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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: JGY/WQ expansion from the Ship Meme fic you wrote--he does marry her and liberates the Dafan Mountain Wens.

ao3

The first Wen Qing heard of it was after they had already been rescued.

She’d been mindlessly heading to the Lotus Pier, desperate for help to find and rescue Wen Ning – Wei Wuxian would help her, she was sure of it; his sense of honor and obligation wouldn’t let him do anything else, and he was already so much of a social pariah in the cultivation world that it seemed impossible that anything he could do on her behalf would make his reputation any worse than it already was. She’d planned to throw herself at his mercy, then at his feet, and then, if that still didn’t work, to try to blackmail him with the knowledge she had, the story of what she’d done at his request, at what they’d both done to Jiang Cheng.

Only, when she got there, she didn’t have time to do any of that. Instead, Wei Wuxian raised her up at once and told her that it wasn’t necessary.

“They’re – safe?” she said blankly. “My family? A-Ning? They’re all safe?”

“There was a whole big to-do about it,” Wei Wuxian said. He looked apologetic. “You’re not wrong about the Jin sect using labor camps, prison camps, instead of resettling people like they’d promised – it’s just that it all already came out, causing a giant fuss. The Jin sect leader claimed he didn’t know and no one believed him, lots of arguing…the usual, really. Anyway, the remnants of the Wen sect, including most of what’s left of Dafan Wen, have all ended up actually resettled now. Lianfang-zun even asked for people from the Lan sect to make regular supervisory visits to make sure that they’re being well treated.”

“Lianfang-zun,” Wen Qing echoed. She’d never heard that name before in her life.

Wei Wuxian misunderstood her confusion and nodded. “It’s really rather impressive,” he said. “I mean, I knew he was impressive – Lianfang-zun was the one who killed Wen Ruohan in the end, after all, and I’m given to understand that his spying was very important to the Sunshot Campaign’s survival through some of the harder portions of the war, but it’s somehow even moreimpressive that he went up against his own father for the Wen sect’s sake. Even if it is the righteous thing to do, most people wouldn’t have, you know?”

None of those words made sense. The person who’d spied and killed Wen Ruohan had been –

“Meng Yao?”

Wen Qing remembered Meng Yao very vaguely. He’d been very polite to her any time they’d met, even when she’d been rude in return; he himself had needed medical services only very infrequently, a sign of how favored he was, and yet they interacted semi-regularly whenever she was called to assist in preserving the lives of some of the victims of the diabolical machines he’d invented to please her uncle.

There had been times when she’d been very rude.

Thinking back on it now, she thought she might have heard it said somewhere that Meng Yao was one of Sect Leader Jin’s bastards, the one that had gotten thrown out of Jinlin Tower with such dramatics that one time – she hadn’t thought much of it, other than that awkward time at the beginning where she’d incorrectly assumed his surname was Jin.

But none of that explained why he had suddenly taken the side of her kin. A man who did the work that Meng Yao had done was no righteous man, prone to irrational and impetuous acts of honor; he was a schemer, through and through – so what was his goal in doing this?

“Jin Guangyao, now,” Wei Wuxian corrected her. “He’s been officially recognized by the Jin sect, you’ll be happy to hear.”

“Happy?” she said blankly. “Why would I be happy?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at her. “Aren’t you two engaged?”

Wen Qing gaped at him.

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy! Lianfang-zun explained, everyone knows the whole story now – all about how you’d helped him with his spying in the Nightless City, covering up for him and helping him get out his messages out to our side to help out with the Sunshot Campaign, even helping save some of our people out of the Fire Palace, and of course all about how you two grew close at the time and swore that you’d marry once you both got out…” He trailed off, clearly seeing the disbelief on her face. “Am I getting something wrong?”

He was getting everything wrong.

Wen Qing had taken the coward’s way out of the war: she’d refused to bloody her hands by participating herself, but she’d done exactly nothing else to stop it or to stymie its effects. She’d even managed a Supervisory Office in Yiling, pretending that the forms she filled out were purely administrative and not the very real signs of the horrors her Wen sect’s soldiers were inflicting on the populace and that all the supplies she processed weren’t being used to feed and equip an army that was even now devastating the other sects; she hadn’t even messed up provisioning or sent people home instead of back out to fight…she hadn’t done anything that might have impeded their progress. Even Wen Ning had done more to oppose the war than she had – might have done even more than he had, if she hadn’t stopped him, afraid of the consequences that might fall on their heads if anyone found out about it.

She’d certainly never helped a spy pass messages back home. The closest she’d come to aiding the enemy was in helping Wei Wuxian with all that had happened with Jiang Cheng.

And she definitely hadn’t agreed to marry anyone!

“What exactly did Meng Yao say?” Wen Qing asked.

Wei Wuxian looked suspicious, but also confused, so he hesitantly answered: “He said just what I said, that you’d helped him and that you were engaged – he said that saving your brother and your people could be seen as his wedding gift to you.”

A chill slid down Wen Qing’s spine at that last bit. It wasn’t the lover’s declaration of faith that most people (including Wei Wuxian) were taking it as, she knew – since she knew, as they didn’t, that she and Meng Yao weren’tlovers. They had no oaths between them that needed honoring.

No – it was a threat.

Or rather, perhaps more accurately, it was an offer. It was as she’d suspected, Jin Guangyao being every bit as scheming as he’d ever been when he went by the name Meng Yao; it was only that she hadn’t expected to be the target of his latest scheme.

If she accepted and played along, her name would be cleansed through false acts that no one could disprove, her honor restored in the eyes of the cultivation world, her family safe and sound.

If she declined…

Wen Ning and Granny Wen and the rest were all still in Jin sect hands. Even with Lan sect ‘supervisors’, any number of terrible ‘accidents’ could happen….

The only thing she didn’t understand was why. Why would Jin Guangyao decide that he wanted to take her on as his wife? Based on what little she knew of him, he wasn’t the sort of person to have developed some sort of wild infatuation with her, though if he had she supposed he probably would have done exactly this – but he wasn’t, so it must be something that he thought she could offer him, something she brought to the table. Something so valuable that he was willing to go up against his sect and lose face in front of his father to get it for his own.

Her medical skills, presumably.

She supposed it made a certain amount of sense, in its own dark way. Back at the Fire Palace, Jin Guangyao had been a master of destruction – putting aside his machines, he still knew a thousand ways to kill a man, many undetectable; if he wanted to get his father out of the way in a believable way, he could do that all on his own, and none the wiser. But none of those skills in destruction would help him in getting into the good graces of his fearsome eldest sworn brother, whereas Wen Qing’s innovative approach to medical techniques might her invaluable to someone lingering on the precipice of a qi deviation. Her, and anyone who backed her.

If Jin Guangyao had decided to throw in his lot with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen as his backing rather than Jin Guangshan, snatching her up to as a potential bartering tool to secure his place with them was perfectly logical.

It made sense.

Wen Qing didn’t have to like it, but it made sense. And that was something of a relief, in its own way. It meant that Jin Guangyao was acting logically, and logical people could be reasoned with – negotiated with. She might have to marry him, but she thought she stood a good chance of getting Wen Ning’s safety for real out of it.

Certainly a better chance than stealing him away with Wei Wuxian and trying to just out run everyone else would.

“…Mistress Wen? Is something the matter?”

“No,” she said, getting her emotions under control. “I hadn’t heard, that was all. I was just feeling relief. Could I ask you to take me with you when you go to see…to see Lianfang-zun?”

She put a smile on her face that she wasn’t sure she meant.

“I think we have a lot to talk about.”

#mdzs #wen qing #wei wuxian #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics

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palimpsessed · 3 years ago

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First Lines Meme

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

Thank you to @captain-aralias @prettylightsbigcity @skeedelvee and @aristocratic-otter for the tags. As it happens, I have exactly 10 fics now, so I can actually do the full list! I’m a little surprised!

10. Slings and Eros

Great! O you, Muses, who create fine words, grant me, your supplicant, skillful tongue!

this fic opens with an invocation courtesy of epic poet Shepard, so also including first line of prose:

It's early when I get the summons.

9. Chamber by Chamber

Baz is squirming beneath me.

8. The Thrill of the Hunt

I’ve been doing better lately, I think.

7. It’s a Kind of Magic

I can tell it's happening almost before it does.

6. Sleeping with the Fishes

Oddly enough, Snow, that’s not the weirdest photo I’ve ever received.

this is the first text I wrote, rather than the first line of the fic, since this was co-written with @the-greater-grief. I’ll also include the first non-text line I wrote:

Simon Snow is an absolute fucking disaster.

5. Lotus-Eaters and Sirens

"Better tie you to the mast," he said, like I was Odysseus tempting fate with sirens.

4. To the Manor Borne

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor.

3. A Man of Letters

Dear Penny,

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters.

2. Use Your Words

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this.

