I'm Sky. 28. I play Light and Night and Lovebrush Chronicles. Yumeship blog. I'm still getting the hang of it. Sometimes I write and do art! Selective with my dash so I don't follow back.
@xavissky for only Love and Deepspace content :)
AU where Giann returns and mc falls in love on sight, (poor Marius)
A clean, composed canvas. Every brushstroke carefully measured, every color meticulously selected.
Marius von Hagen was the sort of person who prepared every aspect of his existence in advance. In his position, he could not afford to not be over-prepared, as he was painfully aware that he had more enemies than friends. Whether the target was Pax, Z, or even just Marius himself, the amount of targets on his back required the young man to anticipate every possible situation, every possible outcome, and every possible next step... and to plan accordingly.
Of course, even the Pax Group's CEO was a mere mortal, and he could not account for the occasional obstacles or stumbles in his path. Even Marius von Hagen, of all people, could be taken by surprise. Usually he was able to fix those sudden little splatters and jagged strokes, covering them with his own colors and incorporating them into his greater picture.
Today, however?
Buckets and buckets, mismatched colors and hues, shades of all kinds, drowning the once sensible, orderly painting.
A torrential downpour of chaos descended onto Marius' precisely curated canvas, throwing his mind and his world into disarray.
When the door to the NXX meeting room cracked open, Marius had fully expected it to be Vyn trudging in late. As haughty as the psychiatrist could be, he was notoriously not a morning person, and Marius had made it his personal mission to give Vyn grief every time he was not exactly on time. (Perhaps more accurately, when he was not at least 3 minutes early. Was that unfair? Perhaps. Did Vyn deserve it? Absolutely.)
But the man who stumbled into the room was significantly taller, with hair significantly darker, and a face that was significantly less punchable.
Everything around him faded and dimmed, to backgrounds not fully developed as he focused on the person taking center stage in his painting. He thought Rosa might have jumped up behind him, but her startled words as she clung to Luke were not discernible. Luke's voice was mere static in Marius' brain, but he sounded angry and accusatory.
A figure moved out of the corner of his eye; judging from the size and colors, Artem. Of course, Artem would know who had just intruded on what was supposed to be a private meeting, for a top-secret group.
But Marius was not going to allow anyone to make a move before him.
All of the young heir's senses returned at once, and he darted forward, pushing his long legs to their limit so he would be the first one to the newcomer's side.
Much to his relief, Artem did not stop him.
"Giann!" Marius cursed himself internally for the way his voice cracked, for showing an ounce of weakness, but he would just hope that the other three people here would extend some mercy. "Giann, you're home!"
After all, his beloved older brother had been off the grid for so long, and now... and now he was in Marius' arms again!
Marius flung his arms around his brother, causing the older von Hagen to wince slightly. But Giann did not retreat; instead he leaned into Marius' shoulders and returned the embrace, albeit weakly.
What a funny scene, for Marius to be holding his taller, older brother like this.
"Sorry for making you wait."
"I'll tell you how to pay me back later."
Now that he was grounded, now that he knew for a fact that the person in front of him was his dear brother, now that he knew he was not dreaming or fantasizing or hallucinating or reminiscing, the rest of the background began to seep more fully into Marius' mind. He was able to transform the mismatched buckets of colors, weave them and brush them and mix them into something new. It was not what he had envisioned, these hues or shapes or patterns, but it was his. He could handle this again.
He would be stronger with Giann here, after all.
"Giann?" Rosa's voice was clearer now in his head. "Mister Giann von Hagen, sir?"
"How do we know it's actually him?" Luke's wary words came out in a low growl, and Marius whipped his head around immediately to provide a stinging retort.
"I also know Giann, as I worked with him on the NXX cases prior to your arrival," Artem reminded the others calmly, "and while I appreciate your caution, I do not believe it is necessary, Luke. That man is undoubtedly the real one."
Marius made a mental note that he owed Artem for speaking up on his brother's behalf.
"Mister Giann von Hagen, sir!" When had Rosa approached? Her footsteps were so quiet, despite the way her eyes were glowing with wonder and her body was practically quivering with excitement. "Ah, I mean... please pardon my interruption!"
"No need to apologize. If you're here, then I know you are a person who both Artem Wing and my brother trust." Giann straightened up to his full height (much to Marius' chagrin), giving Rosa a polite but feeble smile.
The way Rosa began bouncing on her tiptoes did not escape Marius' notice.
"Jiejie..." Marius whined as he adjusted his position, still standing (nearly) shoulder to shoulder with his brother. "You never address me so politely... I'm just Marius to you... just the brat... You don't even call me King...."
"King?" Giann echoed. "Is that the codename you chose for yourself?"
A deep flush illuminated Marius' face, stretching from ear to ear and covering him in a faint red glow. "I... For the Pax Group and our family name, obviously! I had to do them justice, you know!"
"Obviously. I know."
Still reeling as he tried to recover from being mortified by his brother in front of the woman he had a massive crush on, not to mention the other two dorks on the other side of the room, Marius averted his gaze.
But even without looking at Rosa, he could hear the excited lilt in her voice and imagine the way she was beaming as she continued to speak. "Marius has spoken so highly of you! I have had no doubt in my mind that you must be a wonderful person, and it is such an honor to meet you, sir!"
