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honeysuckleharringtons · 5 months

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Part One: "Double Shot" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) In the small town of Hawkins, Indiana lies the Byers family, a family of four who might just be gaining a fifth member of the family. — (Now) Brew and Me, known for its punny motto and delicious coffee, might soon be known for bringing people together in unexpected ways.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 1,808

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, small mention of abortion, vomit/morning sickness talk, mild swearing, mentions of food, mentions of medical-related things (not detailed, just mentioned), lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: thank you to @dungeons-are-too-cold and @heartshapedhargrove for constantly listening to me talk about this series, i love y'all sm

Originally Written: 10/16/2023

honeysuckleharringtons' masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, June of 1987 ]

Hawkins was a quaint little town, just about an hour and a half outside of Indianapolis. Hop on the interstate and drive northwest for a while, and soon enough, you'd be met with luscious sugar maples and winding back roads into a small town filled with big families. That's where you'd find the Byers', a family of four who lived near the outskirts. But for the four of them, things were about to change in a very big way.

"It's okay," you whispered to yourself, a gentle reminder that, quite frankly, you were having a hard time believing. "It's just a little pregnancy test. It can't hurt you."

The test itself might not have been capable of inflicting pain on you, but whatever results it bore to you a half hour later might. The visionary knife in your gut twisted at the thought of the test lighting up with a positive. You willed yourself not to think of it, afraid of somehow speaking it into existence despite the words not leaving your mouth.

A knock rapped against the bathroom door, startling you from your current train of thought. "Honey," Joyce called on the other side, "dinner's almost finished."

"Yeah, Mom," you managed to stutter out, attempting to mask the anxiety coursing through you. "I'm just gonna shower and then I'll be out."

You felt slightly bad that you'd be wasting all the available hot water for the next half hour, but you couldn't risk someone coming in and finding the test. The distraction a shower would bring you would be an added bonus.

As soon as your mother’s footsteps receded down the hardwood hallway, you got to work. After looking over the instructions at least five times and then managing to open the wrapper with trembling fingers, you finished the test. A couple nervous breaths exited your lips as you placed the stick on the counter, then promptly hopped in the shower. Attempting to wash away all the messiness of the day—but not the messiness of your thoughts—you let the water cascade down your body, the warmth of it lacking its usual sense of comfort.

As your fingers combed shampoo through your hair, thoughts ran rampant through your mind. Y/N Byers, a mother. Even if the title made you a bit hesitant, at least it would finally give your boyfriend a reason to grow the hell up, right? You loved him, truly, but that boy certainly needed a reality check.

You forced yourself to look at the upside of things. For one, you'd had plenty of training. Between your younger brother and babysitting throughout your teen years, you definitely knew enough to at least get by. Your current gig as a day-camp counselor at The Peony, the local country club, was just the cherry on top. For two… were there any more positives of this?

While you wanted to see a good side to the situation, you couldn't help but consider the possibilities of getting kicked out of the house, being forced to break up with your boyfriend, and the decision of even keeping the baby or not. Your stomach twisted at the thought of being homeless and your baby being fatherless. A wave of nausea hit you so hard you were nearly puking in the shower, a pain so horrid that morning sickness could surely never compare.

You rushed out of the shower, not even bothering to grab a towel before emptying what little was left in your stomach into the toilet. Your eyes glared up at the test on the counter as you wiped off your chin with a piece of toilet paper. It was almost funny, you thought, that a tiny white stick could be holding the answer to your future.

Forcing yourself up from the cold tiles under your knees, you managed to reach the shower and finish the rest of your nightly routine. Your hands shook as you gripped the nob, wondering if this would be the last shower you took before your final step into womanhood.

You had to remind yourself how to breathe as you reached for the test, giving yourself one last look in the mirror. Your skin was some shade of pale green, nausea coursing through you as naturally as the blood in your veins. Here goes nothing.

Blue. The test lit up the brightest shade of blue. It might as well have been screaming, "You're pregnant, dumbass!"

The test fell from your hands and into the sink, the device practically staring at you. Another wave of nausea hit you, forcing you to sit down on the cold and wet edge of the tub. As your exhausted hand ran through your hair, you sifted through the millions of thoughts fighting for your attention.

Another soft knock sounded against the door, one of your brothers reminding you that dinner was finished. Maybe you answered, "I'll be out in a minute," or maybe you didn't manage to say anything at all. You really weren't sure because all the blood in your body rushed straight to your ears to the point where you couldn't even hear yourself breathing anymore. Maybe you'd passed out and this was all a strange fever dream. You really, truly, didn't know.

In fact, in the midst of your internal battle, there was really only one thing you were positive about: you had no idea what the hell you were going to do.

[ Now, November of 1991 ]

"Welcome to Brew and Me, where our motto is- Oh, it's you." You sighed heavily as you registered who was standing on the other side of the counter.

Steve just stared at you with his eyebrow raised. "I'm not sure I'm familiar with your motto. Can you remind me again, miss?"

Your eyes nearly rolled out onto the counter. "The usual?" you asked reluctantly, hands on your hips as you all but challenged his request.

He pushed his wire-frame glasses up the bridge of his nose, a hand landing on his hip in rebuttal. You'd never seen another human being as joyful as Steve was when he got the opportunity to mock you. "That's not the motto," he reminded you in a sing-song tone.

All interest in fighting left your body, finally giving in to his wish. "It's always a brew-tiful day for coffee," you forced out.

His lips turned downward into the cutest pout, and your heart swooned at the sight. "You should really work on how you express-o yourself. That was just sad."

Steve knew his slip of the tongue would make your blood boil, and his pout quickly turned to a smirk as he watched annoyance wash over your face. "The word is espresso, and I'll have you know that I have been considered one of the happiest coworkers here so take that."

He snickered at your sad attempt at a fight. "I find that incredibly hard to believe," he countered. "To answer your previous question, yes, I'd like my usual. Double shot tonight."

A flash of sympathy appeared on your face. You knew all too well what he was in for. "Long night?"

"Exam in the morning, clinical tonight."

You gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to your coworker to bark out his order. "Hazelnut Americano with double shots for John Lennon!"

"Someday," he said, his eyes narrowing in on you as you struggled to hold in your laugh, "you're gonna realize that these glasses are one of my best features. And then, you will finally agree to that date with me."

You just shook your head, waving him off toward his favorite table in the house. A small smile crept its way to your lips, but you did your best to hide it. Your heart went aflutter at even the simplest of actions from him.

Steve Harrington could be described as the most attractive man alive, but just as easily be described as the most stubborn one in the same breath. Sure, he had beautiful, tousled brown hair and hazel eyes that you could get lost in if he'd allow it. Add in the way he looked in his uniform slate-gray scrubs and you were done for. But on the opposite hand, Steve also didn't know how to take no for an answer. Still, you found it quite endearing that three months in, he was still very interested in that date he brought up every time he came into your little coffee shop.

The devil on your shoulder practically begged you to say yes—yes to Steve, yes to the whole nine yards that came along with dating him, all of it. But the idea of actually saying it? Well, to be frank, it scared you more than anything in the whole world. Still, you couldn't help but wonder what it might be like if you ever did accept. His hair fixed up the right way, scrubs traded in for slacks and a nice sweater… your heart flipped at the thought.

That was when that devil sitting on your shoulder decided to do the most devious thing. You didn't really believe in 'out of body' experiences, but it was the only logical explanation to why your feet had carried you over to his table all on their own.

You'd never have the courage to say what was coming out of your mouth, but your little demon friend surely did. "Tell you what, doc?" you started, leaning down and narrowing your eyes at him. "When you successfully guess my favorite thing on the whole menu—without help from any of my coworkers, classmates, or professors—then we'll talk."

Steve just stared at you, mouth agape, for the remainder of the time it took one of your fellow baristas to whip up his coffee. Some mix of shock and fear of disappointment sat on his face for so long that you headed back to the counter, grabbing his coffee and a sympathy cookie from the display while you waited for him to come back to life. When he still didn't respond, you did the only thing left—say the motto and continue on with your work.

"Have a brew-tiful day, friend," you said, much more enthusiastically than earlier. You glanced down at your watch, noticing it was almost time for your break. You were tempted to sit at his table just to see how long it would take him to form another coherent sentence.

Finally, he spoke again, slowly coming out of his dazed state. "You…" he hesitated, possibly trying to think up an intelligible string of words from that dictionary he always carried with him for no apparent reason. "You said yes…"

"I did," you confirmed. "And I hate to rush off, but I have to take my break."

"You said yes," he repeated, pure shock coming over him. "Huh. I guess it really is a brew-tiful day."

AAAHHH, MY BABY IS OUT INTO THE WORLD 🥹

I don't think anyone understands how happy I am for you guys to finally get this series. Like, I have been shaking in my boots, waiting to post this for you guys and now you have it!!! 🥹

Thank you so very much to Georgia (tagged in the extra notes at the top) for listening to me talk about this series sm and for helping me brainstorm so many lil things for this series. I love you so very much, my bestie 💞

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed and I can't wait to see you guys back here for part three next weekend! 🫶🏻

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

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isbergillustration · 2 years

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Today's inktober is courtesy of today's creative writing assignment, which you can read under the cut;

Mask, gloves, hand sanitizer, that used to be all you needed. Then you could go out, have as much fun as you like. Not here, though. Not any more. In other places, they got vaccines. Well, they are getting them. Twice a year, every year, because those are the important people. The ones with access. The same sort of people, maybe, who during the regular lockdowns have vast houses and gardens in which to isolate, not tiny shithole apartments. Have you tried walking up fourteen flights with post Covid lung capacity? It’s not fun. And in the mask, too. We’ve moved past the cloth and paper masks, most of us. They don’t last long enough, and they’re not sufficiently secure for when you use your one allotted day out waiting in queues all day with people trying to hide their coughs, who have somehow faked their tests. They never quite figured out a foolproof way to stop people from doing that. No, it’s proper gas masks, these days. I got mine off the net in the early days, I was lucky. It’s from the cold war and there’s probably remnants of worse stuff, but it’s got filters and it keeps the Covid and the smells out. So far.

I’ve only gotten it four times in the last five years, which is pretty good. I got a shot of Astra-Zeneca, back when they still bothered producing it, when they figured the leftover from the rich West were good enough for us. After the heart attacks and deaths. That’s all, though. No more shots for me, at least not of that kind. Maybe a few of some cheap vodka. If I can get any. It has been hard getting anything not local and dirt cheap for years. I’ve got contacts, but even they are becoming unreliable.

I finish closing up my protective suit, such as it is. It was sent by the government, three years ago now, and several patches are taped up from the inside, painted the pale grey white to blend in. I can’t afford a new one. I also can’t afford to get sick again. Last time it was months before I was able to function again, and that was back when Emily was alive. When I still had someone to- anyway.

As I close and lock the door behind me, the automatic disinfection shower starts. Before I can leave my little airlock made from cheap plastic, I have to get sprayed down. At least this time it is scented, but the scent they have chosen seems to be brackish water with rotting seaweed.

No one else on my floor is allowed out today. Can’t risk contamination. It works, I suppose, as a system. Part of these new blocks they built, designed for social distancing, as the ads say. Dirt cheap rent, so all the people with the highest risk get stuck in the same space, and are easier to quarantine. Means that other than the noises that seep through the walls, you don’t get to know your neighbours. I know there lives a family above me. I know that there’s only one set of running and jumping toddler feet I hear from there lately.