1. At the Top of a Tower, With You

Strange that it should end here, where it all started.

I very clearly hate starting fics with any useful information unless it’s to do with setting a scene, and even that much is debatable. Short sentences, stating a fact, in the middle of a thought that won’t be explored in clarifying detail until at least the second sentence. This must be a method that works for me since it’s every single one. I think my style is usually slow build so this makes some sense.

No dialogue, except as one flashback/reflection, despite the fact that I love writing dialogue, and usually start working on potential character convos in my head prior to writing anything down. I guess this is good to know, that I’m not overly privileging dialogue.

POV-wise, we’ve got one Lucy, one Penelope, one Shepard, three Baz, and five Simon. One of those Bazes is the text fic where I’m only writing his parts, and the fic starts in Simon POV, so maybe it doesn’t count. I always feel most comfortable writing Baz, so it’s interesting to see I actually start with Simon most often, but he is our main character and most frequent canon narrator.

I will tag @the-greater-grief again and @bazzybelle @bloodiedpixie @stillmadaboutpetra @unseelieseelie @seducing-a-vampire @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists and @snowybank to do this or to say hi or both! 🥰🥰🥰

#tag game #at the top of a tower with you #use your words #a man of letters #to the manor borne #lotus eaters and sirens #sleeping with the fishes #it’s a kind of magic #the thrill of the hunt #chamber by chamber #slings and eros

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xiyao-feels · 4 years ago

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jin ling for the ask meme! 🙏👀

-Technically a Fairy fun fact, but: Fair is waist-high/half the size of a person!

-JL has seen both his uncles go night-hunting; at least before seeing LWJ fight at Yi City, he thought they were the best cultivators in the world.

-Since childhood, JL lived part of the time at Jinlintai and part of the time at Lotus Pier.*

-JGY gave Fairy to him when Fairy was still a puppy and JL was only a few years old.

*As you can see below, ER has when he was a child, but MDZS Translation has since he was small and in this case I favour the MDZS Translation.

Fairy's size and fur colour, ch. 20:

Exiled Rebels:

As he turned around to look, a black-haired spiritual dog of waist height went out of a corner, dashing straight at him. The cries of fear on the street came closer and closer, louder and louder, “A mad dog’s on the loose!”

MDZS Translation:

Turning his head, he saw a black-maned spirit dog half the height of a man swing around the corner and bound directly toward him. Along the street, the cries of fear grew louder and louder and nearer and nearer. “A vicious cur’s on the loose!”

JL on his uncles, ch. 38:

Exiled Rebels:

He had seen Jiang Cheng and Jin GuangYao go on night-hunts and kill beasts, which made him think that his two uncles were the two most powerful cultivators in the entire world.

MDZS Translation:

He had seen Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao in action during night hunts beheading monsters, and thought his uncles were the two most powerful cultivators in the world.

JL having grown up in both Jinlintai and Lotus Pier, ch 38:

Exiled Rebels:

When Jin Ling was young, he was brought up by two sects. He lived at the LanlingJin Sect’s Jinlin Tower half the time, and the YunmengJiang Sect’s Lotus Pier the other half, so he should be carrying belongings from both sects.

MDZS Translation:

Jin Ling had been raised by both clans since he was small. He would live at the Lanling Jin Clan’s Jinlin Terrace for a while, then live at the Yunmeng Jiang Clan’s Lotus Pier.

Fairy and JL's age when he receives Fairy, ch 110:

Exiled Rebels:

Fairy was waiting anxiously outside for his master, barking a couple of times. Hearing the barks, Jin Ling suddenly remembered that when Fairy was still a clumsy little puppy that couldn’t even reach his knees, Jin GuangYao was the one who brought it over.

Back then, he was only a few years old. [...]

#also he is VERY GOOD and VERY SMART and OBSERVANT and COMPETENT and QUICK #and I love him very much

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legendwrote · 3 years ago

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100 Kisses Meme | status: open

@equessanctus asked: “7. forehead against forehead ( for Jingyi~ from Zizhen )”

⚍☯⚎ The night was warm, pleasant, a breeze wafting in through open windows rustling sheer curtains and causing a hanging chime somewhere on the grounds to twinkle as it passed. Lotus Pier was fragrant this time of year when the petals in the water unfolded and released their sweet gifts into the atmosphere, and as such the young males chose most often to visit Yunmeng in their time away from their duties during the Summer months and to stay with Jin Ling at his uncles’s stronghold. It was more peaceful here than at Koi Tower, and despite Sandu Shengshou not being the most friendly of hosts he allowed his nephew’s friends to accompany the young lord as long as they did not cause trouble.

Whether or not pilfering a pot of wine from the cellars and sipping on it through the evening while laughing and playing games in Jin Ling’s room counted as trouble, well... at least they were well-contained, were they not?

It was passed nine o’clock already, and Sizhui being the good Lan he was had drifted off to sleep first, lulled by the few meager sips he’d partaken in. Jin Ling was not far behind, finding that Jingyi and Zizhen were growing more intolerable the sleepier he became, particularly without Lan Sizhui to play the diplomat. This left the cunning pranksters in question sitting by themselves in the corner of the room, chatting between themselves with the empty jar between them. Jingyi was fortunate to have his mother’s blood in him to counterbalance the infamous Lan alcohol tolerance — or rather lack thereof. He might have been a bit belligerent earlier, but by now he’d coasted into a contented lull, listening to the wind rustling through the trees while they talked of Baling and Gusu and anything that came to mind.

He had not noticed the point in which his gaze had become vigilant, locked on the other’s face as Zizhen chuckled and rambled about something he’d lost track of some time ago, the moon having come out from behind cloud cover to cast its silver glow around the male and painting him oddly radiant. He’d always thought Zizhen had a good look about him, his laugh earnest, his clever wit giving him a glint to his eye. It was understandable that the girls in Baling favored him, he supposed, considering he was his father’s heir, but until now he had not fully appreciated what they saw in the male. Or at least he hadn’t admitted it.

They sat close already, shoulder to shoulder, arms pressed in order to speak without waking the others. He had not realized how close until he found the other male gazing up at him expectantly, perhaps waiting for an answer. Lan Jingyi was not sure what possessed him to lean in a bit further other than that it was easy. . . it felt natural to gravitate toward him like this, and he caught only a glimpse of curiosity in the other’s expression before he brushed his lips against the other’s own — faint. Barely a kiss. He would wait a moment to make sure he was not rebuffed before, as if drawn to the glow of him like a moth to flame, he kissed him again a little more assuredly this time, letting his lips linger on the other’s own until the red hot flush of self-consciousness crawled up his neck to his cheeks, forcing their lips apart with only their foreheads to press against one another.

He swallowed a tremor of breath, blinking a few times before he met the other’s eyes, whispering, “s-sorry... I didn’t hear the question.” ⚍☯⚎

#equessanctus #⚍Muse⚎ Lan Jingyi #⚍Verse⚎ The New Generation #⚍Character⚎ Ouyang Zizhen (equessanctus)#//fsadghljdasghjldagh #//this is adorable #//also wordy af #//I am so sof

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fullyfunctionalapprentice · 3 years ago

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Arcana MC: Turel (he/him, though he doesn't actually care

"The skilled artisan who knows more than he lets on."

Favorite Food: Sauteed chanterelles

Favorite Drink: Water

Favorite Flower: Lotus

Birth Date: Older than linear time

Favorite Season: Yes

Favorite Ice Cream: Pistacio

Favorite Fruit: Black currant

Languages: There is possibly a language or two he hasn't picked up; however, he prefers speaking sign languages over speaking.

Musical inclinations: Doubtless he has learned a great many instruments, but his favourite is his voice, which is dizzyingly deep, clear, and resonant.

Age: Older than linear time, younger than death.

Can they cook?: He can, and he loves it! He tends to make filling, savoury, balanced meals in large quantities.

How do they do with spicy food?: As long as the heat is in balance with the other flavours, he enjoys it.

Do they like alcohol? What kind of drinks do they like?: Alcohol is a thing that some delicious beverages contain. He enjoys beverages, in general, especially ones with either a clear crisp flavour or an earthy/spicy complex one.

How well do they hold their drinks?: Pretty well, in proportion to his size, which would translate to "don't try to outdrink him, you Will Die," if he had any interest whatsoever in a) drinking heavily or b) making a contest of it

Sweet tooth? Sour fiend?: SOUR FIEND. For all his thoughtful and balanced nature, Turel WILL eat a family-size bag of sour patch kids and have heartburn for a week. Yes, he's an incomprehensibly ancient entity of the cycles of life and death, light and dark, order and chaos, and could absolutely do something about that. No, he isn't going to. Heartburn is what happens when you eat an entire fucking family-size bag of fucking sour patch kids.

Can they swim?: Can and will, good luck stopping him. Has to be in the right mood to accept being dunked, due to Bad Associations.

