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#god i love that fic so much
greenlaut · 11 months
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they’re in love your honor
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deansbipanic · 10 months
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personally offended that 91w doesn’t feature the boogie woogie bugle boy of company b
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tetsupeach · 2 years
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s
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toffee-arts · 2 months
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for @esamastation and their fic "Into the Abyss" your fic has me in a tight chokehold i can't get enough of it 🥺 (colors inspired by Beksinski's paintings bec his art is lowkey how i imagined the endless abyss looks like :"3 )
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mediumgayitalian · 27 days
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“Oh, fuck.”
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
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ifyoucandaniel · 1 year
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Alright! So I finished hand binding Crimson Rivers by @mayzarbewithyou :) this was my first time bookbinding so excuse the mistakes I am far from great, but all in good time! This fic basically changed the trajectory of my life so I thought I’d give it the love it deserves! the spine is regulus standing looking up at the tree and he is purposely put on the last book because he finally learned how to climb and grow. I’m so emotional over the end of the fic so this is very emotional to me. I did the typeset myself and there are some cool details I’ll try to put in another post, but basically I added all of Zar’s end notes as footnotes to the specific scenes he talks about! All very fun and the dingbats match the theme for the books and the backs each have quotes the correspond. I split it into 5 just because it didn’t feel right to have the epilogues in the same book as the war. They were two completely different parts of the story so I separated them. Anyways I’ll make another post. This was a labor of love and I hope I did it Justice :)
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neonlazycat · 23 days
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LDR moon by @spadillelicious
Guys.....I caved in
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themthemthemthemthemthemthem-
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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yardsards · 4 months
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there's such an interesting extra layer to amity and her relationships (especially w luz) that gets revealed when you learn that not only is she an abuse victim herself, but she is also the child of an abusive marriage
like not only was she personally abused/neglected and taught that she doesn't deserve to have her boundaries respected and won't get positive attention unless maybe she "earns it" by being useful and overachieving, but also her main example of a romantic partnership involved one partner exploiting the other and treating him as an expendable tool
in all of her relationships (platonic, romantic, familial), amity learns to give and receive kindness, learns to respect and set boundaries, learns that the value of herself and others aren't dictated by achievements or usefulness. she's breaking the toxic patterns that her parents taught her via their treatment of her.
but with her romantic relationship with luz, not only is she learning all of the above, but she's also breaking the toxic patterns of a romantic relationship that she would have learned from watching her parents.
when she shows kindness to luz, loves luz wholeheartedly even when she makes mistakes or causes problems, respects luz's privacy and boundaries, she is treating her girlfriend in a way that opposes the way her mother treated her own husband.
when she learns that she doesn't need to be useful or else risk abandonment/punishment, she's learning that she shouldn't accept or expect to be treated by her girlfriend the same way that her father was treated by his own wife.
i just. i love stories about characters breaking cycles. and i love luz and amity's relationship so much. it's very much not the kind of relationship i'm invested in the same way i am invested in with ships between adults. but rather like, it's a relationship between these two young people who are learning to healthily navigate this kind of relationship for the first time in their lives and it's really sweet.
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defectiveferalfreak · 2 years
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i rediscovered @nicktoonsunite and @choraa ‘s art like wowie did they inspire me to dip my toes into NUverse??
also i cant believe Dib and Zim basically waltzed into NU:GoD, like WHATS UP B*TCHS WE  GONNA HELP WHETHER U WANT IT OR NOT like can u believe that lol
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flowercrowngods · 11 months
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@steddie-week
part 1 (bc this is one big 7 part story)
day 02: bittersweet & angst
1 new message
eddie The Problem munson: engagement party on saturday babyyyy 🥳🥸🕺
Steve’s been staring at the message for two days now. It's sitting in his notifications, staring at him like a painful reminder of what happened exactly seven days ago. A week. It's only been a week, and Steve somehow it feels like it was both only one day or seven months ago.
It's an almost liminal experience, walking through life without texting Eddie every second of the day – because texting him would mean opening his message. It would make this real.
And that's the last thing Steve wants.
"I'm not going," Robin declares as they're cuddling on the couch, wallowing in their misery as Mayday Parade's Oh Well, Oh Well is playing for the eighth time on repeat. "Tell me you're not going, Stevie."
"Robbie," he sighs, squeezing her tighter as she tries to wriggle out of his arms to glare at him.
"Steve."
"I can't not go."
"Yes you can." She pokes him in the ribs, but he doesn't budge. She pokes him again. "Not going to things is literally the easiest thing in the world. It's a hundred times easier than going to things. You should try it sometime, trust me. You go to too many things, and–"
"Bee," he hums to get her out of the rambling spiral before she can get lost in it.
"What I'm saying," he interrupts herself dramatically, "is that you can't do this to yourself. They're engaged. They're getting married. We're going to keep our distance until our brains and hearts and the traitorous little chemicals in our bodies catch up to reality, and then we get over them, and then we can go back and see them ever again. That's the logical thing to do, Steve. But you can't... You can't just go and get your heart broken and talk yourself into thinking it's the right thing to do. It's not."
Steve sighs into her hair and buries his face in her neck. He knows that. Technically, logically, he does.
But not going feels wrong. Wronger than anything else that's been hollowing out his chest and leaving nothing but emptiness and the ghosts of every smile, every touch, every baby, love, sweetheart, sunshine. Every imaginary future, every scenario where Eddie meant it. Meant those words, meant those smiles, meant it when he took Steve's hand to hold it.
But Eddie did mean it. Every time, he meant it; because he calls Argyle and Jeff and Gareth baby and sunshine and sweetheart, too. He takes their hands, too, leans in to kiss their cheeks and just holds them when he needs to. That's just the kind of person Eddie is. Always has been.
To go and assume he never meant it would be unfair.
To go and hope it could ever mean more when Chrissy has always been right there would just be stupid.
Well, good thing Steve has that kind of reputation with a few people anyway, so it's not even a statistical outlier, that one. It's not even worth a side note.
"I know," he rasps, his eyes beginning to sting as the next lyrics are carved into the empty space of where his heart used to be.
Oh well, oh well I can't live with myself As I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.
And I'll be what you need, You can call me anything. Just as long as we're still friends.
