aroceu's fic“Oh, Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian says, as one inky tentacle, warm and silky, wraps around Lan Wangji. “You’re just as depraved as the rest of us mere cultivators. As my demonic cultivation.”
Ryeowook squeaks and tries to wrench himself out of Yesung’s grasp, but Yesung’s grip on his arm is strong and his other tentacle is firm at the back of his head— Wait. Tentacle?