A gentle laugh left his brother's lips. "No need to be so formal. Clearly you and Marius are good friends, so you are already a friend of mine."
Good friends. Marius felt as though a paint scraper had been stabbed into his chest. "Let's sit down, Giann," he urged. "You seem really exhausted."
Giann did not argue, instead allowing Marius to guide him to the couches and seats further in the room.
"I am so sorry!" Rosa piped up as soon as they sat down. "You clearly need time to recover! Any of my questions can wait for a later time!"
Giann waved his hand dismissively. "I don't mind. Really." He smiled, with soft glow like that of a sunrise about to brighten up the world. "I want to learn about you. And about this young man, too." He nodded to Luke.
Whether Luke ever got to speak to Giann that day, Marius could not recall. He was too focused on the way in which Rosa's eyes sparkled, in the way in which she leaned forward when Giann spoke, in the way in which her hands fiddled nervously with the edges of her sleeves, in the way in which her left foot tapped with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, in the way in which her voice hummed when she responded to his questions, in the way in which her chest seemed to tremble as her rapid heartbeat burst against her ribcage.
She did not only bask in the glow of Giann's warmth and glory, but she returned it in full force.
Oh. Of course.
Giann was the true genius. Giann was the true leader. Giann was the go-getter, the organizer, the one who people loved. Marius was only ever a substitute, an inferior stand-in. Whether as president of Pax, or as a member of the NXX... Marius was never meant to stay. Marius' job was simply to ensure that nothing fell apart, and to keep Giann's name in good standing. To ease Giann's transition back into his rightful role when he returned. Marius was just... a child, a dreamer, an idealistic fool.
No wonder Rosa was enamored with Giann. Maybe she even loved him, or would love him soon.
A blank canvas, devoid of color, light, or life.
In all fairness, Marius preferred Giann von Hagen to Marius von Hagen, too.
Ok so the fun thing about Lu Chen and his name Evan is yes Evan is his English name that he does go by, kind of no matter what language you’re listening to when you play. That’s the name he used in London, and it distances him from the Lu family just a little bit.
Because while his given surname is “Chen” it’s taboo in China to call someone by a one syllable name, which is why there’s so many short terms of affection that you tack on as a prefix. This keeps the bad spiritual associations away and also just shows your differing levels of affection. There’s some interesting info on this, you can research on your own time.
TL;DR - You cannot just call him “Chen” in your speaking (or your fics) because that’s a no-no and you can’t do it no matter how close you are to him, even if you’re his ever-loving spouse it’s still a no-no.
BECAUSE OF ALL THAT THOUGH, often you just tack on the family name to the front, and that’s just how everyone refers to you. That or, some equivalent of title, English equivalents being “Mr. Lu” but it’s really more like ‘CEO Lu’ or whatever is appropriate to call him.
SO HIS WHOLE LIFE he’s been associated by his last name, and if you’ve dove into him you can feel his contempt for it. So “Evan” really is a freedom, especially moving to a country that prioritizes surnames or ‘first’ names, to friends, teachers, even often in business, people’s first inclination is “Hello, Evan, nice to meet you.” Or “Hey, Evan.” It’s Evan Evan Evan, not Lu Lu Lu.
Until he meets you.
And he meets you where you’re referring to him like everyone else around you, culturally, because in the spoken language of his first encounter with you, he meets you as a “local” and doesn’t give his English name - hence your confusion when you realize he’s the CEO later on.
And then gradually the beauty of it will become, “Lu is the name of my family that I despise” to “I am the Lu Chen belonging to my lover” in other words, the Lu that belongs to YOU and that’s the association and he can’t help but love the way it sounds falling off your lips and the way he says “You can call on me anytime” speaks to that. First love, and first to make him think that maybe being called a Lu isn’t so bad.
In an interesting way you can feel Lu Chen is keeping her at a respectful distance, yet the higher the distance the greater the fall (in love) or however that saying goes. He constantly gives Zayne + Xavier to me but the Xavier doesn’t show up until later and then it hit me like a brick LOL BUT YOU HAVE TO READ HIS CARDS TO UNDERSTANDDDDD UGHHHHH
Me to my mutuals: I’VE CONNECTED IT
My mutuals: you didn’t connect SHIT
Me: I’VE CONNECTED IT
₊˚ ✧ ⊱⋆ if you'll have me, ───── zha lisu/charlie x reader. 3.5k words, fluff, hurt-comfort.
tags: early route, non-established relationship, timeline ambiguous but roughly between ch 9-10, reader feels down and insecure, depictions of self-isolation. unedited. lmk if i missed any tags!
premise: birthdays aren't great for you, but this year, perhaps it's the person you least expect who makes things even a little bit more bearable. or—in the midst of self-loathing, zha lisu reminds you just how much you're worth.
note: a birthday fic dedicated to the one and only @mephisto-reporting <33 and also coincidentally! the very first lnn fic from me ever? akfbwhf although zls isn't my main at all and i've only really read as far as ch13, i did my best to zero in on their early dynamic, and hopefully my interpretation of him does him justice. to lina, denial is a river in egypt, and happy birthday to you from both me and lisu!! i love you dearly <3333
The truth is, you hadn't bothered to open them for the past five or so minutes—they'd been closed before you went to bed, and you make no move to open them now. Thin seams of sunlight manage to sneak in through the edges. They stretch pale little golden lines across the wooden floor of your room, brush your forehead like a soft little reminder that the day had already begun. But this sunlight doesn't feel quite warm enough anymore.