Tears prickle in his eyes and he doesn't bother to hold them back. Not now, not with Robin. They've both been crying on and off all week, even though Robin took it better than him.
"I know," he sobs, wrapping his arms around her even tighter as she lets herself be held because she knows that's what he needs. "I know, I know, I know. But I have to. I can't just... I can't just stop, Bee."
"I know," she sighs, climbing out of his hold eventually to wrap her arms around him in return as he cries into her shoulder.
The world (read: his Spotify playlist) makes it worse by playing Sum 41's With Me next, ripping out even the newly carved words.
Robin holds him for the rest of the night, even as he finally opens Eddie's message and types out a reply.
—I'll come!
And especially when there's a new message immediately.
—hot 🥵❤️
He leaves Eddie on read after that.
~*~
Saturday rolls around in a haze, and suddenly Steve finds himself looking at the front door of the little house Chrissy inherited after her mother passed a few years ago. It's a nice little house. Quaint. Perfect. Everything Steve could ever dream of, actually. And she deserves it. All of this and more.
There's noise coming from the garden, where people are laughing and having a great time. A happy time, celebrating their friends and all the good things in life that come with a love well placed.
God, what is he doing here? He can't do this. There is no way.
He's just about to pull out his phone and call Robin, tell her he's coming home, or ask her to tell him everything's gonna be alright, when–
"Steve!" Chrissy hurries towards him, throwing her arms around him in a tight, warm, perfect hug. God, he loves her so much. He melts right into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her middle to spin her around with a grin.
She giggles in delight and tells him to let her down again, which only makes him spin for another round, his grin turning into a genuine laugh.
"No, I hate you!" she laughs, but still doesn't step away from him when he puts her down again. Instead, she leans up and brushes a kiss to his cheek. "Hi, asshole."
"Hi."
He grins and takes her hands in his, just smiling at her for another moment before his eyes trail down to a ring he's never seen her wear before. Ah. Right.
"Oh shit! That it?"
"That's it," Chrissy says, looking down at her hand to look at the ring with a fond, happy little smile, her cheeks flushing red. It breaks Steve a little, but it also fixes something inside him to see her so truly, genuinely happy. "Pretty huh?"
"Very," Steve breathes, hiding the lump in his throat with a sound of awe.
Chrissy hugs him again for good measure and then takes his hand to drag him into the backyard the same way she just came out front, through a little gate off to the side instead of through the house.
Steve loves their backyard because it's always covered in sheerly endless colourful strings of light that are wrapped around decorative arches or poles, framing the back doors and the canopy swing set on the lawn, and just give it the most homey and comfortable atmosphere.
"Stevie!" Eddie exclaims immediately and jumps off from his chair, interrupting a conversation he's apparently been having with Argyle and Nancy to run up to him with such a giddy expression that Steve wants to cry. His heart leaps in his chest, coming back to life and saying one last goodbye at the same time.
"Hi," he says, hugging Eddie close before he can so much as think about what he's doing. But no matter how hurt he is, there will never be a world in which he won't want to hug Eddie Munson. "Sorry I'm late."
"No sorries, it's fine," Eddie murmurs into his neck, staying in the embrace endlessly, and Steve takes the chance to breathe him in. He smells so good. So, so good. It clogs his lungs and renders him unable to speak.
But who needs to speak when they have Eddie in their arms? Who needs to speak when all they have to do is never let go?
Eddie squeezes him a little tighter, and Steve wants to cry. He slowly, gently pushes away from the hug and turns towards the other guests, greeting them with a grin, a hug, or a handshake if they're not familiar.
When he gets to Wayne, the man eyes him with a look that Steve doesn't want to read too much, and his embrace is just a little longer, just a little stronger than usual.
“You look tired, son,” he says by way of greeting, and Steve can’t help but snort and shake his head a little.
“Good to see you again, too, old man.”
Wayne eyes him for one moment longer, then breaks into a small smile and pats Steve’s shoulder before stepping around him to go grab another drink.
After that, the night passes in a blur of talking to his friends, trying to understand what the hell it is that has Nancy and Argyle arguing so profusely, but with smiles on their faces. He fails. But it’s good to see them again, so he just basks in it for a while.
Or, he tries, because every second that he’s not talking or listening to someone, his eyes flick back to Eddie. Eddie, who’s lifting Chrissy from behind and smacking a loud, wet kiss to her neck, her jaw and her cheek, accompanied by her delighted squeals and laughter.
Eddie, who’s looking larger than life, a happy grin permanently plastered on his face as he reminds their guests that Chrissy was his bisexual awakening.
“I swear, she just swept me off my feet after years of thinking I was only into dudes. Knew I had to marry her, but man, I don’t know why she said yes.”
“I’m settling, honey,” Chrissy calls from the other end of the table they’re sitting around. “Only in it for that rockstar money and all.”
The whole table laughs at that.
“Hear, hear,” Eddie snorts, lifting his glass in a toast. Steve and the others lift theirs, too, even though Steve’s hand and arm and whole body feels numb and he’s not entirely sure he’s breathing.
A while later, he grabs a drink and retreats to the canopy swing, illuminated in the soft pink flow of the fairy lights wrapped around it. Eddie’s eyes land on him for a second and Steve thinks that he’ll come over and join him — but then one of Chrissy’s friends says something that distracts him and seemingly makes him fall into a monologue of sorts.
Steve watches, feeling only loss and longing as he does. Eddie is a force of nature. A spectacle. Something beautiful, something powerful, something secret that only a select few get to witness. To know. To appreciate.
Staring as he is, blind to the rest of the world, he startles a little when the swing jostles with another weight settling on it. He didn’t see Wayne coming to join him, and he’s not quite sure whether he should be grateful for the company or apprehensive of what the man who’s like a father to him might have to say.
“How are you doing, son?”
He frowns. “I’m alright.”
Wayne only hums, and Steve’s frown deepens. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him Wayne knows something. That he knows.
“Y’know,” he continues after a while, not looking at Steve but rather at his nephew and his fiancée. “I always figured it would be you.”
Steve crumbles. Yeah, me too, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. Watching the way Chrissy sits on Eddie’s lap with his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder as he tells her something that makes her laugh that cute, pretty, adorable laugh that Eddie then can’t help but join — that’s just something Steve would never compare to. Nothing he’d ever want to come in between.