The fresh air would be nice if it wasn’t filtered through fifty year old filters, but I enjoy it anyway. You only get to go out every fourteen days, after all, and it’s been a while. If you’ve got a pet that needs air, or a small enough child, there’s exception. I’ve got neither, these days. I’ve got no one. It’s safer, I hear people say. You’ve got no one else you’ve got to worry about getting sick. No, I agree, not any more.

Within five minutes I reach the queue. It snakes through the few green spaces between the apartment buildings. It’s not to bad today. Two kilometres, maybe. I forgot to check the app before I left, and I can’t open the suit to get at my phone. No one can. Suppose that’s the bright side of this. We’re forced to talk to each other, because there’s nothing else. It’s hard, though, through the masks. A sort of sign language has developed, combined with gestures. It’s not proper sign language, for that you need to see the mouth, and have better finger mobility than these gloves allow for, but it’s enough. How are you? What about this weather, huh? Lost anyone? Condolences. Wonder if there’s fresh bread today. In other places people got into baking during the pandemic, but, well. With the price of things these days…

Later, after an efficient 5 hours of queueing, I got my shopping for the next two weeks done. It’s locked in my airlock for 24 hours for safety. Much of it is canned, don’t know what good the sanitiser does for that, but I’m no biochemist. My contact, though…

When I got home, I found an encrypted message waiting for me. After making sure it was safe, running it through decryption, it was there: an offer of a new underground vaccine. Not tested, no. This was that. Illicit search for human test subjects. And it paid, too. Not a lot, but enough to matter. Would I be interested?

Fcuk yes, I type, sending it before I can catch my typo, sign me up.

I haven’t even read the risks found in animal trials, but god, if it works? Anything for the kind of freedom those who can afford to go abroad and get the vaccines have. There’s parts of the big cities, blocked off from everyone who couldn’t get vaxxed. I hear it’s real bougie now, all nice and not constantly covered in trash. The environment is recovering too. Isn’t it nice, they say, strolling through sparsely populated parks, not even bothering to carry masks these days. Some of them don’t even have some remnants of long Covid symptoms. God. Most people have had it a number of times, now. And it doesn’t get easier. It’s worth a little, I check the list, vomiting, migraines, heart disease, certain cancers and strange dreams. A hint of kidney failure if you’re lucky. Poor mice. But hey, what have I got to lose?

#inktober #covid #inktober 2022 #gas mask #plague chic #illustration #ink #sketchbook #my art #artists on tumblr

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stufftippywrote · 3 years

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not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

#i hate writing endings: a novel #check please #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp ficlet #zimbits #but more really about bitty himself #stuff tippy wrote

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dramioneasks · 3 years

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HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 4)

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Famous Shakespeare Lines, February 2021:

Short Life For A Daffodil by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco have a wild daughter who likes to pull up daffodils and frustrate her parents, but the duo wouldn't be without their children.

Friends Dont by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - "You don’t choose who you fall for!” “No, because I sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here now would I?” Hermione mourns the loss of a relationship.

The Malfoy Mistress by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Unable to bear the sight of Bellatrix carving into Hermione Granger at Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy whisks his hated former schoolmate to safety. He should have known better.

Rules of Engagement by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Lucius just had to be difficult about the idea of Draco and Hermione getting married. Will Draco and Hermione allow him to throw his weight around, or will they bring him to heel?

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Popular 90's TV Shows, March 2021:

The Death of Theo Nott by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “Hermione.” Her head whipped up to see the broken expression in Draco’s eyes. “He wouldn’t kill himself.”

The Night of the Rats by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - What happens when a prank war goes too far?

Perfect Harmony by Talonwillow (TalonWillow) - T, one-shot -Professor Slughorn's star Potions pupil Hermione was tired of being the ugly duckling, so she created a potion that would transform her into a beautiful swan. Everyone seemed to like the shiny new version of her... Well, except for herself and maybe one other. Would Draco Malfoy convince her that what everyone else was seeing was what he saw every day, and would Hermione finally be able to live in Perfect Harmony?

Dramione Go Star Trekking by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Riker has made a pass at Hermione and she doesn't quite know how to deal with it.

Bloody Colonials by Maira - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger has had a long week, and the last thing she wants to do is leave the comfort of her home. But when her best friend asks for her help in dealing with a possible cursed object, what can she do but help? Brownies, Potion-making robe etiquette, and a cursed Nigerian mask all add up to a typical night at Hogwarts. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.

The Latest Teenage Drama by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Teenagers. Gotta love em. Teenage dramas? Not so much. Draco and Hermione navigate the perils of unwanted teenage behaviour - 90s family sitcom style.

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Around the World, April 2021:

The Assignment by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco, Aurors, have been sent to Cape Town on a top secret assignment - to track down a former Death Eater.

Finding Them by KrysKrossZee - T, WIP - After not finding her parents in Austrailia, Hermione enlists Draco's help and the two make their way to Vancouver when they have a new lead.

DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Language of Flowers, May 2021:

Spilled Ink by Maira - M, one-shot - It's nearly Christmas, and things aren't great. Draco Malfoy is still on house arrest due to the Wizengamot being a bag of dicks. Hermione Granger is out of the country on a job, which means he won't see her for a few weeks. And to top it all off, Hermione has sent Draco a plant. A green, spiky plant, for no reason that he can fathom. Oh, and a spelled journal that he's now supposed to write in. Because nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan. Written for the DFW Deal or No Deal Challenge!

Forever by Art3misiA - M, one-shot - Though they may be gone, our memories of them remain forever.

The Little Things by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When Hermione buys Draco a cup of coffee and leaves it on his desk, it throws Draco through a loop and he wonders what he should get her in exchange.

The Climbing Vine by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - After receiving some startling news, Draco runs out of the house. He receives some advice from a surprising source.

Changing of the Seasons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - Hermione & Draco find a local park and two unlikely faces to greet them.

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Draco's Birthday Soundtrack, June 2021:

Straight to the Heart by AdAsttra - T, one-shot - Draco's ready to tell Hermione how he feels, but Cupid has other ideas.

Stick Around by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione doesn't know why Draco is the only one who makes her feel safe, but she is glad that she is able to get some reprieve from her brain.

Wild and Wired by Maira - M, one-shot - Need your lovin' here beside me, Need it close enough to guide me, I've been hopin' you would find me, You're the biggest part of me. - Hermione was expecting a fun night out with her boyfriend and her friends. She was not expecting ice cubes, sick ponies, and a serenade beautiful enough to melt her heart. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.

Let's Get Serious (Please, for the Love of Merlin!) by Art3misiA - G, one-shot - Draco wants to get serious, but Hermione isn't so sure. Will their opposing views make or break them?

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Magical Monsters, July 2021:

There's A Zouwu In My Basement by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - When a creature has broken into the Malfoy Manor dungeon, Draco has to call for help.

Miseria by crochetaway - T, one-shot - Hermione tames a Dementor.

Aegis by Maira - M, one-shot - Their world is in ruins, and their only protection against creatures wanting to kill them is about to fall. They make a plan to trek across the country to Hogwarts, where others have gathered to make a new home within the castle. There, they will be safe. One problem - before they go, there's a queen to kill. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal Challenge.

Fear & Desire by myladymay - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy wants to change his life. He returns to Hogwarts for Eighth Year and finds himself confronted with both his biggest fear and greatest desire, all wrapped up in a Gryffindor tie.

Innocent Monsters by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn't anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys.

Transformed by Art3misiA - T, one-shot - Draco and Charlie have a dragon to catch, and time is running out. Meanwhile, Hermione is missing, adding to Draco's woes.

DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos, August 2021:

Three's a crowd, four's trouble by AnnaRitaLi - M, WIP - p>My sister is right. My life did change that evening. I just don't think Rosalind meant for me to steal her boyfriend, or I don't think I stole him, Draco, not precisely. You cannot steal something that doesn't want to be whisked away. That's my experience, at least, and I've stolen quite a few things over the years. So I can say this with confidence. You can't lose something you never had. But you’ll have to read it in the book, dear. While the Crown doesn’t wish for me to speak out in public, I have been silent for too long. You see, There were three of us in this marriage. And people, the press, have assumed many things over the years about Draco and me. So this book, as you’ll see, it’s my attempt to set the record straight. Yes, there were three of us in this marriage, but there were also much more going on than that. -- This is the story the Crown never wanted to get out. In other words, I bring you the x-rated version of the book ‘Diana - her true story - in her own words’.’ It’s the Dramione as Charles & Diana AU you didn't know you needed.

The Marquess and the Kitchen Girl by Art3misiA - E, 8 chapters - Draco Malfoy is the son of the most powerful Duke in Wiltshire. One day, he will be the ruler of a large duchy. Hermione Granger lives happily with her parents - that is, until tragedy strikes. Two children will become friends, and gradually discover a forbidden love that seems as if it might one day defy the odds. Alas, this is a tale of doomed lovers.

In Her Arms by KrysKrossZee - M, one-shot - Draco's worked his way up through Voldemort's ranks but it would seem that all of his work has been for nothing when Dolohov captures a new prisoner.

The Happiness I Seek by Maira - M, one-shot - To those without a soulmate, the world is devoid of colour. They say that if you are lucky enough to meet your soulmate, everything changes. The world is brighter, food is richer, and you find a love you never knew you needed. Draco Malfoy has never been lucky. Written for the DFW's Deal or No Deal challenge.

darling! by itscometothis - M, one-shot - When Draco and Hermione are invited to help demonstrate a path forward for Wizarding Britain and its reconciliation, neither really feel like they can refuse - Hermione for moral reasons and Draco for practical ones (read: Azkaban sounds bad). But they have very different ideas on how to play up this fake relationship. Written for DFW's Deal or No Deal: Legendary Duos - Kermit and Ms. Piggy. It's as ridiculous as you expect.

A Thousand Ships by floorcoaster - M, WIP - Draco Malfoy knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to reach out and take it.

Quiet My Demons by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - “Unhappy, darling?” He murmured, his cigar placed on its resting dish, dashed out - a little puff of smoke rising into the air between them before disappearing. “Yes, completely.”

I Love Draco by crochetaway - G, one-shot - A few slice of life scenes with Hermione, Draco, and Scorpius ala I Love Lucy style!

DFW's Deal or No Deal: The Final Word, September 2021:

Crime & Punishment by itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - TRIAL TRANSCRIPT OF DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY IS FORMALLY CHARGED WITH THE FOLLOWING: CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MURDER AIDING AND ABETTING A MURDER USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: IMPERIUS (2 COUNTS) USE OF UNFORGIVABLE CURSES: CRUCIATUS (47 COUNTS) PARTICIPATING IN A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION -- I don’t regret hoping. I thought I might, at the beginning, do you remember? But I don’t. I regret nothing about you, my love. Eternally yours, Draco -- A story of hope, punishment, and the nature of justice told in trial transcripts, visits in an interrogation room, and letters.

Boats Against the Current by AlannaTCooper - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is trying to escape his past by running as far away as he can. But the past - and his nightmares - keep pulling him backwards.

By His Side by KrysKrossZee - T, one-shot - Hermione is lonely but there's at least one person who can break through her loneliness.

Trying To Live by IzzieStellar - T, one-shot - After her husband dies, Hermione can’t seem to remember how to live and her friends vow to help her.

