oneirodynia



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    To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

    He comes close, though.

    By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

    What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

    “Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

    Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.
     

    (Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

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    05 Nov 2025

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    Lan Zhan stops before him, standing stiff and straight. He meets Wei Wuxian’s eyes—glaring! He’s glaring at Wei Wuxian! Wow, he hasn’t done that in a while! “I spoke with Lan Jingyi today.”

    “Okay,” Wei Wuxian says, arching his eyebrows. He knows Lan Jingyi can be a handful, but really, he’s not that bad. “I’m sorry?”

    “He told me that you have not been eating.”

    Wei Wuxian chuckles. This is not the appropriate response.

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    01 Nov 2025

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    “Wake up,” he says to his body, alarm making him itch. There’s no response. He says it louder, and then yells it, trying to drift forward. He can’t move. He’s curled over his own body, staring down at it, without being able to do anything.

    From inside Burial Mounds, Wei Ying’s mind reaches out to those he’s left behind.

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    31 Oct 2025

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    Nobody seemed to believe that they’re married, so they just went with the flow. For years.

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    22 Oct 2025

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    “We’re in this together, you know,” Wei Wuxian says. “You’re dead. I used to be dead. We're both tolerated and incredibly unwelcome here. We both annoy the same people, as far as I can tell. I’ve built relationships on less. Let’s work this out.”

    But again, there’s no response.

    (Or: there's a ghost in the Cloud Recesses.)

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    21 Oct 2025