Eddie and Chrissy are perfect. They’re happy. They fit, they match, they work. They worked so hard and treat each other so right.
They look giddy and serene at the same time, and it makes Steve’s eyes sting. Because he can never make Eddie look like that. He can never make Eddie look at him like that.
I always figured it would be you.
But he couldn’t. That bubbly kind of love, the sunshine kind of love. He knows that’s not for him. Steve’s too much for that. He would never be enough for Eddie — even if without Eddie, there’s nothing left of him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Wayne continues, unaware of Steve’s thought spiral. “I love that girl, I do. Always will. I think she’s too good for Eddie. Don’t tell him I said that,” he adds hastily, and Steve smiles through the tears that threaten to fall again.
“They’re perfect,” he rasps, laughing wetly as Chrissy starts chasing Eddie, who’s hiding behind a very distressed Argyle, who just wants his brochachos to chill!
Maybe it’s a laugh, maybe it’s a sob. He doesn’t have it in him to find out or care.
“They are. Doesn’t mean they’re right, son.”
Steve sighs and tears his eyes away from Eddie. “Wayne.”
“I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “Shutting up.” After a long pause of holding Steve’s eyes, he asks, “Will you be okay?”
No, he thinks immediately, the lump in his throat too big to say anything. So he just shrugs and swallows. “Sure.”
Maybe. Hardly. Probably not. Definitely not.
"No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me. You’ll always have a home with an open door with me, you hear me?"
"I’m not going anywhere, wayne," Steve says, though for the first time ever he doesn't really believe that. Maybe he needs to leave. To leave Eddie behind. Get over him. Cut out his heart and leave it here, run away to heal somewhere else, come back as a new person, or just stay away forever.
The thought makes a tear spill as an empty kind of desperation spreads it’s ugly wings inside his chest, and he's too frozen to wipe it away.
"You hear me?" Wayne repeats, gentler this time, but no less urgent for it.
"Yeah," steve rasps. "Thanks."
Another tear falls as Eddie gently pulls Chrissy closer to him and kisses her in the soft glow of the fairy lights above and around them. Their friends cheer. Steve wants to cry his heart out again.
“I—“ he swallows, wiping at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. I can’t do this, he wants to say. For the first time, that’s what he wants to say. “I think I’m gonna head home soon.”
“You bring your car?”
He shakes his head, feeling foggy and dazed and empty and endlessly, endlessly sad. “Was gonna, uh—“
“Let me drive you.” There’s no room for debate or argument there, and Steve wants to crumble again, but still he shakes his head.
“Wayne, no—“
“I’m taking you, son. Make sure you get home safe, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Don’t wanna keep your old man up all night, do ya?”
Steve concedes with a fond eye roll and a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They sit like that for another ten minutes — and if Steve leans into Wayne’s side a little, then that’s nobody’s business but theirs.
The car ride is quiet, but it feels weighted even as Wayne pretends not to see the way Steve keeps wiping at his cheeks as the silent tears keep falling, leaving him powerless to stop them.
I can’t do this, he keeps thinking over and over again.
“Just a little warning,” Wayne speaks up again as he pulls up to Steve’s building. “I think he’s going to ask you to be his best man, Stevie. Don’t do anything you’re not ready for, okay?”
I can’t do this.
He nods, numb again.
“I’ll do anything for him,” he breathes.
“That’s what I’m afraid of, yeah.”
He gets out of the car before he can find out what exactly Wayne means by that. The car stays where it is until the front door closes behind him, until he’s up in his bedroom and finds Robin already asleep.
Ten minutes later, he cuddles close to her and tries hard not to cry, but tonight’s memories have burned themselves into his mind. And he shouldn’t have gone. He knows. He knows.
I’ll do anything. I can’t do this. I’ll do anything. I can’t do this.
He can’t breathe, and Robin holds him through it, whispering sleepily to him as he cries himself to sleep, wishing for a world where he’s not absolutely and utterly in love with Eddie Munson, but failing to imagine one.
I’ll do anything. Anything but this.
tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen come back tomorrow for idk which prompt | read part 3 here
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crystalflygeo · 6 months
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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader-
cw/tags: This chapter has no smut but still contains highly suggestive themes and sexual implications. Mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. fem!reader suffers with self-worth and bad memories, including past insults and abuse.
notes: After so long finally part 2!! EEEEEEEE I am so excited but also so nervous pls ;w; like if you want the first part can be read as a standalone and have a "happy ending" but now I am committed to the emotional roller coaster, A/B/O dynamics and LONG BURN PINING so yep >:3c hope this does justice to everyone's expectation tho. And hope you like it and accompany me on this tale hehe
As a lil sidenote brackets [] now indicate past actions/words and bad memories, regular italics for emphasis, inner thoughts or the little pinyin I sprinkled here (which btw is taken straight from genshin wiki so...).
<- Part 1.
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Being precious all of the sudden was… different.
Your hand subconsciously kept touching your bonding mark, as if to make sure it was still there, to soothe you.
After a quick meal just between Zhongli and you, consisting of some soft rice buns and delicious minced meat packaged inside a crispy pastry shell, you were then offered some new clothes. It was much more elaborate and certainly more layered than anything you’d worn before: a long skirt and flowy sleeves in a silky soft fabric, beautifully embroidered and hastily modified to make a hole for your tail to slip out. A sash keeping everything in place while accentuating your figure. You immediately loved it although it felt a little heavy and restricting.
Now, you quietly follow Zhongli as he leads you around the palace. He’s back to his former fully-human appearance, wearing an elegant attire, and everywhere you go, people bow at him and cast curious silent glances at you. It was rather unnerving.
It’s fine, you are used to being stared at, judged. You hold your tail up close for comfort.
The place is huge and you quickly get lost trying to map it out in your head, simply following along until you reach a large room with a few simple beds scattered around. Bookcases and cabinets stacked the walls, filled with all sorts of books, papers, jars and things. A pungent smell present in the air.
A green-haired man leans over a desk, glasses perched on his nose as he frantically scribbles some notes. What seems like powders and plants litter the space around him, along with a few more glass containers, incense, and a tea set with a steaming fresh cup.
“Baizhu.” Zhongli’s voice calls and you stiffen a little, hearing it again after a while of silence. It is still warm and deep but with a more reserved and regal tone like when he first met you.