In the Dead of Night by AdAsttra - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are some of the last people to leave Hogwarts under the veil of a cold, dark night.

This fest is ongoing.

#dramionefanfictionwriters #Fests/Exchanges/Challenges #dramione

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rebelontheroad · 4 years

Text

MICHELLE OBAMA FULL SPEECH (Dem Convention)

«Good evening, everyone. It’s a hard time, and everyone’s feeling it in different ways. And I know a lot of folks are reluctant to tune into a political convention right now or to politics in general. Believe me, I get that. But I am here tonight because I love this country with all my heart, and it pains me to see so many people hurting.

I’ve met so many of you. I’ve heard your stories. And through you, I have seen this country’s promise. And thanks to so many who came before me, thanks to their toil and sweat and blood, I’ve been able to live that promise myself.

That’s the story of America. All those folks who sacrificed and overcame so much in their own times because they wanted something more, something better for their kids.

There’s a lot of beauty in that story. There’s a lot of pain in it, too, a lot of struggle and injustice and work left to do. And who we choose as our president in this election will determine whether or not we honor that struggle and chip away at that injustice and keep alive the very possibility of finishing that work.

I am one of a handful of people living today who have seen firsthand the immense weight and awesome power of the presidency. And let me once again tell you this: The job is hard. It requires clearheaded judgment, a mastery of complex and competing issues, a devotion to facts and history, a moral compass, and an ability to listen — and an abiding belief that each of the 330,000,000 lives in this country has meaning and worth.

A president’s words have the power to move markets. They can start wars or broker peace. They can summon our better angels or awaken our worst instincts. You simply cannot fake your way through this job.

As I’ve said before, being president doesn’t change who you are; it reveals who you are. Well, a presidential election can reveal who we are, too. And four years ago, too many people chose to believe that their votes didn’t matter. Maybe they were fed up. Maybe they thought the outcome wouldn’t be close. Maybe the barriers felt too steep. Whatever the reason, in the end, those choices sent someone to the Oval Office who lost the national popular vote by nearly 3,000,000 votes.

In one of the states that determined the outcome, the winning margin averaged out to just two votes per precinct — two votes. And we’ve all been living with the consequences.

When my husband left office with Joe Biden at his side, we had a record-breaking stretch of job creation. We’d secured the right to health care for 20,000,000 people. We were respected around the world, rallying our allies to confront climate change. And our leaders had worked hand-in-hand with scientists to help prevent an Ebola outbreak from becoming a global pandemic.

Four years later, the state of this nation is very different. More than 150,000 people have died, and our economy is in shambles because of a virus that this president downplayed for too long. It has left millions of people jobless. Too many have lost their health care; too many are struggling to take care of basic necessities like food and rent; too many communities have been left in the lurch to grapple with whether and how to open our schools safely. Internationally, we’ve turned our back, not just on agreements forged by my husband, but on alliances championed by presidents like Reagan and Eisenhower.

And here at home, as George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and a never-ending list of innocent people of color continue to be murdered, stating the simple fact that a Black life matters is still met with derision from the nation’s highest office.

Because whenever we look to this White House for some leadership or consolation or any semblance of steadiness, what we get instead is chaos, division, and a total and utter lack of empathy.

Empathy: that’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. The ability to walk in someone else’s shoes; the recognition that someone else’s experience has value, too. Most of us practice this without a second thought. If we see someone suffering or struggling, we don’t stand in judgment. We reach out because, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” It is not a hard concept to grasp. It’s what we teach our children.

And like so many of you, Barack and I have tried our best to instill in our girls a strong moral foundation to carry forward the values that our parents and grandparents poured into us. But right now, kids in this country are seeing what happens when we stop requiring empathy of one another. They’re looking around wondering if we’ve been lying to them this whole time about who we are and what we truly value.

They see people shouting in grocery stores, unwilling to wear a mask to keep us all safe. They see people calling the police on folks minding their own business just because of the color of their skin. They see an entitlement that says only certain people belong here, that greed is good, and winning is everything because as long as you come out on top, it doesn’t matter what happens to everyone else. And they see what happens when that lack of empathy is ginned up into outright disdain.

They see our leaders labeling fellow citizens enemies of the state while emboldening torch-bearing white supremacists. They watch in horror as children are torn from their families and thrown into cages, and pepper spray and rubber bullets are used on peaceful protesters for a photo op.

Sadly, this is the America that is on display for the next generation. A nation that’s underperforming not simply on matters of policy but on matters of character. And that’s not just disappointing; it’s downright infuriating, because I know the goodness and the grace that is out there in households and neighborhoods all across this nation.

And I know that regardless of our race, age, religion, or politics, when we close out the noise and the fear and truly open our hearts, we know that what’s going on in this country is just not right. This is not who we want to be.

So what do we do now? What’s our strategy? Over the past four years, a lot of people have asked me, “When others are going so low, does going high still really work?” My answer: going high is the only thing that works, because when we go low, when we use those same tactics of degrading and dehumanizing others, we just become part of the ugly noise that’s drowning out everything else. We degrade ourselves. We degrade the very causes for which we fight.

But let’s be clear: going high does not mean putting on a smile and saying nice things when confronted by viciousness and cruelty. Going high means taking the harder path. It means scraping and clawing our way to that mountain top. Going high means standing fierce against hatred while remembering that we are one nation under God, and if we want to survive, we’ve got to find a way to live together and work together across our differences.

And going high means unlocking the shackles of lies and mistrust with the only thing that can truly set us free: the cold, hard truth.

So let me be as honest and clear as I possibly can. Donald Trump is the wrong president for our country. He has had more than enough time to prove that he can do the job, but he is clearly in over his head. He cannot meet this moment. He simply cannot be who we need him to be for us. It is what it is.

Now, I understand that my message won’t be heard by some people. We live in a nation that is deeply divided, and I am a Black woman speaking at the Democratic Convention. But enough of you know me by now. You know that I tell you exactly what I’m feeling. You know I hate politics. But you also know that I care about this nation. You know how much I care about all of our children.

So if you take one thing from my words tonight, it is this: if you think things cannot possibly get worse, trust me, they can; and they will if we don’t make a change in this election. If we have any hope of ending this chaos, we have got to vote for Joe Biden like our lives depend on it.

I know Joe. He is a profoundly decent man, guided by faith. He was a terrific vice president. He knows what it takes to rescue an economy, beat back a pandemic, and lead our country. And he listens. He will tell the truth and trust science. He will make smart plans and manage a good team. And he will govern as someone who’s lived a life that the rest of us can recognize.

When he was a kid, Joe’s father lost his job. When he was a young senator, Joe lost his wife and his baby daughter. And when he was vice president, he lost his beloved son. So Joe knows the anguish of sitting at a table with an empty chair, which is why he gives his time so freely to grieving parents. Joe knows what it’s like to struggle, which is why he gives his personal phone number to kids overcoming a stutter of their own.

His life is a testament to getting back up, and he is going to channel that same grit and passion to pick us all up, to help us heal and guide us forward.

Now, Joe is not perfect. And he’d be the first to tell you that. But there is no perfect candidate, no perfect president. And his ability to learn and grow — we find in that the kind of humility and maturity that so many of us yearn for right now. Because Joe Biden has served this nation his entire life without ever losing sight of who he is; but more than that, he has never lost sight of who we are, all of us.

Joe Biden wants all of our kids to go to a good school, see a doctor when they’re sick, live on a healthy planet. And he’s got plans to make all of that happen. Joe Biden wants all of our kids, no matter what they look like, to be able to walk out the door without worrying about being harassed or arrested or killed. He wants all of our kids to be able to go to a movie or a math class without being afraid of getting shot. He wants all our kids to grow up with leaders who won’t just serve themselves and their wealthy peers but will provide a safety net for people facing hard times.

And if we want a chance to pursue any of these goals, any of these most basic requirements for a functioning society, we have to vote for Joe Biden in numbers that cannot be ignored. Because right now, folks who know they cannot win fair and square at the ballot box are doing everything they can to stop us from voting. They’re closing down polling places in minority neighborhoods. They’re purging voter rolls. They’re sending people out to intimidate voters, and they’re lying about the security of our ballots. These tactics are not new.

But this is not the time to withhold our votes in protest or play games with candidates who have no chance of winning. We have got to vote like we did in 2008 and 2012. We’ve got to show up with the same level of passion and hope for Joe Biden. We’ve got to vote early, in person if we can. We’ve got to request our mail-in ballots right now, tonight, and send them back immediately and follow-up to make sure they’re received. And then, make sure our friends and families do the same.

We have got to grab our comfortable shoes, put on our masks, pack a brown bag dinner and maybe breakfast too, because we’ve got to be willing to stand in line all night if we have to.

Look, we have already sacrificed so much this year. So many of you are already going that extra mile. Even when you’re exhausted, you’re mustering up unimaginable courage to put on those scrubs and give our loved ones a fighting chance. Even when you’re anxious, you’re delivering those packages, stocking those shelves, and doing all that essential work so that all of us can keep moving forward.

Even when it all feels so overwhelming, working parents are somehow piecing it all together without child care. Teachers are getting creative so that our kids can still learn and grow. Our young people are desperately fighting to pursue their dreams.

And when the horrors of systemic racism shook our country and our consciences, millions of Americans of every age, every background rose up to march for each other, crying out for justice and progress.

This is who we still are: compassionate, resilient, decent people whose fortunes are bound up with one another. And it is well past time for our leaders to once again reflect our truth.

So, it is up to us to add our voices and our votes to the course of history, echoing heroes like John Lewis who said, “When you see something that is not right, you must say something. You must do something.” That is the truest form of empathy: not just feeling, but doing; not just for ourselves or our kids, but for everyone, for all our kids.

And if we want to keep the possibility of progress alive in our time, if we want to be able to look our children in the eye after this election, we have got to reassert our place in American history. And we have got to do everything we can to elect my friend, Joe Biden, as the next president of the United States.

Thank you all. God bless.»

Michelle Obama

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alj4890 · 3 years

Note

Hey there. Can you write a story where Liam would be shot instead of drake... Pweety please

I hate it that anyone has to be shot but let's see what I can do with the end of TRR Book 2. (Honestly, I wish it had been the chosen love interest to save Riley just for the drama, LOL). Sorry it took so long for this drabble, nonny. Sickness and all kept interrupting my writing.

*** Trigger Warning: violence, blood, gunshots***

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

And Time Stopped

It had been one of the first balls Liam had ever truly enjoyed. After the hellish tour with Madeleine as his fiancee and discovering that his father was behind nearly destroying his chance to be with Riley, he felt like he could actually enjoy the life of a king.

He smiled warmly at Riley surrounded by their closest friends. He didn't know how he could have made it without each one of them. Those four had given him everything he had ever wanted. They used all their talent, their time, to help him achieve his happily ever after.

They had become his family.

His heart beat faster when Riley blew him a kiss. The plans he had for the two of them now that they were engaged filled him with such excitement. Such contentment. For once, his life was finally all he had hoped it could be.

As he lifted his champagne flute in a toast to the love of his life, his world began to fall apart.

*****************

Chaos erupted in the darkness. Screams rent the air while the sounds of gunshots rang out. When the lights came back on, Liam tried to comprehend what was going on.

His guards were rushing around, trying to make their way to him and his parents.

"Protect Riley!" He ordered.

Ducking from a masked man's attack, Liam's years of self defense kicked in. Muscle memory took over and allowed him to focus on the safety of those around him.