Not today.
Not now.
Now, where in your hand rests your phone, lock screen on, glaring at you in the face with a simple fact:
Today is your birthday.
Your blanket stays tangled around your legs, your hair an unruly mess against the pillow. The mug of tea you'd made the night before sits forgotten on your bedside table, a skin having formed over the surface sometime during the night. And you could get up. You know you should.
And yet you roll onto your side, and bury your face deeper into the pillow.
Perhaps, if the room stays dim enough, then maybe time will lose track of you.
Your phone vibrates.
Personal greetings, group chats, even promotional messages… There's one of those automated birthday emails, the ones from some stores you'd forgotten you even made an account with years ago, now cheerfully informing you that you're entitled to ten percent off a purchase you don't even intend to make.
Your stomach twists.
You flip the phone over so that the screen faces the mattress, smothering the glow before another notification can appear.
And it's… embarrassing, really.
Birthdays are supposed to be happy occasions, aren't they?
Adults don't hide from them like frightened children, adults answer their phones. They smile politely through awkward congratulations, accept cake from well-meaning colleagues, laugh when someone asks what they have planned. Adults don't spend the morning staring at the ceiling, wondering how another entire year just slipped by, while they somehow remain just… exactly the same.
You could count backwards all you wanted.
Last birthday, the one before that, the one before that, and the one before that…
Each one simply blurs into the next, more, and more, and kore, until all you can remember is that same vague feeling, of being left behind by some invisible current that everyone else had learned to swim against.
Everyone else except you.
Sure, many things might have changed—you think back to the very man who'd been the bane of your existence, and the very man who'd slot himself right in the middle of the life you'd built for yourself, all with nothing short of the force of a hurricane.
A huff of indignance escapes your lips.
Zha Lisu would probably say something outrageous today.
"Happy birthday to my one and only fiancée. Truly, fate has excellent taste."
Perhaps, for better or for worse, you could already picture the infuriatingly self-satisfied smile that would accompany it, the slight lift of his chin as though the entire universe had been waiting for him to make such a declaration. He would probably insist on dragging you somewhere expensive despite your protests, claiming that ordinary restaurants simply weren't worthy of celebrating someone associated with him. Then he'd spend the entire meal alternating between praising the chef, critiquing the wine, and somehow circling every conversation back to himself with such impossible confidence that you'd inevitably find yourself arguing just to keep up.
And you would tell him he was unbearable. He would beam as though you'd complimented him.
…But, not that it matters.
Even now, as you pull the blanket up a little higher and curl into it, the silence around you breaks from the distant hum of traffic and the occasional drifting of muffled voices up from the street below. Right outside, life continues with its usual certainty. Neighbors leave for work carrying coffee cups. Delivery scooters weave through morning traffic. The city moves on, even without ever asking if you're ready to move with it.
Your phone vibrates again.
…Hm.
If you disappear for just one day, nobody really minds.
You'll reply to the messages you've ignored tomorrow, apologize for being busy. You'll tell everyone you weren't feeling well. :ecause despite your own gratefulness, you simply don't know how to explain that there isn't anything particularly wrong. There's no dramatic tragedy waiting to justify all of this; nothing happened, nobody hurt you, you'd simply woken up feeling as though the world had moved yet another step away from you while you'd slept.
No cheerful sticker or birthday cake emoji could bridge that distance.
It'll be easier, once the date on the calendar changes. Easier, when this strange heaviness in your heart slips away enough for you to breathe again.
It's fine… I just… don't want to look at my phone…
It vibrates again.
A second later, the sharp buzz of your intercom jolts through the apartment so suddenly that you practically jump.
Wide-eyed, you freeze.
For a moment, you convince yourself it must be for another unit.
Then it rings again.
A delivery…?
No—you hadn't ordered anything.
Is someone visiting…?
You certainly weren't expecting anyone.
The intercom seems to pause, and you wait.
Five seconds.
Ten.
A tiny breath escapes you.
"...Must've left."
Relief settles quickly at the silence. And yet, compelled in that moment to take a peek at your phone, it lights up in that exact moment with a contact name you immediately recognize.
Dr. Peacock.
It makes you sigh before you even read what his message says at all.
That Zha Lisu—you'd changed his contacr name months ago after one particularly insufferable afternoon. He'd spent nearly twenty minutes listing his own admirable qualities, all with such unwavering sincerity, that you'd finally interrupted him just to ask whether peacocks ever got neck cramps from carrying themselves so proudly. To your chagrin, he'd merely laughed. Declared it "an understandable comparison." That for your information, peacocks were beautiful creatures with impeccable taste, anyway.
The nickname had remained.
You click your tongue.
Dr. Peacock: I know you're home.
Another message arrives before you've even decided whether to ignore the first.
Dr. Peacock: Your curtains are closed. That doesn't happen often, does it?
You press the phone against your forehead.
Of course. Of course he would notice your curtains.