The green-haired man (a Beta, you recognize) looks up and blinks in surprise, then smiles brightly and says some words you do not understand, you shuffle in place.
“Yes, this is her.” Zhongli replies. “I will ask you to speak in in common tongue so she can understand as well, I don’t want to unnecessarily unnerve her.”
Well, that is… very considerate. It eases you a little.
“Of course, your majesty.” He turns to you, his eyes were a bright amber, also with slitted pupils. Was it common in liyuens? “My name is Baizhu, the royal doctor and apothecary, pleased to meet you, empress.”
Empress?!
“E-Empress?!” You can’t help but blurt out.
“Why of courssse.” A high-pitched voice hisses and you almost jump when a white snake peaks her head from her coils at the desk, staring up at you. “You’re mated to hisss majesssty the emperor, sssso, it would be underssstood you’re now the empresssss.” Her split tongue flickers.
Baizhu chuckles. “Changsheng, be nice.”
You don’t know what to answer, mostly because you’re still reeling from the fact that you’re apparently now an empress, and because there’s a talking snake.
Liyue is weird…
“I decided to bring her here exactly because of that.” Zhongli turns to you and suddenly holds one of your hands, softly, staring at you with such affection it makes you melt. “Darling, would you let him check your bonding mark for a moment?”
You’re a little nervous, but it is not like you can refuse… right? You nod quietly.
Baizhu approaches and examines your neck and you fight the urge not to flinch or growl. No Omega likes it when a stranger is so close to such a sensitive spot. He hums and tilts his head but doesn’t touch you. “It seems it’s already healed due to her illuminated beast blood but the scar is present. I’d say the bond has been properly established, congratulations your majesty.” He smiles warmly.
A grateful bubbly feeling creeps up your chest. Properly established. So, it’s true.
You feel Zhongli’s hand squeeze yours lightly and look down at it, then back up at him. “Thank you, Baizhu. I will not keep you any longer. We still have a lot to do and I’m sure you do as well.”
Baizhu bows at him (at both of you, you realize) and then you’re on your way. Not before hearing the snake’s hissy whispers again
“A fine yin, hm…?”
--------------------------------------------
This is… your new home.
Zhongli shows you around some of the areas in what he called the “inner court” of the palace complex. Everything is so… large and open and lavish it has your head spinning, your eyes darting in every direction trying to take in all at once, walking fast on your new clothes. He guides you along the dining hall, a small temple, crosses through an enormous main hall where he explains audiences are held, and then a gorgeous outer garden that completely takes your breath away.
The wooden gilded architecture in golds and reds, the fresh wind and gentle sun. All sorts of new sounds and smells. The painted walls and high ceilings. The new plants and flowers. The chatters in a different language… everything is so distinct from the desert.
You soak in the new environment. Inhaling deeply.
It is both terrifying and exhilarating.
Finally, he guides you to another room, it looks similar to the nest room where you’d first been at, but larger. It is sparsely decorated with a large and comfy looking-bed, a desk, mirror and a small table with a couple chairs and a tea set. It smells nice enough.
You peek up at Zhongli.
“This will be your room.” He explains.
…What?
“We kept it simple for now but you are, of course, free to furnish and decorate it however you’d like. It’s close to my own room and anything you might need.”
Wait what?
Your ears lower down and you seem to deflate a little, disappointed. “H-Huh? But… I-I won’t be sleeping with you?” You ask softly.
Mated pairs sleep together, don’t they? They share living chambers and mix their scents together to symbolize their union. That’s what you’ve always been told. You are to always be near your Alpha, at his beck and call, warm up his bed and be ready to please.
Maybe things are different in Liyue? Or maybe it’s because he’s an emperor. Master didn’t tell you anything, so maybe you are just making a fool of yourself right now on your-
Zhongli clears his throat and looks at you a little surprised “I simply thought you’d be more comfortable having your own space, we… don’t really know each other very well yet, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Impose? As in order? But he’s your Alpha! “B-But I want to! Please! I-I mean… I thought that since we’re b-bonded…” You mumble shyly.
His cheeks turn a little pink, you like when that happens, he looks a lot less serious. He cups your cheek and you inhale looking up at those gorgeous golden eyes. “My dear dragoness. I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything you don’t want to. I know you were raised… differently, I cannot claim to understand your experiences, but listen to me: you are safe here.” He says the last part slowly, enunciating each word. “No one will scold you or punish you, least of all me. I want you to be free to speak and choose what you want.” He sighs. “Though I know it’ll be difficult...”
Furnish, impose, free… you don’t know any of those words.
But no punishment, to choose what you want, to be safe… it sounds surreal even.
What do you want?
His eyes soften at your nervous silence. “Let’s try this… do you really want to share my room, or would you like to stay here? I won’t be upset if you do.”
“I…” Your tail curls around you. “I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.” You mumble.
“Then it would be my honor, however, this room will stay ready if you change your mind, alright?” You glance around at the room again, and nod. “Now that that is settled, I have one last thing to do. I need to introduce you to a few very special people before I leave to-”
“Leave?!”
You didn’t mean to yelp like that.
“J-just to do my duties, I am not leaving you, I promise.” He corrects, a little taken aback. “I am sorry my dear, but as much as I’d like to spend every moment by your side right now, I have a few pressing matters to tend to. I know you’re nervous, everything is new and scary and overwhelming but I promise I’ll leave you in good hands and be back as soon as I can.”
You nod, now feeling a little embarrassed at the whole ordeal. You’d been feeling so at ease with his presence, showing you around, listening to his voice name and explain everything you saw that you’d almost forgotten. “You’re the emperor, I’m sure you’re very busy. No need to worry about me, I’ll behave, my lord.”
He frowns a little at that but says nothing, and you choose to say nothing else either.
Going back to the main hall, you immediately spot three people lined up looking at you with a mix of the already expected curiosity and excitement. One of them in particular immediately catches your attention, he’s an Alpha and you can’t help but feel a little nervous…
“Allow me to introduce you, these three are my most loyal and closest council members: Ping, Ganyu and Xiao.” Zhongli gestures at them and all three bow lightly. “Like you and I they all have the blood of xiānshòu, and you can ask them for anything should you need help or have questions. I hope you learn to trust them and feel at ease.”