His nobles were trying to escape. Many were knocking others over in their haste while fighting off the attackers. Some were losing their battle.

Riley stood alone a few feet away as if frozen. Somehow during the melee she had become separated from their friends. Her eyes were wide as she saw Liam being attacked. She seemed to shake herself out of her fear and took a few steps forward to try and help him.

Another masked man stepped between them and lifted a pistol.

The world slowed around Liam when he saw who was in the attacker's sights. His guards took over fighting the men that he had been wrestling with. He wrenched free of Bastien's grip and did the only thing he could.

He dove into Riley.

Two shots exploded at the same time. While the couple crashed to the floor, the shooter crumbled in a lifeless heap. Bastien had killed him.

"Liam!" She cried, touching his face. "Are you hurt?"

He breathed through the pain now spreading through his body. His own concern for her was stronger than the agonizing sensation in his back as he lifted up off of her.

"Were you hit?" He asked, eyes scanning her for any possible wound.

"I'm fine." Tears filled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him.

Liam sucked in a painful gasp when her hand brushed his back.

Riley stilled at the warm blood she felt coating her fingers.

"No!" She cried out. "No. No. No."

She scrambled out from under him.

"Bastien!" She screamed when she saw the blood saturating Liam's blue coat.

The guard rushed over and attempted to see where the wound was.

"It's to the right." Liam struggled to say.

The rush of adrenaline that had flooded his body to save his love was gone, leaving him light headed.

He turned to see Riley ripping the bottom half of her gold dress. She balled up the material and pressed it to his back.

Bastien called for an ambulance while she tried to stop the bleeding.

"Riley?" Liam said softly.

She leaned down closer to hear him better.

He hated seeing the tears falling from her lovely eyes.

"You're going to be okay." Her voice trembled. "We'll get you to the hospital and--"

"My love." He tried to smile at her. "All that matters is that you're safe."

She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "I am thanks to you." Her breath hitched as she fought back her panic over his bleeding. "I love you so much, Liam."

"I love you too." His eyes drooped closed.

A deep darkness began to engulf him.

"Please, stay with me." She whimpered. "Please. I can't lose you now that we finally get to be together. Please, live for me."

He wanted to. He wanted to tell her that he would do all he could to live the life he dreamed of. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything that brought her sorrow and pain.

He simply didn't have the strength to reassure her.

Her pleas faded into nothingness as he succumbed to the darkness.

****************

A steady beep was the first sound he heard.

A few voices murmured then quieted.

Liam cracked his eyes open. The hospital room he was in had only one light on. He first noticed Bastien and a few more guards by the door and windows.

He next saw Drake sitting in a chair, bent forward with his head in his hands. Maxwell was nervously pacing. Hana stood by a window looking out at the sun rising.

And then he saw his Riley.

She was still in her torn gold gown. Her elegant up do was mussed and falling form it's pins. Dried tear paths lined her cheeks. Her eyes were swollen from all the crying she must have done.

She had pulled a chair up to his bed and was holding his hand. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles every so often as she watched his heartbeat on the heart monitor.

Her eyes darted to his face when she felt his fingers move to intertwine with hers.

"Liam?" She smiled at seeing his bright blue eyes once more. "Liam!"

Their other friends jerked up when they heard her say his name.

He weakly squeezed her hand. "Hello, my love."

As everyone exclaimed around him, he knew that the individuals in his room would once more help him get through this next trial he was about to face.

And he couldn't be more thankful he had every single one of them.

#liam x riley #choices the royal romance #choices the stories you play #trr liam #trr riley #choices trr

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

#daminette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #This is so bad I hate it and it started out good as well aaaaaaaa

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

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Hi! Can we see Aizawa x reader in a coffee shop!au with the phrase “I want you to be happy…even if its not with me.” ? Love your blog!!

thank you so much! this was a fun request i adore aizawa and coffee so i loved it

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → ❝graveyard shift❞

event: au prompts summary: you own a local coffee shop and when eraserhead shows up in your shop one night you get a crush on the hero. word count: 3.5k+ tags/warnings: fluff, first meetings, confessions, robbery, gun mention, light angst

Owning and working at a coffee shop was something you enjoyed. Yes, it could be annoying at times when dealing with bad customers but the good customers more than made up for it. Your coffee shop was a hot spot for pro heroes. Its location was in the sweet spot between a lot of agencies.

It wasn’t unusual to see Fatgum, Gang Orca, or even Miriko in your shop. You had even had their orders memorized and had them ready by the time they paid which they always appreciated so they could get back to work faster.

There was one hero in particular that had caught your eye. Eraserhead. You kept the coffee shop open pretty late for the various people who needed a pick me up later in the night. College students would often study in the night in your shop. Then there were heroes that patrolled at night that appreciated it.

That’s how you met Eraserhead. You had been covering a late shift for an employee that had a family emergency when he came in. You didn’t believe in love at first sight but you could honestly say you were drawn to him from the second he walked in.

He was tall, dressed in all black with his scarf-like capture weapon around his neck, long black hair, and dark mysterious eyes. You had to stop yourself from staring and act like a normal person. You assumed he was a hero but you had never seen him before.

“Hi, welcome.” You said, the familiar words sounding unsure in your mouth. “What can I get for you?”

“Can I get four shots of espresso on ice, please.” He said. His voice was deep and had a raspy edge to it. You shouldn’t be so pulled in by someone’s voice.

“One of those nights?” You joked as you wrote his order on the side of the cup.

“It feels like it’s always one of those nights, these days.” He said in a tired voice.

“I haven’t seen you before, have you been here before?” You asked as you started his drink.

“Yeah, I started coming here the other week. I’ve been a few times.” He answered. You glanced at him at the corner of your eye making sure he wasn’t annoyed by the conversation but he looked interested.

“You’re a hero?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I go by Eraserhead.” He answered. You hadn’t heard the name before, he must have been an underground hero. There were a few that frequented your shop.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Eraserhead.” You said before giving him your own name.

“How much do I owe you?” He asked.

“It’s in the house tonight.” You said. “I hope your night gets better.” You said with a smile.

“It already has.” He said giving a hint of a smile before he left.

The rest of your night went by fast, you closed up and headed home happy to be in your bed at last. As you laid there thinking of the handsome hero that ended up in your coffee shop you remembered that you had to open the store in the morning. You let out a sigh mourning the sleep you would not get. Turning on your side you tried your best to fall asleep.

Morning came too fast, your alarm a painful sound. You rolled out of bed thankful that you owned a coffee shop and were able to make your own coffee but sad that it wasn’t in your hand yet. You got dressed quickly and made your way to the store. Opening the door you let yourself in and started turning everything on and began preparing yourself some coffee, no doubt the first of many.

Customers filtered in throughout the first hour, it was busy but not overly so at this point in the morning. After the first hour, you had two employees come in.

“I’m so sorry about last night, my sister got sick and no one was home to take care of her and-” The girl who you covered for last night said as she clocked in.

“Don’t worry about it, things come up. It’s okay.” You said waving your hands.

“I feel so bad, you closed last night and you had to open this morning. You must be dead.” She said as she put her apron on.

“That’s the joys of owning your own business. It’s bound to happen. I’ll survive.” You said as you walked to the front of the shop with her. “Besides I met a new hero last night, he was pretty cute. His name was Eraserhead.”

“Oh! Eraserhead, I remember him.” She said. “Wow, do you have a crush on him?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unprofessional to ask your boss about who they’re interested in?” You scolded. She looked at you with a pout on her face. “I’m just kidding, I do have whatever you would consider the adult version of a crush on him.”

“You should ask him out!” She said.

“I think you overestimate how brave I am. Besides, who knows when I’ll see him again.” You said.

Just at that moment, the door opened with a jingle of a bell and you both looked over to welcome the new customer only to see the man from last night. Your eyes widened a bit as your employee looked over at you with a cheeky smile.

“Long time no see.” You said. “I feel like I should be concerned that you’re back so soon. Do you ever sleep?”

“I could say the same about you.” He replied. “I teach at UA, not much time for sleep in between that and hero work. That’s where the caffeine comes in.”

“Always happy to help with that.” You smiled. “Although I don’t recommend too much, it can only help so much before it hurts. There is no alternative to sleep. Not to sound like I’m scolding you.” You realized how overbearing you sounded.

“It’s okay, you’re right.” He said. “I’m always so busy scolding my students I forget to scold myself.”

“Well, you know where I am.” You smirked. You could feel your employee’s eyes on you.

“What can I get for you Eraserhead?” She butted in.

“Four shots of espresso on ice.” He said.

“I’ll have that right out for you.” She smiled before starting the coffee.

“How long have you taught at UA?” You asked.

“Three years.” He answered.

“How do you like it?”

“It’s rewarding at times, frustrating at others.” He said humorously.

“I think I know the feeling.” You said glancing at your employee. She placed the drink on the counter for him. He handed her the money but before she could make the change he stepped away.

“I’ll see you next time.” He said looking at you.

“Looking forward to it. Have a great day!” You smiled at him.

“Wow, you could have a little less shame with your flirting.” She said nudging you.

“I was not flirting.” You replied.

“Oh, you were so flirting.” She teased.

“That’s enough out of you, go wipe a counter or something.” You huffed.

Thankfully for you, Eraserhead became a regular customer. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start working night shifts to see him more. He assured you he did what he could to get sleep in between jobs, you were certain it wasn’t enough.

Some nights he would sit down for a break and you would join him. You loved talking to him, he was smart and had a dry sense of humor that you loved. It always felt good to get a laugh out of him. You denied you were flirting with each other but your employees assured you otherwise.

One night you were closing by yourself, you were short the people and you knew that you would be able to handle the store by yourself so you didn’t close early. It was late, no one was in the store at the tables and you found yourself on your phone waiting for something to do.

The door rang as someone entered and your eyes stayed glued to your phone as you greeted them.

“Welcome, what can I get started for you?” You asked looking up as they stepped up to the counter. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you saw the man standing in front of you with a ski mask on. “Oh,” The word fell out of your mouth.

“Give me the money, now.” His voice was low. You gulped, your body was frozen to your spot standing there. “I said now!”

The sight of the gun in his hand sent ice down your spine as your heartbeat out of its chest.

“I- I- Uh.” Your words stuttered out of you as you looked down at the cash register. Your hands fumbled as you put the code to open it, messing up the code multiple times.

“Hurry up!” He shouted firing the gun at the ceiling. You jumped in fear, trying harder to put the code in as tears ran down your face.

“I’m sorry,” You cried as your hands shook uncontrollably.

Everything happened quickly, the door opened with a chime of a bell and before you knew it the gun clattered to the ground as a familiar scarf wrapped around the man pulling him away.

You collapsed to the ground, your back pressed against the side of the counter as you sobbed into your hands.

“Hey, it’s okay now.” Eraserhead’s voice filled the air. You opened your eyes looking at him, it was odd to see him without his scarf. He kneeled down at your side. “You’re okay now, you’re safe.”

It was embarrassing but you hardly had control of yourself and you needed comfort, you lunged towards him hugging him. To give him the credit he handled it well, standing firm and wrapping his arms around you.

“C’mon,” He said leading you to the back of the store, you pointed him toward your office. He sat you down on the couch, sitting beside you with an arm around you.

Your tears began to slow and the adrenaline faded from your system leaving you even shakier.

