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avungerthatgotaway · 4 years ago

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The Soldier of the Night

heyyyy guys!! this is my first ever request fic and im so excited to do iiiit. please tell me what you think of it in the comments🥰

it's made for this request

summary: y/n finally takes matters into her own hands and escapes hydra. but it won't be as easy as she tought...

warnings: mentions of blood and child neglect

pairings: avengers x teen!reader (platonic)

genre: angst-ish, fluff at the end

Sorry for grammar mistakes.

If you have request feel free to ask🥰

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Y/N Y/LN, but no one calls you by that name. To the world you are known as The Soldier of the Night, the merciless murderer. Mothers all over the world use you to teach their kids about most dreadful dangers. People gather around campfire in woods and share scary stories of your cold heart and homicides you don't feel guilty about. You are the biggest fear of each and every government there is in world.

And you always wonder what all those people would say if they knew how old you were. Or that you never kill willingly. Or that you silently pray every night for the victims you harmed or killed in your brainwashed state.

Or that hydra has no control over you anymore. You are currently running, without exact destination, just to get as far from hydra as you can. They are probably alerted of your absence by this point, but you are already in New York, so you can maybe find a hiding spot before they find you.

-Avengers pov

Nick Fury hurried to the avengers tower, where he called a sudden meeting this morning.

When he came in Steve and Sam were sweaty, probably just came from their morning jog. Bucky was still fighting sleep in his pyjamas, hair sticking out in different directions. Wanda was starring daggers at him for waking her up so early. Tony and Bruce were in lab coats, probably didn't sleep at all. All other avengers were at their respective missions.

"I called this meeting because my resources told me infamous Soldier of the Night is out of hydra HQ. We don't know why, but it's probably another killing mission for hydra. He is currently laying low, somewhere around south entrance to the city. Your mission is to stop him from harming anyone and bring him here. Alive if possible, it would benefit us to know what are hydra's plans at the moment." he finished.

"Alright." said Steve dutifully. "Any information we can get on him before we go?"

"Not much. Only that he is dangerous, and doesn't spare anyone. He is a ghost story. We don't even know if it's a he, that's just a guess."

"Very well. Everyone suit up, I expect you in front of tower in 10." Steve said and left, other avengers following behind.

They came back that evening, exhausted of their unsuccessful search. There was no trace of the soldier. But they had to keep looking as long as there's hope to get rid of the monster.

-2nd person pov

Your heart was racing a hundred miles. You were well aware of the possibility of hydra finding you. But you didn't expect it to be this soon. You were in hiding for only 2 months and they already tracked you down.

Windows broke on your left side and hydra agents started piling in. At the same time on your right side the door broke down revealing whole avengers team, with few additions. You faintly remember one of them as The Winter Soldier, but what was he doing with avengers? Your toughts were cut short by a punch in your face delivered by one of hydra agents.

That's when it snapped: you had to fight for your life. And you probably had to fight both sides.

You started fighting hydra agents, harming them as much as you can without killing.

The avengers stand at the doorstep, and you faintly hear one of them saying "What the actual fuck?". They seemed belivered.

But they soon join the fight knocking out hydra agents. A fist connected with the back of your head, knocking you out into pool of darkness.

Light clacking of bottles was the first thing you hear when you wake up. You squint your eyes open, panic finnaly kicking in to where you are. Your first tought was that you were back in hydra HQ, but the room was way too light for that, and hydra wanted you dead.

You started panicking and franatically got out of the bed, trying to escape. Whoever this is, they nean no good. Even avengers want to kill you. But as soon as you got up, black dots invaded your vision, causing you to fall. But before you hit the groung a pair of arms caught you, leading you to sit back in bed.

"Hey, hey sweetie calm down. No one will harm you here. Don't make any sudden movements, your head is still not completely healed." a man told you.

You just layed back and watched him bandage your wrist.

"I am Bruce Banner, by the way. What is your name?" he asked kindly.

"Y/N Y/LN" you whispered, almost inaudibly but he heard it.

"Alright, Y/N. I think I bandaged all your bruises. Rest of the team is waiting out, do you maybe want to meet them?"

By 'team' he probably meant rest of the avengers. You saw a big 'A' painted on the wasll, so that had to be it, right? You immediately shook your head no, eyes widening in fear. You still weren't sure they won't harm you, and meeting them seemed overwhelming in your current state.

"It's okay, calm down. You can meet them later. I will stay with you a little. We could talk if you want?"

You just shrugged your shoulders, not particularly fond of talking with anyone, but not wanting to seem rude because he did help you.

"Okay. How old are you Y/N?" he asked slowly.

"(your age)" you quietly said.

"Dear lord, you really are just a kid. I'm so sorry for everything you've gone through."

You just zoned out, thinking about everything that happened, when something poped up in your mind.

"Mr. Banner?" you asked shyly.

"Call me Bruce kiddo. What is it?"

"I tought I saw The Winter Soldier at the door when you guys came to get me?"

"Oh yes. Bucky. He was also in hydra, as you probably know. He was brainwashed. I suppose you were too?"

"I was, every time I killed somebody. Sometimes I went to missions with other agents and they didn't brainwash me, but I never killed anyone when I was in my senses." You started thinking about your victims as teers pooled in your eyes.

"We supposed so. Do you want me to bring Bucky in a little? Maybe he can help you feel better, because he knows what you're going through."

You slowly nodded, not wanting to reject meeting avengers the second time.

"Alright, he'll be here in a minute." Bruce gave you a gentle smile and patted your shoulder.

A minute after he exited, in came Bucky. He looked better than when you saw him last, but you doubted he's seen you. You were sneaking out, tryna find some food, when you heard and saw agents torturing him. That's about only memory you have of him, along with stories you've heard from other people.

"Hello there doll. How are you? Bruce told me you remember me." he said gently, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"I-I am alright, i guess. Th-thanks. And yes, I do. A little. I was passing by door, when I saw them torturing y-yo-you." you started sobbing a little, the memory bringing back others. Memories of them torturing you. And you torturing other people in your brainwashed state.

"Hey don't cry. It's okay, shhh. Come here." he opened his arms, and you hesitantly scooted closer, not exactly sure what he wanted. He circled his arms around you, and you flinched, thinking he's gonna attack you. But he just gently kept his arms wrapped around you, soothingly rubbing you back. after some time you wraoed your arms around his middle, still not sure what's going on.

But it was a nice feeling. You never felt something like it before. You felt so safe, like nothing could harm you as long as you two stay like that. You wanted to know what was all this about.

"Wha-at are you do-oing?" you asked after you stopped sobbing, but still hiccuping a little.

"Oh, I'm hugging you. Are you uncomfortable? I will stop if you are. Sorry." he said starting to draw back.

"No!" you quickly said, clutching onto him like koala. You were afraid the sense of comfort will leave you as soon as he withdraws from you.

"Shhh, doll. I won't let go. Never. Nothing will ever harm you here kiddo. We will take care of you. You can live normal life, like all other kids. Maybe go to school after you adapt to your surroundings. Here is a kid Peter he is about your age. You can make friends your age. And of course we will be your friends. For as long as you want it."

"Wait, I can live here? I'm not a burden?"

"No, of course not. Don't ever think that, please."

"B-Bu-Bru" you struggled to remember what Bruce told you his name was.

"Bucky. Or James, whichever you prefer kid."

"Oh okay. What are hugs Bucky?"

"Well I'm hugging you right now. You hug people ti show your emotions. Like comfort, thankfulness, happiness, love. It's what friends do."

"Wait wait wait. You never had a hug before?? Like ever????" a new voice boomed. It sounded genuine but way too loud. You flinched instinctively and hid your face in Bucky's shoulder. He tightened his hold on you for comfort.

"Can you be any louder Thor? And no she was practically raised in hydra, they don't exactly hug around." Bucky said.

"I am sorry, lady Y/N. For frightening you, and for my inappropriate question. I am Thor Odinson." he said coming closer to you.

"It's okay Mr. Thor. I'm Y/N Y/LN, nice to meet you." you said shyly.

"Oh it's lovely meeting you too. I came here because brother Stark asked me to ask you if our presence is wished upon now."

"Huh, what do you think, doll? Ready to meet 'em now? No pressure." Bucky quietly asked, only for you to hear.

You tought about it for a second, but if everyone is nice as three you already met, you'd like to meet them all. And with quiet "okay", Bucky nodded to Thor and he left to call the others in.

That night you layed in your bed, thinking of that day's events. You met everyone, since no one had missions assigned. They were all really nice to you. Even Loki, which surprised every avenger. You were not sure why tho, Loki was nice, and his voice was comforting. The Maximoff twins were really funny, and Tony already started making you your own room! Everyone else you've met was aweosme: Natasha, Clint, Steve, Sam and Rhodey. Peter was shy but nice, he promised to show you some good movies and he was belivered when you said you don't know what those are.

