summary; it was a very big surprise to xiao and ganyu that they would be meeting the next adeptus in line. especially when the next adeptus is a child.
genre; fluff, this is just family, i need emotional support from liyue god family, dad! zhongli, child! reader, ALL PLATONIC, zhongli is a doting dad and i will die on that hill, dragon hybrid! reader, xiao is just a grumpy older brother, angst (if you squint,,, like really hard), i swear to god if someone comments peepaw zhongli i will cry /j
word count; 1.05k
masterlist | < previous | next >
[gender neutral]
warnings: none
the child is still 1 year old :)
a/n; slight filler with some more lore on little spirit reader before they became a dragon <3 it took me a while to pick back up on this series, please forgive me and i hope you enjoy
you never understood the concept of family. you were but a mere spirit who only watched over a whole village once upon a time, so how much did you really know? even zhongli had called you very young for your age as a spirit. he had mentioned that this was expected to be your form since your spirit years translated to human years. you really knew nothing. it was a scary realization as you thought about it for a little too long. you nearly bursted out in tears of fear, upon the revelation, knowing that you knew nothing about the world you were put into because of some selfish wish of yours.
zhongli seemed to pick up on your lack of excitement today as you had been held by him the whole day without complaint or whines from you. heck, you even tolerated childe as you rested in zhongli’s arms. it was very concerning for him, especially when it was hard to communicate to you in your current baby state.
“my dear y/n, what’s wrong?” it only took those words from your parental figure to make you start sobbing. hands smacking against your eyes in a weak attempt to wipe any tears and snot that was dripping down your face as you could only speak in warbled unintelligible words. “oh my poor baby..” before you even knew it, he was holding you ever so gently, speaking so softly and drying your tears the best he could. he finally understood the pain of being a parent to such young children. he couldn’t stand to see you be so sad and have him be unable to fix it. he wished he knew what to do, he could only comfort you until you would settle down. “i’m sorry i cannot help you..” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours as if your thoughts would move over to his.
your body was fuzzy with warmth, it felt… familiar. where have you felt this warmth?
your formless self floating with the wind and checking every mine in the bustling village. the warmth.. it was so nice.. the chattering of villagers wanting either riches for themselves or family, you remember it all.
you miss it so much. but then you remember the families.. family.. you wanted that so badly. but you had that with zhongli now. right? that’s his warmth. you could feel it. you always have. why did it feel so different yet so familiar now? you can feel yourself settle down with every calm word he speaks. “you are not the spirit you were before. you are not alone.” you can feel his fingers gently tap against your horns and rub your hair. “this world is not just yours alone to experience. i am here with you.” you relax in his arms as he brushes his fingers through your little flecks of growing hair.
“are you feeling better now?” he asked, watching as you look up at him with teary eyes. “my poor dragon, i’m here.” he muttered, “would you like your blanket?” you manage to blubber out something akin to a yes, letting zhongli rest you against his chest. he's gentle with you, scared that you might break like glass, wrapping your soft f/c blanket around your tiny little body. somehow the cocoon-like feeling makes you feel better, you start to settle into the fluff of the blanket as you let out something close to a purr. "would you like to take a nap, dear? or do you want to take a walk with me? oh, but i'm not really sure if you would be okay with going out after so much crying.." you can only blink at him slowly, barely mustering something close to a sound of agreement.
"i think you would be better off with a nap." he decided, walking over to the small library corner his home had and sitting in the large comfy chair. he grabbed a quilt blanket, laying it over his lap before he carefully grabbed a book. "i hope you don't mind me reading to you." and read he did, reading the modern day books he had brought as you rest in his arms. but one particular story rung clear to you.