“We just have to wait for the cops and once you tell them what happened I’ll take you home, yeah?” He said, rubbing your arm soothingly. You nodded softly.

Thankfully things were said and done with quickly, you let your employees know that they had tomorrow off and the store would be closed and Eraserhead walked you home. As you approached your door the two of you stopped as you unlocked your apartment.

“Thank you, Eraserhead. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Aizawa. Aizawa Shouta.” He said.

“Thank you for saving me, Aizawa.”

“I’m glad I was there on time.” He said softly. “Are you okay, do you need anything before I leave?”

“I couldn’t ask you for anything else, you’ve done so much already.” You said.

Aizawa motioned for your phone, you gave it to him and he quickly put his number in.

“If you need anything at all, just let me know.” He said.

“Thank you.” You said.

“Good night.” He said before turning.

As he walked away you felt a wave of emotion, you had never felt so vulnerable and scared before. Images from tonight flashed through your eyes. Almost on reflex, your hand moved to grab his sleeve causing him to stop. You gulped feeling the shakiness from earlier overcome you.

“P-Please stay.” You stuttered out. He turned to you, his dark eyes so soft on yours.

“Of course.” He said leading you into your apartment. He guided you to your couch, you were thankful for that because your legs nearly gave out as you sat down.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask you to stay. I know you’re a busy hero.” You said as he sat down with you.

“A good hero wouldn’t turn away someone in need.” He said. “Much less a friend in need.”

“T-Thank you.” You said as he put an arm around you, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. You knew tomorrow when you felt better you would be embarrassed by your actions but right now you needed comfort and Aizawa was here for you.

In his arms you were hit by a wave of exhaustion, the day’s events hitting you. You didn’t even realize that you fell asleep. All you knew was you had never felt so safe and comfortable than you did right now in his arms.

It wasn’t shocking that you woke up with a gasp. Your living room was dark, the first light of morning just beginning to light up the city. Images of what had happened replayed in your mind. You realized you weren’t just on your couch, you were on top of someone. That, someone, was Aizawa, who was now half-awake from your commotion.

“I’m sorry.” You said, looking down at him. His arms were still wrapped around your waist.

“S’okay.” He said if you thought his normal voice was enticing his morning voice was on another level. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” You said quietly. He nodded, pulling you into his chest. You hated how normal that action felt. Was there any chance he was interested in you as you were in him? You supposed right now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

“You’re safe now, it’ll take time till you feel normal again but it’s okay to not be okay.” He said. You tightened your grip around his neck, shoving your face into his chest.

“Thank you.” You said, you knew his words came from a place of understanding and that gave you comfort in its own way.

Laying on his chest, the steady rhythm of his breaths and heartbeat calmed you down as you watched the living room light up slowly as the morning went on.

A growl from your stomach interrupted your peace.

“Are you hungry?” You asked. “I can make us breakfast.”

“I don’t want to impose.” He said.

“It’s the least I could do for everything.” You said looking down at him.

It was a nice morning despite what had happened the night before. You made him breakfast, he helped and you chatted while you ate. It turned out he had the day off so you told him he was welcome to stay. That led to you napping together to catch up on the sleep you both need.

After that, you felt a connection to Aizawa. You had already been interested in him but now you felt a closeness to him. If you were brave you’d call them feelings. When he came in you still flirted, not that you would admit it, but even with the playfulness of it, there was a serious undertone. Were you the only one who felt it?

You debated asking him out. Would he feel like you only liked him because he saved you? Or would he just not be interested in general? No doubt a hero like him could have any pick of love interests. Would he be interested in a coffee shop owner?

Maybe it would be better to leave things as they were. Or at least that’s what you thought until one fateful day.

Aizawa had finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt. He had been interested in you for a long time but the night of the robbery had been a turning point. He realized he didn’t want to idly flirt with you, as much as he enjoyed all of your interactions together.

Holding you in his arms was something he was eager to feel again. A part of him felt bad as if he was taking advantage of you. He knew that you needed comfort, someone to make you feel safe and he was more than happy to be that person. No, he had to be that person for you. The thought of it being anyone else broke his heart.

He had mulled it over in the passing weeks. Your flirting felt heavy with the feelings he carried for you. A part of him wondered if you felt the change too. He finally reasoned that he should tell you. Well, truthfully Present Mic had been the one to convince him after he explained the situation.

Entering your coffee shop he was more nervous than he had been in a long time. His eyes moved to the counter looking for you but he didn’t find you there. Maybe you had taken off the morning. He was ready to push his plans to another time when he caught sight of you sitting down at a table but you weren’t alone like you were at times on your breaks. No, you were there with Best Jeanist. He couldn’t lie about the twinge of jealously that stirred in his chest but when he saw you laugh he couldn’t hold it back.

Did you have a boyfriend this whole time? Or were you this close with all the heroes that visited your store?

Aizawa caught your gaze before turning and leaving.

Catching Aizawa’s gaze you knew something was wrong as he turned and walked out the door. You looked at Best Jeanist.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You said.

“No problem, I need to get to work anyways.” He said waving his hand.

“Thank you, we can continue this conversation another time.” You said as you headed towards the door.

“Of course.” He said.

You knew you had to be quick to catch Aizawa. There was something about the look in his eyes, it looked like heartbreak. Maybe that was presumptuous. Whatever it was you just knew you needed to catch him. You spotted him turning to corner and you rushed to follow him. He turned into an alleyway but you were quick enough to catch up grabbing him by his sleeve, stopping him.

“Aizawa, where are you going?” You asked, concern melting through your words. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He said pulling his sleeve free from your grasp. You couldn’t help the hurt that blossomed in your chest. You had never seen him so dismissive.

“Aizawa, you don’t sound okay.” You said. “Please, you can talk to me. You were there for me, I can be there for you.”

Aizawa let out a sigh, turning to face you fully. He ran his hand across his face, you could tell he was conflicted. After a tense moment, he finally spoke.

“To be completely honest with you I wanted to tell you that I had feelings for you. I didn’t realize that you had a boyfriend already and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so I just left.” His words were rushed, uncharacteristic for him. "I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me. I would never want to interrupt your relationship."

“A boyfriend?” You questioned. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence but you having a boyfriend was the first thing that jumped into your attention.

“Yeah, Jeanist. I didn’t know you were dating.” He said.

“Oh?” You said. “Oh! He’s not my boyfriend, I just asked him for his opinion on the new uniforms I was going to get for the shop. Not that he was any help he just said it needed more denim.”

“Oh,” Aizawa said looking taken off guard.

“I like you too, Aizawa.” You replied taking advantage of his silence while he processed everything. “Like a lot. Maybe even more than just like.”

“Oh.” He repeated looking at you so innocently with those soft eyes. You could feel the embarrassment of his jumping to conclusions.

“I wanted to tell you but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way but I guess we’re both on the same page.” You said looking up at him.

The two of you stood there for a moment.

“An alleyway is a very romantic location for a love confession.” You joked.

Aizawa let out an unexpected laugh. He reached out grabbing your wrist pulling you towards him. He looked down at you, inches away from your face. Your gaze flickered down to his lips back up to his dark eyes. He got the hint leaning in to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you and holding you to him.

It was easy to get taken away in the passionate kiss but you had to come back for air. You let out a laugh as you pressed your forehead against his, smiling big.

“For such a logical man you really thought I was dating Jeanist after I’ve been flirting with you for months.” You teased.

“What can I say, I guess you make me illogical.” He teased, pulling you closer. You laughed, hiding your face in his chest. His hand brushed against your chin pulling your gaze back to him. “Let me take you out tonight, show you how I feel properly. Not in an alley.”

You smiled up at him.

“That sounds good to me.” You said before going in for another kiss.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #magicxecustos

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julescarstairs · 2 years

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If Aught But Death: Chapter 5

LOS ANGELES — FOUR DAYS LATER

One of these days Julian knew he was going to get caught making a swift exit from the Institute in the dead of night. It was inevitable: one day, eventually, one of his siblings would stir. He would drop something, take the stairs a little too loudly, jangle the keys when he picked them up — and one of them would wake up, and pursue him. Find out why he’s awake, where he was going. Julian had expected that they would do that. He would have been concerned if they didn’t; he, for one, would have been up at the sound of footsteps on marble.

But he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. It had been less than only a week since he’d started working with Eris. He had gotten down the stairs and stood in the foyer, atop the image of the Angel rising from Lake Lyn — donning the cup and the sword — ingrained in the marble beneath his feet, when he heard shuffling on the upstairs landing. He craned his neck to see who it was.

“Julian,” it was Helen, her hair bedstirred and her eyes sleepy. “What are you doing?”

Julian waited a moment, two moments, before answering. “I’m going down to the beach.”

The lie came off his tongue easily enough, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had lied to his family a number of times in the past, about who ran the Institute, about the whole second life he had outside of being their brother. But that had been to protect them. It seemed harder to lie about something that you knew was wrong. The only good secrets were the harmless ones, after all, Julian supposed, and the secret he kept in this moment, as he stared up at his older sister with haunted eyes, was not a harmless one. Not in the slightest.

There was nothing about any of this that was harmless. Julian walked a tightrope over fire, he knew. He had danced with Death only days ago.

“In gear?” Helen, despite being half-awake, sounded dubious.

Julian looked down at himself, at the gear jacket and the combat boots— and then shot Helen a winning smile. “It’s cold. And windy.”

Helen looked down at Julian with an expression that made his heart stir uncomfortably in his chest. It was a look he was familiar with from the depths of his childhood, from when he had been a devilish child who had a penchant for causing chaos. The little boy who would answer to Helen if not his parents when he was doing something wrong. Indeed, as Helen came down the stairs to stand before him now, he knew he recognised that expression from years ago, and he hated it.

Helen didn’t believe him.

“You must realise how this looks,” she simply said, pushing her hands through her hair and clearing it from her face. “After everything in Idris…” Helen shook her head as her voice died in her throat. She gripped the sleeve of Julian’s jacket as if it would help him see reason. “You barely survived, Julian. You were out for days. Zara died because of what she had ingested. They only let us come home so you could recover in a comfortable space.”

Julian wished he could have consoled Helen by saying he wouldn’t have let himself die anyway, but knew it wouldn’t do wonders for his situation. “Helen,” he said quietly, “I just need out for a while, okay? I’ve been cooped up in bed sick for days. I’m not going to be doing anything that will endanger me. I’m only in gear in case I come across demons. It’s not unlikely at this hour.”

Helen flushed. “Maybe, but we don’t know if there are others who have followed us back home. People who want you dead,” she poked a finger at him, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not safe to be out on your own right now.”

It was apparent that Helen thought he was geared up but unarmed. Julian asked, “So you want me to spend the rest of my life hiding inside because someone’s out to get me?”

“I didn’t say that—“

“That’s what it sounds like,” Julian said, and knew he had struck something inside Helen, as her expression softened from its tight mask. He recalled, faintly, a similar encounter between himself and Mark only weeks in advance. Will you be my jailer, brother? The question had made Julian reel back as if struck.

He understood Mark’s desire to decide his own fate, now, more than ever.

“Helen,” Julian pleaded, taking her hands, “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll be back before dawn.” I always am. “And I’ll keep you updated on my whereabouts.”

This seemed to appease Helen somewhat. She rocked back on her heels, squeezing his hands. Though her eyes still shone with concern, her expression seemed to relax a little. “On the hour, Julian,” she gestured to the pocket of his jacket, where his phone was located, “I’ll wait up until you get home.”