Bucky was still you favorite. He stayed the longest, promising to come and visit you first thing in the morning. You hoped he'll hug you again, you were quite fond of hugs now.

Few months passed since avengers saved you. Life couldn't be better at this point. You were home schooling, or rather preparing to go to real school next year. Peter already introduced you to his friends from school you are going to attend. You were training to become an avenger, and it was so exciting.

You were currently having breakfast tho, sitting in between Sam and Bucky who were bickering about one thing or other. Tony was dancing funnily while making pancakes, while Nat was trying to throw as many blueberries as possible at him. You heard Clint somewhere in wents above you, probably setting up a prank. You smiled to yourself. Even though you never knew love, or had a family until two months prior, avengers accepted you. They were slowly becoming your family, and you couldn't imagine your life without them. ;)

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s stepkid

Tony Stark x Potts!child!reader

warnings: alcohol mention

a/n: i rushed these so bad i just wanted to post dhhshsnsna

prompt: y/n is pepper’s kiddo!

it was just you and your mom for a long time

pepper and y/n potts

she couldn’t keep up with you sometimes, too busy dealing with the manchild that was mister anthony edward stark

speaking of—

“uh, who’s this?” -tony, pointing at you

“mr. stark, i am so sorry, the school closed because some kid set fire to the science lab and i didn’t have time to find a sitter—”

“no, it’s fine, no need to apologize. hey, kid, you wanna sit in the boss’s chair? i’ll let you run the company for the day!” *cue you nodding* “sweet, would you mind that, ms. potts?”

“oh? no, not at all” *mouthing* “thank you”

“so, uh, what’s your name? no, don’t tell me: ketchup.”

*giggling* “y/n”

“no way! that was my second guess!”

tony wasn’t used to being around kids

he had no idea that he was actually kind of good around them

despite a few minor hiccups

“you sit in my chair and im gonna spin you around, sound like fun?”

he spun you around WAY too fast and you were diiiiizzy, also you fell off the chair

“don’t tell your mom that we did that. she may be my assistant, but she scares the shit out of me. also, don’t say ‘shit’”

dude he just thought you were a cool kid!!!

“hey, you know, ms. potts, you dont really need to hire a babysitter anymore. y/n’s doing just fine hanging out here”

“how am i not surprised you befriended an actual child?”

she still took him up on his offer, you seemed pretty happy

when your mom worked late, you passed out in tonys office

tony and you had your own little secrets (like falling off the spinning chair), tony showed you around stark tower, and you practically lived there

“i got you a happy meal from mcdonalds!” -tony every day after your school

in all honesty, you weren’t the “popular” kid at school...not even close

but tony made up for it

“y/n! i found this old racecar toy in a box of old stuff, you wanna hold onto it for me?”

you kind of grew up in stark tower tbh? it was pretty cool

and as you grew up, you started to notice more

“mr. tony, do you have a crush on my mom?”

“do i what? no, no, i do—who the hell am i kidding? you caught me”

“called it!”

after that you did everything to try and get them together

when your mom was talking to tony, you would stand behind her and wiggle your eyebrows and just taunt tony endlessly

no! tony cannot remember your mom’s birthday for the life of him! you are his calendar now

“dude, why dont you just ask JARVIS to remind you?”

“i may be a genius, but that doesn’t mean i have common sense”

“wise words, sir” -JARVIS

when tony disappeared for 3 months you were so sad???? like you were not okay at all

and when he came back, he literally exited the plane saying “WHERE’S ‘T-POTT??’”

(your wonderful nickname. ‘t’ for ‘tony jr.’ and ‘pott’ for ‘potts’)

“my mom missed you”

“oh, i bet she did”

“you turned my child into you, tony. i will never forgive you for this”

“well, at least y/n was here to fill in for me, huh?”

tony wanted to show you the arc reactor but he was actually afraid of scarring you lmfaoooo

but he did let you in on the iron man secret (he knew you wouldn’t snitch)

and just to make sure:

“if you dont tell anyone, i’ll buy you a car when you turn 16”

“man, that’s like, forever away”

“good, maybe you’ll forget by then”

ur mom kinda maybe sorta found out abt iron man :/ she told you that tony was a bad influence

“mom! no, tony’s cool! he’s like a superhero”

“no, sweetie, he’s a rich guy with issues. we’re leaving”

that didn’t last long

not long at all

and soon they FINALLY got together

“jeez, i thought you two would never stop pining after each other”

“couldnt have done it without my wingman” -tony *fistbump*

“as thanks can i have my own iron man suit?”

“yes.” *pepper glaring at him* “no.”

sooner or later your mom and you moved into tony’s house and you got a really big room!!!!

it was completely decked out

king sized bed, flatscreen tv, mini-fridge, microwave, computer, your own bathroom with a smaller tv, a poster of tony??? (you vandalized it and put it in his workshop), and more!!!

okay you were spoiled

“do you like it here? are you sure i made the right choice?” -pepper

“are you kidding, mom? this is awesome! plus, you’re happy, i’m happy, tony’s happy, i think JARVIS is even happy!”

“i am, mx. potts. simply ecstatic” -JARVIS

pepper was really happy!! it was a pretty cool family

you started giving your school tony’s number if you ever got in trouble, you knew he’d cover for you

“mr. potts, is it?”

“sure”

“your child, y/n, punched another student in the face today. we’re very disappointed in their behavior”

“why’d they punch the kid?”

“well, the other student punched y/n first”

“HAH! thank you for wasting my time. send y/n back to class and call me back if something important comes up”

he literally gave you a high five when you got home

“i gave him a black eye!”

“i couldn’t be more proud. i mean, i dont condone violence, but self defense is a whole other story”

a little help in the workshop, tony asks you to hold the flashlight

“why don’t you get one of your robots to hold this for you?”

“are you kidding me, you’re complaining? we’re having stepdad/stepkid bonding time! and dum-e can’t do anything right, i dont trust him”

youve had a few theme park trips as a family ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also tony has 100% told you to wait in the car and then left you alone for 2+ hours

“i’m not like a regular dad, im a step-dad. want some beer? you can have a little sip. i’d rather you do it in the house”

your mother actually does love how he actually cares about you!

“y/n is 12% my responsibility” -tony

“tony, you are impossible” -pepper

no avengering for you! pepper said no!!!!!!

disappointed but not surprised

iron man 3: y/n potts is put through the wringer

Text Message to Mr. Tony: bro you better come get your girl, me and happy are watching this other guy flirting with her. he’s showing her pics of his ‘big brain’

Mr. Tony: HE WHAT

Text Message to Mr. Tony: Tony he looks creepy i don’t want him to be my new stepdad do something!!!

anyways ur house kinda blew up and ur mom and you kinda got kidnapped and u were right abt that guy being creepy and thankfully no experiments were done on you but like your mom kinda almost died and her and tony were fine!!! all good in the end

you met mr. col. james rhodes that day

“aw, you’re the kid ive heard so much about” -rhodey

“you mean the coolest kid in the world?check.”

“you cant tell me you aren’t tony’s biological child, good god”

you got to meet the avengers later on too! (you’d already met natasha tho, only briefly)

“i know it can be a little overwhelming, right? meeting all these heros, legends even—” -rhodey

“oh, my god, is that thor? thor!!” -you, leaving rhodey in the dust

literally why does pepper trust you around tony something always goes wrong there were literally robots attacking, you were only at avengers tower bc your mom was busy with the company and she thought you’d be safe with the avengers. the AVENGERS.

“please dont tell your mom that i created a bad robot that tried to kill us. the robot will be the least of our problems” -tony

he made happy pick you up and you had to miss out on FUN and it sucked a lot

“it’s okay, y/n! i’m fun, too!” -happy

then your mom and tony took a break and your life got mega-boring for a while, but they weren’t separated for that long. you try not to think about it. it was brutal

Mr. Tony: Does she miss me?

New Message to Mr. Tony: I think so. Either that or she’s crying and drinking wine in the dark for no reason.

Mr. Tony: Damn it, now I feel bad. I miss her a lot. Oh, also, the Avengers say ‘hi,’ I’m in Germany with some bad news, I’ll explain later if you don’t see it on TV first, and I found you the perfect friend! His name is Peter and I think you’d like the school he goes to, it’s in Midtown. Smart kid school.

New Message to Mr. Tony: I’ll look into it, thanks. Also, I don’t like how those all connect. Please update me asap

watching the news to see several avengers arrested, cap on the run, and more!

