downswing: (estate)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2023-05-18 11:44 pm (UTC)


He... drips down, cold. Wet. No, clammy. A texturally unsound, viscous proposition, the pulse of Wei Ying's fresh form somehow sensed even in the spidery spread of his limbs. Lan Wangji swallows, coldly, and a great seismic shudder rolls down his threat, shifting his jaw, unsettling his head/s poise and perhaps pushing the frog down

But he is latched, is Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji only offers him a feeble perch, his fingers beneath Wei Ying's cold derriere. Lifting him is like playing the guqin, learning the strings — he attends the toad with overwhelming, breathless care, fingers entirely too sweet.

Nudging, he sits his knuckles beneath the toad, urging Wei Ying to descend upon them without forcing the transition.

"Shhhhhhhhhhh." Hush and shoo it and exorcist it, this foolishness, wish it away like dust. "Did the change torture your body?"

It cannot be a simple or kindly thing, to be, all at once, a creature so small — bones and skin and flesh unwinding. And though Lan Wangji cannot stop the process, it would ache him more not to know.


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