So she wouldn’t take his word for it. Her apparent lack of trust in him stung a little, but Julian knew it was really more concern than suspicion that he wouldn’t stay true to his word. “Alright,” Julian said, and gave his sister a brief hug, “On the hour, starting now.”

“Good.” Helen squeezed him, before letting him go. She watched Julian walk to the front doors of the Institute, watched him pick up the keys to the institute’s car, watched him pull the door open and shield his face with his hand against the gust of Autumnal wind that blew in at him. “Julian,” she called with faint urgency as he began to slip out the door.

He turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

Julian used all the energy he could to smile, albeit weakly. It hurt to force a smile, to Helen. “When aren’t I?”

***

“Ever considered a career playing poker?”

“What?” Eris watched Julian peer over his shoulder at her as he closed the door to her office behind him. His blue eyes caught the light in such a manner that made her chest tighten in a way Eris didn’t like. She fisted a hand under her chin, digging her nails in until the sharp bite of flesh breaking cleared her mind.

Julian Blackthorn was doing things to her, Eris knew, that she was unfamiliar with. Things she didn’t like. The sight of him dug memories from the darkest depths of her heart. Memories she had spent centuries trying to quieten in her mind, memories she had sought so hard to forget. Memories of someone who she had loved more than herself. Of someone she had tried to bring back again and again, only to fail each time.

And yet, the pain of those memories was a pain she welcomed. It reminded her that she was alive. He made her feel alive.

“You always look so serious, is all,” Eris leant back in her chair, rubbing her palm against the black jeans. She then tucked one knee under herself. “I can never really tell if you’re just being conserved or if you’re dying inside and I don’t know. You should smile more. We’re here for a good cause, you know.”

At that, Julian gave her the faintest of a smile, a curl of the lip that was only slight, but very meaningful. It looked as though he would have given more, but was too tired to put much more effort in. “I do know, and I’m grateful that you chose to help me.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re certainly the most interesting client I’ve had in the last hundred years or so,” it was an understatement, but Eris ploughed on before he could ask the question she knew was coming next: why did you? “Are you alright, Julian? You seem weary. And— well, you hadn’t contacted me for a week before now. I was worried that something had gone wrong.” That you’d gotten hurt. That you’d been punished by your authority for a crime I had asked you to commit. One I could have easily done on my own. I may be old but I’m not heartless.

Julian sat back in his seat, and his smile turned wry. He passed a hand over his face. “There was a… temporary setback. All a part of my plan, of course, but I didn’t have much time to call you during that time.”

“Temporary setback?” Eris prayed to whatever Gods that were out there that her suspicions weren’t truth.

“I poisoned Zara. She’s dead,” Julian seemed surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth. Bless him, Eris thought. She watched his hand shake slightly in his lap. “But I also poisoned myself. On purpose. The idea was to draw the suspicion away from me and my family. I had made sure the dosage I took wasn’t lethal, but impactful enough to have an effect.”

Eris was stunned into a shocked silence. Her stomach dropped about twenty feet. She feared that the people playing blackjack downstairs would see it on the table. No, it wasn’t shock: it was guilt. She swallowed the bitter tang in her throat that rose at the thought of what would have happened if he had died. What kind of horrific flashbacks that would stimulate for her. When Eris didn’t speak for a few moments more, Julian sat forward again. “In hindsight, I recognise it was reckless and— and I don’t plan on doing it again. I shouldn’t have to, right?”

He had the hide to smile crookedly at her. And in spite of her own apparent guilt, she was grateful he was trying to smile more, for her. She hadn’t expected her request be received with such ease. The question, she supposed, was whether the smiles were genuine or not.

The question also made Eris more aware of the presence lingering on the other side of the screen behind her, tuning in on their conversation.

“Never again. I promise, I won’t have you endanger yourself like that again,” Eris said, and with an intensity that surprised her— and Julian too, it seemed. He perked a bit in his seat. Eris sat forward, put her hands palm up on the desk in front of her. “How are you feeling, then?”

“I’m fine, now,” he said slowly, his eyes flicking slightly left and right as he looked at one of Eris’ eyes, and then the other. He was trying to read her. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t talking about physically. Zara died at your hands. It’s never easy to admit that.”

Julian looked at her hands, palm up on the table. He seemed to be thinking deeply about his answer, really contemplating his answer. Reflecting, Eris assumed. Then, he said, “I think… I feel more guilty about seeing my family upset because of what I done to myself than what happened to Zara.” He leant forward, then, his elbows on his knees. This close, Eris could see the different hues of blue and green illuminated by her desk lamp. It reminded her of late nights on grassy hills in France, memories of conversations long gone by. “Zara killed Emma, and faced no consequences for it. Because it was part of a battle. She killed an innocent Nephilim. As long as Zara lived, there was no way the Clave could reconstruct. Because justice wasn’t served. Now it has been. We can all heal.”

Then, without invitation, Julian placed something in Eris’s open palm. It was a sudden gesture that made Eris almost slap the boy. Nobody touched Eris Flake without her permission. But then she realised what it was. It was a crystal, shaped almost like a dodecahedron. It was warm in her fingers, and seemed lit from within. It was thrumming with a magic Eris knew well enough from all of her other acts of necromancy: life energy.

Eris let out a surprised laugh, but it sounded choked. “You— you were choking on poison and still managed to collect Zara’s life energy?”

Julian nodded. He seemed reluctant to elaborate. Eris understood that. Better not to dwell on one’s more unflattering moments. “I done what I had to,” he said, after a moment’s silence. There seemed to be more on his mind than he was speaking. It made the floor tilt under Eris’ chair. She could practically see the apprehension in his eyes, the gears ticking in his mind as he went through whether to speak his mind or not. The silence stretched out long enough to make the hairs on Eris’s arms rise.

Eris didn’t know whether she wanted him to speak his mind or not, either; he’d sprung that many surprises on her in one sitting that she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for what he had next. Talk about unpredictable. Even so, she spoke. “Penny for your thoughts?”

More deliberation. Julian Blackthorn was going to string out her patience until it was as thin as the threads that made up her shoelace with his long pauses of thought. She almost disregarded him, told him not to worry about it.

But then he spoke, and it was like a rope tying everything together snapped in her mind.

“Something happened, whilst I was asleep, in Idris. Someone— someone named Cesar came to see me? He said he loved you, and missed you, and he’d tried to come to you — whatever he meant by that — but something was stopping him…” Julian was staring at her, but everything was blurry before Eris now. Her ears were roaring with the sound of fire, of screams, of begs for mercy. Flames licking at her skin as she dove into them. She could see red behind her eyelids. Her eyes stung. And the boy sitting in front of her was no longer Julian Blackthorn. “Eris?” He asked, “Who is Cesar? Is he why—“

“I need you to leave, Julian,” Eris got to her feet, shaking her head against the images rising up in her mind. She stared past him, at the door. She blinked; a lone tear trickled down her cheek. “It would be best if I were alone.”

“Eris, I…” the faint concern in Julian’s voice only made things worse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m only a messenger.”

“I appreciate what you did, Julian,” she ground out between her teeth. He needed to leave before Eris said or did something he didn’t need to see. “But this meeting is over. I’ll use the life energy to give Emma independence within her life form.”

“You— you also asked for items that Emma held dear,” Julian said quietly, and though Eris couldn’t bring herself to look at him out of fear of seeing someone that would only cause her more pain. She heard him set another object, larger, on the desk before her. In her periphery, Eris recognised it as a sword, golden, with writing she couldn’t make out inscribed in its hilt. “Cortana. It’s a family heirloom. When you do raise Emma… it’ll be the first thing she requests.”

Eris was distantly aware of a faint rustling sound behind the screen, and prayed to whatever deity there was high above that Julian didn’t hear it. “Yes. Thank you. Now please…” Eris hated the sound of her own voice right now. She sounded so pathetic, so weak. Her words barely had any force. “Please leave. And— and who Cesar is matters not to you. It’s actually none of your business.” She hoped the words were enough to make him leave. She added, “I’ll open a portal downstairs, Julius. Go, now.”

But Julian was stubborn, the prick. Just like Cesar, he wouldn’t leave her whilst she was in a state. She couldn’t not look at him anymore. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Deep down, the better part of her knew she couldn’t blame Julian for his uncanny resemblance. She needed to look at him, to get the message through to him. “I know,” she said, meeting his gaze. If she didn’t keep her focus on his face, Eris could almost see the edges of his hair turning white. “I know you want to help me, but nothing will help me more than if you leave. I need to be alone.”

Julian nodded slowly, understanding. He stepped back slightly, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. She didn’t even remember him getting up. “When should I come back?”

“When I tell you that you can.”

Eris looked away from him then, unable to bear the eye contact any longer. She was faintly aware of him crossing the room, lingering at the door for a long moment, before the door swung shut behind him with a faint click.

Eris’s knees gave out from beneath her as a loud sob expelled itself from her chest. A sob she had held onto for not just minutes but for years; a sob that threatened to rack her every time the thought of Cesar rose up in her mind. The tears, large and salty and hot, were pouring from her eyes and onto her hands as she cried. She sobbed so hard that it hurt. Her chest burnt. She reached for the image of Cesar in her mind, an image that she had clung to for over 362 years. Of Cesar smiling at her over a book he was reading, his eyes blue and ever changing in their hues, of his hair — white just like hers — tousled lightly by the late afternoon breeze. And she cried out to him, futilely, cried out to the heavens to let him come to her just once. Why did the universe have to be so cruel?

Eris was so caught up in her own grief, her own madness, her own self-loathing, that she hadn’t noticed Emma crawling across the floor to her until her arms wrapped around her and squeezed tight. The words don’t touch me! rose up in Eris’s throat, but she couldn’t get them out. What was wrong with her? She hated physical contact when it wasn’t on her terms, and yet Emma’s firm embrace was a comfort to her racing mind. She let herself lean against the other girl, let herself bury her face in her shoulder— just this once, she could allow herself to fall apart.

Then there would be no more.

“Don’t close yourself off to your feelings, Eris,” Emma whispered in her ear, and Eris’s hand fisted in her shirt. “I know it’s hard, especially with your line of work. You think you have to be strong for everyone else. But you don’t. Julian could tell you that from experience.”

“He wouldn’t understand why I’m so upset with him. He can’t understand. It’s been— it’s been years.”

“Julian isn’t unreasonable,” Emma said. “I think if you just explained everything, he would understand.”

Words tumbled from Eris’s mouth then, words she hadn’t spoken to anyone for years. Like they were part of an ancient scripture that was forbidden to be read. They were words that Eris had forbid herself to speak, out of fear of things like this happening. The words were the story of her past: the story of Cesar, and the story of Eris, the story that justified the odd fear that overcame Eris at the thought of her time with Julian (and Emma) being over.

When Eris concluded her story, Emma’s eyes were shining as she looked down at her.

“Eris…” she whispered, “Eris, you need to tell Julian. He can’t not know this. It will change everything.”

Eris sniffled, was silent a long time, before she simply murmured into the dark space between them:

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Tagslist:

@clockworkbee (DM me if you want to be notified whenever I post a new part <3)

#the dark artifices #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #blackstairs #the shadowhunter chronicles #mark blackthorn #cristina rosales #ty blackthorn #tavvy blackthorn #thedarkartifices #alternate universe #au #fanfiction

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daringyounggrayson · 2 years

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I posted 1,626 times in 2021

309 posts created (19%)

1317 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.3 posts.