“maybe it was good i didn’t fall in with the avengers”

tony and pepper finally got back together and you actually transferred to midtown high! peter and his friend group accepted you quickly, it was great. you and flash unfortunately had the most in common

you’d literally text happy right next to peter and he’d immediately reply to you. it hurt peter’s feelings

Momma: Sweetie! I’m working in the office late, leftovers are in the fridge, hope you have a wonderful day at school! 💕

👉👈the vulture tried to kill you for being tony’s stepkid, tony made peter promise to protect you

“y/n, you gotta stay out of harm’s way. mr. stark gave me an actual mission and it’s terrifying, i have to make sure you stay safe”

legit why the fuck was this old man tryna kill you bro grow up

anyyyywayssss your mom and tony got engaged!!

“wow, i thought the day would never come!!” -you

ppl told you tony isnt your stepdad bc ur mom and him werent married but who tf asked

why is the earth always in fucking danger

you and peter were just vibing on the field trip bus and all the sudden: space donut

“go! i’ll cover for you...FRIDAY, call tony”

“...hi there, little one”

“what the fuck”

“oh, so you see the aliens, too? well, at least im not crazy”

tony stark has left the atmosphere

you and your mom were kinda......not chillin tho

she and you didn’t sleep for a few nights, then ppl just straight up disappeared

plot twist: you survived the snap and your family was lucky to be alive, you even got a little sister who became a big handful!

only bad thing was all your friends dusted and you were pretty lonely

but watching morgan grow up kept you busy

“ahhh, shes so big!”

happy times in bad times

bad times!!!!! bc after five years thanos came back as thanos from like ten years ago. outdated thanos. obsolete thanos.

but you made your first and only appearance in the suit tony actually designed for you many years ago

you should have just stayed home tho bc that fight didnt pass the vibe check

“please dont tell me he...no, no, no, no, no”

you and your mom latched onto each other in tears, tony was one of the best people in your life, he made you and your mom two of the happiest people on earth

best stepdad a kid could ever ask for

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

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The Love Yet Known Part 3

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Late that summer after everything was settled with Luca Changretta, Tommy invited Eliza and Alfie to visit Arrow House in Warwickshire. Since Tommy was the one who initiated it, he figured it would be a nice, quiet few days. Charlie clearly missed his aunt dearly. The little boy was used to always having her around to entertain him. He always asked after her and became cross when Tommy said she was married, that’s why she didn’t live with them anymore.

“Well, when is she not going to be married?” Charlie would ask.

Tommy just chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think there will ever be a day when that happens, my boy.”

No one was blind to the growing affection Eliza and Alfie had from their wedding day on. In fact, it was quite a sight to see when the two were together. Such a shy thing like Eliza had a calming effect on Alfie, who rarely seemed to be in a sour mood when she was around. Likewise, he seemed to bring Eliza out of her shell a little bit. She had many friends in Camden and found herself more active in the community than she ever imagined she would be.

Tommy never gloated, well he tried not to, but he liked to boast about how he made the match between Eliza and Alfie.

Still, Arthur and a few of the other Peaky boys were having a hard time accepting Alfie into their sacred spaces. They considered him their sister’s husband, not a brother-in-law. They had a petty habit of writing to Eliza and addressing it with her maiden name. Arthur felt sick to his stomach if he saw his dear sister’s name next to a name like Solomons.

Alfie wasn’t very hospitable either. He wouldn’t let go of old habits of trying to rile Arthur up. He only ever invited a few of Eliza’s family members to visit them in Camden. None of them even knew the married couple shared a beachfront home in Margate. Alfie would shudder to think if the Shelbys got an idea of inviting themselves over for a holiday.

But all things considered, life was going well.

~~~~~~~

Alfie helped Eliza out of the car. “This place gets bigger every time I visit; I swear it does.” He muttered.

His wife laughed softly. “Well, hopefully, you don’t get lost.”

Charlie came running outside to greet his aunt. “Auntie Liza!”

“Hello!” Eliza beamed and stooped down to pick her nephew up.

“Oh, love, be careful.” Alfie winced. It was a good thing Eliza wasn’t easily irritated. Because once Alfie found out she was pregnant, he became overprotective. He insisted on carrying things for her, let her sleep in as long as she liked, and had someone come in to take over any housekeeping duties that she might’ve done. Not that Eliza was keen on keeping anything clean anyway. Alfie knew he was being annoying, but he wanted to make sure that his child and the mother of that child was well kept. He felt it was his duty to ensure their safety and health.

Charlie gave Alfie a side-eye. “Hi, Uncle Alfie.” He said in a less jovial voice.

“You well, Charlie?”

“Mhm.” The little boy shrugged.

Eliza set him down and reached for her suitcase but Alfie stepped in. “I’ve got it. Go on ahead.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and followed Charlie inside to find Tommy.

~~~~~~~~~

At dinner that night, it was just the four of them. Tommy, Lizzie, Alfie, and Eliza. They chatted casually about things, nothing too consequential. Then, during dessert, Eliza felt it was a good enough time to tell them.

“So, Alfie and I have news.” Eliza reached for her husband’s hand under the table and gave him a smile.

“You’re pregnant.” Tommy finished for her.

Alfie’s brow furrowed. “And what on Earth gave you that impression?” He snapped. He knew how important and special it was for Eliza to tell everyone about the baby, so Alfie was a bit ticked off that Tommy had affectively ruined the moment.

Tommy glanced up from his whiskey glass. “Am I wrong?”

“Well…no.”

“But how did you know?” Alfie asked again.

“Because of the way you’ve been acting around her. Anyone could tell if they’ve known you long enough, Alfie.” Tommy answered casually. “I haven’t seen her carry anything at all today.”

Eliza just chuckled. “Well, I didn’t know we made it that obvious.”

“You and I will have a lot to talk about then,” Lizzie spoke up.

“Why? Oh…oh really?” Eliza’s eyes lit up. “You’re pregnant?”

The two sisters-in-law got up to hug one another. Surely it was special knowing there was someone else walking a similar path. After all, it’s not like their husbands knew what it felt like.

“Well, seems we’ll be coming around much more often then, Tom.” Alfie sighed. Well, if his wife was happy, then he would drive her back and forth from London to Warwickshire as many times as she liked.

~~~~~~~~~

Lizzie gave birth to Ruby when Eliza was still seven months along. Seeing and holding the baby girl in her arms was such a lovely occasion. It was almost like a hint at what was to come. It would be much more surreal though, that’s what Lizzie told her.

“It’s so strange holding her. All of a sudden, you’ve got this little life. One you’ve waited so long to hold and she’s yours to care for and love. It’s really overwhelming.” Her sister-in-law tried to explain as best she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Now all there was to do was wait a little longer. The nursery was all set up and ready. Meanwhile, the midwife was on call whenever the first signs of labor came.

In the blistering cold of February, Eliza was due any day. Alfie started to work from home just in case she went into labor and he needed to be there for her. He didn’t get out of bed as early, but he was awake much earlier than his wife on most mornings.

It was a peaceful time where he could just bask in the warm feelings of holding his beloved wife close to him, all cuddled up in bed. Cyril keeping their feet warm at the end of the bed. His soft breathing sometimes syncing up to Eliza’s heartbeat.

Alfie would wrap an arm around her waist, resting a hand over her swollen stomach. There, he could feel his child kicking. The emotions that overcame him when he felt that little pressure against his hand were indescribable. He was thrilled, excited, nervous, afraid. He didn’t know how he would measure up as a father. Didn’t know how his line of work would impact the life of his child.

Every possible worst-case scenario had run through his head since Eliza told him she was pregnant. His worst fear was losing her and the baby. Or losing the baby and having to cope with their shared grief. Or losing Eliza and having to be a single father while grieving his wife.

The possibilities kept him up at night, practically driving him mad with anxiety. But then there were the good thoughts. The joy he would feel when he first held his child. The pride of seeing every milestone from first words to first steps.

It was overwhelming to think about and it didn’t help that the wait was making him even more anxious.

~~~~~~~~~

But finally, the day came when Eliza gave birth to a healthy baby boy. It was a relief to hear that his wife and son were both going to be perfectly fine. As Alfie climbed the stairs to see them, he felt his hands trembling with anxiety and anticipation.

What if he did something wrong?

What if Eliza thought he wasn’t a good father?

What if he just wasn’t enough?

All the self-deprecating thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air when he saw his son swaddled in his mother’s arms.

Eliza gave her husband a tired smile. “He’s beautiful, Alfie.” She whispered with tears in her eyes.

Alfie walked over to the bed and peered over. “Fucking hell, look at all that hair, aye?” He chuckled with tears welling up in his eyes as well. “Look at him, he’s about as perfect as you can get, ain’t he?” He kissed Eliza’s forehead. “I can’t ever repay you for giving me such a perfect gift.”

