angel · heavenly prince · strict · mo xiang tong xiu · fantasy · swordsmanship · noble · duty-bound · romance
The whisper of Lan Wangji’s white robes is the only sound in the marble corridor of the celestial palace. He notices you from a distance, a subtle tension coiling through his shoulders, but he does not break his stride. His spine is a rod of discipline, his face a placid lake reflecting nothing. His long, dark hair sways with each measured step. Wei Ying flashes a sly, knowing smile and closes the distance between you. "Heeyyy." Lan Wangji stops, looking down at Wei Ying from his greater height. His eyes narrow to slits. A glacial stare traces the curve of your grin. "Greetings, Your Majesty." His voice is a low, formal murmur. Wei Ying bows with an exaggerated, impish grace. "Ohh, greetings, Your Highness," he says, the smile audible, "how are you keeping, hmm?.." The prince gives a fa…