You nod quietly, still a bit fixated on the other Alpha.
“Xiao, or general Alatus, is one of Liyue’s strongest, most resilient and skilled warriors. He usually keeps guard at the palace to ensure my wellbeing and now yours as well, if you ever feel danger call out his name and he’ll come.”
Ah, did they notice you were staring…?
With a gesture of his hand Xiao manifests a gorgeous Jade spear, crystalline green shards reflecting light as he taps it by his side, standing firm, you flinch in surprise. “My spear shall now serve you too, empress.” His eyes too are golden and sharp, filled with a certain rigidness and determination you can’t quite put your finger on.
“Thank you, Xiao, dismissed.”
Xiao hums quietly and promptly disappears in a burst of black and green smoke, you stand there a little startled, your hand clings to the brown fabric of Zhongli’s sleeve.
“He might be an Alpha as well, but I promise you he’ll cause you no harm.” Your alpha murmurs softly towards you.
“O-okay…” You squeak, a bit embarrassed.
“Ganyu here is one of the most reliable people in the palace, perhaps the entirety of Liyue. Everything of importance reaches her ears and passes through her eyes. She’s able to organize meetings, events, report, compile information and assist every negotiation and decision of this palace with stunning efficiency. She too will help you with anything you need and might be in charge of a little logistics regarding you settling in for the next few days.” Zhongli smiles.
The young woman with long blue hair and… horns? chuckles and blushes a little. “Your majesty, you're too kind, I merely love doing my job.” She puts her hands together and beams at you, sunset eyes bright. “I’m so honored to meet you, rest assured I’ll take care of anything you need. I hope you feel comfortable and welcome at the palace!”
That sounded like a lot. You weren’t used to people coddling you like this. You didn’t want to give anyone trouble or work. “T-that’s alright, thank you.”
“Now, Ping is probably going to spend the most time with you, she’s very knowledgeable in culture, history and the inner workings of the palace amongst other things. She has graciously offered to teach you liyuen and anything else you’d be interested in.”
Unlike the other two Ping has a certain calm aura to her, contrasting Xiao’s seriousness and Ganyu’s excited energy. You can tell she’s a gentle old soul as she approaches you with a soft wrinkled smile and graying hair.
“Don’t worry young empress, while Lord Morax here is regrettably busy with a work-packed schedule,” She gives him a playful side stare “You and I will have some fun. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” She takes your hand and pats it comfortingly. It’s kind of an awkward gesture for you, but you still welcome the warmth and good intentions.
Zhongli chuckles quietly. “In that case, I’ll leave you in her care and see you at night for dinner, alright?” He seems to hesitate for a moment but then cups your face in his hands and places a soft kiss at your forehead. The unexpected gesture has you blushing scarlet and your heart speeding up like crazy. His thumb brushes at the scales under your eyes, so affectionate in the smallest ways… “I know it’s not ideal, but it’ll be fine, yes?”
You stare at his golden eyes, the red lines, his handsome face framed with dark hair, his serene smile.
You don’t like this. You don’t want him to leave. The idea makes you uncomfortable.
But it’s not like you can say no.
You nod.
“Thank you, Ping.” Both of them exchange a glance and then he turns to the blue-haired woman still in the room. “Ganyu, if you will.”    
“Right away your majesty!” She scurries after him, talking quickly in foreign tongue while both walk away.
You stare after him for a moment longer.
“It’s a little difficult, isn’t it?”
You quickly turn back to Ping and then look down, ears folding back.
She laughs softly. “No need to be ashamed dear, it is understandable that you are unsure with all this, it’s a lot of changes for such a short time and you bond is still fresh, but let’s take it easy.”
Your hand brushes at Zhongli’s bonding mark again. “O-Okay…”
“Are you hungry? Tired? Perhaps you want to rest a little?”
You want to scurry away to your mate’s room and curl up there, that’s what you want, but…
“Um, aren’t you… going to train me?”
Ping blinks a little taken aback “Train? Oh! Teach?”
Same thing.
“Well, yes. I did offer, but only if you’re feeling up to it young empress. You can take your time, we don’t have to start right away. And like I said, take it easy, it's only your second day here.” She explains. “You won’t be absorbing any information if you are uncomfortable and jittery like this.”
“S-sorry-”
“No need to apologize at all. Now tell me, is there anything you’ve seen or heard today that you’re curious about, anything you want to do?”
What you want…
You think back a few hours earlier. The infirmary, the small temple, the grand hall, and…
“The garden.” You speak. “Can we go outside and see?”
Ping smiles brightly. “Of course! I’m sure there are a lot of things there that will catch your interest and cheer you up.”
Your tail sways a little after you as you follow the old lady along the corridors.
------------------------         
The garden is breathtaking.
More than a garden it feels like a whole different world. Bright and exciting and colorful, full of life. It reminds you of an Oasis, but just… more!
A grand pond with multicolored fishes and a couple of turtles sunbathing. Walk paths made of stone, plants everywhere you see: in trees with vibrant yellows, oranges and all shades of greens, in flowers with soft colors and small petals, in thick bushes. The light filters through the leaves and there’s the soft tweets of small birds.
“It’s… so pretty!” You exclaim happily.
“I’m glad you think so. Gardens like this are carefully cared for and preserved to impress, but they also represent beauty, abundance a sense of harmony.” Ping explains as she is now the one following after you, skipping along the path. “These trees you see are sandbearers, and that one is a ginkgo tree, you can tell the difference by the shapes of their leaves.” She points at each one and you follow with your gaze, picking a small leaf from the floor, golden and fan-shaped.
“Ooh…”
“See those smaller fishes? They’re goldfishes. The bigger ones are kois.” She gestures at the animals freely swimming around. Some of them are huge!
“What do they eat?” You blurt out.
“Well, usually algae and wheat. We can get some another day and you can feed them.”
“Really?!”
“Of course.”
“Oh! Is that a koi too? It’s so… long and pretty.”
“Ah, that one is a golden koi. Lord Morax has a few of them here. They are also called Jīnchì Jiǎlóng or ‘false dragons’ you know? For the small horns and long bodies. They do resemble your tail a little, don’t they?”
You move your tail forward and stare at it, then stare at the serpentine fish.     