I added 587 tags in 2021

#asks - 189 posts

#elizabeth talks - 59 posts

#anon - 55 posts

#dick grayson - 45 posts

#batman - 44 posts

#elizabeth writes - 43 posts

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#fic rec - 35 posts

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#me at 2-4 am: i should just give up sleep. it's holding me back. a wasted 9 hours that could be spent exercising reading writing and working

My Top Posts in 2021

Could you do 25 or 30 for Bruce and Dick? I’d really like for you to make Bruce say those words to his son!

I think we would all like to see that! oh, and for this one, I’m mixing things up: Bruce took Dick in as his ward but never went on to adopt him.

25: “You know I love you, right?”

30: “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

AO3

"Mr. Wayne!” a photographer calls, waving his arm toward their small group as they try to make their way inside. “A picture of you and your sons, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Sure!”

On cue, the four of them turn toward the camera with easy smiles.

“Oh, sorry sir.” The photographer directs this at Dick. “Could I just get his sons for this shot?”

Dick doesn’t blame the reporter, honestly. He was probably assigned to get pictures of the Waynes, and when you google the Waynes, Dick’s name doesn’t pop up—at least, not under family. And it makes sense; he was never adopted, so he’s legally not part of the Wayne family. Dick’s relation is just a small, unimportant detail. And to outsiders, especially people outside of Gotham or people who simply don’t keep up with Wayne Family News, Dick looks like more of a family friend, if anything.

It’s an honest mistake, and Dick doesn’t take it personally. Unfortunately, that doesn't make it any less awkward.

184 notes • Posted 2021-02-03 13:30:52 GMT

whumptober day 10: hospital + ice chips (AO3)

Roy is reading Lian her bedtime story when he hears a knock on her door.

“Yeah?” Roy calls. Normally, he might be annoyed at the interruption, but he knows for a fact that the only other person in the Tower right now is Dick, who’s currently recovering from a GSW and the surgery fixing it required.

Dread pools in Roy’s stomach, knowing that there’s exactly one reason Dick would seek him out during Lian’s bedtime routine right now, and it’s not boredom.

The doorknob turns, and then there’s Dick—he’s pale and clammy and hunched forward slightly like he can’t stay upright, one hand pressed against his chest. He takes an audible breath, then uses the air to ask, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

197 notes • Posted 2021-10-11 01:56:20 GMT

A batfam TV show- in every episode, Damian is in the background taking care of some new animal. It starts off as normal with Ace and Alfred the cat; then, it progressively gets more weird with Batcow and Goliath. The animals aren't explained at all.

the content we need, I love it 😂

Damian: *walks in with Goliath on a leash and a smoothie*

Tim: um whatcha got there?

Damian: a smoothie. Pennyworth made it.

Tim, not even glancing at Goliath: oh nice, is there more in the kitchen?

209 notes • Posted 2021-06-10 00:16:39 GMT

me @ everyone laughing about Wally's pet turtle being made interim leader at the end of sick day: that turtle would make a great leader! just hear me out

he might be a little intimidated by all of the responsibility at first, sure, but he's pretty go with the flow, so he'd adapt quickly

plus, he's a great listener, which is a good quality for a leader to have!

and finally, I made him a domino mask, so he's all set

237 notes • Posted 2021-10-09 23:41:55 GMT

whumptober day 1: "You have to let go." (AO3)

Dick hasn’t clung to Bruce like this since he was twelve years old. Bruce can’t remember the last time it happened, not specifically, but he wonders if it had been as horrific as this moment is.

“Dick, shh, you’re alright,” Bruce says, holding Dick tightly and running his fingers through the boy’s hair. He’s in the back of the Batmobile with Dick, who has enough fear toxin running through his system to take down an elephant and a GSW to his knee that Bruce doesn’t think he’s really feeling. Bruce hadn’t had the heart to leave him, let alone the willpower to peel Dick off of him and restrain him, so he’s letting the car run on autopilot. “Deep breaths, chum.”

“They’re gonna kill us, they’re gonna kill us,” Dick says into Bruce’s collar bone.

“Who’s going to kill us?”

Dick chokes on a sob but doesn’t name anyone. “We’re gonna die,” he insists, shoulders shaking.

“We’re fine. No one’s dying tonight.”

284 notes • Posted 2021-10-02 02:21:02 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #love that the turtle post is my second most popular post of the year lmao #(also why didn't tumblr cut off some of the longer posts? like i had to delete portions of the fic posts bc they were just way too long)#elizabeth talks #long post

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 40

First

~~~

Marinette didn’t know when exactly she ended up living at Wayne Manor full time, all that she knew was that it happened. Eventually, staying over to work with Tim, to spar with Damian, to talk to Jason and Dick, morphed into her never really going home. After all, it was always too late, or the bed was too soft to get up, or there was a dog asleep in her lap how dare you suggest she move.

But her routine didn’t change much at all. Their coffee was returned to them, so Tim and Marinette spent basically all day binge-drinking and working (with mandated breaks enforced by Jason and Dick). At night, well…

“Another boys night?” She said innocently, barely even looking up from what must have been the millionth flower she had embroidered.

Jason shrugged. “Sorry, Mari, you just wouldn’t want to come.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly, how had boys night been the best thing they could come up with? They’d been doing this for years. How did they even have secret identities at this point? Still, she nodded and smiled. “Sounds great. Have fun.”

“Try and get some sleep!” Called Dick over his shoulder.

“I won’t!” She yelled back, then went back to work. After a few minutes she stood up and brushed herself off. “Tikki, spots on.”

She grinned when she saw her outfit was finally back to normal. She’d kept the leather jacket, boots, and fighting gloves to hide the fact that she’d been weakened before, but now she’d added some tiny features to complete the look. Long, red ribbons tied her hair into her trademark ponytails, and she’d given herself a utility belt to match the rest of the family (also to hold snacks).

She hopped out the window and then made a large loop around the city to get to her and Damian’s meeting spot.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. “Man, why’d you have to go for the utility belt first? I owe Bats one hour of sleep,” she whined.

He huffed softly. “Shut up! It’s small and easy to manage!”

She shook her head exasperatedly and pulled a bag of chips from one of her many pockets. “Mhmm.”

“You can’t judge me! You’re the one with streamers following behind you! That’s terrible for battle!”

“But great for aesthetic,” she said, grinning. “But you’re actually wrong. Pull on one.”

He gave her an incredulous look but did reach out to pull on one of the four trails of ribbon. It crumbled in his hand and, after a few moments, began to regenerate itself. “Uh….”

“Yep! It’s essentially streamers but even easier to break. I’m better at fashion than you, Kit.”

He sent her a glare. “Whatever. Let’s get on with patrols.”

‘Patrols’ was quickly derailed when they found a cute stray cat and started chasing it. Bruce would probably let Marinette have a pet if she asked, and it was so cute. She was about two seconds away from catching it when her receiver sprung to life.

She pouted and skid to a stop, bring a hand up to turn it on.

“Ladybug, you should come see this,” said Red Hood.

“Fine, location?”

He gave it to her and she turned off her comm.

“I have to go. Catch him for me?”

“Only if you agree to call him BatCat.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll agree to consider it.”

Damian grinned at her and disappeared in search of the cat.

After a bit she managed to find her way to where Red Hood sat on a rooftop. “Hey,” she said casually, dropping down next to him.

“Mari,” he greeted, reaching out to poke her cheek.

“So, is there actually something or did you just want to see me?” She teased, smiling.

He didn’t smile back, nodding to a billboard nearby.

Her eyes found their way to it and she cringed. It had been completely defaced, an uneven coating of black spray-paint making whatever it was originally advertising worthless, the words ‘Come home NightMare <3’ where displayed proudly across it in an acidic green.

She balled her fists. She didn’t want to go back yet, but the Wayne Gala was only a week and a half away at this point. They’d obviously need her there to go over the plan.

The therapy sessions were helping, but the idea of getting back in that suit again… even seeing Kaalki made her feel a little sick to her stomach.

She steeled herself. “Right, I’ll go tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to, y’know.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Technically, he was right. She could technically just opt not to go and they could hope that the security the Waynes had put in place would be enough. But, on a far more real level, he couldn’t be more wrong. She knew that they were getting in no matter how many people they had to fight against them because, ultimately, Batman wouldn’t have them killed and the Rogues had no such reservations.

Marinette pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

She sat on the billboard, swinging her legs back and forth as she rested her head back against the paint. This was fine, she told herself. She wasn’t going to be killing anyone anymore. All the Rogues knew she wouldn’t, if the fact that they’d allowed her to disappear for weeks was any indication.

She wasn’t supposed to kill anyone last time, a pessimistic voice said.

She was glad to see the familiar uniforms below and hopped down, waving at them. “Hey, boys, been a while!”

They didn’t return her smile. She felt a needle prick her neck and next thing she knew she was in a warehouse.

Harley leaned into view, her blue eyes scrutinizing her. “Hey, darlin’, how you feeling?”

“Could be better,” Marinette mumbled.

She felt Harley and Ivy pull her into a hug and numbly returned it, closing her eyes. It only lasted for a few seconds, though, before Harley was quiet literally pulled away. Poison Ivy quickly scampered off into the corner.

She looked up to see Joker and cringed internally. She’d been hoping to never see him again, but she supposed she never had been lucky.

“Hello,” she said carefully, giving a weak grin.

“Hi!” He said, giving a wave and of course he was the one to return her smile. “We have some work to do.”

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. “We?”

“Yup! Us three are going to Wayne Manor!”

She frowned confusedly and glanced around at everyone else. She couldn’t gauge anything from their faces, but Harley didn’t seem upset so she hoped this meant that she wasn’t about to be killed. She nodded hesitantly.

“Right. I’ll have to get inside the building and find a room that won’t change.”

Joker nodded and offered her a hand up. “You know where Wayne Manor is?”

She stared at his hand and swallowed thickly before taking it. She winced when she realized how warm it was. She’d been expecting something cold and clammy, like a corpse, but this was somehow worse. Knowing he was alive and just like that made her stomach turn.

She opened a portal to outside Wayne Manor.

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to get past the cameras.”

“Like this,” he chirped, pointing his gun at the nearest one and shooting it out.

Marinette clenched her fists. “Yeah, that’s one way of doing it,” she mumbled. She opened a portal to get inside the fence and cringed as another gunshot rang out. He was shooting out every camera, which was a good thing from a ‘breaking in’ standpoint but bad from a ‘protecting the Waynes’ standpoint.

They slipped through the house, undisturbed. Of course it was undisturbed, there was no one here --.

Except there was. And she looked right into the face of Tim.

Her eyes widened and she looked at Joker and Harley, hoping against hope that they would somehow miss him. He was short, this could work –.

But she never was lucky. And Joker had his gun out.

She jumped in front of Tim, pushing him to hide behind her.

Wow, she really wished she could stop having guns pointed at her. It really hadn’t gone well for her since she’d come to Gotham. Last time Robin had been shot, the time before that she’d been.

She wasn’t anxious to see what would happen if she got shot this time, she had no clue how Joker bullets would work with her costume. Would she not be affected? She hoped so, but what would happen if she was? This was a chemical thing, not just the usual brute force. Would the suit be useless against it? Would it keep her alive, choking on her own blood until the chemicals were out of her system? Which would be worse?

And she knew he would shoot her.

Because, ultimately, she was expendable. All the Rogues were to Joker. Sure, it would be a pain to plan around it, but they could always mow down security guards and get inside that way.

She just needed to reason with him. Would he listen to reason? She hoped so.

She felt hands grip the back of her dress and looked back at Tim. He was definitely playing up whatever fear he had, because he looked terrified. Good, at least they would never expect him to be a vigilante.

Not that it would matter if Joker shot them.

“What’s wrong, NightMare? You look like you’ve just had a bad dream.”

She resisted the urge to gag. She’d heard of how bad his jokes were, but really? He was worse than Chat Noir and – WAIT DON’T LOAD THE BARREL LIKE THAT.

She swallowed thickly, a hand reaching back to make sure Tim didn’t try and do something stupid like push her out of the way.

“Joker, we can’t shoot him,” she tried.

“I told you she would be a liability, Harls,” Joker said. “She just doesn’t have the balls to kill people.”

Harley winced beside him, her eyes falling to the floor.

“But it’s not even that!” She said. Except it was. But she could work around it. Reason. She needed a reason. “Listen to me! If we kill him then the Gala probably wouldn’t happen. Bruce loves his kids, right? If he ended up dead, then he would probably cancel. We can’t kill him!”

Joker stared her down. He wasn’t smiling behind (the mask? his face?) anymore, his lips set in a grim line. This was almost worse. She almost missed the smiling, at least then she had an idea of what was going through his head.

And then he lowered his gun.

She let herself relax a little. They continued through the house with Tim at their side. She made sure to stand between him and the Rogues. Just in case.

After she had pretended to memorize every room in the house (because, really, she knew most of it by heart thanks to the prank war), she opened a portal for them.

Joker stepped through and Harley stopped her before she could follow. “Puddin’, we’re just going to have a little chat, okay?”

“Fine!”

Marinette tensed. The portal closed and they were cast into silence. She hadn’t made it too obvious she was a hero, right? After all, it could just be brushed off as her hating the idea of killing…

Right?

Harley waved Tim off and she glanced back at him. He was still holding onto the sleeve of her dress. She gave him a small smile. “Hey, it’s fine. Go back to work, alright?”

He gave her a slightly skeptical look, but then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

She watched him leave and then turned to Harley. Was she suspicious? Did Marinette give anything away accidentally? Was this it?

“So, how do you know Tim?”

Marinette tensed. “I’m sorry?”

“You know him. How?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. What could she say? She couldn’t call him her friend, that would make it to obvious who she was. But she couldn’t act like she didn’t know him at all, that would make Harley suspicious…

“I guess I could call it…” She took a deep breath to steel herself. Her face reddened. God, he was going to hear this. “A celebrity crush?”

Harley squealed. “That’s so cute! Oh, and you saved his life? C’mon! He owes you a date!”

Damn it, Joker should have shot her. It would have been less excruciating than this. She buried her face in her hands. “I’d prefer… not doing that.”

The woman wasn’t listening, though. “Oh, you two would be so cute together! Your kids would be --!” Marinette decided that she was not going to pay attention to this, glaring at the ground as they walked through the mansion.

She was never going to live this down.

