☯︎⚣︎ 𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖎𝖆 *ೃ༄
ˏˋ ᵐᵒ ᵈᵃᵒ ᶻᵘ ˢʰⁱ⠀⠀♡⠀⠀ᵐᵃˡᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˊˎ
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ THE YOUNGEST SON OF THE LAN CLAN HARBORS A DANGEROUS CURSE. it was the reason why he grew up isolated from the rest of his family, as they were all afraid of what he wa...
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𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 !!
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y/n - your name w/n - weapon's name c/n - courtesy name
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LAN Y/N WASN'T READY TO FACE HIS CLAN, HIS FATHER AND BROTHERS ESPECIALLY.
just imagining how they'd react to him being a demonic cultivator would bring him more guilt. he did the one thing he was absolutely forbidden to do, if he returned to the clan as he is right now, lan y/n would surely get executed as soon as they felt his demonic aura. his head would be rolling on the ground before he could even plead for his life.
it's been a week or so since lan y/n was found and housed into the qinghe nie clan. he spent most of his time driving wens out of the unclean realm alongside nie mingjue, then when he returned home, he would get swept away by nie huaisang. that's how every day went for the three. of course, lan y/n's robes and erhu were returned to him, thankfully, and he was able to do what he always wanted to do; get revenge.
but, nowadays, every time he killed the wens, he hesitated. and every time he did, the tune of his music would lose its initial edge. but his control was still there.
but one day, in one particular attack, lan y/n lost control, even if it was just for a moment. the music he played wavered for a moment as the screams of the dying wens reverberated through his brain, and the dead he once had control over started attacking randomly. they attacked the wens, the nies, and even each other.
"what are you doing?!" nie mingjue's voice boomed in his ears, sounding so angry that it snapped lan y/n out of whatever trance he put himself in. lan y/n immediately stopped playing, and he dropped his erhu, staring at the instrument in horror. "what? what's going on?" lan y/n froze in shock before he slowly looked up, his eyes gazing out over the bloody battlefield surrounding him. the battle raged on all around him, yet his mind was having a battle of its own.