And you should ignore him, of course. That would be the mature thing to do.
Instead...
You: Go away.
His reply arrives almost instantly.
Dr. Peacock: Hmm.
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
You: Disappointed, aren't you?
Three little dots appear immediately.
Disappear.
Appear again.
When his reply finally comes, you can almost hear the smug satisfaction behind every word.
Insufferable.
Who could have the energy to deal with such a man in this state?
Your phone switches off with another click of your tongue, and you turn away completely.
You don't notice the next set of messages he sends.
Zha Lisu should really just leave…
Three minutes later, the doorbell rings.
Once, then twice, then after a brief pause, a third time—measured, unhurried, and carrying with it the unmistakable confidence of someone who has absolutely no intention of leaving.
"...He can't be serious," you mutter.
From the hallway beyond your front door, muffled by wood and distance but somehow still carrying every ounce of theatrical self-assurance you've come to associate with him, his voice floats into the apartment.
"Since you've confirmed that you're alive," he calls, sounding entirely too pleased with himself, "it would be rather rude to leave your fiancé standing in the hallway. Don't you think?"
A beat passes.
Then, with impeccable timing—
"And before you ask, yes, I fully intend to continue ringing the bell."
You groan.
"Zha Lisu, go home."
You don't even bother raising your voice by very much.
Ding.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
Ding.
"Dr. Zha."
Ding.
He really is so ridiculous…
And you think, surely he'll get bored of this eventually.
Surely even Zha Lisu has something better to do than loiter outside your apartment.
The doorbell rings again.
Again, and again, and again—
Your phone buzzes.
Dr. Peacock: I've prepared a compromise.
Dr. Peacock: Should you open the door, I graciously forgive you for making such a perfect man wait.
Another vibration.
Dr. Peacock: Though, I believe I understand.
Dr. Peacock: You're attempting to make me miss you, aren't you? Of course, you have always liked playing these games of cat and mouse with me.
Another.
Dr. Peacock: It's an effective strategy. But it's only natural for a man to miss his fiancée, you see.
You snort, a little. Almost a laugh, one small, involuntary. You roll your eyes, and you almost even reply at that.
But instead, you lock the screen yet again, and press it against your chest. You don't quite see his last message before the doorbells stop altogether.
Dr. Peacock: Fiancée, are you alright?
Silence.
You wait—ten seconds. Twenty. A full minute.
Silence.
Your brows draw slowly together.
Beyond the door, you could barely make out the faint rustle of fabric, and there's a pause. Then, after another few moments, there comes the unmistakable sound of footsteps beginning to move away.
He's leaving.
He's really leaving.
And relief arrives exactly as you'd expect it to, because this is what you'd wanted.
Isn't it?
The apartment falls quiet again.
There's nobody waiting outside, nobody insisting to see you, nobody ringing the bell… You had gotten precisely what you'd asked for.
So, why...
Why is the silence now suddenly so much louder than you remembered?
Your fingers tighten around your phone as you continue staring right at the door, and your vision blurs. A single tear slips free before you can stop it, tracing a warm line down your cheek.
"..."
This time, you don't think.
You that if you do think, you'd stop yourself.
This time, you realize that you don't want to.
You practically stumble off the bed, nearly tripping over the blanket wrapped around yout legs. Your feet slap hurriedly against the wooden floor.
The lock, the chain, the handle—
The door swings open.
The hallway is almost empty.
Near the elevators, you catch sight of a familiar broad back…
"…Zha Lizu!"
Your voice comes out strained. It feels almost blocked, by this lump in your throat that you can't swallow.
And yet, Zha Lisu hears it instantly, and he turns.
For the first time all day...
You finally see him.
Face to face, even in this state of yours, hair a hopeless mess from the blankets, oversized pajama shirt hanging awkwardly from one shoulder. Right now, you aren't wearing the carefully composed expression you usually greeted him with, the one prepared with a sarcastic remark before he'd even finished speaking. Instead, your eyes are red. There are still faint tear tracks glistening against your cheeks, ones that you'd failed to wipe away completely.
Perhaps, you would dare to indulge in your delusions.
It almost feels as if something shifts in his expression, then.
The familiar sparkle of playful amusement remains, but it no longer occupies the whole of his face. Instead, his gaze… softens.
It feels, almost… gentle.
Such a ridiculous thought.
Could someone like Zha Lisu really be gentle to someone like you…?
He walks over with careful steps then, one hand placed casually into the pocket of his trousers. "There you are," he hums. "I was beginning to think I'd have to submit a missing persons report."
You open your mouth.
Close it again.
The speech you'd somehow imagined during the frantic walk to the door now dissolves completely beneath his gaze.
Just, why exactly did you call after him…?
You feel childish. Pathetic. This is Zha Lisu, and he should be the last person you would want to see today.
And, yet…
You really didn't want him to leave, after all.
Realization flickers across his face with surprising speed—that despite it all, you really had come to the door, anyway. That whatever wall you'd been hiding behind all day, you'd managed to push it open, just enough to say his name.
And Zha Lisu doesn't ask why your eyes are red. He doesn't point out that your voice had trembled when you called to him.
Instead, after a brief pause, he adjusts the cuff of his shirt with exaggerated composure, before offering you a familiar, impossibly self-satisfied smile.