Can they Sail?: Yes, and often does, as payment for transportation by ship. Would enjoy it more if ships weren't so awkwardly small to exist on.

Can they read? Do they like to read? Write?: Yes to all of the above! Especially the latter; he dislikes speaking, and not everyone understands sign, so writing is a major component of communication. So is drawing, since plenty of people aren't literate, either - he's adept at making a few lines say a lot!

How do they feel about science/the scientific method?: It's a cornerstone of his interactions with everything.

Name meaning, provenance?: He shares a name with the Hebrew angel of strength.

What might their Major Arcana be if not the Fool?: He was ancient when the Arcana came into being.

What Minor Arcana would they choose to represent themselves in a conventional reading (if not the previous)?: Good fuckin luck doing a reading on him, my dude.

Nicknames? Are they ok with them?: The Arcana call him the Heart of All Forests. Magicians who are aware of him as an entity call him the Quiet Man.

Height: At a quarter-inch shy of 8 ft tall, he towers over the entire cast

How would you describe their build?: Long and lean; broad in the shoulders and narrow through the hips; well-muscled with just enough fat to soften their definition. His height is fairly evenly proportioned, though a smidge more of it lies in the legs than the torso. He has a glorious ass.

Do they run cold or warm?: Not particularly. He'd rather be too cold than too hot, but isn't overly susceptible to either.

Feelings on caffeine/coffee?: Caffeine can be a nice boost when he's groggy, and coffee can be delicious! One of the few sweet drinks he favours is a good Zadithi coffee on a chilly morning.

How do they think/learn? Visual? Auditory? Written?: Constantly and in every way possible. His favourite is hands-on, though.

Trinkets:

Leather flask - a dark brown leather flask, rich and supple with age, undecorated save for the stitching, which is a mossy emerald green. It is always filled with clean, clear, fresh water. In Turel's hands, it will pour whatever kind of water needs be.

River stone - an oval rock, subtly striped with grey, cream, and white, worn smooth from rushing waters. It fits comfortably in the palm of your hand.

Hunting knife - a perfectly balanced Zadithi* steel blade the length of Turel's palm, with an undyed bone hilt. From tip to pommel it is a single piece of unadorned steel, but its black leather sheath is embossed with a single rain-wet gingko leaf. Its surface shows a history of both regular use and excellent care.

Screaming moon - it's a crescent moon, about an inch across, made of porcelain, with great skill and clarity of purpose. It also looks like the damn seagull meme. Why does this exist? Only Turel knows, because it sure doesn't.

*in our world, Damascus

#turel the travelling craftsman #character bio #he's a weird weird man #and not just because hes an elder god

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bbcphile · 3 months ago

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Fic Word Meme

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Thanks for the tag, @a-sea-with-no-shores! I couldn’t choose between the excellent words you gave me (HAUNT or TIDES), so I’m posting both of them!

HAUNT:

H: He was trying, in his own idiotic, wrong-headed way, to be kind.

A: A-Fei was busy destroying himself to save the corpse who had once worn this skin.

U: Unless, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he offered, he was always going to end up left behind outside the Lotus Tower.

N: No, he snapped in the privacy of his own mind, wrenching himself back under control before his lapse could harm Xiangyi, thin bands of qi forming strangleholds around his meridians and heart, forcing them into submission.

T: The words tore themselves out of his throat, leaving searing lines of fire like the claw marks her fingernails had raked across his chest.

TIDES:

T: The ‘please’ was unsaid but rang loud as a gong in the silence, in the tension in a-Fei’s body, in the barely hidden desperation in his eyes that said he’d be on his knees begging if he knew how.

I: It was time to make a-Fei understand: whether or not Li Lianhua was healed, Li Xiangyi was never coming back to life.

D: Did he really think preventing more teapots or furniture, or even the walls of Lotus Tower itself from shattering was more important than his safety?

E: Even if the way his hair kissed his cheekbones in the candlelight threatened to shatter the hundred locks on the wooden box in his mind.

S: Several questions, clamoring loudly in his mind, immediately took its place–are you feeling better? Why are you in a tree? Are you mad at me for clearing the blockage? Does the blockage do what I think it does? How can I help you feel safe?–but he imagined scruffing them like unruly kittens, tossing them in a room, closing the door behind him, and locking it with the most elaborate mechanism design he could think of.

Low-key tagging @eirenical, @evolutionsbedingt, @beneaththebrim, and @peridot-tears.

Your word is HISTORY (with FORTUNE as the backup)

#mysterious lotus casebook #writing memes #my writing #It's fun to have these lines completely separated from context #It would be a fun game to see if people can tell what characters' POV a random line is from :D

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watch-grok-brainrot · 4 years ago

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For the minific ask meme: Jiang Yanli and U. coming home.

So… I LOVE this prompt. Thank you !!! What i wanted to do with this took a few brain jumps. First, i wanted a story about soup and about Yanli feeling like her role is to use soup to stabilize everything and heal. Then, i thought about writing a dark Yanli that haunts JC -- but that’s so OOC I decided not to go there. Finally I settled on this. It has been in my head for over a month, trying to figure out how I want to write this. Thank you for your patience!

Earth Offical’s Pardoning

Rated G

Word Count: 1213 (+/- 5 because I never let things be)

Content: cql compliant not other adaptations/novel compliant, canonical characters being dead, family feels, sad JC, baby!jin ling, mention of food because when do i not mention food?, holidays, visiting people, watching her child growing up, childhood development milestones

----

Zhongyuan Festival. Earth Offical’s Pardoning. The fifteenth day of the seventh month. On this day, the doors of the underworld opened and Jiang Yanli found herself walking hand-in-hand with her husband towards the world of the living.

They traveled first to Carp Tower. Zixuan wanted to unite with their son and his family before seeing A-Cheng. Their gossamer forms breezed over the tower stairs and into the main complex. The small lotus pond Zixuan had built for her was abandoned -- brown lotus stems and dried lily pads stuck out of drier ground.

Zixuan squeezed her hand and they headed towards his family’s Ancestral Hall. Jin Guangyao was in the midst of orchestrating a grand ceremony to honor the ancestral spirits. Jin Ling could not be found. Zixuan stepped before his still grieving mother, knelt, kowtowed thrice with tears in his eyes. He then stood up and tried to comfort her with intangible hands; they trailed over her shoulders and cupped around her face. Jiang Yanli bit her lip and looked away.

After half a shichen of listening to insufferable ceremonies, Jiang Yanli grew impatient. Zixuan noticed her anxious hands and returned by her side. Jiang Yanli took her husband’s hand, “Let’s go see A-Cheng and Ling’er.”

Together they folded the fabric of existence and stepped over to Lotus Pier. Crossing the threshold, they flew over the familiar lotus motif of the training grounds, straightened and then landed before the sword practice hall. Walking down the wooden corridors, Jiang Yanli traced her fingers through the hated cracks and scorch marks left from the Sunshot Campaign. A-Cheng kept them intentionally, persevering their appearance. They served to motivate the new disciples, to guide people in righteousness, and to remind everyone what the sect had once lost.

She glided along the familiar winding paths, missing the way wood once felt beneath her feet. She loved the twists and turns, like life, like rivers, like fate. There was something comforting to the seemingly inefficient corridors of her childhood home. Zixuan trailed behind, commenting occasionally on the beauty of said home.

A few lotus species remained in bloom in the late summer. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan stopped to admire the multi-layered ombre hues; their bodies hovering over the flowers, their hands failing to make the flowers waver at their touch.

When they finally stepped into the Jiang Sect Ancestral Hall, Jiang Yanli realized Lotus Pier had been strangely devoid of people this entire time. Had A-Cheng sent everyone else away?

A pot of Lotus root and pork rib soup, plates of sweet and fragrant pastries, fresh fruit, and fresh lotus pods were set out as offerings for Jiang Yanli, for her parents, and for the other ancestors. A-Cheng sat at the edge of the lotus altar, as she often did after their parents’ death. Ling’er squirmed in A-Cheng’s left arm as his left hand held a wooden tablet. His right hand was pointing at the text on the tablet -- the tablet with her name.

“A-Ling, this is my Jiejie, your mother. She was the most amazing person. I hope you grow up to be strong, kind, and intelligent, just like her,” A-Cheng said as he bounced Ling’er on one knee, his voice cracking as he spoke.

Zixuan let go of her hand and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around her little brother and her child. Shortly after, Zixuan sat down next to her and held his hand out to caress their toddler son. They had missed so many months of his infancy.

“Ling-er is so big now. He has gotten half again as big as he was when I last saw him,” Zixuan said.

Jiang Yanli hovered her hand over her child’s head, “He babbles now. I wonder who he talks to. Is the wetnurse good for him? Does he have friends? Is he lonely? Is there someone to respond to his babbling?” Her vision blurred as she blinked back tears.