"this is the story of a spirit living with humans. though maybe not in the way that you would expect." you can feel zhongli's beating heart and the rumbles of his chest while he speaks as you rest on his chest. it nearly lulls you to a deep sleep but something tells you to stay up just a little longer to hear his story. "back in an old village, one that bustled with children and adults, families lived and mined many ores for the sake of mora. however, with the mineshafts came some concerning dangers, whether it be collapsing rocks or lethal injuries. but there was a spirit."
he paused to look at you, your eyes glossy with curiosity and wonder as you wait for his next words. a gentle smile paints his face, his hand moving to rub your cheek just for a moment before he continues to read.
"there was a spirit that protected the village. this spirit would keep the monsters at bay and the dangers of cave mining away from the peaceful village. no one could hear the spirit but everyone could feel the love and care it had put into protecting the village." you can feel the scales on your cheeks puff out, not in frustration this time, but in sheepish pride.
did people really feel your presence protecting them? did they really feel the love you wished to give to the families for giving you a chance to be the spirit you wanted to be?
“while their legacy was not for long, many souls rested happily knowing that even when they left the village, there would be a spirit protecting them in their lives to keep them safe. hm.. sounds familiar, am i correct, my little one?” his eyes glint with mischief and smugness as he watches you squirm in your blanket cocoon, knowing that this was indeed your story he had just told to you.
“i think that’s enough story for you, dear. do rest my child. i will be here for you when you wake up once again.”
↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES
The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.
pairing: gangster!yoongi x flapper!reader
word count: 8k
genre: 1920s au, smut, mafia au
warnings: unprotected rough sex, face fucking, power play, choking, alcohol, guns, and death
A/N: Part of my time period series. This takes place in 1920s Chicago! Thank you @introseesaw for letting me use her likeness!
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
“Would ya lighten up, sourpuss? The boss said he’d be back in a jiffy.” The familiar voice of your friend, Doyeon, called to you.
You let out a sigh as she bumped her hip into yours, causing you to pull your eyes away from where your boss had disappeared to.
You pouted, “That was ten minutes ago.”
When you overheard your boss talking about some cops causing trouble out front, you couldn’t help but be on edge. With the 18th amendment now in place, establishments such as the very one you worked in had been pushed underground, trying to work around the ban on alcohol.
Keep reading
my neighbor totoro [となりのトトロ ] + nature & rain
Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Some thirsty comments and cursing, but no smut. Established relationship and lots of fluffy moments. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me. Reader not being a student and being an Adult Adult (tm). A big fancy ball because I decided not some hum drum party was gonna do. (I'm the writer, I can do what I want). I rip off YouTube comments and Ana Huang and stuff I see on Tiktok and Instagram.
A/N: For @holdmytesseract's request! I am sorry this took a while due to stuff happening, but here it is!!!
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr
You always visited the campus coffee shop on Mondays at 10 am to overhear students being thirsty for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at their comments. They were leaving their English Literature Survey class. Only they weren’t discussing books.
“Sooo nice of him to lower the word count for the essay, he knows it’s a lot.”
“Holy crap, did you see how tight his shirt was today? I could practically see his titties.”
“He needs to quote Shakespeare again. I think I’m developing a kink.”
“If I caught my girl in bed with Professor Hiddleston, I’d tuck him in.”
“If I was at the club and Professor Hiddleston was hitting on my girl, I’d start to cry…because he didn’t choose me.”
“I’m a hardcore lesbian, but Professor Hiddleston is on my cheat card.”
“I’m a hardcore asexual, but Professor Hiddleston is so hot that if I had to get pregnant I’d want him to do the honors.”
You sipped up your drink, sitting in a far corner. Smiling bright as you heard them. Stifling a laugh so hard you could feel your drink always threatened to snort out of your nose. You would cup your face, ensuring they didn’t take note of you. Even get out the notes app on your phone to type them down. Not that you’d ever show him.
He was their hot Professor. But to you, he was just Tom.