"I knew it."
You look at him cautiously.
"...Knew what?"
"That the perfect man is simply too much to resist."
###
Another person's presence has a way of changing the shape of a room.
There are new sounds now—cabinet doors opening with practiced confidence, the muted clink of ceramic against the countertop, water running briefly from the kitchen sink before stopping again. They're all ordinary noises, the sort that would disappear into the background on any other day. Today, they anchor you to the present in a way you didn't realize you needed.
You remain curled up in the corner of the sofa, knees tucked beneath your blanket.
Your embarrassment has only grown in the minutes since opening the door. Looking back on it now, you can't believe you'd actually called after him, can't believe you'd let him in. You surely hadn't planned to. You hadn't even known what you wanted to say. Somewhere between hearing his footsteps retreat down the hallway and watching the elevator doors begin to open, your heart had made a decision that your pride hadn't been consulted on.
You still aren't entirely sure why.
"You keep very little food here."
His voice drifts out from the kitchen with the casual observation of someone commenting on the weather.
You stiffen.
"...Don't look through my refrigerator."
"But clearly, it's necessary."
You hear another cabinet door slide shut.
"As expected," he continues with complete certainty, "my fiancée could benefit from the aid of a man such as I."
You bury your face halfway into the blanket.
"I'm not your fiancée…"
"Hm, so you've said."
"I've said it a lot, you know! And you never listen."
"I listen very carefully." The faintest hint of amusement colors his voice. "I simply choose the more accurate interpretation."
What part of anything I've ever said could make you interpret that I approve of our engagement?!
You don't say it.
Instead, you let out a tired sigh that lacks any real conviction, and huff once more into your blanket.
"…Zha Lisu, you're impossible."
"I appreciate the compliment."
"It wasn't one!"
"I've elected to receive it as such."
"...Well, your ego is unbelievable!"
"I prefer 'well-supported.'"
The exchange is so familiar to you that, for the first time all day, your lips threaten the beginning of a smile that you don't quite stop.
Ridiculous.
He really is so ridiculous.
It's ridiculous, to find him standing with his back to you beneath the warm light above the counter, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, diligently reading the instructions on a package of instant porridge.
Zha Lisu, this man who had introduced himself as utterly perfect, who wore tailored suits and expensive couture, who carried himself with enough confidence to fill an entire room by himself...
...now stands in your tiny kitchen and trying to make you a meal out of the limited ingredients that you had.
He notices you looking.
Without turning around, he says, "I know your fiancé is very charming, but you don't have to be so infatuated with me."
You groan.
"You really can't say a nornal thing for one second…!"
He glances over his shoulder, "You haven't eaten, and you clearly don't want to leave this nest of yours. Of course, what else could I possibly do but make you food myself?"
"…I didn't ask you to."
"Hm."
"Zha Lisu, you don't have to…"
"I know. But I'll make enough for two."
He simply turns back to the saucepan, stirring it with slow, unhurried movements.
The room settles into silence again, filled only by the gentle bubbling of water beginning to simmer. You watch him move around the unfamiliar kitchen with surprising ease, opening drawers you've never seen him use, locating spoons through what can only be described as unreasonable confidence and educated guesses. Every now and then he opens the wrong cabinet, pauses for exactly half a second, then closes it with enough dignity that it's almost convincing he'd meant to check there all along.
For reasons you can't quite explain, the tightness in your chest eases a little.
For the first time since waking this morning, someone else has quietly taken responsibility for the next small thing that needs doing. You don't have to decide what to eat, you don't have to pretend you're fine.
You don't even have to fill the silence.
Right now, he does all of that right for you, as naturally as if there had never been any question that he would.
And all this time, you'd been convinced that his pursuit of you had been nothing more than a hunter's instinct towards his prey. The way he teases you, the way he continues to get on your nerves so precisely… It has always seemed you were only his newest source of entertainment, no different from skiing, or horseback riding, or any of the interests he could have once been passionate about but quickly grew tired of.
But can someone like that really treat you with this kind of care?
Can someone like that really look at you as softly as he did, just now?
In fact, perhaps you know the truth.
Zha Lisu is narcissistic, vain, annoying, intolerable, and a nuisance in your life almost comparable to the thorn of a rose at your side…
But Zha Lisu is also intelligent. He's considerate, he's responsible, he's hardworking, and he's… kind.
He is.
It's just that you often choose to ignore it.
A rose has its thorns, but a rose is still beautiful.
And one way or another, you know that such a person has chosen you.
"Zha Lisu," you mumble, "why is it that you care so much?"
"Hm? But it's natural for me to care for my fiancée."
"Drop the act, you know that I called off the engagement…"
"Yet, you came to find me."
Heat rushed to your cheeks. "You came here first! I only thought—"
Footsteps, then, and the space beside you shifted.
With a turn, you saw Zha Lisu leaning casually against your sofa, looking at you with a smile.
"It would do you well to be more honest, fiancée. As I've told you, playing hard to get won't work on me."
"…"
You lower you eyes.
"It's not as if I'm anything special. You said so yourself, you didn't want this engagement, either."
"Nevertheless…"
He reaches out, taps subtly at your chin.