“I think you can with a few dozen nappy changes.” She teased back.

“Done deal.” He grinned and gently cradled his son’s head.

“You can hold him.”

Alfie’s nerves pricked at him again as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Eliza gently placed the newborn in his arms, looking over him with such fondness.

“There you are.” He said softly. “Been waiting quite some time for you, mate.”

Eliza rested her cheek on her husband’s shoulder as he spoke to their son. “What should we name him?” She asked.

They had passed around a few names over the course of her pregnancy but none of them particularly stood out to either of them.

“How about Asher?”

“Is that Jewish?” Eliza asked.

Alfie nodded. “Means blessed. Was one of the twelve tribes of Israel, back in ancient times.”

She smiled. Truly, she felt blessed. Not just by the birth of her son, but by everything. She had found her soulmate, fell in love with him, married him, and now produced such a beautiful little boy. Her heart felt so full in her chest. “I love it. I think it’s absolutely perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A month after Asher was born, Eliza brought up the idea of bringing him to Warwickshire to meet her family. Tommy was apparently arranging a dinner to bring the whole family together. That way they could catch up on things without being busy with work and the children could all see their cousins.

Alfie bristled at the idea. It was one thing to spend a couple of days with just Tommy and Lizzie. But to be around the whole Shelby family, it was not a pleasant thought. He almost felt as if he’d be alone, surrounded by people who didn’t quite trust him. People he didn’t really trust either.

“Won’t be a pleasant trip, tryna get there with a newborn.” He thought of the mistake on the fly.

“It’ll be fine, it’s not too far and I’m sure Asher will sleep the whole way there. If he doesn’t then it isn’t the end of the world.” Eliza assumed her husband was just concerned about the baby’s sake.

“Dunno…”

“Then maybe we invite everyone here. It’ll be a little crowded but we’ll make it work.” She suggested to eliminate the idea of traveling.

Having the Shelbys in his space, his territory was an even worse idea. “Tommy’s place is big enough, we ain’t gonna have that many people over here.”

“So…” She looked at him. “Then we’ll go to Tommy’s.”

Alfie didn’t want to outright say he didn’t want to be around her family. He was afraid it might break her heart. But he wasn’t going to pretend that it was a joy to be around them either. He stifled a groan, feeling backed into a corner for sure. “I mean…if it’ll make you happy, love.”

“I want to see Ruby and I want everyone to meet Asher.” She replied, able to hold her ground against him when she chose to. “So yes, it would make me happy.”

There was no arguing that. His wife’s happiness was one of the few things that mattered to him. “Alright then, we’ll go. I won’t be a bother about it.” He promised, earning a smile and a kiss from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Asher slept through most of the car ride over to Warwickshire. Eliza appeared happy to be seeing her family and to introduce them to her son.

The sun was starting to set as they entered the estate. Alfie felt on his guard as he walked in beside Eliza, already hearing the colorful language coming in from the parlor. There was laughing and yelling coming from upstairs, most likely the children playing with one another.

Polly saw them coming in first and rushed over to embrace her niece. “Look at you. Motherhood suits you, my dear.” She turned to Alfie who was holding his son. “And there he is. Looks very healthy. You must be very proud, Alfie.”

“Yeah.” He smiled slightly. Leave it to Polly to get on his good side even when he was tense. “He’s a lot of work, ain’t he, but it’s rewarding.”

Polly could see the hesitation in Alfie’s eyes. He was holding Asher protectively to his chest, his eyes scanning across the room almost looking for potential threats. She decided he would have to warm up to the idea of handing his son over for anyone to hold.

Eliza didn’t appear to catch onto her husband’s discomfort. “Alfie, I’ll take him.”

“S’alright, love. I don’t mind.”

“Well, let Polly hold him for a bit.” She suggested.

“It’s alright,” Polly replied gently to her niece. “You two make yourselves at home. I’ll get you a drink, love. Alfie would you like something?”

“No, thank you.” He replied a bit relieved that Polly hadn’t pushed the matter.

But then Arthur swooped in and gave his sister a bear hug. “Glad you came, chey.”

Eliza giggled and hugged him back. “Hi, Arthur.”

“Good to see ya. Now, where’s the little one, aye?” The eldest Shelby’s eyes settled on Alfie with a look of slight distaste.

Eliza stepped in to try and keep the atmosphere light and festive. “This is Asher, he just turned a month old.” She reached over to adjust the little cap on the newborn’s head. His dark hair was sticking out from underneath it.

“A month already.” Arthur shook his head. “Well, wish we could’ve been there earlier.” He gave his brother-in-law a stern look. As if Alfie was purposefully keeping Eliza hidden away in Camden Town to keep her away from her family.

“Arthur…” She sighed. But it was too late. The powder keg had already been lit.

“Well, mate, it weren’t the easiest delivery. Eliza had to take a bit of time to recover.”

“If Pol had been there like she wanted then maybe it wouldn’t have been so difficult.” Arthur wasn’t standing down from the challenge. In fact, he welcomed a reason to argue.

“Arthur, that’s enough.” His aunt interrupted. “We’ve had this discussion before but it’s over. The baby’s already born.”

But neither man listened to a voice of reason. “She had the best midwife in Camden Town there. Are you insinuating I wouldn’t get the best for me wife?”

“I’m saying you’ve been keeping our sister from seeing her family.”

“She’s got a mind of her own, mate, she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest.

“Please, will you two just stop?” Eliza begged.

“Did she have a choice when Tommy sold her off to you?” Arthur’s voice raised and Eliza knew she had to step in before the rest of the party started to take notice of the brewing storm between her brother and husband.

“Alright, enough. You two are making a scene and it’s ridiculous.” She took Asher from Alfie’s arms when he was caught off guard and handed the baby to Polly. Before her husband could protest, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into another empty room of Arrow House.

“You’re just going to leave him?” Alfie spat.

“With my aunt who I trust with my life? Yes!” She snapped in an exasperated tone. “What on Earth has gotten into you? I thought this would be a nice visit, I didn’t think I had to tell you to be on your best behavior. But apparently, I should’ve because you’re acting like a child!”

“Your brother started it!” His normally soft-spoken wife gave him a death glare. Alfie backtracked when he realized the childish response was exactly what Eliza was talking about. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I just don’t like him treating me that way. Like I’m some monster who kidnapped you.”

“Oh, Alfie.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close. “You know Arthur and you know that’s not true. You’ve given me everything and I’ve never been so happy. But we can’t make them see that. If they don’t see it then that’s their fault.” She kissed his cheek. “We know the truth.”

He grumbled. Of course, she was right, seldom was she wrong. It just didn’t help that when they went back to the party, Arthur would still be the same. “M’trying, love.”

“I know you are.” She smiled. “They’re difficult. But you are too.”

He chuckled. There was no arguing that.

“But now Asher is sort of a buffer. You just have to let them hold him.”

Alfie looked disgruntled. He knew intuitively that none of the Shelbys would bring harm to the child. But there was still that protective instinct that he could never totally shake. If he let his guard down, bad things happened. The only time that wasn’t the case was when he was alone with Eliza and Asher. That quiet space where everything good in the world seemed to line up. Nothing outside of their warm home mattered.

“Alright.” He relented. It seemed reasonable that if he played along, the sooner they would be out of there.