Just Tom. A boyfriend who cared for you respected you, and listened to you. Who did the bare minimum and so much more. They didn’t know his flaws, living with each other's smells and body odors and functions and insecurities. And the little, beautiful moments that made you all the more in love with him. How you would both go to bookstores and geek out after certain works, make a mess in the kitchen trying a new recipe, or stay in your pajamas until 1 pm watching something on the TV. Did they know how loud he snored at night? Or how sensitive his neck was? Or that he was fidgety if he sat too long?
Then one of them said “His girlfriend is one lucky ass bitch. I wonder what she’s like?”
“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!” one asked.
They all shot up like meerkats with big smiles.
You froze, only staring quietly at your drink.
Tom didn’t talk about you in class. Nothing. Nada. Goose eggs. They didn't know you existed.
So far you were sure they were not little homewreckers- not successfully, at least. You trusted Tom and he trusted you and his students respected his boundaries. But he blocked them on social media so they wouldn’t dig anything about him. Tom was a private person and he wanted that to be respected by his students.
When you both met to hang out and make dinner later that evening- his special Spaghetti bolognese recipe, he gave you a hug and kiss on your head.
“Oh, you missed a spot!” you teased.
His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses.
“Oh- uh,” he voiced out.
You dived in to kiss him on the lips, his beard scratching your chin.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Oh, just fine. Your students were…wondering about me today. I saw them at the shop.”
“They didn’t recognize you?”
“No- they don’t know what I look like. Or about me, period…we’ve kept it that way…”
Both of you got into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing the pasta and sauce. It smelled of garlic, onion, and olive oil, making your stomach rumble. How easily smelling that in a kitchen could solve all of your problems!
He smiled at you. Then, as the pasta was set to boil in the pot, he turned to you. His sleeves rolled up (making you giddy inside) and his face was a little flushed from the heat of the steam from cooking.
“My angel, I don’t want to keep you in hiding- and you shouldn’t.”
“Tom, what do you mean?” you asked. You stirred the sauce, then tapped the spoon and set it on a jar for attempted cleanliness.
I love you. And this is a part of my life…would you like to meet them? I promise you, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them!”
He went up to hug you from behind and you watched the simmering food.
You paused, taking in a breath. What were you afraid of? Were you ashamed of Tom or being with him? No, not a bit.
You turned around to face him.
“They’re college kids. They’re basically puppies…I think I’d like to meet them.” you agreed
--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---
You both decided what event it should be that you would meet them. There were events called Bookish Balls that were all the rage now. It was a prom for adults. Proms where everyone dressed like fantasy characters and showed off costumes and even cosplays. It was everything from complex armor to a dress with some elf ears on.
You knew he had a Shakespearean-era outfit from a play he did that he kept you just had to find the right look. It would be more exciting and less creepy then if you jumped on them at the mall like a pair of stalkers.
And the ball looked like fun.
You and Tom both arrived. He was in his Shakespearean garb and crown. You had your own outfit- you adored it. You couldn’t help but look at each large mirror you walked by as you walked down the dim hallways with carpeted floors.
All the students were talking about it- tickets were 60 percent off for students. Since they were all raving about these hot new fantasy books between their required reading of Dickens. They all rattled their iced coffees like maracas and gossiped and shared pics of their outfits on their phones every day before class according to Tom. Most of them would all be there.
Little did they know their Professor was going to be there, as well as his girlfriend.
You both arrived at the fine, fancy hotel. Tom was dressed in his leather doublet and pants with a large cape and a grand crown. Ever the king. You had splurged on the fancy outfit you wanted badly- and you felt as if you were a heroine in a story as you walked through.
“You look stunning- they’re going to adore you,” Tom assured you.
You hoped so. If they met you and humiliated you in some way tonight or after, you would move to Antarctica and learn to speak penguin.