As you raise your head, he leans in. And there's something there—something you can't quite place—that twinkles in the depths of those pretty—infuriatingly so, but pretty—violet eyes of his.
"As the perfect man, my taste can be nothing short of impeccable. Therefore, the you that I see is the most exquisite that can possibly exist."
Something tells you that he means it.
For all that he says things, so freely, so frustraringly, and so… boldly—
It feels genuine.
Maybe, it's the way he looks at you.
Maybe, it's the way he speaks.
You catch the way his gaze koves slowly down to your lips, but he doesn't lean in like you expect him to.
Instead, Zha Lisu reaches to smooth your hair and tuck it behind your ear, and in a quick, fleeting peck, his lips press into the top of your head.
He pulls away as if nothing had happened. With the weight of your shocked gaze still lingering on his figure, he chuckles. "Have I finally charmed my fiancée?"
Smug, as always.
"…Mn," you murnured, looking down at the floor. "Maybe."
"No need to deny it, I'm aware that I'm— uh-?"
Zha Lisu blinks.
It's almost a pity you don't catch the bewilderment in his own expression, nor the way he quickly stands up from your couch.
Instead, you hear the clear of his throat, and the sound of his footsteps going back to the kitchen.
"…Of course, someone like me is just irresistible," he mumbles, then shakes his head. Louder, he adds—"Then come here, and don't keep me waiting longer. But if my fiancée thinks I would simply leave her birthday with just some porridge, then I hope she knows she's completely wrong."
You turn to look at him with a start.
"What?! How did you—"
A smirk forms on his face, and he folds his arms with unmistakable satisfaction. "You underestimated me. The perfect man, forgetting his fiancée's birthday? Impossible."
"But…!"
"Come, eat. And since it really is inconceivable for my fiancée to spend her birthday in isolation, then I will generously allow you the privilege of accompanying me to dinner. I've already prepared the reservation."
It was just like Zha Lisu to make such decisions for you. Just like him to make the assumption you would still want to celebrate.
But…
Perhaps, it's not such a bad idea, after all.
You get up, pad the floor over to him and sit at the table.
The porridge, simple as it is, especially for him, makes you smile.
He really is… so ridiculous.
a/n - ONCE AGAIN, VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY LINA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! gosh this was. omg kajsdhgnvkjdf so fun to write actually, but also very challenging at the same time, and i mean like? who wouldve thought id make a lisu fic before a jesse one?! LMAO wkjhdg i hope hope super hope i did him justice... since i've only started playing in sea server last month and not completely familiar with charlie yet, i'm a bit worried this might feel ooc... but it was also very fun to think about the kind of comfort you'd receive from him pre-relationship, given his kind of personality... wkjhdfkjd
Aaahhhhh this fic omg 😭😭😭 why would you do this to meeeeeeeeeeeeee
You got him SO right. Like... so right. He's equal parts charming and absolutely insufferable, and somehow you managed to balance both without ever making either side feel exaggerated!!!!!
Every time he opened his mouth I was either smiling like an idiot or going "oh my god, this man..." 😠
I also NEED to mention the thorn symbolism because I actually got so excited when I saw it. 😭 From everything I've read about zls lore, the thorn in his heart is such an important piece of his character, and seeing you weave that into the writing with the rose made me do a double take!!!!!!!!
😭😭😭 Him fumbling, immediately trying to recover, pretending he totally meant to do that all along... PLEASE.
But I think my favorite part was when she actually AGREED with him and he just... stopped. 😭 Like you could practically hear the Windows shutdown noise in his head for a second. This man is so prepared for banter and pushback that genuine agreement completely short-circuits him. It was SO funny!!! But like also he quickly recovers dhdhdhdhhd.
I love this so much. Especially the dynamics between him x reader and how much care and love you put into it. Thank youuuuu ❤️
hii i'm a new player in the SEA server and i'm curious, are there any chronological reading order for light and night cards?? esp per love interest, so we can see their relationship timeline and which card happens first etc etc. thank you very much!!
the only good resource i've seen going around is this one, but it's not organized per love interest, it's the schedule of the original chinese server. the chronological reading order is literally the release schedule of the chinese server, because they release everything in order. unfortunately, it's the localizations that are skipping around and breaking the important chronological order...
Lu Chen admits to a few things. His girlfriend has a surprising proposal.
SFW. Just fluff. 2.4k. Lu Chen x MC (she/her). No cws applicable.
A/N - I’m new to the game but basing this on all the dates, encounter, and traces I’ve read so far c: I hope I got it right so far! This came to mind and couldn’t get it out of my head.
———
It’s 2 in the afternoon, and Lu Chen’s tea is cold. A faint sense of dread passes through him, disappearing like mist. This sensation isn’t as familiar to him, as he’s learned to calculate and to measure possibilities and consequences in actions. The dread is new, because it isn’t about a situation. The dread comes from how he’ll have to say goodbye to her in an hour, and he’ll have to offer a modest excuse, which he knows her well enough by now to know she won’t so much as blink in complaint. In fact she’ll probably smile that same sunny smile she always does, and tell him they can meet some other time. Half the dread is wondering how long he can make it before he rationalizes telling her more than he sh—
Click!