Eliza smiled and kissed him softly. “Try to enjoy yourself.” She said before going to return to the party.

~~~~~~~~~

Alfie followed and found Polly was still holding Asher. But Ada and Lizzie were cooing over the baby. Tommy was sat next to his aunt, holding Ruby and smiling at his new nephew. Even Arthur was nearby smiling at Asher.

Alfie did his best not to hover even when his son was passed from relative to relative. It seemed to make Eliza happy to see her family holding her newborn. She spoke proudly about him. The meaning of his name, his blue eyes, how much Cyril adored him, and everything else that had happened in his short life.

After a while, Alfie began to relax slightly. Although he always kept an eye out to see who was holding Asher.

Toward the end of the night, his son was finally placed back in his arms. Asher was fast asleep despite the Shelbys having a good time with a good amount of alcohol. Alfie gently touched his cheek with his thumb. “They can be exhausting, aye?” He murmured quietly. “Better get used to it I suppose. Don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

Asher yawned and shifted slightly in his swaddle.

Alfie glanced up when he heard someone clear their throat. Arthur was standing nearby, a glass of whiskey in hand. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the empty armchair near the sofa Alfie was sitting on.

“Ain’t my house, mate.”

Arthur shrugged and sat down. “So, how does it feel, aye? Must get no sleep with him. And Liza, I doubt she ever gets up. Would take a train to wake her when she was younger.”

It was a strange olive branch but Alfie chuckled. “Yeah, it’s tough tryna get her up to nurse him. S’alright though. Never been a big sleeper myself.” He admitted.

“Yeah, war will do that to you.” Arthur agreed after a sip of whiskey.

They were so similar, it was a wonder that they butted heads so often. They were veterans with deep scars, liked to solve problems with their fists, hardly flinched at death, and yet fiercely cared about their kin. But bad blood was hard to wash out, especially in their line of work.

“I’d always be up with Billy when he was that young. It’s good, keeps your mind busy.” He added.

“They’re a good distraction.” Alfie nodded, looking down at his son. “Changes a lot of perspectives on life.”

Arthur looked across the room to see Eliza smiling at him. Of course, she’d put him up to it, insisting that if he wanted to see more of her, he would be nicer to her husband. Arthur complained but she wasn’t hearing it. It seemed that marriage and motherhood had really taught her when to put her foot down. But sitting there with his brother-in-law, Arthur seemed to realize that there wasn’t much else he could do. Here they were, both fathers to a son, both husbands. They were too old to be the vicious fighters they were as young men. It was too tiring.

Alfie came to a similar conclusion. They could fight about the same things that happened so long ago. There wasn’t anything new to argue about. Just the grudges they both held. Which were equally as tiring. “Here.” He held Asher out.

Arthur looked a bit surprised but decided not to make a scene out of it. He set his whiskey glass down and cradled his nephew to his chest. “Looks like Liza when she was a baby.” He chuckled. “She had so much hair. Our mother was shocked. I hope he doesn’t cry as much as she did. God, she was noisier than John ever was.” His eyes saddened at the mention of Eliza’s twin. It felt like ages ago that they’d lost John and yet, it was still so fresh.

“That’s his middle name, you know,” Alfie said. “Asher John.”

Arthur got a little choked up. “He’d be thrilled if he was here.” He tried to laugh off his grief but it was obvious how much it hurt. “Don’t think he’d ever stop bragging about it.”

Eliza came over, so happy to see the two men getting along for the first time ever. She kissed Alfie’s temple as she sat down next to him.

A quiet lull fell over the room. The warm chatter of family radiated with the fire and drinks. Alfie felt his shoulders relax while he wrapped an arm around Eliza’s shoulders. Things could be okay if he allowed them to be. So he did.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomonsxofc #tommy shelby #tommy shelbyxlizzie stark #polly gray #arthur shelby #lizzie stark #charles shelby #ruby shelby #oc #ofc #john shelby #season 4 #season 5 #tom hardy #tom hardy character #tom hardy fanfiction

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funtarou · 4 years ago

Text

Wishes || Kuroo x Reader

The Second Part of "Plans" || Kuroo x Reader" fic

Second part is here and I hope it's decent or maybe satisfying enough. Like wise, I'm rusty and still trying to regain my writing zone. Also I haven't throughly slowly proof-read this so-- Also also ya know, like wise, how I depict Kuroo has no guarantee that it's the actual Canon Kuroo, ya know. But I'm tryna get a bit close-

Story Warning: Angst, Comfort/hurt?, Human emotions are weird okay. There's one Sexual action but not described specifically. Still just incase, 13 year old below minors do not interact.

Writing Warning: Bad English grammar and possible spelling mistakes and wrong use of words. English is not my first language and I'm still tryna get back in writing groove.

Read part 1 here

Kuroo Tetsurou never expect such a dirty play from life. He though all of the dark side in life for him has already ran out the moment his mom stormed out of their house when he was a kid. He though it was already enough the moment he heard his own older sister said she doesn't want anything to do with him. He though it was satisfying enough for life to see him bid farewell to his friends back at his old neightbourhood. Maybe he's still naive to think that he won't be affected by any games life would play him after the things he need to went through in his early childhood. Even after it already forced him to think more maturely in a young age, and developed a sort of social anxiety in those younger days, there just seems to be more and more things life had planned for him.

But after witnessing a near-death experience, Your near death experience, he wish life would let him off the Hook. Because it was just too much.

It has been 96 hours since you were hit by the bastard with the car who drives away the next second. And despite already being treated, you still haven't wake up. The doctor said you'll be fine despite the injuries, but might experience headaches when waking up. But on the matter of when, it was still uncertain. For now it's best to let you rest, let your brain process the shock from the hit.

96 hours, and Kuroo still stays by your side. Only leaving on occasion to get some supplies he needs to stay at your hospital room. He hasn't attend his classes for the past four days yet, but has someone he's on good-terms with (and has the same classes as him) to give him notes and stuff that was taught at those classes. Kenma occasionally stopped by to give him food and check up on your condition too. A few of your friends and family also came for the same reason for the past four days.

Even though his heart ache and yearns for you to open your eyes, to know for sure that you'll be okay, he always tries to maintained a cold head. Despite the lingering fear that stays at the back of his head and the image of your frail body being hit and thrown to the side of the road, he put up a strong front. to himself and to the people around him. He has been focusing on his studies despite not present in classes, still maintaining a proper diet and sleep schedule. Acting normal, and trying to think everything is fine now that he knew you're treated and is going to be okay. He cant just go in deep depresso espresso mode now while you're unconcious. Because he knew you'd be upset if you wake up and found out he hasn't been taking care of himself. Another thing he always keep in mind is, that he cant let this bump in life ruined his plans. Not to mention he's nearing graduation if he Ace his essays and IP. He can get a job soon, a well-paid one if he works hard enough. Soon enough he can buy you the things you always dream of getting ever since highschool. He can already imagined the beaming in your eyes when he give it to you, one day.

Yeah. This is just a bump in life. Everyone Will eventually experience it at Times. Nothing is perfect, but that doesn't mean he cant stop trying to reach his future plans with you.

As Kuroo was typing on his laptop, sitting beside your bed with one hand on top of your hand, he sensed a sudden movement. His eyes quickly shot up from the device to your laying figure. He stays quiet for a few seconds, that is before he can feel the sudden broken movements of your fingers in his once again. He stand up, putting the laptop aside before putting another hand on your hand that had moved. Eyes slightly wide in anticipation for your own to open.

"... (Y/n)?"

He whispered, not wanting to startle you. The movement on your hand in his owns slowly became stronger, until it managed to lightly close in to a half fist and open again. Your eyelids trembles lightly, making an effort to open. But when it does, your orbs slowly land on him. He cant help himself, as he feels his vision getting blurry with the unintentional tears gathering up.

"Hey love... How are you feeling...?"

He softly and slowly questions, letting you process your conditions as he notices your eyes roaming around as if trying to understand where you are. And then he sees your eyes roaming at his figure, at your conjoined hands. And for some reason, the way your eyes looked at him, the way it moved as if analyzing him and the way your hand slightly shifted in his soft grip, gave him a bad feeling under the relief.

And it seems like Kuroo's gut feeling has always been spot on. For the words you weakly utter next Made his heart drop.

"... W-Who... Who are you...?"

And he wish you were pranking him at that moment.

2 years since the incident.

The day when you woke up, Kuroo called the doctors to check up on you. After going through some tests, the doctor concluded that the impact and shock from the accident Made you lost a big part of your memories. Your family was called the same day to received the information.

Ever since that day, Kuroo has been trying to rush your memories back. He's taking it slow, not wanting to pressure you and the recovery of your memories. He's been really supportive and optimis on making you remember your family, your friends, your life style, hobbies, and him. Gladly you still remember and can manage most of the things you learned at your major, and you returned back to campus a few days after you woke up. Now you've successfully graduated with an average but good scores. Yet due to not remembering your passion, you're not quiet sure what career you want to take, up until now. You've only been doing part-time jobs and online shops. Everything still feels unfamiliar to your head, yet strangely familiar in your chest.

