13 Works by questioningly

Listing Works

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    Summary

    Hello?” the voice from her phone said, in Russian. It sounded familiar, somehow. Hesitant. “This is… Irina, yes?

    “Yes,” Irina frowned. “…Who is this?”

    Ah. It’s… Ilya,” her fucking uncle said. Her uncle, who she hadn’t spoken to since she was seven years old. “Ilya Rozanov,” as if that needed clarifying.

    When the trust that Ilya set aside for his niece, Irina, becomes available to her at eighteen, Ilya speaks to her for the first time in twelve years. It changes a lot of things, for the both of them.

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    @ilya.rozanov
    [A single picture of Ilya and Shane saying their vows. The arch behind them is a simple wreath of leaves, but the purple hydrangeas and white jasmines intertwined in them match perfectly with the boutonnières on Shane and Ilya’s lapels, respectively. Shane’s smile is watery; Ilya’s is no better, but he has his head ducked, his posture tight with emotion so his eyes are barely visible. They are holding hands.]

    my boy
    5.5m likes, 4.3k comments

    @svetlanas - can’t believe you got to Hollander first. congrats, i guess ❤️ 11314

    @ilya.rozanov - hands off, sveta. he’s mine. ❤️ 44234

    Yuna puts Shane and Ilya on the press run of the decade. The internet goes wild.

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    “Ilya?” Shane calls, and Ilya spins around to see Shane holding the most damning thing he could’ve found in Ilya’s suitcase—that damned Montreal Metros hoodie. “This is mine, isn’t it?”

    Ilya freezes. “Eh?”

    “How do you have this? I thought I’d lost it ages ago.”

    There’s no good way for Ilya to say the truth, which is that: you left it at my house in Boston after you broke my heart for the first time and I kept it so I could wear it occasionally and jerk off while thinking about you when I thought I would probably never be able to have you again and it was the last bit of you I could have, so Ilya settles for the next best thing, which is:

    “It… it is not yours.”

    Shane shoots him an unimpressed look.

    Ilya is really struggling with the fact that he wants to keep Shane forever and steal his clothes and leave dumb hickies on him and wake up to him in the morning. He's working on it.

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    “What are you going to do now, then?”

    “I have one last task entrusted to me.” Jing Yuan says. “One more thing that I need to finish. And then…” he spreads his hands. “I can finally enjoy my retirement, fully free of worries.”

    This must be what Elio sent him here to chase. But—to what end? For him to stop Jing Yuan, or follow him?

    “…To where?” Blade asks. “To do what?”

    “Why do you want to know, hmm?”

    Blade’s head hurts. It has been a long time since those eyes looked at him with anything other than cold neutrality—as if the only place he knows Blade from is truly only the print of his wanted posters.

    “I need to come with you,” Blade grits out, an admission that tastes as shameful as a plea on his tongue. “To find what I really seek. To find an end to… to this.”

    As per the terms of their deal, Elio gives Blade the solution to finally obtaining the eternal slumber that he's been chasing ever since he woke up in a body that was more weapon than man, eight hundred years ago. Much to his dismay, it involves him, Jing Yuan, a ship, and a journey across the galaxies.

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    “It’s almost as if he’s—” Dan Feng can’t seem to find the exact words to describe the thing that lingers between Jing Yuan’s eyes when he looks at them from afar, in the way he calls out their names, like he isn’t expecting a response back. Though he knows it is there, the shape of it eludes him—just as Jing Yuan’s gaze does when he catches Dan Feng watching him, nowadays. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what he’s thinking at all.”

    “Jing Yuan has never been easy to read, has he?” Yingxing presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “Dan Feng. You don’t think…”

    The mara.

    Ever since his return from the frontlines, Jing Yuan has been acting strange, and Dan Feng and Yingxing can't seem to figure out why.

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    “So, the corrupted cast-offs of a gift you no longer want, for the prevention of your extinction,” Yinyue-jun said, amused. “Is that all you have to offer? And my kin said yes?”

    Yingxing leaned down to whisper something in Yinyue-jun’s ear, his hand trailing down the backrest of the seat to curl around Yinyue-jun’s shoulder instead, his fingers twisting in the long black-blue silk of his hair.

    “Very well, then. Whatever is in your means to give, hm? In exchange…” Yinyue-jun lifted his hand, graceful and precise, to gesture right at Jing Yuan. “I want him.”

    Unable to restrain the spread of the mara, the Xianzhou send their best to seek help from the scions of the Permanence, Jing Yuan amongst them. Dan Feng agrees, but only for a price.

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    “Well, I have another theory for you,” Aventurine said, spreading his hands. “We were such good allies last time, weren’t we? I think we can recreate it, if we tried. Work with me again, Ratio. Let’s make another dream come true.”