The two of them sat by A-Cheng and Ling’er, watching A-Cheng play with the boy and teach the boy. Who would bet someone with as deadly a title as Sandu Shengshou would be so gentle with a child?

Ling’er became fussy and A-Cheng set him down. The baby pulled himself up by A-Cheng’s robes and reached up to ask for A-Cheng’s hand.

“You can do this yourself,” A-Cheng responded gently and shooed Ling’er away from him.

Ling’er’s bottom lip quivered.

“I know you can walk if you try. Look, I’ll catch you if you fall, ok? But at least try. Maybe your parents are here. It would be nice if they were around to see you take your first steps.”

A-Cheng picked up Ling’er, stood up, and set Ling’er next to the altar for stability. Then he took 3 large steps back, squatted down, and motioned for the baby.

Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan watched, captivated by the two of them. Would they really be so lucky to witness their child’s first steps today?

Ling’er reached for his uncle. He took a few steps balanced against the altar and then pushed off. A step, two steps, and then teetered forward. Zidian flew out and caught the child. “A-Ling, good job! If only your mother were here, she would be so proud of your first steps!”

Jin Zixuan yelled, “Zidian! A vicious spiritual weapon was just used on our baby! What is your brother thinking? That’s dangerous!”

Jiang Yanli smiled, “A-niang taught us how to walk like this. Zixian knows bloodlines and the owner’s intent. It can be as steady as a banister while feeling more gentle than a dandelion puff.”

They spent the rest of their day with A-Cheng. They watched Ling’er be fed, be held, be coddled. They watched A-Cheng patiently teaching, softly holding, and playfully carrying the boy. Ling’er clung to A-Cheng and A-Cheng to Ling’er. Afterall, they were the closest blood relatives each other had.

Time flew and night fell. A-Cheng took Ling’er to the market on the docks. Jiang Yanli knew the day was ending; her time here was ending. A-Cheng purchased a violet and gold lotus with nine intricate petals and a candle shaped like a lotus pod. He set Ling’er down and handed the lantern to the boy.

“Hold.”

Ling’er took the lantern by a corner, waved it, and dropped it to play with the lotus pod candle that fell out. Jiang Yanli felt Zixuan’s arm around her waist squeeze her close. If they were still part of the living, watching her brother and her child bond like this would be bliss.

A-Cheng picked up the lantern, took Ling’er’s hands and set the candle inside. He then lit the wick with his spiritual energy. The light from the flame flickered, casting violet and gold shadows over the uncle and nephew duo who belonged to the sects of violet and gold.

A-Cheng swooped Ling’er into an arm and gently set the lantern in the water with his free hand. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan felt themselves drawn towards the lotus lantern. They held each other close and watched A-Cheng walk away with Ling’er towards Lotus Pier. They stood in place but the pull of the lantern carried them away. Lotus Pier slowly faded as they returned to the Earth Offical’s realm.

Notes:

So… there are 3 [something]-yuan festivals. Shang means upper. Zhong means middle. Xia means bottom. They all have an associated saying: for Shangyuan Festival, Heaven Offical’s Blessing (yes, like the title of the novel); for Zhongyuan Festival, Earth Offical’s Pardoning; for Xiayuan Festival, Water Offical’s Salvation. (uh… I chose salvation here because the chinese means relieving/saving from distress/suffering).

I don’t like the sound of A-Ling, so i went with Ling’er. I think JC would try to keep his sister’s naming convention and stick with A-Ling… but I also think Yanli might call Jin Ling Ling’er, especially since er can mean child. E.g. Ying’er LITERALLY means infant so uh… WWX probably didn’t get that name for a reason. XD Though i can see gremlin CSSR calling him that…

Yes, Jin Ling is too young to walk. Maybe JC feeds him spiritual energy when he plays with the baby and so Jing Ling developed a bit faster? IDK. I wanted the story to be set on the Zhongyuan Festival so I fudged childhood development a little. I can also see Jiang Cheng intentionally trying to make Jin Ling do things younger so he can be “better than” or “beat” WWX at things… :/

I think this is only a little sad? Or it starts off sad and ends on an ok note? I’m curious to see what people think

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elexica · 4 years ago

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First Lines Tagging Meme

Oh boy I was tagggged for this one by @alectoperdita @atems-leather-pants @miss-moberg @jenivi7 . . .

So I’m gonna do it, even if it’s hella late!

Rules are: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Links to the fics provided, warnings and content ratings on Archive.

1. It’s Just a Fantasy, Taking Over like a Disease (Paris)

By day, they were almost perfect tourists. The “almost” could be ascribed to the fact that Kojiro was an imperfect travelling companion.

2. Back to You

Kaoru was a very specific kind of torture. He was omnipresent in Kojiro’s life: a never-ending pest, the greatest source of friendship, the only true constant in the fast-paced world of S.

3. Way of the Househusband

The knocking at the door was too timid to mean danger. Still, Ash was awoken and at half-past noon he rolled out of bed, grabbed his sawed-off Smith & Wesson, and steeled his face.

4. We Are Just Like the Waves

As far as anyone else was concerned, Cherry woke up in the hospital, to the rhythmic beat of his heart monitor.

5. Love Me Like You Do

From the moment that Joey had tripped into the CEO’s office, Mr. Kaiba had been an allusive, seductive, scary presence in his life. A combination untouchable prince and unnerving shadow, Kaiba was everywhere and nowhere.

6. Gravitation

“Is this… some sort of shitty poem?”

7. Guardian Ad Litem

Since they’d first met when they were kids, Kaiba had longed to hear the sound of his fist meeting Zigfried’s nose at high velocity.

8. Lotus in the Snow

Atem was a valuable asset to bring along on business trips.

9. Dream Dust

Brooding in the dimly lit, gothic library on campus didn’t make Seto happy per se, but it absolutely felt right.

10. Second Chance Christmas

The sleet fell heavily against the car, turning the view through the windshield into an impressionist painting of abstract asphalt and splotchy red break lights.

11. Someone Else's Debts

“How did you find this address?” Kaiba hissed through the crack in the door. He hadn’t released the chain from the door, and the deadbolt below it hadn’t been dropped either.

12. A Thousand Years in Perfect Symmetry

It was always the same nightmare:

Kaiba was standing on the bridge of the warbird, those glowing green lights radiating off of the lightly metallic tones of his uniform.

13. Zorc 2020

The Four Seasons Total Landscaping as a business didn’t have its own phone number—Joey had a cell phone, and not enough else going on.

14. These are their stories. Dun Dun.

“Man, that was amazing!”

15. Give and Toke

Joey stomped into the new cannabis shop in the neighborhood. It looked like an Apple store: white walls, smooth white tables, iPads and clerks in matching polos.

16. But Only You Can Dance for Me

“He’s basically our in-club security,” Joey said to Atem as he dealt the next round of blackjack in the back room. “Why not just pay him do that?”

17. Workaholic

“Man, I just don’t get it. How can you work so much?”

18. Even If I Destroy this Tower (San Francisco, 2010)

“I don’t love you anymore.”

19. I Couldn't Help But Wonder...

What’s the point of New York Fashion Week if you don’t go home with a billionaire?

20. Always Tomorrow

“We don’t take walk-ins,” Joey said. His shirt was rolled up to the elbow, revealing intricate tattoo sleeves.

I clearly really used to use dialogue to start stories, but I think I’m growing more into setting the scene. That was fun! Thanks y’all! Not tagging anyone since I showed up late haha.

#my fic #my fanfic #yugioh fanfic #sk8 the infinity fanfic #banana fish fanfic #yugioh #sk8 #banana fish

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aiyaar · 4 years ago

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Moments that I liked in Tower of Nero (mostly solangelo moments)

SPOILER ALERT

Pt.1

‘The son of Hades, cavern-runners’ friend,

Must show the secret way unto the throne.

On Nero’s own your lives do now depend.’

Because it's a prophecy about Nico and it made my heart skip a beat

You know that meme with the honey bear and the caption honey, he gay ? Yes, I created that. And in Ganymede’s case, it was hardly news.

This was hilarious. And Rick is finally using the word "gay"

My beautiful son, with his kind eyes, his healer’s hands, his sun-warm demeanour.

Because this is exactly how you describe Will Solace

His boyfriend, Nico di Angelo, hovered at the edge of our reunion – observing, keeping to the shadows, as children of Hades tend to do. His dark hair had grown longer. He was barefoot, in tattered jeans and a black version of the camp’s standard T-shirt, with a skeletal pegasus on the front above the words CABIN 13 .

Nico's Camp Half-blood t-shirt gives me live. Where can I get one?

He didn’t look angry, exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

Heartbreak. Once again.

‘I …’ he faltered. ‘Scusatemi .’

‘He only slips into Italian when he’s really upset.’