After getting out of the hospital, You agreed on still staying with Kuroo at your shared apartment. Kuroo also persuaded your family that it might make you remember faster on your latest life style. And in a way, he has a point. Most of the stuffs you supposely enjoy and most of the things you use in your routines is in the apartment. The things back at your family house are the old things you didn't use and left when you moved out for college. In the end you spend those two years living in the same roof with him, someone who people told you is your lover of some years now.

For the past 2 years also, Kuroo tried giving you your space. He restrict himself from kissing you everytime he sees you. He tries to hold back on smushing you againts his chest. He lets you choose where you wanted to sleep, either it be the guest room or your shared bedroom. If you're not comfortable with him hugging you, like how you two used to do everyday, he'll make a distance from your side of the bed or sleep on another place. Through those Times, be tries to done the deeds on his own, not with anyone else, without you knowing too. It's been hard for him to locked up all of his swelling feelings and affections for you, yet he doesn't want to overwhelmed you. Not until you remember him, or maybe, developed the same compassion feelings for him as your new self.

But it seems like you've caughed on his hidden desperation for you. And if there's a side of you that stays, it's your need to return the favor he has been giving you. Afterall, he's the most supportive person you've met ever since you woke up. The one who let you stay at the apartment despite not remembering him, the one that pays for all your need with his new found job, the one that's with you through the twisted road for you to remember the people you love and cherished. And so that night, you confronted him.

"Please let me help, Kuroo."

Despite the sting in his heart when hearing you call him with his last name, he cant hold himself back. Afterall, saying no to you feels so heavy for him to do.

You felt familiar under his touch, under his warmth. And whatever he did to your body, you always response accordingly. He knew every parts of your body, every beauty and insecurities. He knew what to do, because before the incident it's not like you two were playing holy-boy holy-girl in your relationship.

There's this momenterally serotonin he felt when being connected with you once again. Seeing your raw emotions of pleasure and your body doing the talking. It feels like everything was back like how it was. Everything was normal, back when you would know every part of him as much as he does, back when you utter the words of love as much as he does. But, he described the feeling as "momenterally" for a reason.

You two spend the night, cuddled againts each other, or could also be said him pulling you close out of habbit. But after experiencing one of the world's pleasure with you again, he really just need to be slapped with a sour something.

"Kuroo... I don't think I could keep pretending..."

Because deep in your heart, Kuroo Tetsurou is still a stranger in your foggy head. To your old self, your old memories, he would be the man of your dreams, the man you wish would spend forever with you. But now everything is different. You tried to find that passion within you for him, it's not like it's that hard because he was an attractive man. Despite all that, you come to realized it feels wrong. You knew, you've been knowing of how he loves you with all his beings and existence, while you only stays and manifested your love for him through a facade and a form of "Pity" for his desperate heart. It fills your chest with aching guilt, feeling as if you're using him at his more vulnurable mental and emotional state.

One could say you utter your next words on panic and quite irrantional thinking. Yet it felt right at the back of your head, to let him break free from the past. To let yourself break free. Because your little heart cant keep this game much longer.

Yet, He wish you would for a little longer.

4 years passed by.

The whispering noises of the audiences are audible through the whole building. Some excited whispers, some casual talks. They're all waiting for you, not to mention the spiky haired JVA member.

His head hang low, looking down at the ground. Hands remains restless, patting his neat suit here and there and occasionally being put in his pant's socket. Beside him was Kenma, putting a hand behind his back and soothing his best friend.

Minutes passed by, and finally the slow music started playing, silently announcing to the people in the building of your soon arrival. The flower girl appeared from the door first, your nephew dressed In beautiful frilly white dress with flowers decorating. Her Tiny hands throwing the pastel mix colored petals as she skipped her way down the aisle. Some of your relatives coo'ed at her cute attics while throwing the flowers. And then when your form is visible In the room, all eyes are on you. Dolled up beautifully in your long white wedding attire, a thin veil lightly covering your face. You walked down the aisle, a family member holding one of your arm, accompanying you to your soon to be husband.

If someone were to ask what Kuroo Tetsurou though Angels looked like, he would describe this scene in front of him.

The scene was beautiful and breath-taking to Kuroo's eyes. Even Kenma can hear his tall friend's breath hitching for a second when his eyes land on you. Your face moved up, eyes locking at Kuroo's cat like ones as if on instinct. You two starred for a few seconds, before a small smile softly tugged at the edge of your glossed lips. But after that smile, you turned your head and tore your gaze away from his.

A drop of tear unconciously traveled down his face. Followed by another from his other eye, and then followed by a few more soon after. He's silently crying, holding on a sob as his hands formed in a fist shakingly. Kenma of cource notices this, as he glanced to his tall friend beside him. But he was unsure of what to do himself that can comfort his best friend, and so he continued rubbing (hopefully) comforting circles behind the taller male's back.

Afterall, Kenma doesn't think he's in a much better emotional state than Kuroo at this moment either. Where Kuroo cried on his realization of fully loosing you to another, Kenma hold tears of his mix emotions. Kenma's happy for you and your soon to be husband, but he cant help but sympathize with Kuroo. Afterall he's the only guy that has seen and hear you two go through all the hard and happy Times. It's always you three since grade school. Even though you and Kuroo formed a romantic relationship Along the way, you two never left Kenma behind and Kenma never stop supporting you two. And at this moment, Kenma is unsure how to feel with the whole ordeal. He wanted his best friend back together like before, but he doesn't want to force you in to it, not when you forgot all those happy and sad Times you three experienced together.

And as you reached the end of the aisle, a hand awaited to take yours in. A hand that was not Kuroo's, but someone whom he atleast knew at one point in life. Osamu Miya. The man you met and developed deep feelings for, after you left him back in Tokyo.

Kuroo thinks you're being subconciously quiet mercifull for him. If you were to marry someone you and him knew for years, it would be more painful for him to try and mask his sadness with a smiling face in false supportive-ness. And as he sat there in silent tears, he watch and listens to you ex-changing vows with the Kansai man you've chosen to plan your new future with.

He wish it was him again. He wish he has that privilages to be a part of your future again.

Afterall he already planned everything beforehand.

As Osamu slipped the gold ring through your delicate finger, Kuroo's mind went back to a few days a go. Where he had found a neatly wrapped letter in his mailbox. He wished he didn't come when you had sent him a wedding invitation. But years of not seeing you nor ex-changing much conversation through text, could add to the factor on how desperate he is to remain in contact with you. Even after years, He's not used to being so far away like this yet.

His cat like eyes bore on to the piece of decorated paper.

How he wish it was his name written there beside yours.

5 years has passed by since the wedding.

After the ceremony Kuroo only greeted a few familiar faces and then silently leave with Kenma. For some reason Kuroo doesn't have it in him to face you, nor say his congratulations for you. He doesn't feel like tugging a smile for you at all that day. He hoped you didn't dechiper his emotionless face as something bad.

Now he's sitting in quietly, looking at the stars above him. Behind him can be seen a wooden cabin he had rent for a small nature trip, by himself. He thinks maybe he needs it, to atleast distract himself from the though of you. Honestly the first thing that dragged him to nature and disconnect with technology, is when he sees a picture being posted by Osamu Miya and shared by Atsumu on his social account. A picture of you and your 3 year old daughter with Osamu, smiling happily as it seems the three of you are eating at Onigiri Miya.

But for some reason, having his time within the fresh air of the mountains and therapeutic noises of the forest surrounding him, only Made his thoughs Drifts further on you. He though that your love is truly for him. He though that maybe he does deserve "forever". Maybe he shouldn't expect so much back then. There was never been a perfect love story from the beginning and he should've seen it coming. Even if all the odds around him seems to lead him on thinking "yes you two are meant together", maybe it's just another one of life's trial. He kept thinking like that through the 5 years.

Crouching down, Kuroo grabbed a small gasoline can that was placed beside his leg. He walked further to the wild, the backyard of the cabin, nearing a cliff where in the morning the breath-taking view of the waterfall and field can be seen. From his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a paper file. When opening the file, it can be seen there are several papers within it and one quiet thick handmake-shift book.

He took a seat on the dirt, not minding some dust getting on his already dirty pants from the previous hike he had. One by one, his eyes wander off through the pieces of paper in the file, reading his small writings on it before dropping it to the ground in front of him. Until all the paper has been read lightly and dropped on the ground, he moved to the book. He only ever took the moment to fully and slowly read the words on the first date of the book. The date where he finally mustered the courage to confess his long-time feelings for you, and the date where he found out you also felt the same. Felt.

He schemed through the rest of the page, rather carelessly. Because he knew if he ever took the time to read each and every single plans he had for you and him, he would spend the rest of the night in tears. Heck maybe he couldn't even sleep seeing how many he wrote in the past.

Finally he reached the last page with his writings on it. His saving plans to buy you a ring. His written plan of how he was going to pull one of the best proposal action, only for you. Seems like all of that is for nothing now.

