dieva: (Default)
in my goth necromancer era (wei wuxian | 魏无羡) ([personal profile] dieva) wrote2025-12-30 10:24 am
shangba: (06.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-02-28 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
( He is being... appraised. Fondled. Found, he hopes and will only double his exercise regimen for it, not entirely wanting. There is a point past which physical prowess graduates from reassurance to deterrent; he does not wish to frighten or repulse.

As Wei Ying has his look-around across his skin, Lan Wangji's hands move up his head, scouting through his hair, gently scratching the sides. A scalp massage, as things go. Suitable. )


No grade until further instruction. ( He can only abide being a disappointment in so many ways. ) Must work hard.
shangba: (Default)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-01 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
( There, just there. Fingers latching onto Wei Ying's hair, the entirety of their attention rapt with each other. Wholly and unapologetically gravitating toward Wei Ying.

He applies himself, handy and enthusiastic and learning, day by day, what it takes to be 'skilled.' Affection is a different beast than the cunning of intimacy, than passing his hand over Wei Ying's length and coaxing out moans.

He should do so again, perhaps within hours, certainly the day. Pauses do not serve when knowledge is so fresh. )


What more?
shangba: (07.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-01 12:57 pm (UTC)(link)
( 'Regular' couples. As if they are somehow alien, out of place. He understands, in part, Wei Ying's meaning — and still smarts to think of him as untoward or perverse. Not his husband. Not him.

And then, the rest. Jade pillars, yin dao, substitutes. At the inevitable conclusion — the body has other holes — he is all flushed and seeking to stare at any other corner of the room, fervently wishing to make himself humble. Small.

This... goes far beyond his natural learning, and Cloud Recesses' finest efforts to educate its second son. He finally recovers the shamelessness to face Wei Ying again, then doubles it, hand suddenly wondering his lover's flank, his hip, the now known weight of his cock — and slipping below, to part his legs and gently, far too gently, brush against Wei Ying's 'hole.' )


This cannot fit. ( Like an engineer, finding the work wanting. ) Unsuitable for purpose.
shangba: (12.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-01 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
( A little warning, says his dearest one, who shies from Lan Wangji's touch like the maiden they both know him not to be. For once on this day, Lan Wangji lets his brows perk up, taking the measure of his husband incredulously. Really. )

I, Lan Wangji, hereby warn. ( ...of what, precisely, they never quite stipulated, and his touch stays simple, sweet, barely caressing Wei Ying's pretty treasure. His thumb lingers. )

It will not make this more accommodating.
shangba: (05.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-02 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
( One book would hardly have served them for an apt education, not when grooms and brides receive an hours-long education with the finest tutors of Cloud Recesses. Why is it, then, that men are so sidelined?

He feels, for the first time, disappointed with the work of his people. Wholly, unequivocally frustrated, brows pinched and alight with tacit fury. He should know better how to please his husband. He should not fail him so.

Belatedly, his hand withdraws from Wei Ying's precious private parts, nearly shy. )


Tomorrow, we shall procure more materials from Caiyi.
shangba: (02.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-02 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
( He's slow to shimmy on over, but brazen and headstrong, and Lan Wangji, quick to tip himself half sitting against the wall so that Wei Ying might better perch himself, has never met a cause over which the Yiling Patriarch could not win. No odds defy him, no battle frightens him. His wish be done.

And so he finds himself grounding his palm at the small of Wei Ying's back, welcoming the slight parting of his legs, until Lan Wangji may gently receive him. His hand walks the length of Wei Ying's belly, only distracted by recovering the single nearest layer of silks — Lan Wangji's own, through hazard — and slipping it over his lover's shoulders. For comfort, he needn't say. )


Holes, Wei Ying said. ( This, perhaps, with more authority than Lan Wangji suspects will ever haunt his bones, gaze intent on the riddle of Wei Ying's arousal, before him. ) Will... any do?

( Tellingly, he licks the seam of his own lips, to reveal his meaning. A taste. He enjoyed the one before. )