My headcanon that Nico slips to Italian when feeling very emotional is a canon now

My son Will emerged from the bathroom in a billow of steam, his blond hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist. On his left pectoral was a stylized sun tattoo, which seemed unnecessary to me – as if he could be mistaken for anything but a child of the sun god.

Will fresh from the shower. Water dripping from his hair. He has a tattoo. I think I just had a heart attack.

‘Yeah,’ Will agreed, his face drawn with worry. ‘They’ve been eating most meals together, though Nico doesn’t eat much these days. Nico has been having … I guess you’d call it post-traumatic stress disorder. He gets flashbacks. He has waking dreams. Dionysus is trying to help him make sense of it all. The worst part is the voices.’

Nico's PTSD is canon.

‘Nico won’t tell me much. Just … someone in Tartarus keeps calling his name. Someone needs his help. It’s been all I could do to stop him from storming down into the Underworld by himself. I told him: talk to Dionysus first. Figure out what’s real and what’s not. Then, if he has to go … we’ll go together.’

Hints to Nico and Will's novel

Will sat next to Nico and put an apple on his empty plate. ‘Eat something.’

‘Hmph,’ Nico said, though he leaned into Will ever so slightly.

Will caring about Nico will never get old. Also I headcanon that nico has an eating disorder along with PTSD. How he's eating is not healthy.

Nico caught my gaze across the table. His dark eyes swam with anger and worry. On his plate, the apple started to wither.

Will squeezed his hand. ‘Hey, stop.’

Will being Nico's emotional support. It just makes my heart melt.

He was deceptively quiet. He appeared anaemic and frail. He kept himself on the periphery. But Will was right about how much Nico had been through. He had been born in Mussolini’s Italy. He had survived decades in the time-warp reality of the Lotus Casino. He’d emerged in modern times disoriented and culture-shocked, arrived at Camp Half-Blood, and promptly lost his sister Bianca to a dangerous quest. He had wandered the Labyrinth in self-imposed exile, being tortured and brainwashed by a malevolent ghost. He’d overcome everyone’s distrust and emerged from the Battle of Manhattan as a hero. He’d been captured by giants during the rise of Gaia. He’d wandered Tartarus alone and somehow managed to come out alive. And, through it all, he’d struggled with his upbringing as a conservative Catholic Italian male from the 1930s and finally learned to accept himself as a young gay man.

All the pain that Nico has been through just breaks my heart. I want to protect him so much. Hope he'll be happy.

Like I might take you out for pizza this weekend,’ Will offered, ‘if you’re not too annoying.’

‘Exactly.’ Nico’s smile was a bit of winter sun breaking between snow flurries.

Solangelo flirting shamelessly. I want to write the fanfic about they date now.

‘William Andrew Solace,’ Nico said, ‘do you have something to confess?’

Will's full name, guys. Nico calling Will by his full name. It's just perfect.

#pjo/hoo #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #tower of nero #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna avila ramirez arellano #nico di angelo #will solace #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey #solangelo

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bts-bringthescenarios · 5 years ago

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Genre: fluff, hints of angst, hints of crack. Pairing: [romantic] female reader + bts!maknae line Contents & Warnings: multiple career!reader, physical contact, swear words, mention of mental health issues.

*** Park Jimin

It had all started with BTS’ increasing concern over Jimin. He seemed to be getting more and more anxious with time. He was such a perfectionist he couldn’t do anything without feeling an intense sense of responsibility: he practiced all the time, he was constantly dieting, he recorded everything countless times until he felt it was close to perfect. If he didn’t achieve the results he strived for, he would become stressed and testy.

One night, Jimin stayed at the BigHit dance practice rooms until very late, going over the same choreography until he felt he had mastered it completely. The trouble was the whole band had spent the entire day practicing, and they were worried Jimin might injure himself if he kept pushing himself so far. So this time they decided to ambush him.

“Okay, music out. This has to stop,” Jin barged in.

“What are you doing? I’m still not confident with the final step sequence!” Jimin protested weakly. Still, he sat down on the ground. He was drenched in sweat and his hands were shaking slightly.

“Then you’ll have to live with the uncertainty,” Hoseok said as he kneeled over Jimin, handing him a bottle of sport beverage.

“You need to rest. Right now,” Taehyung commanded as he sat next to Jimin, eyeing him full of concern.

Jimin downed the bottle, realizing he hadn’t had supper yet, and his lunch had consisted of an apple. He tried to persuade himself that it was best for him to keep practicing, but maybe his brothers were right. He needed to stop.

The next morning they all gathered together with their manager to talk to Jimin about not overexerting himself, and they unanimously decided that he needed to find a new occupation beside the idol life, some way to blow off steam and distract him. They wanted to make sure that his new hobby was laid back, messy and improvisational, so that Jimin could not redirect his perfectionism toward a new activity and he could focus on simply doing whatever he felt like.

That was how BigHit enrolled Jimin in a Clay Sculpting workshop. Horrified, he tried to persuade them to transfer him to any other kind of class: cooking, bartending, painting, expressionist dancing, anything, but BTS and BigHit knew him well, and they knew that anything that meant creating a product or involved dancing would only make things worse. So he began attending the classes, twice a week for two hours. He was not allowed to bring any unfinished projects home, and he had to submit his work every week. This forced him to just turn in whatever he had, regardless of his expectations.

That was how he had met you.

“Okay, (Y/N). Could you please tell us about your piece?” the teacher asked kindly, holding up a bulbous shape so that the rest of the class could see it.

“Well, it was supposed to be a carriage, but looking at it now I’m tempted to just think of it as ‘abstract art’” you scoffed. “I guess I’ll have to name it something pretentious or whatever.”

Everyone laughed, and Jimin felt much more at ease at the fact that the frog that he had been working on looked like a deformed hut with eyes.

At the end of the class, Jimin stepped out of the men’s room, ready to leave, when he overheard a conversation happening in the next room.

“Ugh, I wish they’d let us bring our phones in! No one’s going to believe me,” someone complained.

“No phones allowed, that’s true, but there are no rules over bringing a picture and asking him to sign it. I bet I could sell it for big bucks,” another voice added.

Jimin exhaled silently, deciding to remain hidden until everyone else was gone. He hoped they’d leave soon, Jungkook was picking him up and he was probably waiting in the parking lot already.

“Oh! Let’s ask him next week, (Y/N)!”

“No.” Your voice, firm and clear, resonated in the quiet room, pulling Jimin out of his thoughts. He pressed his ear to the door. “Look, you can do whatever you want, but I’m not going to be a part of this.”

“A part of what?” a man inquired.

“Can you imagine what it must be like?” you countered calmly. “Can you imagine being unable to join a friggin’ clay sculpture class without people harassing you all the time?”

“It’s just an autograph, (Y/N). Jeez,” the same man jeered.

“Yeah, I bet everyone thinks that. And then everyone demands one. All day. Every day.”

A low murmur broke after your words, and Jimin couldn’t hear anything else. Just in case he walked back into the men’s room and remained there until he was positive the classroom was empty.

During the weekend, Jimin found himself thinking about you frequently. He appreciated you standing up for him with that group of people, since he knew it couldn’t have been easy to just go ahead and confront the majority. Besides, there was something very genuine about you, like the way you had mocked your own sculpture. Even the way you spoke felt honest and upfront. He wondered if there’d be a way to talk to you during class.

As it turned out, one of your friends was on vacation and there was a free spot on your table when Jimin walked in. That wasn’t the only good news. It seemed that your words had an impact on the rest of the group, because no one walked to him requesting an autograph or a picture.

Jimin sat next to you slowly, attempting to play it cool, like he’d chosen that seat because whatever. The way his eyes looked away from you bashfully contradicted that notion.

“Hi,” you greeted him smilingly as you put on your apron.

“Hi,” he replied softly. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by being overbearing, so you began preparing the materials in silence. Jimin watched you awkwardly for a second, then he began preparing his things too. He tried to make conversation. “Um… any idea what you’re going to do today?”

“Well, I’ll try to do a lotus flower, ‘try’ being the operative word.”

“I think your carriage last week was pretty good,” Jimin chortled.

“Oh, it’s not a carriage anymore. I’m calling it ‘The Burden of Constantly Failing Clay Class’. It’s an abstract piece,” you joked, and Jimin burst into quiet laughter.

Jimin had a lot of fun with you during the entire class, and he soon discovered that when he didn’t take himself so seriously he actually enjoyed himself immensely. He played with the clay, experiencing the feeling of its texture under his fingers, and shaped up a bird with its wings wide open. Your lotus flower was looking pretty good too, and Jimin suggested you combine the two sculptures after painting them next class.

You walked into the classroom overly excited the next class, and so did Jimin. He had been looking forward to this all week. You worked together again, goofing around with the brushes and joking constantly. When you turned in your final project, the colors were bright and tacky, and it looked quite kitsch. It wasn’t even close to being perfect, but that somehow made you both feel better.

