Inbox for prismatica

[sizhui]

Inbox

video ⬤ audio ⬤ text ⬤ delivery

Lan Sizhui ⬤ Mo Dao Zu Shi
residential district ⬤ text
moonblessing ⬤ Iris

info ⬤ permissions ⬤ kinklist

Comments

[sizhui]

[ This...

That night, a part of him had felt frozen solid. With Jin Lin and Jingyi and Yuri and even Harry, some of that had eased up, though not entirely. Not when he knew that he had to keep strong for senior Wei.

So, honestly, 'tepid' and 'lukewarm' were an improvement of what he thought he'd been then.

Instead all of this, he ponders his answer a little more. Still on his way. ]

Then may I have your permission to keep doing it at least until it feels right to you?

[downswing]

For now.

[sizhui]

For as long as it's not too much.

[ ...perhaps hurrying over will help with letting Sizhui run a little warmer than usual? ]

[downswing]

You learned that man's greed.

[sizhui]

Is it greed still if it helps all involved, Hanguang-jun?

[ You asked for it, this time... ]

[downswing]

The worst greed is pleasant and deceiving.

[sizhui]

Then what when it is pleasant but not deceiving?

[downswing]

That is indulgence. See lovers in poetry.

[sizhui]

Or family.

[downswing]

We are. You are mine.

[sizhui]

And you mine - an I am grateful, always, for that.

Are you inside or in the garden?

[downswing]

I walk the citadel, come mornings.

[sizhui]

Mornings are a good time.

[ But he's not turning back, either. ]

[downswing]

( Ah, but it is not a Lan conversation, if a novel doesn't squirm its way between the lines. And what is asked here? Nothing, openly. And yet. )


You may.


( Join, assail, hug mercilessly. )

[sizhui]

I'm glad.

[ And then he is there, and he does give the proper salutation, hands cupped...

... before stepping closer and giving a hug that is very different from that other night. Not short, for one thing.

... and he tries to keep it tender, but in the end, it turns out pretty tight.

Assault: accomplished. ]

[downswing]

[ ...this. The exotic otherness of hands on his person, arms fastening his flank, pressure striking his chest. Inhale sharp, another breath joining him. In the middle of an open road, for shame and shamelessness neither of them can hope to dismiss.

Instinct: dislodge, push down, end the assault. Learned discipline: permit, protect, draw closer. His hands feel lessened, clumsy and unskilled, long fingers reduced to half their proportion. He strings them over Sizhui's back first, touch tentative, pads landing without pressure — distorting their stay to half-blinks of reticence.

He pulls them back. Sets them down once more. Raises the one to Sizhui's nape, then a cautious tap north-bound, where Sizhui's headband strengthens his resolve. Tap on the back. Tap on fine Wen hair, dark like the shade summoned by their midday sun. Tap, tap, tap.

Hold. ]

...warm.

[ Pleasing, for the Lan Wangjis and cats of this world. ]