Taking his arm and feeling like royalty, you both went down the fine large building. You saw people gathered. There were some stage lights and the large gala room had trees with flowers everywhere as well as thrones, little game booths photo booths, and a banquet. And, of course, a packed dance floor. A live band played. Many people wore crowns and wings and elf ears and were dancing away with zeal. Women twirled their ballgown skirts with smiles so big it lit them up. Many flicked their capes dramatically or wrapped around them like blankets. There were fairy lights and glitter everywhere and there were photo ops and even a costume contest. It was in full sway.
Including a crowd that included Tom’s students. They jumped up in time to the song, breathlessly singing along to every word.
Tom held out your hand, both of you feeling like the king and queen looking over their jubilant subjects. You both walked down. Hoping your outfit looked as nice on you as you hoped it would.
The song was entering its last chorus. The student's backs were turned and their capes and wings were bouncing as they danced. They hadn’t noticed you yet.
He went to his group of students and cleared his throat. At once they turned their heads.
They looked at him and then you and their jaws dropped.
Tom said.“hello, here is Y/N, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He then leaned you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
All of their eyes bugged out of their skulls and jaws dropped like broken nutcrackers among them.
You were worried the girls in the group would glare at you like they were going to rip out your stomach intestines.
But instead, all of them collapsed into a collective “AAaaaaawwwwwww, hello!” and “What?! WHAT?!” Their eyes flitted toward Tom in tight leather (who wouldn’t?) and you in your presence.
You went up like in any social situation. You gave them a smile- warm, genuine, polite, and friendly.
“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you- I heard all about you guys!”
You shook their hands. You got to meet them and learn names- Kelly, Hailey, Jessie, Emily, Daniel, Isaiah, Chase, Cameron, Kat, Miranda, Edgar, and so many more your head spun. But you eventually got it with practice.
But they let you dance with them. Be relaxed and have fun. It moved from a band to a playlist of all the classic dance songs. The band blasted Single Ladies and the girls invited you, dragging you in. You tried to copy the moves from the music video, but couldn’t quite and they all burst into laughter anyway.
It then slowed down- it was a ballad, the Cody Fry song about falling in love being like a symphony.
“Well…could I have a dance with my lady?” Tom asked, holding out his hand.
They gasped and looked at you.
“Oh, what a gentleman! I’d be delighted!” you said, accepting his hand.
They let you and Tom have a slow dance- how handsome he looked in the light, beaming at you. They smiled as if they were watching a rom-com at the end. There were no angry glares- at most, some looked a little reflective and sad. But none dared interrupt the moment with you and Tom.
Would they hate you after seeing the affection?
If so, they shut their mouths and minded their beeswax about it.
There were loads of pictures- you were willing to take some (they were seeing you as the surrogate Adult Adult more than their adults) and they included you in some, including some selfies.
Tom excused himself and returned with even brought you a little plate of food. a plate full of little sandwiches, cheeses, and fruits. You both rested your feet and shared some, feeling their eyes on you. For dessert, there were some gooey brownies that melted in your mouth. Tom eagerly grabbed some, his large hands packing as many brownies as he could.
But you realized his beard had streaks of chocolate brownies on it, you burst into laughter and you heard some giggling from the students too.
“Oh, let me take care of that!” you offered.
You got out a handkerchief and wiped it off of him. You definitely heard “awwwws” in the distance. Looking at it, his beard was now clean.
“There you go! But dashing as always!” you said.
He held your hand and kissed it. The “AWWWWWS” got louder in the back and you both had to suppress your laughter.
Rejoining the students, you saw them less as little judges or would-be homewreckers. You got to talk to them. Maybe you judged them harshly- you remembered being in college when you were that young too. Of course, they grumbled about the coursework sometimes and you gave your own insight.
“Oh- you’re seriously reading Persuasion? Oh, just wait! Austen takes some time to get used to when you read her stuff- read them slowly and you will catch onto what’s happening! The yearning in that one is beautiful” you encouraged a distraught Hailey.
