lightblade



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    Wei Wuxian opens the letter and skims through, feeling his frown deepen with every line. “Oh. A request from Yiling. This man Tong Shen writes, 'I can’t explain what’s happening — you wouldn’t believe me if I tried. The hills are moving and they are hungry. Please send aid, Hanguang-jun, this humble one begs you.' Well, my curiosity is certainly piqued."

    A few months after the events of Guanyin Temple, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji take on a night hunt of an unusual sort: The Burial Mounds are spreading, quickly and with no apparent explanation. 

    In Wei Wuxian, it brings old, long-buried things bubbling to the surface.

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    25 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

     

    In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

    Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

    After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

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    25 Jun 2026

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    “Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

    “I think so,” Sizhui says.

    “To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

    “Yes,” Sizhui says.

    “So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

    Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

    (Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

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    25 Jun 2026

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    Since he was a child, since Lan Wangji had first become aware of his own alienating effect on others, he has long resigned himself to a loveless marriage. Perhaps even a companionate one, so long as his partner was agreeable and unbothersome and let him have his own space.

    He could not have even begun to predict Wei Wuxian.

    (A canonverse arranged marriage fic.)

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    25 Jun 2026

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    Wei Wuxian is staring up at the sky, thinking idly about the taste of Emperor’s Smile on his tongue, when Suibian jumps full force onto his stomach and cries, “A-Xian, don’t be mad!”

    The sheer force of her pounce knocks the breath out of him. The resulting pause is just long enough for Jiang Cheng, who up to this point has been laying rather peacefully next to him, to shoot up and demand, “Oh great, what did you do now?”

    To be fair, the question isn’t exactly unwarranted. Suibian looks an absolute mess: twigs stuck in her fur, dirt smeared across the white fluff of her underbelly. She’s panting up a storm, little heh heh heh gasps that haven’t edged into her normal high-pitched laughter. When her ears press back against her head, she could almost pass for pitiful.

    “Bichen hates me.”

    Wei Wuxian’s first thought is Why would Lan Zhan’s daemon hate you?, but it’s followed quickly by remembering exactly where he is, how little trouble he’s caused today, and the fact that he hasn’t seen Suibian for a few minutes.

    A grin spreads across his face.

    (Or: The most important name a cultivator will ever pick isn’t for their sword. It’s for their daemon.)

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    25 Jun 2026