The door handle behind him turns and he turns half toward it, eyebrows lifted in surprise when he sees his girlfriend walking in, still in her spa bathrobe and slippers. A smile that he’s practiced in the mirror so often rises to his cheeks while she sets her things down to approach him by the window. The breeze lifts a waft of salty sea air into the room, combined with her own tropical scented lotion that had been generously applied lately. It’s sweet, and intoxicating.
“You’ve returned from the spa early?” He nods, rising from the coffee table to greet her. “I thought you were going to indulge in a facial. Did something happen?”
“I was but…” She catches his forearms with her cool fingertips and a rosy glow rises to his cheeks that he’s certain isn’t from the spa treatment. “I didn’t want to be without you too long.”
A ripple of affection exudes from him at her expression, but the dread returns behind his smile that he’s an expert at maintaining. Now he has to contemplate telling her ahead of time, or…
“You missed me then? Should I call for more tea? Or we can stroll around the resort grounds.”
“Lu Chen, what’s wrong?”
He freezes, and it never failed to catch him off guard with the way she could always tell. Even when he’d practiced over and over to never let his emotions slip through, even when he’d mastered the art of sounding genuine. No one living new how to cut through to him this way. Realizing he’d rested a beat too long, he sighs, helpless, and takes both her hands in his.
“How do you always see me?”
“It’s… It’s my gift, but I don’t need to use it on you anymore. I know you well enough now.”
That was the most extraordinary thing about her. Somehow she’d nestled into caring about him way more than she should, and somehow he could not resist her charming heart.
“Tell me then, did you use it?” He teases slightly, pulling her forward towards him.
“Only a little…” She admits, wrapping her arms around his waist to squeeze him.
Lu Chen never thought he was physically affectionate, or ever going to be, but with her it came naturally. Whenever he had his arms around her things just felt better.
“So what happened? You had to take a phone call and you didn’t come back, so I thought something urgent might have come up.”
When she looks up at him, there’s question in her eyes, and care he can’t escape. He strokes her freshly washes strands and feels so warmed by her gesture that he knows he won’t be able to hold up any longer without explaining.
“Yes.” He starts, sighing and rubbing the small of her back briefly before moving to separate from her and sit down. Opposite him, she takes her seat and pours a cup of tea for herself from the pot he’d used earlier.
Continuing, he attempts to smile reassuringly. “Some business has come up in London. I’m afraid I’ll be away for a week or so.”
Her eyebrows widen while she raises the cup to her lips, then makes a bitter face at the feeling of the cold tea at her lips. Rather than drink it, she sets it down. “A week?”
“Yes I- oh, sorry, the tea got cold, didn’t it? I’ll call for some more.”
While he gets up to call room service, she adjusts her robe and closes the window that suddenly felt too chilly.
This is when he expects her to reassure with her bubbly smile, but instead she looks only passive.
“It must be important then. I hope everything’s ok…”
Returning to his seat, he places a hand over hers. “Yes, I just have to go take care of things. I’m afraid I have to leave tonight.”
“Tonight?” Now to his discomfort, she looks worried, and he once told her he could bear some worry for her, but that didn’t make it easier when it involved him.
“Don’t be worried,” He assures, rubbing a thumb over her hand. “It’ll be alright, and you can stay here the remaining 2 days, enjoy it as much as you can. I’ll call you, every night if I must.”
A smile flashes on her lips, but he can’t help but notice she still looks pensive. What happens next surprises him, while she puts her other hand over his on the table, and finally smiles.
“Lu Chen… you can tell me things now. I am here with you, no matter what. You don’t have to be alone with your thoughts all the time. I’m sorry things are difficult so you have to rush away. I want to see you smiling too, but I also don’t mind seeing you sad, or disappointed, or dissatisfied. Or, even if it’s none of those things right now. I know you may not be able to tell me everything, but know my heart is with yours.”
Silenced by her earnest, although they’d somehow reminded each other a few times now that they’d be there for each other, it always struck his heart like another tick on the dial of a watch.
“I can’t argue with you on that, so I’ll just say, thank you,” And he smiles, helplessly warm at the familiarity of the phrase, and he feels her squeeze his hands a little tighter, not realizing she did so because it was the first time in the last few minutes that his smile wasn’t forced.
“Let us just say there is something very valuable I am trying to protect. And… there are many people who want it for bad purposes. I cannot be assured of its protection without leaving for a little while. Once I know it’s safe, I’ll return.”
“Oh… yes I can see how that would be troubling! I’ve lost sleep trying over expensive things from the studio in my care before!”
He chuckles in affection at her earnest attempt to relate. “Yes, and… right now it’s in my care, I don’t want anyone else to take it from me.”
“Do you have a lot of security for it?”
“Yes, although, I need to ensure it hasn’t been compromised.”
“I see… Well, I know my Lu Chen will make things safe. You always do. You always find a way! So I’m sure it’ll go smoothly.”
There’s that sunny optimism that he adores, and he brings her fingers to his lips to kiss while he smiles and nods. “Thank you, I’ll go with your confident assurance as my good luck. But please, promise me you won’t leave the resort until it’s time. Zhao Lan will come pick you up.”
“Ok! I’ll definitely do the longer facial tomorrow then!”