    This was their dance: Ratio stepped back, and Aventurine stepped forward. It was time that Ratio stepped back far enough—enough to end this before it could start.

    “You seem to have misunderstood me, Aventurine,” Ratio said. “We aren’t on the same side. I have no desire to destroy the IPC—nor will I be playing any part in your plans.” Not this time.

    Twenty years later after the events of Penacony, Ratio meets Aventurine again.

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    “Come on. Jing Yuan’s right. Have a drink, Jingliu. For me?” Baiheng asks. Under every set of armor is a living being, and even a glacier melts in the face of Baiheng’s disappointed stare. She holds out the pristine porcelain, and Jingliu takes it. She sips at it, furrowing her brows upon the first taste.

    “Jing Yuan, your taste in wine…”

    Jing Yuan blinks, widening his eyes. “Master, I took this from your house.”

    “You…” Jingliu frowns.

    Baiheng muffles a laugh into her hand. “Did you really?”

    Jing Yuan has a drink with some old friends—or something close to it, at least.

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    “You aren’t alone,” Dan Heng says. “And the Jing Yuan I know would never say this.”

    Jing Yuan laughs once more, bitter. “If you truly think that, then let me ask you: who is the general that you really think you know?”

    A heliobus possesses Jing Yuan. In order to save him, Dan Heng dives into his mind to confront the shared ghosts that haunt them.

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    “What the story says… Is it true? The legend of Long’s first child and his lover, and this pendant? Of Dan Feng and you being their incarnations?”

    “If it was, wouldn’t you remember your past lives like the story says?” Jing Yuan attempts to deflect. What Jing Yuan did should’ve fixed that, but Dan Heng doesn’t need to know. “It’s just some overly creative interpretation of a history mixed with a fairytale. There’s no need for you to pay it any mind.”

    “But I do.”

    “I—What?”

    “I do remember. I’ve seen you,” Dan Heng says. “Standing by me under the blooming branches of the Arbor. Bleeding out in my arms. Us together, in the sea. I thought they were just Dan Feng’s memories, at first. But it wasn’t you, was it? At least, not in this life.”

    In every cycle of rebirth, there is a dragon and his lover, and they are happy together. Dan Heng and Jing Yuan’s path is a little more complicated, but they find each other in the end all the same.

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    Summary

    This close, Jing Yuan could feel his breath against his, his hair draping over Jing Yuan’s collarbone, spilling over where his bandages lay under his shirt like a caress. “So I was right. You and Dan Feng. You were…”

    “I—Aeons above. Yes, Dan Heng,” Jing Yuan let out, half exasperated, half miserable. “We were lovers. Cultivation partners. Is that what you wanted to hear? As I am trying very hard to respect the promise that I made to you yesterday, you can see why I would rule dual cultivation out as a potential solution for your inability to shift back.”

    “What if,” Dan Heng began. “What if I told you that I... wouldn’t be opposed?”

    The aftereffects of Phantylia's connection to Jing Yuan means that the rest of his lifespan can now be measured in decades rather than centuries, though he can hardly bring himself to consider that a bad thing. Dan Heng finds himself unable to revert to his former self even after everything is over, and proposes a mutual solution.

    Series
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    Summary

    "Eight hundred years... And yet," Jing Yuan continued. "You still look at me like that."

    He smiled again, intentionally mischievous, the gesture chasing away whatever darkness was left in his eyes, and parted his legs, hooking one of them around Blade and drawing him even closer.

    "Is this what you came here for, then? I'm happy to prove to you," Jing Yuan murmured, "that it'll take more than this to kill me."

    After Phantylia, and their reunion. Or, in other words: Blade sneaks into Jing Yuan's rooms to rail a convalescing patient.

    Series
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    Summary

    “What admirers?” Lan Wangji responds. She can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

    “Wangji, I have witnessed no less than five people try to ask you out after class since the semester started.” Luo Qingyi says flatly. “One of them thought I was your girlfriend and still asked you out anyway. Those admirers?”

    “Oh.” He pauses. “I… did not realize.”

    Luo Qingyi feels slightly dazed. “How,” she says, muffled. “How do you not know. I heard of you before I even met you. Three of my friends have professed their love for you to me. You have a boyfriend. How did you get a boyfriend?”

    Wei Wuxian cackles.

    Or: Everybody in the History and Music Department knew about Lan Wangji, who was quite possibly the most famous student on that part of campus.

    As Luo Qingyi was both a History major with a minor in Music Theory and a very tired viola player in the university’s orchestra, she was well aware of the numerous rumors and speculations that her fellow infatuated students would whisper whenever a new Lan Wangji sighting occured. Personally, she just thought he was basically the local cryptid.

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