You even discussed what fantasy books they were into and got some more recommendations for your ever-growing TBR. And at the end, every last person in the crowd gathered and danced. You and Tom joined the students with big grins and aching feet, but you wouldn’t stop until that last song ended its phrase. No drama. No pettiness. And no hiding. No fear. Just people at a party. Young and happy and alive.
--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---
The other morning, you were back at the coffee shop. Waiting on them. Soon enough, they arrived in their band, though you remained in the corner.
“I couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend!” Daniel gasped.
“Really?! I’m not! A man that fine can have his pick,” Kelly commented.
They began to all get iced coffees and gather around.
“She is gorgeous- didn’t you see her at that ball!? And she’s super nice!”
“Yeah…I want them to be happy and he seems so happy-”
“Oh, he is cheesing after her- you saw how he smiled?! And how he got the plate for her? Like, he’s a walking green flag!”
‘She’s so lucky!
“Listen, I am glad they’re happy…I just wish it were me…”
They all sighed and agreed,. You waited for that whole vibe of that phrase to blow away.
Then, quietly you walked over.
“Hello everyone,” you said.
They gasped and turned heads.
“YN! YN, hi!” one boy, what was his name- oh yes, Cameron!-said.
“Oh, I just wanted to pop by,” you added.
Then, Emily stood up. She got out a chair from one table and moved it over to where everyone sat .
“Do you have anywhere to be? You can…you can join us! You’re welcome to!”
You smiled at them and took a seat.
summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.
or
it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.
or
“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”
warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion
kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)
a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!
i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.
Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.
It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.
ii. you break, i mend.
Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.
The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.
Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.
He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.
‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.
Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.
He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.
The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.
(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.
“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.
Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.
(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.
By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”
The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.
(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.
“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”
Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.
Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.
It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.
Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.
“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.
The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.
“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.
Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.
“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.
“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”
She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.
“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.
“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.
Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”
Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.
Saints.
It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.
The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.
“Are you with me?”
No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.
It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.
“None of that.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“I know. It’s okay.”
The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.
“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.
“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”
“I know.”
A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”
Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.
It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.
“If you break, I mend, remember?”
(mend
BREAK)
Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.
Saints be damned.
Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.
iii. a raven and a crow
The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.
He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.
It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.
“Inej?”
“Good.”
Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.
“Jes?”
“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.
He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.
The goods are safe.
“Nina?”
“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.
There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…
His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.
Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.
And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.
(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.
And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.
There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.
Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.
Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.
“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.
For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.
She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”
Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)
“You’ve got it?”
“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”
His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.
“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.
Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.
(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.
“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.
Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.
“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”
“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.
“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”
(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”
He pouts.
“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”
He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”
Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.
“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.
It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.
He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”
It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.
“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.
“A raven?”
“Yeah.”
Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.
Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”
Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.
And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.
(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”
Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.
“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.
Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.
(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”
Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.
She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”
(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.
“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”
“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.
“You know it’s true.”
He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.
Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”
And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.
Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.
“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”
The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.
“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.
(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.
“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”
Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.
“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.
“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.
(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”
It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.
The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.
R.
A Raven.
No fucking way.
He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.
Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.
(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)
iv. a broken lock and a key
Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)
(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.
After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.
He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.
Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.
On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.
So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.
It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.
Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.
“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”
(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”
And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.
He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.
She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.
“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.
He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”
“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.
“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.
“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.
“You’re gonna keep me company?”
Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”
She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.
It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.
Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”
(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.
“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.
“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.
There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.
She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”
He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”
“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.
And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”
He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.
To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”
His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.
“What?”
There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.
“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.
Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.
v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.
As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.
“Did you finally figure it out?”
He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.
“What?”
She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.
“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”
Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”
“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”
“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”
“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”
Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?
“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”
He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.
“Yeah.”
“Actually?”
She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.
“Got the documents to prove it, too.”
Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”
“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."
Jesper understands.
He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.
Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.
“Lovers, huh?”
(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.