Right as he arises, a knock at the door brings the room service in to swap their cold tea with a fresh steaming pot. The hibiscus flavor has a brilliant rich red hue that makes her exclaim at. Just like that, the dread has washed away from, him, replaced by her hopefulness and trust in him. He wished all things could be this simple. Still, he couldn’t help feel disappointed. Which, was becoming a new feeling also. Disappointments, like dread, were managed by constant maintaining and manipulation of scenarios to ensure the best outcome. They weren’t so much disappointments so much as they were useful data.
But when it came to her? He couldn’t help it.
The sun begins to set, filling the room with rosy hues. After a moment and clinked teacups and watching her cheeks grow tinted the same shade as the sweet liquid from the heat of it, he can’t help but admit,
“I will miss this. I am-” He breathes, shaking his head at how easy she makes it to admit, “-Disappointed we won’t have the rest of our time together. But I assure you, leaving you doesn’t come easily.”
“So, you miss me already?” There’s a teasing smile on her face. She’d grown better at it, looser around him in a way that somehow made his chest flutter.
“Oh dear, you cannot tease me for that.” He adds in humor. She giggles, the sound filling his very soul and setting it lighter than it was for hours without her.
“I’m not, I find it cute. But I understand. You have something important to protect.”
He nods, and for a moment there’s quiet, while they observe the tropical view outside. A glint of water in the distance catches sunlight, reflecting in her eyes. Just when he thinks he can stare for the rest of the hour, she opens her mouth to speak.
“This thing that you’re protecting, is it in London?”
He raises a brow, wondering if her mind had been churning the whole time, or how she reached the question.
“Not exactly, but there are agencies involved and… It’s safer at home.”
“Oh, then… do you want me to look after it with you? I mean, I don’t mind stopping by your home-”
“It’s… not like that, exactly.” He interrupts, a bit marveled by how easily she was willing to throw her hands in to help him. Then again, he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Reassuringly, he smiles and refills her teacup that she takes timidly, like a cat that had been scolded for licking at milk too soon.
In spite of the assurance, she still looks regretful. “I’m sorry, I spoke without thinking, I just… this is a heavy burden on you, I just wanted to say, um. Please let me know if I can do anything to help. If you’re not taking it with you to London, I mean…”
Grateful that she was still under the impression it was a physical object, he pats the back of her hand. “I will, and I’m grateful. You’ll be the top of my list. And, taking it to London would be convenient, but… it’s more complicated than this. It’s…”
And suddenly what he’d dreaded earlier begins to form, where the rationale behind speaking every word with intention begins to fall away. It was as if the tea was imbued with her essence and had become a magic potion that made him want to relay every piece to her. She was dangerous in a way that made him forget that love was just a chemical. Suddenly with her, he had begun to understand why many men had called it falling in love. When the momentum was strong enough, it felt like he could feel the ground rushing up to meet his face, just from the way she spoken to him, with care, respect, and love. If it was a chemical, he was beginning to hope it lasted a very long time.
“It doesn’t belong to me,” He continued, unnecessarily. “I hope one day it will, but until then I’m hoping its owner will be gracious with me. And I’m protecting it with everything I have.”
Puzzled, she tilts her head to the side. He hopes she doesn’t ask more questions.
She does.
“You were put in charge of it?”
“For the time being.”
“Then… won’t it’s owner be grateful if you take it with you? If you tell them it’d be safer?”
“It’s not so simple. Don’t worry, it’s in good hands here.”
“Hmm.”
Then she rises, steps to face in front of him, and takes his hands again. Her hair had begun to frizz as it dried, and he couldn’t help but think she looked even more adorable somehow.
“Lu Chen, I’m not sure what it is… but I can already see you care about it very much. So, I’m saying this now in case you ever wonder. But if you ever need to go somewhere else with it, just know I’ll come with you. Even to London. And I hope it will belong to you someday, I mean I’m sure it will. I’ll vouch for you!”
The proposal hits him between the ribs, like a hammer cracking at all the doubts in his very being. Here was this woman, who hardly knew everything about him, or his situation, and already promising to go away with him. He wondered if she could begin to know the gravity of that.
Her name softly falls off his lips, then he smiles. “Even to London?”
“Yes!” And it’s a wonder to him that she looks excited. “Everytime I go I enjoy it there, and the fashion scene is really good. We could start a remote Warson studio there too! We could be like… Bonnie and Clyde! Make a run for it and live there. Except, well, legally… and we didn’t steal anything- or we won’t.”
Now he laughs, and he can’t help it. Lightness fills him, and he’s impossibly happy in a way he can’t describe. “If it comes to that, I’ll let you know. But right now… I won’t take it away.”
Standing, he wraps her arms around him and lets the peace of the moment come over him. She nuzzles into his chest, then looks up at him with bright eyes while he speaks. “I have to come back soon anyway. Can you sense it? I’m happiest when I’m with you. Rather than go where I need to go, I’d rather spend my life going where we want to, and only we. Just like this.”
She beams, and leans up to kiss his cheek. “On one condition.”
“A condition?” He chuckles. “Alright, name it, love.”
“You owe me two days.”
A wide smile curls into his cheeks while he leans down to kiss her against the setting sun for which both her cheeks and his ears match in color,
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