“Why are you taking this class, (Y/N)?” Jimin inquired as you both waited for the rest of your classmates to finish their work.

“Well… I was struggling with negative thoughts, and I needed something to force me to focus on actually doing something regardless of the outcome,” you explained. You didn’t mean to overshare with him, but he looked genuinely interested in knowing and it just slipped out. Besides, you thought, being an idol meant everyone knew so much about him already, it was only fair to give him some personal information about yourself.

“Really? So did I!” he exclaimed impulsively, then looked away, abashed. You smiled at him encouragingly, and he continued. “I was actually working myself too hard, and my brothers decided it was time for me to find a hobby.”

Both of you kept talking until the class was over, and then continued your conversation while Jimin waited for Jungkook to pick him up in the car.

The conversations and joint projects quickly became a routine. This caused a lot of gossip at first, but it died out as time passed and your relationship didn’t change. In truth, you both liked each other quite a lot, but were reticent of asking each other out for different reasons. You didn’t know whether Jimin could date or not, and you were scared you’d make him uncomfortable by asking him out.

Jimin, on the other hand, was simply too shy to do it. Of course, he thought about it quite a lot, and he had formed plans to do it a hundred times, at least. He’d fantasized and daydreamed about it countless hours, perfecting it, but when the time came to act upon it, he systematically chickened out: he walked into the workshop determined to ask for your phone number, but as soon as the class was over he walked away empty handed.

His brothers began to lose patience.

“For fuck’s sake, Jimin, just go and ask her for her phone number after class. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Tell her you want to send her memes or something,” Yoongi complained.

“If you don’t do it yourself I’ll do it for you,” Jeongguk teased.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do it tomorrow,” Jimin whined, trying to end the conversation.

“You make sure he does that, Jeongguk,” Yoongi added maliciously.

Jimin eyed them suspiciously. Maybe Jeongguk really meant what he said. He would have to act on this soon if he wanted to avoid a catastrophe.

Needless to say, Jimin was fidgety during the entire class, paying little attention to his clay project. It was supposed to be a mug, but he didn’t even shape it properly and it looked like some sort of tower. As the end of the class grew impendingly close, his palms began to sweat.

“I can’t believe I even got the handle right,” you boasted, showing your mug to Jimin as you put your projects away to dry so that they could be painted next class. “I mean, if I keep this up you’ll be keeping my best work yet.”

Jimin looked up in alarm, and realization dawned on him. You had promised to give each other the finished mugs last class, but he’d been so caught up with asking you for your number he completely forgot. He looked down at his mug, beginning to despair. He wasn’t sure the thing could even hold any liquid inside it.

As your classmates slowly filed out of the class, Jimin said goodbye quickly, excusing himself by going to the toilet. You felt uneasy. He’d acted weird today. He’d barely talked, his mug looked like a pepper mill and he stumbled over words the whole time. Was something wrong? Should you stay and ask him? You decided it was best to leave, perhaps he needed time alone.

Feeling a little down, you walked out of the building and a chilly breeze tousled your hair, making you shiver. You remembered you left your scarf in the classroom, so you went back to get it. When you opened the door you found Jimin alone, placing his clay mug inside a cardboard box. His eyes darted up and he froze, turning crimson.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “Er… what are you doing?”

Jimin straightened up, eyeing the box guiltily.

“Nothing. I mean, I was just packing the mug.”

“Why are you packing it?” you questioned dubiously. Then you noticed his backpack was open, and he’d made enough space to stuff the cardboard box inside it. “Wait. Were you going to take the mug home?”

“It just needs a few touch ups!” Jimin admitted, biting his lip as you stared at him.

“Jimin, you’re supposed to let it go if it’s not perfect, remember?” you protested, your voice soft and understanding. “Are you having anxious thoughts again?”

“No, not at all. That’s not it.”

“Then why are you so worried about it?”

“Because I forgot we were going to swap mugs!” he confessed. “My mind was elsewhere and I completely forgot, like an idiot. I want you to have something nice. I don’t want you keeping this— this—” he trailed off, glaring at the box.

You were so touched by his words it took you a few seconds to react.

You walked around the table to stand next to him and placed your hands over his shoulders, softly holding him in place as you fixed your eyes on his.

“Jimin, I want you to understand something. I don’t care if the mug’s pretty or artsy or whatever. You know what I care about? The fact that you took the time and trouble to make it for me. That’s it. I’ve been watching you work on that mug, and I already love it. So put it back to dry, or so help me.”

You had meant for the playful threat to make him laugh, but instead Jimin remained still, his eyes burning with emotion. Of course you would have the perfect answer. Of course you would made him feel exactly right. As he pondered this, he discovered this was his chance to take the leap, and he was sure that he wanted to take it.

Carefully evaluating your reaction, Jimin hesitantly lifted his hands to your back and pulled you just a fraction closer. The movement was enough for you to understand what he was trying to do. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears. You slid your hands up his neck gently, grazing your fingertips over his hair.

As he held you in his arms, Jimin’s shyness faded away. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your bodies closer together, so close you could taste his breath on your tongue. It lured you in, and for the briefest moment you touched his lips with yours.

The sound of the elevator doors opening, followed by a series of footsteps in the hallway, had you pulling away from each other hastily. You had just enough time to collect yourselves before Jeongguk strolled in through the door.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long? Class was over like fifteen minutes ago—” he stopped, his eyes darting from you to Jimin’s unmoving figures.

“Oh,” he whispered as he understood what was going on. “You must be (Y/N).”

Knowing that Jimin had talked to Jeongguk about you made your heart flutter. It had the opposite effect on Jimin, though.

“We were just talking right now. Could you please wait for me in the car?” he snapped, indignation winning over the embarrassment.

“Okay,” Jeongguk replied and made to leave. Then he stopped in his tracks and turned around, a bit flustered. “I’m sorry, but I promised Yoongi-hyung I would check...”

Jimin’s stomach dropped. Oh, no he wouldn’t. His eyes narrowed dangerously at his brother, unspoken threats festering behind them. Jeongguk seemed to reconsider for a second, but then he squared his shoulders and stared at you.

“(Y/N), Jimin’s supposed to ask you for your phone number. You know, to send you memes and stuff.”

Jimin learned there and then that it was not possible to die of shame, because if it were he would have dropped dead at that precise moment. He turned to look at your expression to measure the damage Jeongguk had done. For what felt like an eternity you appeared to be confused, your face scrunched up in concentration. Then, to his immense relief, the corners of your mouth quirked up into a wide grin.

“He was just getting to that before you walked in,” you affirmed happily, having realized that he had been so nervous during class because he’d been meaning to ask you out.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jeongguk mumbled, then turned around and walked out.

None of you spoke until the elevator shut its doors with Jeongguk inside it.

“So, would you like to take down my number?” you asked innocently, trying to break the ice.

“I am… so sorry. I don’t even know how to begin to make up for what just happened. Memes...” he whispered to himself as he looked away, overcome with indignation.

You beamed at him, trying not to laugh at his expression. When he gazed at you again, it knocked the air out of him. You were glowing: your eyes, your skin, your lips, everything seemed to have become even more beautiful.

Jimin understood then that his chagrin was silly, because your feelings mirrored his own. He grinned at you and held your hands in his.

“I could begin to make amends tomorrow night. Can I buy you dinner?” he asked, turning a light shade of pink.

“Please,” you answered, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

***

Kim Taehyung

The other members didn’t mind it as much when someone from the BigHit team took their pets to the vet because it was unavoidable, but not Taehyung. Sometimes it couldn’t be helped, but he did the best he could to always be there for Yeontan when he needed his routine vaccinations or when he was ill. He would fuss and get stressed about it all the time, distrusting the vets, until another idol shared with him the number of her favorite vet in the city, who happened to have a home health service.

That was how he had met you. Taehyung was immediately smitten with you since the first time you stepped on the dorm and all the members’ pets greeted you affectionately as if they’d known you forever. Even Yeontan was happily rubbing itself against your shins in demand of your attention before you had removed your coat. Oh yes, Taehyung had crushed on you instantly, and it wasn’t only because he found you very attractive, but also that you were humble, kind and easygoing. You greeted the boys warmly and set to work immediately, listening to all of their questions and lovingly stroking their pets as you checked them up. And what was even better, you treated them as normal people.

When it was Yeontan’s turn to have his medical examination Taehyung lingered protectively around him, but he soon realized it was unnecessary: his pup was so comfortable with you he needn’t be worried. So instead he decided to watch you work, paying close attention to the way you frowned when you were listening to Tan’s heart through the stethoscope, or the graceful movements of your fingers as you checked inside his ears. You were so concentrated on Yeontan’s examination that you didn’t notice Taehyung gawking at you admiringly, nor how his mouth was hanging open during the entire check up.

