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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Mmm, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed happily, so lewd and sultry that Lan Wangji felt his blood grow hot again. He was lax and loose and lazily tangled in the sheets, his eyes grey crescents of bleary satisfaction. “I wish you could do me like that all at the same time.”

    Wei Wuxian has a fantasy. The incense burner makes it happen.

    Language:
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    15 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Succubus Wei Ying bites off more than he can chew when he breaks into Lan Wangji's apartment in the middle of the night.

    Written for Lan Zhan Week...ish 2022!

    Language:
    English
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    14 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Before he knows it, his hand is stretching out to grab Wei Ying’s wrist and pull him back into his embrace. With Wei Ying’s head nestled in the crook of his neck, his hands pressing firmly into Wei Ying’s back, their legs entangled on the bed – Lan Zhan really didn’t think this through.

    “Lan Zhan! What –“

    “Stay.” He says. “Rest.”

    Or - 4 times Lan Zhan told Wei Ying to stay, and one time Wei Ying did.

    Language:
    English
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    12 Jun 2026

  4. Rec *

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    Fear has never been a recognizable shade on Lan Wangji in both of Wei Wuxian’s lives. Wei Wuxian has seen the vibrant reds of anger and annoyance, the gentle blues of solemnity and despair, the pastel yellows of tranquility and contentment—slowly, he’s come to catalog the differing hues that paint the canvases of Lan Wangji, of Hanguang-jun, of his husband.

    But fear?

    Fear is the swatch of grey that rolls through misty mountain mornings, brims in charcoal overcasts promising torrential rains and terrorizing floods, swells in storms rupturing with violet lightning and deafening thunder. It’s a shade Wei Wuxian has only identified three times, and this—this is the fourth.

    --

    Lan Wangji is cursed on a night hunt.

    Language:
    English
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    10 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    The man lifts the stick of tanghulu to his lips. Out darts a small pink tongue that swipes across the candied hawthorn. Lan Wangji’s breath hitches, riveted as the man draws back and licks the red of his wicked smile. Then, he leans forward, and slips the top candy into his mouth, shaping his lips around the fruit and sucking lightly, languorously, before nipping at the sugar and pulling it off the stick with a drag of his lips. It pops off easily, flecks of sugar crumbling onto his sleeve, sparkling like snow.

    As if aware of his effect on Lan Wangji, the man grins, victorious. Turning, the man throws out the sleeve of his cloak, flicking off the shards of sugar, and twirls the stick of tanghulu in his other hand. With a flourish, he rejoins the crowd and melts into the shadows, disappearing from view.

    It’d been easy, effortless, natural.

    It’d driven Lan Wangji insane.

    --

    On the night of his birthday celebration, Lan Wangji finds himself ensnared in a game with a wily, elusive man in a fox mask.

    Language:
    English
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    10 Jun 2026