“Yes, sort of… Jin chi… jia long.” You mumble.
“Here, I think you’ll like these ones. Come with me.” You eagerly follow after Ping as she rounds the pond and guides you towards a few red bushes. They’re dotted with pink round flowers. “These are silk flowers, Nícháng-huā, usually harvested to make clothes, but there are many special ornamental variants and between us both, your dear mate has a weak spot for these so he has quite the collection.” She chuckles.
“Orna…metal?”
“Ornamental, it means mostly for decoration.”
“Oh!” Suddenly you feel dumb, you’d thought for a second that was a liyuen word too. “I’m sorry… I don’t even know common tongue very well.” How could you even expect to learn liyuen?
“No worries, dear, learning a new language is a daunting task, it takes a bit of work every day. If you keep learning, using and practicing words, you’ll get there.”
You smiled softly. Ping was so… patient and supportive.
So much different from…
[You have to try harder.]
[Tch that is not good enough.]
[Are you stupid?!]
[Useless omega.]
You looked at the budding silk flowers and blinked. Once. Twice. Why was your vision blurry now? What was this feeling?
“Oh, oh young empress please don’t cry. It’s alright” Ping’s alarmed remark helps you understand. She fusses over you. “Are you ok?”
You wipe at your tears and smile, a genuine bright smile.
“I’m fine.”
And this time, you truly mean it.
----------------------------------------
After a rather fancy bath (the kind of like you used to take before being presented to Alphas, with bubbles and scented oils...) and a good dinner Zhongli and you headed over for his chambers for the night. You couldn’t help but be a little… nervous.
This is stupid. He’s your Alpha.
He’s been nothing but kind to you.
What if he wants to… d-do things?
Then you’ll do it. He’s your mate. It’s your obligation.
You were the one who chose this anyway.
Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, anxiety creeping up your chest. Were your fingers trembling? Was the room suddenly cold?
As expected, the bedroom was quite matching his style. Golds, browns and a bit of red and black here and there. Dragon imagery adorning some of the walls, a tea cabinet with a small table and shelves filled with all sorts of trinkets from precious stones and books to a beautiful fan and a tea set.
And then there was the bed.
A large canopy bed, enough to probably have your body and tail fully stretched across and still fit in the mattress, beautifully decorated and filled with fabrics and pillows.
The scent of Zhongli’s Alpha pheromones was definitely strong.
He yawns and runs a hand along his forehead, combing along his hair before pulling out the clip on it, letting his long dark locks spill free. He takes off his robe revealing his naked torso and you jolt.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.           
You undress as well into your light sleeping clothes and gingerly slip into his bed, curling up around his pillows, surrounded by his scent.
His.
You are his.
It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine-
“Darling, is everything alright? Are you uncomfortable?” He asks concerned, climbing on the bed as well and reaching out to touch your arm. You squeak. “You’re… terrified, what’s wrong?” Then Zhongli’s eyes widen a little. “Oh. The scent… I completely overlooked that, my apologies. Is it too strong? Are you ok? Should have given you some things earlier for you to scent and include them here. This is no good…” He rambles a bit to himself as he sits up and crosses his arms thoughtfully.
You stare at him, anxiety still surging through your veins but now mixed in with confusion.
“Would you like to sleep in the other room we prepared for you instead?” He sighs.
“I… t-this is… you… would just let me leave?”
Zhongli tilts his head slightly, now he looks confused.
“I promised you that the room would be available-”
“So, you don’t want to mate?”
Silence.
He stares at you for a moment as you grip at the bedsheets, still tense.
His eyes widen as realization settles in.
Ah. The pink dusting in his cheeks is back.
“Y-You thought that… no! My dear, no, no, no…” He coughs into his fist awkwardly. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea. A-As I said before I want you to be comfortable and feel safe. No Alpha will force you to do anything you don’t want. Not even me. And you don’t have to feel forced to do things you don’t want to, either.”
You look down. Although you feel slightly more relieved.
“I want to stay here. A-and if you want to, I’ll service you, my lord. I was just… nervous, sorry.”
“I assure you there is no need for any of that.” He says softly. “Here.”
He pulls the covers and slips them over you both, lying down facing you but still keeping a little distance. You do the same, curled up face to face with him.
He’s so effortlessly handsome.
And kind.
And you like him.
But he’s still an Alpha.
“Is this alright? We’re just going to sleep, I promise.” He brushes some hair away from your face.
You nod.
“Is there… anything you want to talk about or ask me?”
You... don’t know.
You shake your head.
“Hmmm. Want to share about your day? What were you up to with Ping?” He gives you a playful smile. Suddenly he feels less like an imposing strict emperor, or like a scary Alpha. He’s just your Zhongli.
“She… showed me the garden. I wanted to see.”
“Ah, the royal garden has many fascinating sights and it’s a beautiful landscape to retreat to and ease one’s mind. I had the feeling you’d be interested.”
“There were so many beautiful things. She taught me about the silk flowers, nícháng-huā. And all the trees and fishes and birds.”
“Oh? Are these your first words in liyuen, my dear?”
You giggle. “I… suppose they are. She also showed me your turtles Jiàn and Fù and told me what their names mean, they are so cute. Oh! And we saw the liúlí bah… bai… bǎihé! I sang to them and they bloomed! It was... amazing.”
“I see. Not everyone can achieve that, I’ll admit I’m quite hopeless at singing.” He chuckles “What more did you learn?”
Feeling much more content and at ease you continue retelling all the new things you had experienced and the vocabulary you had learned including how to introduce yourself and some greetings and basic words. Talking for what felt like hours until weariness and sleep claimed you both.
Zhongli simply listened and stared at you, captivated. He seemed content as well.
It made you happy.
------------------------------------------
For the next couple of months, you established a sort of routine.
You’d wake up early alongside Zhongli, even though you didn’t need to, you simply enjoyed having some morning tea and breakfast with him. Afterwards he’d go tend to some of his official duties and you’d stay with Ping Lǎolao, learning more and more each day. By now you could even follow some basic conversation (provided the other person didn’t speak too fast) although reading and writing was still extremely difficult.
You’d expressed interest in some gardening and even headed to the kitchens to prepare some food by yourself. The maids claimed there was no need for the empress to do such ‘menial tasks’ but as an Omega you pride yourself in certain things, and cooking for your Alpha was something you’d yearned to do.