“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”
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Anime-Inspired RPG ‘Plus Adventure’ Features a Familiar Heroic Cast
https://indiegamesplus.com/2018/11/anime-inspired-rpg-plus-adventure-features-a-familiar-heroic-cast
Summary: Hana’s life was planned out perfectly. She would marry the pack alpha, become Luna and do her duties. But the appearance of a mysterious stranger turns her life inside out she finds herself outcast and alone. Will she find her new home in Chan and his pack of strays? Will she find what she’s been looking for all along in the mysterious alpha? Or will everything crumble under her again?
Warnings: Werewolf AU, pack dynamics, mating cycles, noncon, abuse, victim blaming, angst, explicit adult content
A/N: This story is written by an adult for adults. I know a lot of Stray Kids fans are younger, but this story is very mature. It deals with a lot of adult topics and adult situations beyond just smut. That being said, this story is not to be taken lightly. There is a lot that happens in the first couple chapters that will probably make a lot of people uncomfortable. That being said, if it’s not your cup of tea, please move on. Don’t interact with it.This is an AU. This is in no way a representation of Stray Kids in real life, nor is it meant to represent any people who may be unintentionally mentioned in this story.
And yes, this was definitely inspired by Wolfgang.
KPOP MASTERLIST
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
my boredom and desire to not do what i’m supposed to be doing know no bounds, so here are some Haikyuu!! team banner headers
Like/Reblog if you use :)
Zhongli x Kaslana!reader hc part 2
After getting used to Zhongli's presence and after a couple years past, he noticed that you hadn't aged since he befriended you. He had no clue what you were but you insist that you were a normal human being despite....your strange training you often do outside the city with your weapon.
You were there when he saved Xiao, thinking little much of it but the young child has completely attached himself to you after his old master's failed attempt to get him back, he watched as you didn't beat an eye as you slayed the horrible man with a single slice of your lance.
Honestly, you felt an urge to protect him since you felt familiar with this feeling, like an older sibling. Although you knew you were a single child and had no family on Liyue Harbor, you treated him like he was family.
"Xiao, hold your weapon with a firm grip." You said, watching the young boy struggling to hold the spear up. Honestly, you couldn't believe that such a young boy was capable of being called a demon but you knew that he was called that due to him eating the dreams of people against his will.
Approaching him, you carefully place a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, looking up at you with fear in his eyes. You soften upon seeing this, sending him a smile to reassure that you wouldn't hurt him. "How about we go get something to eat? You must be starving." He nods at this quietly, watching as you took the spear and turned into speaks of light as you put it away. "Come on." He grabbed ahold of your hand and walked beside you, his eyes casting downwards.
"The inn is coming out nicely, isn't it?" You said, looking up at the inn that was nearly halfway finished. (Idk when it built, don't come after me-)
When it came to the other archons, they weren't in the slightest suspicious of you since during that time, Zhongli was at his prime age where he had that little mean attitude, so if he could deal with you than they could as well.
You and Venti, besties for life although you couldn't help but tease him when he whined about not having wine. Laughing when you held the bottle of wine above his head since you were taller than him but a lot and he gave you the stink eyes after using Anemo powers to get his wine back. You can recall a bit before he suddenly disappeared a time where he was literally taking half the food on the table in the middle of the lunch with the other archons.
You and Makoto, the electro archon, you two understood each other quite well. You also met her sister, who was like her shadow and deal with the more fighting aspects of protecting their precious Inazuma. When she died, you blamed yourself to this very day, you had a chance to save her and yet, you didn't so you couldn't bear facing Ei. You stood a few feet away as she weep, cradling her sister in her last moments before you collapsed from blood loss. The effects of the prototype abyss flower was used to it limits that day, nearly killing you like Cecelia.