Kuroo closed the book, dropping it down with the other papers on the dirty ground. Standing up, he stretched his limbs lightly before moving to grab and open the gasoline can. Pouring all over the papers and book, not leaving any surfaces untouched, until all the papers are nicely soaked. After he emptied the gasoline can, he pulled a box of matches out from his pant's pocket.

He lights one up and throw it at the pile of papers. It went out before it could touch the wet surface, which Made Kuroo clicked his tongue in annoyence. He lights up another one, but this one went out in his hand when a sudden gush of wind hit his face. He groans in silent frustration.

'Now nature wants to hold me back?'

Was his first though.

He tries one more time. Lighting up a match, but this time dragging it down and guiding it to touch the surface of the papers. This time it finally lights up the flames on the paper. He sight contently, standing back up to see how the fire slowly covered and burns every pieces of papers and the book. Soon enough, the small fire turned in to a camp fire with the amount of fuels given to it.

The mountain around this place is quiet, especially at this time of the night. The only thing prominently audiable to the spiky haired male at the moment are the sound of the fire eating the papers.

And just like that his future plans are all ruined by the flames. The flames in front of him right now, and the flames of lingering love he still has for you. Just this week he figured he should destroy the pieces of papers that still Remind him of the old Times with you, so that he could move forward. He's in his late twenties already, he needs to get over with things and start looking up for his own future. No matter how lonely it seems like without you by his side.

He wish in another life, he could have the privilages to plan a future with you once again.

And maybe if that time does happen, he wish that everything wasn't just mere plans and wishes.

If he were to be given another chance, in another time or another universe,

He'll make sure to make every wish and plans he had in this life, a reality.

A solid reality of you and him.

But for this life, it seems like it was never meant to be.

- End

A/N: I hope I delivered well. Maybe- Actually I wish I could deliver my ideas better

Like wise, cover edit by me but the image belongs to the Haikyuu manga

#kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou angst

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babysizedfics · 4 years ago

Text

Roman involuntarily going into littlespace because he's repressing it, cgs comfort him that its ok to be little

so on saturday roman became upset by something, and usually he can cope. but the thing is, in the last few weeks he has been repressing his littlespace A LOT because he felt like he just got his adult life back, and he throws himself 100% into things

he threw himself into littlespace at first and now he threw himself into adult life and ignored his age dreaming. even when he wanted to he forced himself to keep being grownup - or in his teen headspace if he needed to get out frustration

but this time he couldnt actually help it, he accidentally started feeling really little to cope with his negative emotions. it wasnt even that bad what happened, but its the stick that broke the camels back yknow - basically he had to feed vee at snacktime and she got messy and roman complained she was gross then ppl on the blog called him mean for saying it

so roman was suddenly little, and went to sit with his family bc he didnt want to be alone but he still hid being little. he just stayed silent, even while internally he just kept thinking i want daddy i want my daddy i wanna be held i want mommy to say its all okay

then vee fell asleep in mamas lap and logan took her up to bed, and when he returned to the living room with patton and roman he jokingly asked "so i take it snacktime went well going by the applesauce all over her clothes?"

and romans face immediately crumpled and he started crying

it was so sudden and unexpected and out of character, the caregivers were frozen for a moment as roman desperately hid his face in his hands and folded into himself on the couch

when roman cries its very quiet too, so even though he was close to sobbing he bit his lip hard so he didnt make a sound and was just sniffling and tiny whimpers kept escaping

the caregivers hearts broke a little

logan immediately crouched in front of ro asking "roman what happened? why are you upset sweetheart?"

meanwhile patton jumped up from his chair and quickly scooched over on the couch to be right next to ro and put an arm around him "honey, can you tell us what you need?"

and at that roman just whimpered "daddy" in his super little voice, strained from holding back his cries

"oh little prince" patton cooed sounding heartbroken, he wiggled his free arm under romans legs and shuffled him into his lap in seconds. "shh, it's okay, daddys got you baby"

roman tensed and logan gave patton a stern look at the nickname slip, and patton hurriedly apologized - its just natural for him to use that word

usually roman is a tad insecure about the fact that hes taller than patton when hes in psttons lap bc hes worried it looks weird, but he didnt have the energy to worry this time and just lets his daddy cradle his head to his shoulder and rock him as romans cries got harder to hold back. it felt such a relief to finally be little and let his daddy take care of him, but it was v overwhelming since it was basically involuntary

logan swiftly joined them on the couch, pressing himself right up against patton and rubbing his hand firmly over romans back and shushing him gently and reassuring "good boy. it's okay, let it out. its okay to cry little one" because he knows how embarrassed roman gets about crying, especially when little

but then roman choked through his tears "n-not sposed to be - be l-little!" then sniffled and whimperd again and buried a sob in pattons shoukder

and logan calmly managed to coax him to talk about why, in the same way he coaxed vee into evaluating why she thought diapers werent for her in labd. lots of gentle prodding into why roman answers the way he does, why is he supposed to be big, why is being little bad

patton knew to stay quiet during this process, just squeezing roman to encourage him to answer, and kissing his wet cheek when he says something that makes pattons heart ache

then eventually logan got roman to admit that hes been forcing himself to be bigger because he thought he should be big to not bother the caregivers and to help look after vee and so he is "more of a real grownup" when hes with his friends

the thing is once you manage to break into that well of emotion that romans been repressing, he cant stop it from flowing. so once they reached that conclusion roman just kepts rambling (all while little and stumbling over his words)

"i i been tryna be a big big boy and big brother for vee vee cos shes a baby and needs a big brother... b-but i dont wanna be that big all the time, its too big, i wanna be a little big brother again. too much big"

then patton sighed "oh sweetheart, we know youve been much more grownup recently but we thought it's because you wanted to be big"

" i do!" roman argued loudly, more tears building "b-but little too a-and... and i dunno" he finished in a sob, and patton quickly pulled him closer to his chest and rocked him

logan realised roman is too little to have such a complex discussion about tricky emotions, so he promised that the following day they would all have a big grownup talk about how to help roman find a better balance.

"but for tonight" logan whispered, leaning down and kissing romans head and cupping his jaw gently and looking at him gently "mommy and daddy are going to take care of our sweet little prince. how does that sound, little one?"

romans lip wobbled and he nodded and launched himself into mommy lap to give him a tight hug

so that night logan and patton gave their full attention to taking care of roman and helping him be extra little - they watched disney movies and held their little prince and encouraged his headspace, singing along to the songs and poking roman playfully to get him to giggle and sing along too but much quieter than usual.

patton even reminded roman when to go use the potty, not because roman would ever have an accident but because its another way of showing roman that daddy is taking care of him and to reinforce that younger headspace that ro so clearly needed that night

they were all squished onto the one couch - its big enough for them to spread out but logan and patton sat shoulder to shoulder, with roman laid across pattons lap and his head on logans shoulder. with daddy letting roman play with his fingers as a fidget and logan scritching his nails gently at the base of romans neck which makes him sleepy

and every once in a while, logan would lean down and kiss romans temple so gentle, seemingly randomly but actually its that logan kept thinking about how little he knows about romans mental state recently. and whenever he thought "god i wish i knew what was going on in his head", he would lean down and kiss it in the hopes it plants the thought in romans mind that his parents love him

roman was actually very low energy - usually his littlespace is defined by playfulness and loudness and running and jumping and dancing, but on that specific night he was very quiet, very sleepy, and very very cuddly. he really just needed to feel protected because it was such a vulnerable state for him, being involuntarily little, so just letting his caregivers take full control and take care of him and look after him was exactly what he needed

he would never ever say this to anyone and the caregivers agreed to not tell vee or anyone else, but i think they actually had snacks at one point and roman was just so muted and sleepy and clingy that he didnt wanna let go of daddys hand to get some popcorn even though when patton asked roman admitted he was hungry... so logan offered to feed him, and roman very shyly accepted and let logan put lil pieces of popcorn in his mouth

he thought it was embarrassing, but it actually gave him more energy both because popcorn is yummy and because he found it fun and got kindve giggly - to which patton of course told him he was adorable

after the first movie though vee actually woke up from her nap regressed and the caregivers took it in turns looking after her while the other stayed and cuddled roman extra tight

but soon vee was put in bed for good for the night - roman actually got a little upset again because he assumed since mommy was putting the baby to bed, that meant it was romans bedtime too and he would have to be all alone in his room.

but then logan returned to the living room with the baby monitor in hand and immediately asked "so what movie next, sweetheart?"

bedtime be damned, the caregivers stayed up watching disney films with their little one until he fell asleep snuggled in his mommys lap

just imagine those really gentle vibes when you fall asleep on the couch as a kid and your parent gently wakes you up and leads you up to bed. Exactly like that, patton very gently woke roman up once the credits were rolling like an hour after roman dropped off to sleep