After suggesting to swap the food brand to make Yeontan gain a bit of weight and arranging to come in a few weeks for his routine vaccination, you asked Taehyung if he had any questions, still holding his pet in your arms as he licked your hand affectionately.

“Is there a place where I can come see you?” he inquired dreamily, and taking into account your bewildered expression, he added, “you know, if I have any questions or if there’s an emergency.”

“Sure, you can come over to the clinic or just call me at any time,” you beamed at him as you handed him a business card with your address.

Immediately after you left, Taehyung secured your card carefully in his wallet and made sure to write down your address in his phone as well. During the next week he tried to restrain himself from getting in touch with you, but he couldn’t help daydreaming about asking you out. He tried to content himself by looking forward to your next visit, but the more time passed, the harder it became for him to ignore the little card tucked in his wallet.

Unable to resist any longer, Taehyung texted you pretending to have forgotten the brand of dog food you’d recommended. You wound up chatting for a while, where he sent you pictures of Yeontan and, of course, a really cute selfie with a wide, boxy smile and his pup in his arms. Then the following day he dropped by your veterinary clinic to purchase the dog food, and he later sent you a video of Yeontan eating his meal happily. Five days later he swung by again, explaining that someone had mysteriously thrown away Yeontan’s food so he needed to buy some more.

During this whole time you had tried very hard to maintain a professional relationship. Honestly, you really tried. But how was it possible to keep a polite distance when he was so sweet and attentive? You tried to be strong and remain emotionally detached since the idea of getting romantically involved with a worldwide famous idol was scary to say the least, and besides, he surely met a lot of interesting women all the time in his industry. You thought he might get bored of talking to you, or he would eventually be too busy to keep it up.

Well, that didn’t happen, not even when he left on a tour for two weeks. He texted you regularly, and despite beginning your daily conversations with a pretext, like Yeontan shivering while he slept or not being hungry, every single time he found a way to keep talking to you about something else, bombarding you with questions about your personal life and telling you funny stories of his daily routine being an idol. Eventually, Taehyung gathered up enough courage to ask you if you were dating someone. When you read that text, your hands were shaking with so much excitement that you nearly dropped your phone. That was the moment you finally accepted that you had utterly and completely messed up your plan to remain emotionally detached.

Needless to say that when the time came for you to go back to the dorms and vaccinate Yeontan, both of you were giddy and excited. Taehyung was head over heels for you, and he promised himself he would ask you out today. He woke up extra early to shower, fix his hair and carefully select his outfit. He spent an entire thirty minutes deciding what perfume to wear, trying them all on the other members, and the last hour before your arrival he brushed his teeth three times.

“So at what time is the hot vet coming?” Jeongguk inquired, a bit concerned after watching Taehyung rinse his mouth yet again.

“Please don’t call her that. It only makes me more nervous to remember how beautiful she is,” Taehyung muttered, anxiously checking his phone again.

“Take it easy, Taehyungie,” Jimin said as he patted his back soothingly. “You’ve been texting all the time for weeks now. I’m sure she’ll accept to go on a date with you.”

When you finally rang the bell, Taehyung stood in front of the door for a second and took a deep breath to collect himself, energetically flattening his shirt with his hands to remove any wrinkles. And when he opened the door, you looked so pretty you knocked the air out of him and he forgot all the things he planned to say to play it cool.

“(Y/N)! You look— I mean, I’m happy to see you again. Hi,” he said, picking up Yeontan from the ground and bringing him close to you so you could pet him.

You were breathless, too. You noticed how handsome Taehyung looked, and for a second it seemed surreal to you that this man had been flirting with you this whole time. Were you absolutely sure he liked you? Maybe you had read too much into your relationship. You had refrained from asking your friends’ advice in the matter because you didn’t want to expose him, but now that you were insecure about his feelings you felt like you should have asked your best friend about her opinion, even if you didn’t tell her who it was you were texting with.

As he closed the door, Taehyung debated with himself whether he should help you remove your coat or not, but before he knew it you were already placing it on the hanger. He scolded himself for being inattentive and decided to compensate by offering you something to drink, only to realize he had forgotten to boil water for tea.

Luckily, Jimin walked in at that very moment and greeted you warmly, after which he said he had prepared some infusions and invited you to the living room. As you walked through the door with your back to both of them, Jimin gave Taehyung two thumbs up, silently mouthing ‘I got you covered’.

The three of you sat down for a few minutes drinking tea and making small talk while Yeontan perched himself comfortably on your lap, after which Jimin excused himself and left Taehyung and you alone. For a second you were afraid you’d be too nervous to talk, but then you noticed Taehyung smiling affectionately at Tan, who had fallen asleep on top of you. Just by looking at him you felt a fuzzy warmth radiating inside you and spreading all over your body.

“I’m glad he likes you so much,” he whispered, his eyes now on yours.

“It definitely makes things easier for my job,” you replied, grinning as you softly rubbed behind Tan’s ears.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Taehyung interrupted, after which he got up and sat beside you, careful not to wake Yeontan. He thought for a moment, wondering why it was so relaxing for him to know Yeontan approved of you so completely. Perhaps it was because Tan was family, and Taehyung wanted him to like you because he liked you. He stretched his hand to stroke the sleeping pup, wondering how to correctly translate these feelings into words, when his fingers accidentally brushed against you.

Taehyung’s hand froze in midair, hovering over your skin as he waited for you to react. Without a word, you lifted your arm slightly, and a small smile spread across Taehyung’s face as you pressed your arm to his palm. Encouraged by your advance, he wrapped his hand gently around your arm and let it slide softly up and down, simply enjoying the feeling until he entwined his fingers with yours. Then his other hand delicately lifted your chin as his thumb caressed your cheek. When you looked up, his face was so close to yours his breath ghosted across your lips.

Taehyung fixed his eyes on yours, wordlessly asking for your permission. You closed your eyes and leaned in.

Yeontan abruptly jumped out of your lap and ran to meet Min Holly at the door. Right behind them Yoongi was silently but frantically gesturing for his own dog to follow him, having realized he was interrupting you in a rather... intimate moment. Yet when he noticed Yeontan had joined Holly, he looked up apologetically and awkwardly waved his hand at you.

“Hi, doc,” he said, bending down to pick up Holly and Yeontan in his arms. “Sorry for the interruption. Let me just—”

Taehyung shut his eyes tightly, grinding his teeth together. You leaned away from him, fixing a stray lock of hair behind your ear to compose yourself. It was hopeless, though, since you were blushing furiously.

“Hi, Min Yoongi. Is everything okay? I can examine Min Holly later,” you said, attempting to dissipate the awkwardness.

“Maybe some other time,” he replied, giving Taehyung a meaningful look, and he shut the door behind him.

You gazed back at Taehyung, who looked absolutely demoralized. However, you took it as a good sign that your fingers were still interlinked, and decided to place your free hand over his.

“Are you alright, Taehyung?” you asked soothingly.

Even though he was brutally disappointed by how your first kiss had turned out, the way his name sounded in your voice made him feel immediately better. He realized you must have been dissatisfied by this whole ordeal too. Taehyung decided to make the best out of the situation and actually continue with the plan he had originally outlined, where he asked you out first and kissed you second.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung fixed you with a serious, intense expression. When he saw your encouraging smile and felt the warmth of your hands wrapping his, the words effortlessly slipped out of his mouth.

“(Y/N), I really like you. Would you go out on a date with me?”

You beamed at him and nodded, nudging his hand.

“Great,” he grinned. He stood up and pulled you up with him, biting his lips as he drank in your excited smile, then he raised an eyebrow. “Are you free right now?”

Yeontan’s vaccination could wait another week.

***

Jeon Jeongguk

“(Y/N)! I’ll cover you!” Jeongguk yelled, his headset lopsided, as he hammered his fingers against the joysticks. Despite your efforts, you were losing miserably in this game of Overwatch. When you were finally brought down by your enemies, Jeongguk exhaled loudly and slumped against the back of the couch, dropping the Switch beside him. He could hear your sigh echoing from the headset.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t see Hanzo on time, I was distracted,” he apologized angrily.

“Don’t be silly, if I had better aim we wouldn’t have lost,” you answered back in your own house as you opened a bag of chips and began munching them down in frustration.

“What are you eating?”

“Barbeque chips,” you said in a muffled voice.

“I wish you were here,” he groaned unhappily.

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t think of getting your own chips,” you countered.

“No, I mean it,” he laughed, his good mood disappearing once he noticed it was getting late. “I have to go. I’ll be back home on Saturday. Will you drop by the dorms for supper?”

“Of course,” you chimed, thrilled to know you’d see Jeongguk soon. “I get out of work at seven, I’ll go after that.”

“I’ll get you something tasty.”

