this post is just a bunch of random stuff/assorted lil things and thoughts from as I was leafing through my screenshots folder lately, dumped together into one post so as not to spam.))

Maybe Morrigan wrote this Codex entry? in Witch Hunt she said "Many fear change, and will fight it with every fibre of their being. But sometimes change is what they need most. Sometimes, change is what sets them free", and she is associated with grimoires, has been in the Crossroads before, etc. this note seems to explain why in DA:TV [iirc] the Crossroads no longer looks different for elves compared to how it looks for the other lineages. "an eluvian has two faces" - as an aside, this phrase or idea makes me think so much of Falon'Din and Dirthamen and their situation.. twin souls (or rather twin soul-fragments), a shadow and a reflection, parts of the same whole. like the Roman god Janus (and other deities with this trait), depicted as having two faces, in his case one which can see into the past and one which can see into the future.

Spirits/Demons of Rapacity are a new (to us) thing. maybe they are a Hunger demon or a type of Hunger demon, like how Audacity was a Pride demon? eating, consuming. but rapacity can also be the quality of covetous avarice (wealth etc), so maybe Desire? or maybe it's simply its own thing/aspect, or embodies something else (entirely possible, it sounds like the southern Thedosian way of conceptualising demons is academically out of date/old-fashioned in-world).

Envy, of course. for me this note also implies the existence of Frustration demons.

Misery is also new. maybe Despair/a type of Despair demon? or again simply its own thing.

Despair is known. Shame interested me as it reminded me a lot of the Marquis of Serault's great-grandfather, the Shame of Serault (Dragon Age: The Last Court you will always be famous). he became an abomination. he was known as the Shame because his actions brought shame on the marquisate, but what if also the demon that possessed him was.. Shame? new headcanon just dropped. yes. I love it (๑*ᗜ*) Horror also interested me. like as in a Gibbering horror, an Arcane horror, or simply the aspect/quality of Horror, which is totally something you can feel?

Some more new ones - Chaos, Disorder, Disruption spirits/demons.

Saravarin, a (likely) agent of the Dread Wolf's rebellion, who seems to use they/them pronouns. :)

The first time I noticed the broken remains of Bianca on Varric's bedside in the infirmary, I was so sad. a tale ended. and that was when I thought it was just imagery of his retirement and injury, before I knew about The Reveal.

A dwarf named Kevan Brubock invented flushing toilets!!

This scene seems to depict all of the Talons arranged up there on stage behind Illario (First, or rather representing that here at the moment), as along with Illario there's Teia (Seventh) and Viago (Fifth), but there's one model too many, since Illario is representing House Dellamorte here. that aside, neat to see that along with Teia, two of the other current Talons as of this timepoint seem to be elves. (in TN there was Giuli and Bolivar) Could the elf second from the left be Bolivar Nero? ^^ he survived TN. In TN he was described as having a long shock of white hair and wearing a suit trimmed in bear fur. that character model has long pale hair and putting them in that armor gives the impression of a fur or feather trim!

It was cool to see the new statue/asset of Mythal, and its inspirations that it has from this one found in DA:I.

Not just the appearance of the nervous system, they got a whole lil brain under there.

The Viper/Ashur is the youngest son of Corimer Vesperian, Imperial/Black Divine Aequitas II. (Corimer is such a cool name btw). below is an excerpt from the gamefiles in addition to this, game files seeming to confirm the in-world rumor:

This wall art shows Solas leaving through the eluvian at the end of Trespasser, having frozen the Qunari to stone. :')

I just thought this note/lore on Chasind beliefs and cultural practises was really neat. so in Chasind culture there is a god or other venerated figure known as the Owl-mother, She of Spring and Tide. they're known to personify the seasons as female warriors, maybe Owl-mother is the personification of Spring?

This note seems to hint at (the often fan-theorized) idea that there is some connection between the Forgotten Ones and the Forbidden Ones. (see also the Band of Three - a connection between them has been theorized by people in-world as well). on that subject,

This note is found in the chamber where Rook fights the Formless One. at this point the Formless One is in the form of a dragon (possessed dragon corpse). the "this form" therefore is dragon form. maybe the "old rivals" Formless is talking about here are the Evanuris, who the Forgotten Ones warred with, and whom the Forbidden Ones were exiled by? (btw, "For abandoning the People in their time of greatest need, for casting aside form to flee to where the Earth could not reach" makes it sound like the Evanuris exiled the Forbidden Ones during the time of the Evanuris' war against the Titans for the crime of.. not helping in the war with the Titans, and running away from it somewhere where the Titan's wrath and fury could not harm them.)

due to this, this note reminds me a lot of Ancient Elven Writing from DA:I -

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for the gods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine. The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him." For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades.

Here, the Evanuris forbade the divine form of dragon to a "sinner", who is hinted here by the bottom text to have had a shifting form which could have been one or many. (sounds like Formless). so the Formless One was maybe originally a slave or follower of Dirthamen's. if the other Forbidden / Forgotten Ones, or some of them, were also originally slaves or followers of the Evanuris (I wonder which?), no wonder they ended up warring with them. Geldauran for example wrote "I am Geldauran, and I refuse those who would exert will upon me." in reference to the Evanuris.

The floating items in the Regret prison in the endgame each individually representing a member of Rook's team was so [falls to knees crying.png]. oughh. masterful. this was a really neat art/design choice. :> it also made me think about my Rook and what items I would use to represent them in a similar fashion, like as a fun thought exercize.

Maybe.. the titanic claws of the Dread Wolf's wolf form? :)

This codex is found in the Heights of Athim. I was right :D

The spirit-fish in the Lighthouse Meditation room were summoned by someone and apparently require feeding, Shepard's cabin fish-style :). Maybe this argument was between Solas and Felassan?

The Lighthouse was the heart of the rebellion. interesting interpretation of the imagery there with the suggestion of its light being the light of his divinity.

At some point Keeper Hawen from DA:I stumbled through an eluvian into the Crossroads. I wonder if the bright light he saw on an island in the distance was the light of the Lighthouse.

they knew the halls would be kept by the Caretaker. could this codex have been written by Felassan?

This codex is found on the piano thing in the music room in the Lighthouse. the associated art is of Mythal. the expert hand and memories are Solas/Solas', no? and the other person in the duet, the beloved memory is Mythal/of Mythal[?] this codex put me in the mind of Codex: Birds of Fancy from Trespasser. not saying that I think the "Birds" were Solas and Mythal btw, just that it reminded me of it (fluid ancient elven memory etc).

like as in these lance-beam-looking things? from the in-game light puzzles?

For this one I just wanna say I loved this codex entry, this is how folklore and regional variations of stuff like that can work in our world too, really neat :)

assuming Seer Rowan wrote this recently, this codex seems to confirm the year in which DA:TV events are set as 9:52 Dragon, as we thought.

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