~~~

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE THERE WAS A HURRICANE

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #tim drake #satisfied #maribat

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raph-and-spike · 4 years

Text

Jealous (Part 1) - Leo x fem!reader

request? yes/no

“You have no idea how happy i am to find a 2k12 blog! These boys deserve much more love. If it is ok, can I have reader who has a huge crush on Leo and feels jealous everytime he interacts with Karai because she can see the way he look at her? I always wondered how having a crush on blue boy would work out since he seems so much into Karai.”

a/n: Y’all really have a thing for the leader in blue, huh? ;) I got suuuuper carried away with this, sorry it’s so long!

warnings: Angst :/

Steam had been practically coming out of your ears.

You, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph were walking into Shredder’s chemical lab building, you slightly more angry than the other three (maybe besides Raph, of course).

It started when Karai had taken over Shredder’s lair with her new witchy sidekick, making it their mission to take down the man that had lied to the kunoichi her entire life. She had been betrayed and manipulated for years, and the man covered in blades was going to pay.

You watched Leo’s eyes fill with hope as the teenager had explained her mission, hoping that she would join him and his brothers as a team. But alas, Karai wanted not only revenge, but chaos while she did so. Splinter knew this wouldn’t be a good idea, he had practically begged his daughter not to go through with it, but she brushed her true father off; she was going to end Shredder no matter what she had to do.

As you crossed your arms, watching as she exited the lair, you furrowed your eyebrows, watching the blue-masked leader follow her with his eyes. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips.

“I’m going home,” you growled. “I need some sleep.”

Mikey frowned. “Hey! I thought we were going to watch Chris Bradford together!”

You looked at him sadly. “Maybe tomorrow, Mikey. I’m sorry.”

You had to go home, and once you made it to your bedroom, you were screaming into your pillow. Why did Karai have to pour all of her problems onto the team? Why couldn’t she just be the daughter that Splinter had been missing all along? Why did Leo care so much about her?

These were all questions that made you sick to your stomach, causing you to toss and turn the entire night. You went to school the next day, exhausted, and you could barely concentrate in any of your classes. After your last class, you nearly bolted out of the school; you needed a distraction. Walking to the familiar alleyway manhole, you climbed in, following the path your legs had remembered by now until the lair came into view.

“Turtles!” you called, tossing your backpack to the couch. “Someone spar with me, now.”

Mikey turned his head, wide-eyed at your demanding voice. “I think Leo’s in the dojo already.”

You nodded, walking into the dojo to see Leo stretching.

“Hey,” you greeted, “wanna spar?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

You grabbed your weaponry whilst he got his katanas ready.

“You sure you don't want to use the cardboard weapons instead?” he asked seriously. “It might be hard to go easy on you with my actual katanas.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle it, honor boy,” you taunted with a grin.

He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he loved it when you called him that. The way you said it made it so personal; it was his nickname, no one else’s. And despite the negative connotation Raph had given it, a man of honor was exactly what he strived to be, and it made his stomach erupt in butterflies when you recognized that.

You both circled the room, weapons at the ready.

He cocked an eyebrow, “you sure about that, Y/n?”

You grinned. “Give me your best shot.”

And with that, you began fighting. The sounds of blades slashing against each other and defensive grunts filled the room. You used the anger you’d been feeling, the jealousy that had filled you to the brim, to assist your adrenaline high, making you fight better than ever. He noticed your kicks and punches were stronger, wondering what was going on with you.

“Y/n, you know we’re just sparring, right?” he yelled as he guarded your throws. “I’m starting to think you should have chosen Raph to train with instead!”

You rolled your eyes, yelping as he caught you off guard and pinned you to the ground. Your chest heaved up and down, out of breath as your senses came back. You blushed at his figure on top of you, rolling out of his grasp that had loosened. Still on the floor, the two of you sat, catching your breaths. You pulled your knees to your chest.

“You’re going to help her defeat Shredder, aren’t you?” you spoke up quietly.

His eyes widened, surprised at your words. He slowly nodded.

You shook your head, clenching your jaw. “How come you always abandon us when Karai suddenly needs you for something, Leo?” you argued.

He turned to you. “She won’t be able to take him down without me. She needs our help, and I’m the only one willing, you know that,” he stated.

“I don’t trust her one bit; she’s manipulated us too many times, when will you realize that your family is more important than some girl?!”

“Karai is family!” he yelled, causing you to jump at the sudden raise of his voice.

You rested your chin on your knees, pulling them closer in attempt to comfort yourself. “Yet she’s chosen not to be apart of it,” you spoke, your voice barely a whisper.

He frowned, standing up. “This discussion is over.”

And with that, he left you in the dojo.

You sat in Donnie’s lab that night, spinning around in a wheel-y chair whilst he worked on upgrades for the van.

“I don’t get why he’s so hung up over Karai, you know? He’s practically feeding her grapes at this point,” you grumbled.

He chuckled at your comparison.

“He’s always been like this, if you remember when they first met,” he explained.

You chewed on your lip. “I know, but why?”

“Guys!” you heard a high-pitched yell, knowing it had to be Mikey. The two of you scurried out of the lab to see what the commotion was.

“Leo’s not in his room! What if he was taken?!” he yelped, his hands resting on his freckled cheeks in shock.

Raph rubbed the sleep out of his eyes whilst Donnie pulled his phone out, tapping away.

“His T-Phone is unresponsive, too,” Donnie frowned.

You sighed, feeling a pit in your stomach. “I know where he is– or who he’s with, rather.”

The three of you got in the van and headed to Shredder’s chemical lab building, your fists clenched.

Mikey looked at your angered form with a questioning look.

“Everything alright, dudette?”

You sighed. “Yes, Mikey,” you gave him a forced, reassuring smile. “Leo’s just a dumbass, is all.”

“You’ve got that right,” Raph grumbled next to you.

As the four of you entered the building, weapons at the ready, you noticed the building looked trashed– and empty.

“Aw, we missed the battle?” Mikey whined.

Donnie began peering over something, with an “uh oh”.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” the purple-masked turtle exclaimed, pushing the three of you to the nearest exit as he followed.

It became clear as to why he was trying to escape, once the beeping got louder.

They bombed the place.

Suddenly, the four of you were blasted, your ears ringing from the loud noise. Your body had come in contact with something incredibly hard, the pain in your head taking over your conscious. Before you knew it, you were slipping into darkness, your mind clouded with the flames of the building.

Your eyes opened, seeing Splinter and Leo towering over you. You turned your head, noticing the purple-masked turtle awakening beside you. You realized they had performed their healing mantra.

Your head was spinning, and your body ached everywhere. You scanned your body, seeing cuts and bruises scattered all over your skin.

“I am so sorry,” Leo admitted, his invisible eyebrows knitted together with worry.

You sat up with a groan, your hand immediately going to your head. Leo put a hand on your back, worried that you’d fall backward. He assisted you as you carefully got up to stand. The others left, leaving the two of you alone in the dojo.

He couldn’t bear to look at you; you looked so fragile. It broke his heart that he had done this to not only his brother, but you as well.

You watched him as he stared shamefully at the floor.

“Leo,” you spoke softly, making his deep, blue eyes finally meet yours.

“You were right, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice much quieter and softer than his usual confident and clear tone. He was embarrassed and ashamed. “I shouldn’t have went behind the team’s back to help Karai.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Donnie and I could have died if it weren’t for Splinter,” you fought, though your voice was weak.

“I know,” he admitted. “And, I’m sorry. I wish I listened to you.”

“You never listen to anyone when it comes to Karai,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

He frowned, crossing his arms. “Why does Karai upset you so much?”

Tears began to well in your eyes and your bottom lip began to tremble.

“You really want to know why, Leo?” your voice cracked. “I see the way you look at her, the way you push everything aside to assist her with whatever she desires; it tears me apart.”

His eyes softened and his green cheeks flushed. “I-I had no idea you felt that way, I’m sorry.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks and you found it hard to look him in the eye. “You can’t be sorry for how you feel.”

You couldn’t handle his rejection. You left the dojo, running as fast as your sore body could take you despite the turtles calling for you in confusion. As you escaped the sewers, you put your hands on your knees, catching your breath.

Leo stood in the dojo, alone, not sure what to do.

#tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo hamato #teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #tmnt leo x reader

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