You were overjoyed when Zhongli praised your Jade parcels.
You’d always have lunch with him and some days he’d accompany you for a stroll or you’d stay at his study for some leisure time, or even at some meetings. It had been a little unnerving at first but you also knew it was important to know others and be known in the council, as well as understand Liyue outside of the palace walls. After all, you are an empress now.
At night, you slept close to him. The initial awkwardness of sleeping at opposite sides of the bed soon traded for a much cuddlier approach, often with you curled up to Zhongli’s chest or him spooning you, tails often intertwined together. The bed and the entire room now have a mix of your combined scents, like true mates.
And so, life was good…
------------------------------------------  
You’re slowly pulled out of your sleep as Zhongli stirs in the bed. You grumble a little and yawn, already missing his warmth. It was so pleasant…
“Good morning, my dear dragoness.”
“Morning…” You mumble, not opening your eyes and instead blindly reaching for his pillow to hug and cling to. “Can we stay for longer?” You whine.
“You definitely can, but I have to go.” He kisses your forehead “Rest, my dear.”
You pout but say nothing. Squeezing at the pillow and burying your face in it.
It smells so good…
------------------------------------------  
“Hmm… is it warmer today?” You wonder aloud as the maids help you up with the layers of your hanfu. The clothes still hot and heavy in contrast to what you used to wear at the desert, but today seemingly more so… the sash feels more constricting than usual. “I-I think I’d like to wear something a little lighter… if possible.”
“Of course, your majesty, no problem.”
You smile at them, grateful.
 --------------------------------------------
Sitting at Zhongli’s study room you practice some basic liyuen calligraphy while he seemingly goes over some important documents. The silence is comfortable and a warm cup of Qixing tea steams at both desks. Yet, something keeps bothering you.
You huff lightly, scratching and picking at the scales of your tail, irritated with the uncomfortable feeling. Why is it so itchy? A couple of them fall off, revealing new glossy ones underneath.
“Ah…” So that means…
You stop for a moment. The feverish feeling, scents being stronger on your nose, the urge to nest and cling to your mate.
Hmm… part of you is a little excited. And yet, there is fear.
------------------------------------------  
“You have quite the appetite today, dear. Eat slowly, the food won’t go anywhere.” Ping chuckles as you practically pick a little of every dish while still trying to keep some modicum of elegance. Chopsticks weren’t that easy after all.
“Yes… I think… I think it’s my pre-heat hormones.” You sigh before munching on a shrimp ball.
Your heat…
Your first heat with Zhongli. With any Alpha to be honest. You’d always had to endure them on your own (Master couldn’t have you get pregnant) and they were excruciating and debilitating, crying out for days with your skin burning and itching, trying to sate yourself with your fingers and humping pillows. But now… you’re happily bonded.
Would it… feel good again?
Like, that first time you two mated…
You feel your cheeks heat up.
“Excuse me?”
“Hm?”
You’re brought back to reality to see Ping staring at you seemingly a little alarmed.
“Pre-heat? Young empress, are you going into heat soon?”
“Y-yeah? Probably um, tonight…? Or tomorrow.” The onsets are always so quick, and your cycle has always been more or less stable.
The elder places her chopsticks down. “Have you told Lord Morax?”
“Um. N-No, not yet. But… m-maybe he already caught on...” You tilt your head.
…Right?
Then again even you took a couple of days to identify the signs, and now for sure you were at the brink of it. Maybe he’ll mate you tonight…
Hm… how will Zhongli react to your heat scent?
You have to do your best!
[Be a good omega.]
Ping stands up, her expression still gentle but with a sort of urgency to it, your instincts catch the feeling she’s worried about something.
“I have to inform about this, please stay here dear.”
Now you’re nervous. You nod slowly.
Why does it feel like you did something wrong…?
------------------------------------------
After that, things get… chaotic.
It’s only a while later that you find yourself at the infirmary. Ganyu and Zhongli are also there and everyone’s anxious pheromones in the air do not sit well with you (subtle as they are, your nose is hyperaware right now).
“I’m sorry the symptoms are already settled in. At this point it is simply not feasible to give her suppressants, she has to go through this heat.” Baizhu says, looking troubled.
Feasible? Suppressants? More unknown words but…
Is there something wrong with your heat?
Ganyu scurries off and Ping starts talking with Baizhu on the other side of the room. You cling to Zhongli’s robe, trying to soothe yourself with his presence but his scent is… agitated.
You whine to call out to him. You’re scared.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Zhongli pulls you close, cupping your face again, staring straight at you. “No… no my dear dragoness, of course you didn’t, it’s just…” He steels himself searching for the right words, it doesn’t ease you in the slightest. “We didn’t expect your heat so soon. I should have known, noticed… I’m sorry.”
Why is your alpha apologizing to you? That is ridiculous.
“Is it a bad thing?”
“It’s… not the right time.”
You’re so confused.
Don’t Alphas like it when Omegas are in heat? Soft, pliant, warm, needy and ready to breed.
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do this…” He says. “And… you could trigger my rut, you could end up pregnant. I don’t want to… scare you, or hurt you. It’s much too soon for us to share your heat. I thought we’d have more time for you to get acclimated to Liyue or…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind. For the next few days you’ll be in a separate room, yes? No one will disturb you during your heat, I promise.”
“B-But then… I… what…?”
Alone?
“Usually omegas take suppressants, like a type of medicine, to stave off their heats so they don’t have to face these risks or suffer them alone, and then when they’re ready, when they want, they choose to share heats with their partners.” He explains.
“But I want to! I… I’ll be good!”
Zhongli sighs. “Darling you are good, you are precious to me. You don’t need to prove anything or do things because they are ‘expected’ of you.”
He’s not listening!
He asks you what you want. He says you can choose. But now that you tell him, ask him, beg him even… he denies you?
How come you’re always making the wrong choice?
Was it all a lie then?
“But I- T-then- Why-… YOU’RE CONFUSING ME!!” You yell, tears stinging in your eyes.
There are a few gasps and you see not only Baizhu and Ping, but Ganyu and some of the maids staring at you in shock. You cover your mouth, eyes wide at the sudden burst of fierceness and emotion.
You yelled at him.
You talked back.