The rest of the archons, you were close too and grieved when the Dendro archon was killed in that battle like Makoto. The group only seemed to come apart after that, Venti disappeared to who knows, Ei went to take her sisters place as the electro archon and went on about eternity, the tsarista turned in a cold person, having no love left for her people. The rest just kept to their selves as well.
500 years later after the destruction of the great nation, you still wandered Liyue Harbor by Zhongli's side as his lover, in fear of almost losing you that day, he confessed two months after your coma due to losing too much blood.
Though when the day came that he proposed that you two should retire, you opposed the idea, encouraging to do so himself if he wished but you wished to oversee Liyue just a bit more.
Your memories for the last 2000 thousand years have yet to return, only recollecting that you had a mother and father although those memories didn't match up with Liyue or Teyvat in general. Memories of walking around festivals and parties that felt different. Usually when you tried too hard to think of any more memories, you suffered bad headaches that Zhongli advised to not remembering but you felt like another part of yourself was missing.
"Lady Y/n," you turn your head slightly to see Lady Ningguang approaching you as you stared out into the seas just where Morax was announced dead by her. You could see the pitiful expression on her face as she bowed her head before you but you brush it off, not in the mood for formalities at the moment. This whole show pissed you off as it is. "My deepest regards, it must saddened you about the death of your lover." It's been a day since then.
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at even the mention of him, you smiled at her. "Thank you, this city will move on with or without him, no one can stop time nor can things go unchanged." You stare, your eyes wondering to a familiar building below and you could see Hu Tao doing something before she looked up, spotted you and waved. Waving back at her, you let out a sigh.
"Ningguang, I won't interfere with Liyue Harbor anything although if there is any dangers that you cannot face, I'll be there to protect this place when the time comes." She looks over at you, staring in silence before nodding her head.
"Of course, you rest knowing that Liyue Harbor is in good hands." Giving her one last smile, you turn back and walk away from her, leaving her to her thoughts. Walking past the people who tried to get your attention you press forward, not bothering answering any questions as you made your way to the Funeral Parlor where Hu Tao awaits you.
"Y/n! So sorry to hear what happened with the Lord of Geo."
"Thank you, although the old man was getting tired of it, now he can rest I guess." You said shrugging your shoulders, Hu Tao gave a little smirk at this.
"Oya, you call him a old man so that means you're an old lady too?" She teased, making you chuckle at this.
"In a way, yes." You go along with her, it's been a while since you had a good laugh with her. She laughs at this before spotting Zhongli walking towards you two."
"Mr. Zhongli, are you done preparing the funeral for the Lord of Geo?" She asks, giving a glance at you to see how you reacted but to her surprised, you simply looked away from him.
A scowl look on your face.
"Hu Tao," you said after a few minutes, seeming noticing a few of your personal guards approaching right behind Zhongli. She looks up at you, "I'm afraid our day together will be cut short, I have urgent matters to attend to." She frowns at this, not wanting her favorite old person to leave just yet. But atlas, she knew you had a duty to do.
"Come back when you have time." You nod and walk towards the guards.
Zhongli's face lights up at the sight of you approaching him and just as he's about to greet you, you pass past him.
"What's the situation?" You says and he turns his head to see who you're talking about.
He knew he kinda fucked up his relationship with you, since you didn't expect to him to literally fake his own death. You thought he would just casually say, "hey, I'm gonna retire, it's been nice and all!" But nope!
More work for you, yay.....
Anyways, you respected his decision just not the way he handled it, especially when the traveler and a certain orange haired told you what happened behind the scenes. You only sighed, the traveler knew the reaction when you witness Morax's death was genuine when he saw you rush over, checking his dragon form with a face filled with panic.
The way lady Ningguang had to peel you away and comfort you was hard enough to watch after the realized who you were.
Your tears didn't last fortunately after Hu Tao invited you that night for tea only to see Zhongli in the same room. Since then, you've been giving him the cold shoulder.
I think the next part will actually be a whole chapter, maybe the second to last part of this hc
Masterlist