The tour had lasted forever, and even though you’d joined Jeongguk in Europe for two weeks during your vacation, it still felt like the longest time ever. As best friends since childhood you had always been supportive of each other: you knew exactly how to make Jeongguk laugh, and he knew exactly how to make you feel better. Jeongguk was convinced that he wouldn’t be the man he was if it weren’t for you, which was why he was so intent on protecting your friendship at all costs from anything that might jeopardize it, even his own feelings.

This task, however, was becoming increasingly difficult to accomplish. During your visit to Europe he’d been this close to ruining everything by kissing you several times. He found it particularly hard to control himself when he saw you waiting for him backstage with your arms open after a show, or when you confided in him with tears in your eyes how much you were struggling with your exams. He wanted to be with you so much it almost overwhelmed the terror he felt about losing you.

You, on the other hand, were not doing much better. You tried seeing other people, but it never lasted longer than a date or two. At first you thought you weren’t in the mood for a relationship, but you eventually discovered that you were constantly comparing your dates to the time you spent with Jeongguk: ‘I’d rather be playing something with Jeongguk’, or ‘Jeongguk would love this place’, or ‘I can’t wait to tell this joke to Jeongguk’. Your friends, tired of hearing you talk about him all the time, already knew what was going on before you reluctantly accepted that you were in love with him. After all, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

You had travelled to Europe with the purpose of confessing your feelings to him, but when the time came you chickened out. Besides, Jeongguk was always so tired and busy you didn’t have the heart to bring it up.

On Saturday afternoon, Namjoon walked into Jeongguk’s room and sat on the bed as the maknae unpacked his bags hastily.

“We only just got home. Why don’t you unpack tomorrow?” Namjoon inquired, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

“(Y/N) is coming over and I want everything to look normal.”

“Oh right, I forget (Y/N) freaks out when confronted with packed luggage,” Namjoon replied sarcastically.

“I’m not doing it because it would upset her,” Jeongguk answered testily, “I just want her to see that my room is tidy and I have my life together.”

“I’m sorry, Jeongguk, but I’m not following,” Namjoon insisted innocently. In reality, he knew full well about Jeongguk’s feelings for you. He had tried to broach the topic several times, but Jeongguk had shut himself in like a clam everytime. Namjoon knew Jeongguk was being stupidly stubborn about this, so he hadn’t given up on the subject.

Jeongguk didn’t answer at first. He just kept putting the dirty laundry in the hamper and folding his clean clothes back in the closet. When he was done, he suddenly felt helpless. He sat on the bed next to his hyung and hung his head in his hands.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mumbled.

“I know what you’re doing,” Namjoon explained, patting his brother’s back softly, “you’re evading yourself.”

“Hyung, she is the most important person in the world to me,” Jeongguk mumbled, twisting his fingers in his hair. “What if I fuck it up?”

“That’s a possibility,” Namjoon conceded, “But what if you don’t?”

Jeongguk pondered for a while, allowing the fantasies he’d been constantly repressing to overwhelm him. He saw you smiling as you walked holding hands. He saw you kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He saw himself pulling your top off, his lips tracing the curve of your neck…

“Listen, you don’t have to figure it out tonight,” Namjoon hinted, interrupting Jeongguk’s reverie, “but I think you should give yourself a chance. She won’t toss you away if she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and if she does feel the same way…”

“Thanks, hyung,” he cut him short, and smiled apologetically at Namjoon. He was grateful for his advice, but he wanted some time on his own to reflect. Namjoon knew when Jeongguk had enough, so he let it rest.

“I need to think about this. I’ll go have a shower,” Jeongguk stated as he got up purposefully.

In preparation for the night, Jeongguk had placed an order for Chinese takeout and shuffled around the house, tidying up and all in all getting into the other member’s nerves. He was trying really hard not to anticipate the possibility of confessing his feelings, so he kept himself busy until the bell rang.

The moment Jeongguk opened the door, you pounced at him and hugged him so tightly you were afraid his ribs would crack. Jeongguk lifted you from the ground and spun you around, laughing loudly and forgetting all about his anxieties. You walked together to his room, chatting excitedly and bumping into each other like drunks, just for the pleasure of being close enough to actually touch each other. No more depending on texting and video calls, at least for a while.

“I’m warning you: I have a lot to tell you about college drama, so you better be ready to stay up all night,” you exclaimed as you sat on top of his bed with your legs crossed. He shut the door and sat opposite to you, grinning widely.

“Are you kidding me? You better be ready for all the stuff I have to tell you about the tour. If I catch you dozing off I won’t be forgiving.”

For a long time you both chatted excitedly, and as the exhilaration gradually wore off the conversation became deeper, more emotional. You talked about family issues, about feelings of inadequacy in social situations and about stress from working and studying, until the conversation eventually drifted to a more sensitive topic for your relationship.

“So…” Jeongguk began, unable to resist the morbid curiosity he felt. “Have you been dating anyone?”

Your cheeks flared up and you looked down, suddenly very focused on pulling a loose thread from the bed cover. Jeongguk held his breath.

“No,” you admitted. Jeongguk exhaled in relief. “And you?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” you demanded, looking up again. “I bet you meet a lot of interesting people all the time.”

“I do meet a lot of interesting people. I just don’t want to date them,” he answered defensively.

Why did he have to make things more difficult for you? Maybe if he was dating someone you’d be able to move on. Then again, maybe not.

“I don’t get you, Jeongguk,” you protested, your cooped up fears and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You have the chance to go on dates with so many cool people, but you decide not to?”

“And what about you?” he fired back. “What about your classmates in college?”

“What about them?” you challenged.

“I bet they’re so smart, you could have intellectual debates or whatever—” he began, too aggravated to restrain himself.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you hissed, feeling increasingly incensed.

“I know some of them have asked you out!”

“So?”

“Well, don’t they count as interesting people to date?”

“I don’t want to date them!”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” you snapped, out of control.

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. You panted for a few seconds, your anger sizzling until a feeling of ice cold mortification took over you.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. What had you done?

“You’re in love with me?” Jeongguk whispered.

“I— I just...” you babbled, panicking. You weren’t ready for this discussion. You weren’t planning on this. “I’m sorry, Jeongguk, I can’t right now, I— I think I need to leave.”

You jumped up and pulled the door open, but Jeongguk caught your hand and turned you around before you could walk out.

“Don’t go,” he begged. You tried to look away, but he cupped your face in his hands. He held you so softly, so caringly that you looked back into his eyes despite your chagrin. And when you read the expression on his face, you stopped resisting.

Jeongguk’s eyes bore into yours, his lips parted, and it felt like you were looking at each other for the first time in your lives. His thumb grazed against your cheekbone, and you both remained still and quiet for what felt like an eternity. You raised your hand and caressed his temple, sinking your fingers in his hair. Jeongguk closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of your touch. Then he huddled closer to you and lifted your chin, lowering his head slowly to yours so that your lips were level.

You didn’t hear the footsteps on the carpet. Jimin turned around the corner of the corridor, carrying a bag of Chinese takeout in his arms. Jeongguk and you were wound tightly in an embrace, your faces so close to each other that Jimin knew this was no friendly hug.

As soon as he realized what was going on Jimin tried to walk away quietly before you noticed him. However, as he attempted to tiptoe backward the paper bag crackled in his arms. The sound of of it broke the spell, and Jeongguk and you jumped away from each other. You stared at Jimin dumbfoundedly, too confused and surprised to feel embarrassed yet.

“Hi (Y/N),” Jimin’s voice was strained. “Um, Jeongguk... I brought you the takeout you ordered.”

The three of you looked at the bag, then back at each other, like idiots. Jimin clumsily stepped forward and handed Jeongguk the takeout.

“Thanks,” Jeongguk mumbled.

Jimin stepped back awkwardly, biting his lip. Then he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Look, I’m sorry I interrupted, and I know I shouldn’t say this right now but I’m really glad you both got over yourselves and this is finally happening,” he blurted out, articulating every word so fast it almost made you dizzy. "Okay, bye!"

Jimin turned around and strode away at an inhuman speed.

For a few seconds, neither of you said a word. Then Jeongguk gestured you to go into his room. Once you were both inside, he locked the door, placed the bag away and turned to face you, a determined expression on his face. Now that it was out in the open, he needed to say the words, and he needed you to hear him say them.

“(Y/N), I love you. I always have. I don’t want to date anyone else, only you.”

Jeongguk’s voice was clear and steady, and his eyes burned with intensity as he spoke. It made you feel like laughing and crying at the same time.

“Jimin’s right, we’ve been so stupid,” you giggled bashfully, and took a step closer to him. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest and began planting soft kisses on the fringe of your hair, on your eyebrows, on the bridge of your nose. You pulled away just an inch to look him in the eyes. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, it’s just—”

“I know,” Jeongguk said, and he kissed you in a very non-platonic way.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts reactions #maknae line #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #v

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