You should be punished.
He stares at you, frozen like a statue for a few moments. You stare at him, pitiful, your eyes begging. A whimper leaves you and Zhongli lets out a shuddering breath.
Oh, your Alpha wants you, you know it.
"Please..." You mumble, voice so small.
"I'm sorry my dear, it's better this way." His hand moves towards you, to cup your face again or brush at your hair you're not sure, but he stops himself before you can find out. He sighs, averting his gaze and looking conflicted, and then turns around.
This is your punishment.
"It'll be just a few days, you'll be well-cared for. This is for the best." He says sternly, voice pinched.
And then he leaves.
Your heart shatters.
Everything is a blur after that. You’re gently guided along towards an empty nest room, the same one you'd first met him at, there are some things with both your scents on it but they feel sterile, washed anew.
Your hands start trembling. Your eyes start to water. Your lips quiver. Your throat feels tight, choked and dry. Your body feels feverish, hot and restless.
Zhongli rejected you.
“Your majesty please calm down."
[Useless.]
[Moron.]
[Whore.]
You could no longer breathe, hear nor see. You feel like you're drowning, unable to process what just happened. Your mate…your precious mate…he…he…
He abandoned you.
“Your majesty…?"
You scream.
846 notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 9 months
Note
okay for fluff prompts with Eris I would love to see something where Eris is touch starved and desperate for affection from his mate/significant other
like you wanna be loved.
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author's note: i've been listening to a ton of ed sheeran lately hence this request being inspired by this song.
eris vanserra never learned how to be soft.
for his entire immortal existence, he was taught that affection was synonymous to weakness and to crave such things were beneath a future high lord. even after beron's demise, it was still hard for eris to admit that he desired that connection just like everyone else.
eris didn't realize how starved he was of affection until the first time you touched him. it was during the day of his coronation, in the great ballroom of the forest house. a crowd had gathered to see the high priestess place the rosewood crown upon his head. despite the fact that he had plotted and schemed his way into this exact moment for centuries, eris was terrified.
what if he was a terrible high lord? what if he failed his court? what if his greatest fear came true and he turned out to be exactly like his father?
eris would've spiraled into his thoughts had he not felt your fingers intertwining through his. the warmth of your hand anchored him to the present and his heart squeezed in his chest as he found you smiling up at him. the mating bond hadn't snapped yet, but at the back of his mind, eris had always known.
it was you. it had always been you.
"you're going to be the best high lord the autumn court has ever seen, eris."
"how can you be so sure?"
you tilted your head, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. "because i believe in you."
you had spoken with such conviction that it chased away all of his doubts. as he assumed his responsibilities as high lord, you became his constant. you were the anchor that brought him back to the present.
when he found himself frustrated during tense council meetings, you were there to squeeze his hand underneath the table. when he forgot to eat while toiling through the court's budget, you curled up on the couch with him, resting your leg atop his lap as you shared freshly baked bread and strawberry jam. and when the nightmares came, he let you hold him all through the night, focusing on nothing but the soft cadence of your breath and the warmth of your arms around him.
"you're always taking care of everyone," you said softly, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "it's okay to admit that you need to be taken care of too. let me be that for you, eris."
eris blinked, drinking your words in. he didn't think you realized what this moment meant to him. you were giving him permission to be vulnerable. you were teaching him that desiring love wasn't weak. in fact, it might have been the bravest and strongest that eris had ever felt.
vulnerability was uncharted waters, but for you, for his mate, he was willing to dive in headfirst. slowly but surely, your mate let you in and eris felt the sunlight of your love fill the dark corners of his calloused heart. before he could talk himself out of it, eris reached for you.
eris had kissed others before, but it had never been like this. his hands shook as he cradled your cheek. when your eyes met, there was such tenderness in his gaze that your chest tightened at the sight of him. his expression was raw and unguarded, like he was holding his heart in his hands and offering it up to you.
when his lips touched yours, eris felt like he had finally come home. your kisses were soft and tender, full of pining and yearning. he gently cradled your face and the thought that he was holding his entire world between his hands struck him just as you sighed in satisfaction. eris held you like he was afraid you might disappear. he kissed you again, long and deep this time before pressing his forehead against yours.
"you have to know," eris murmured, his voice full of passion and emotion. "surely you must know what you mean to me."
you smiled as tears blurred your vision. "i may have an inkling," you teased. "but it wouldn't hurt to hear you say it."
"i love you," eris said plainly as though he was reciting the infallible truth. as though his love for you had always been and will always be long after the world ceased existing. "i love you in a way that i never thought myself capable of. i love you as surely as the rising of the sun. i love you because you taught me that i could."
the tears fell as you looked up at eris. before you met him, love had always seemed like a vast concept that you would never be able to grasp, but now the word itself seemed inadequate to describe the gravity of what you felt for him.
"i love you too, eris." you placed his hand over your heart. "i love you so much that i don't think there's enough room in my heart to contain it."
eris closed his eyes and released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "i think you're my best friend."
you smiled in return. "i know you're my best friend and the love of my life."
"and the love of my life," eris repeated. "and every other life that i've ever existed in."
that four letter word—love. it hadn't been enough to describe whatever this was between you, but there was another that could. you and eris felt the exact moment that golden thread snapped between you.
mate.
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theresamouseinmyhouse · 7 months
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every day i think about tim drake being an international art thief wanted by interpol in the rr comics and i think about the sheer volume of comedy that could potentially have
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pineappical · 7 months
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Trent is breathing heavily, his lips slick, red. It makes Ted want to dive directly back in, kiss him again, but he controls himself. He wants to take his time in private, somewhere he can take Trent apart like he really wants to. “Did you know everyone thinks we’re already dating, just without the sex?” Ted asks. “Yes.” Trent says. He raises a snarky little eyebrow. “Was it meant to be a secret?” “And you really thought you didn’t have a chance with me?” Ted asks. His hand is still clasped in Trent’s, his hand settled on Trent’s waist, Trent’s hand is on his shoulder. He loves holding Trent like this, it’s what he had wanted to reach for every time he stood near Trent and his hands tingled - it feels right, perfect, fulfilling.
commission for @bahoreal's "number four was always you" fanfic which i adore SO MUCH!!!!!!! THANK YOUUUU 😭💛💛💛
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