"mmh... daddy.. wha?" roman mumbled sleepily

and patton smiled, happy that roman was still letting himself be little. and of course in that moment he decided there was no way roman was going to sleep alone that night.

"c'mon honey, up up"

roman whined as logan helped push him off his lap and stand up

"i know sweetie. but you can sleep in my bed tonight, isn't that exciting?"

as soon as roman heard that it gave him more motivation to let his daddy hold his hand and carefully lead him upstairs to pattons room while roman is just blinking sleepily and letting his cg take full control and take care of him

logan helps to set up romans njghtlight in pattons room while patton helps roman brush his teeth, and then gives roman one last hug and big soft kiss on his head. "we can talk about it when youre big, but i promise you can be little for as long as you want, ok?"

roman sighed sleepily "ok mommy"

"good night little one, i love you" another forehead kiss

"love you mommy"

and then logan went off to his own bed while patton got him and roman settled in his bed for the night. logan honestly knew he wasnt the best person to take care of roman overnight because he really isnt a cuddly sleeper but roman really is, so he trusted pstton to be the primary caregiver and cuddle roman in bed

meanwhile logan kept vees baby monitor in his room which isnt how it usually goes. usually its in patton room bc patton is a light sleeper and likes to be the one to take care of his baby if she wakes up in the night, but logan took on that job for that night so that patton could focus fully on roman

...

the next day roman was still little but in the playful bouncy way again almost instantly! then when he grew up later in the day the three of them had a serious talk about how to help roman feel better about his littlespace/grownup life balance

logan broke it down into exact hours for roman - they realised that there was 20-25 hours every week where roman had to be grownup for various commitments and responsibilitiea. and the other 148 hours? (ish bc i cant remember the maths lol) logan and patton assured roman he could be little for all of those other hours if he really wanted to be and they would be completely okay with it

and seeing it broken down into numbers and basic stuff really helped roman , he is still going to struggle a little with letting himself be extra little when he needs it, and itll be tricky for him to find a good balance of little vs big because he gets so invested in one headspace so easily, but its backed up by those numbers and by the knowledge that his caregivers really do love to take care of him

#little/big concepts

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shinebrite97 · 4 years ago

Text

Part 6

Read Part 5 here

With one bag under each arm, Mammon's leathery wings fluttered, propelling him through the devildom sky. "Stupid Lucifer sendin' me to the castle. Why the hell is Yuri stayin' there anyway?" He wondered. "What's she got goin' on with Lord Diavolo? And why the hell did he take her out of class today?"

He'd figured he'd come prepared, packing a bag for her with everything Lucifer had instructed him to, and then one for himself. No one was going to keep his human away from him, no matter who they were. He could see the castle below, swooping down and landing at the door to knock. "Mammon," Barbatos said with a steep bow. "Thank you for coming all this way." "Where's Yuri?" He asked. "She is with the young master." He replied. "I can give her a message if you need." "No need for all that," he replied. "Just show me where she and I are stayin' tonight and I'll take it from there." "I beg your pardon?" Barbatos asked. "Ain't I her demon? Ain't I the one Lucifer put in charge of her safety?" He argued defensively. "Just tryna do my job!" "I assure you, Mammon. No harm will come to Yuri while she is here. I believe the Young Master will be keeping her attention until very late into the night. She will have proper rest and nutrition and we will escort her to RAD tomorrow." He bowed politely. "If you'll allow me, I will bring her belongings to her room and I will send her your regards. Have a good evening Mammon." "But…" The door shut with finality, leaving Mammon standing alone and with only one packed bag. "Are you kiddin' me?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"It's the same for all the royal men of my lineage." Diavolo said. "As soon as an heir is old enough to be groomed for the throne, the old king falls into a deep slumber in a world beneath this one, and as soon as the power is transferred, the slumber ends and the old king passes on." "Really?" Yuri asked. "Yes." Diavolo replied. "I suppose that would seem strange to you." Yuri nodded, taking the last cold sip of her tea. Knowing the pot was empty, she instead stretched her arms out over the tome in front of her, tapping her fingernails against a page right over a section of text in archaic latin. "So if the king is just in a deep sleep and not dead, is that just in case the heir can't fulfil the duties of king? And before the heir is ready, the king can rise to lead if needed?" "Correct!" Diavolo beamed. "Very clever, Yuri." "And...if I may ask….how long has your father been in his slumber?" "One thousand years." He replied. "And um….how old are you?" She asked. Diavolo paused, his bright smile dimming as he leaned on the back of the empty chair beside Yuri. "Oh...uhm…" "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that...it's so personal-" "No," he said. "It's quite alright. I'm just...trying to remember," Diavolo closed his eyes, lips parting slightly as he whispered the numbers rising exponentially, pausing to think, before continuing up. "Six thousand sixty-two." He said. "Oh…" her response came out as more of an exhale than a phrase. A stuttered thing that sent his heart into a frenzy as the sudden and unexpected fear of rejection kick-started him into speaking again. "Listen, Yuri. I know I shouldn't have asked you to do this…The differences are so extreme. In comparison-" "I would have thought you were closer to my age," she admitted. "The way you hold yourself, how you talk and act, and all the pranks you've pulled on us since I've returned….it's easy to forget sometimes….but it wouldn't really matter, would it?" Yuri knew she was rambling now, but seeing his golden eyes affix to her, all his attention hovering over her in that soft smile of his, how he instantly sealed his mouth, giving her all the time she needed to organize her thoughts, it made her feel more brazen. Sure, this was the future king of hell, a lord, someone she should fear. But she didn't. It was Diavolo. Her first kind face in this realm. Someone who confided in her, who turned around and gave her attention when she needed it. She nodded, smiling even brighter as she sat up straight, keeping her eyes directly in his. "If I played house with you, or Lucifer, or really anyone here, I'd be severely outranked in age, or power, or experience...but if I have to play a part to help someone advance, I'm glad it's you." "Yuri...are you sure." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and she nodded assent. "You're a great friend, Diavolo. I appreciate you, and I'd like to do whatever I can to help you achieve your goals." "Yuri…" he grinned hugely, sitting down in the empty chair beside her and reached over, brushing a stray piece of brown hair over her shoulder. "I swear...you...the celestial Realm….no….uhm,” Yuri smiled shyly, feeling a tad proud of herself for flustering him like this. “May I…?" He asked. She was confused, only for a moment, when she saw his hands raise, seemingly to either side of her head and he advanced slowly, giving her time to decline. She relaxed her posture, placing all her trust in him and what he was about to do. His arms came around her shoulders squeezing and pulling her closer to his chest. A firm squish and then he eased his grip, still keeping her face to his chest. "I'm afraid I am speechless." He said. "But thank you very much. It means so much more to me than you could ever know." Yuri hummed as she accepted his tight hug, unable to speak with her lips pressed into his uniform robe, but nodded. A hesitant clearing of Barbatos's throat left the two scrambling back, adjusting his clothes and her hair to recover some dignity, only to be met by his smug smile. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But dinner is ready to be served. Shall I bring the plates down here?" "No," Diavolo replied. "It's about time we took a break anyway." He stood up, holding a hand out for Yuri who took it long enough to stand up, and walking beside him as they followed Barbatos up to the dining room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After such an extravagant dinner at Ristorante Six the evening before, Yuri had no idea what to expect with a dinner in the castle. The one good thing was not sharing a kitchen with Solomon this time. They sat at opposite ends of a far-too-long table, separated by a beautifully vintage candelabra, one she hadn't seen the last time she'd visited with the brothers, though knowing how rowdy meals could get with that bunch, she understood why. Barbatos served soup and small plates with a flourish, explaining each plate as he placed them down, pouring wine into glasses before them. Explaining how it would pair with the seasonings, and how it would cut the fats of the meat. While Yuri felt very overwhelmed by the specifics of the meal, Diavolo stayed silent, swirling the wine in his goblet and taking in the vapors as they rose. "Thank you Barbatos." He said. "That will be all." With a bow, he quickly left the room, leaving the two of them alone. Several feet apart, but feeling the lingering touch of their embrace just moments before. "So…" Yuri started. "Yes?" He asked. "It looks delicious." She said. "Barbatos is an artist in the kitchen," he agreed. "And the wine…" "It's a blend that will affect humans as well, so be careful, Yuri." She smiled, taking a sip just big enough to dip her tongue into it cautiously. It was bitter, first, vaporous and zinging her taste buds, enough to make her eyes water, but once the initial shock faded, it was hints of cherries. Sweet and earthy. She never considered herself much of a wine person, but after the first few sips, she grew to like it. Not to mention, it did taste good with the food served. One glass turned into two, and by the time she'd finished it, she felt the edges of her brain growing foggy. "Are you ready to continue with our reading?" He asked. Yuri stretched, rolling her neck and nodded. "Yessir." She said, Diavolo stood up first, walking over the length of the table and once again extending his hand to her. "You sure know how to impress a lady." She said. "Oh...I-" Diavolo blushed, mirroring the heat in her own cheeks as her bold statement. “I um…" she paused. "It's the wine." She giggled. "Social lubricant." "I don't think I've ever heard that before." "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two then…" she smirked. "Maybe we should call it a night instead..." Diavolo replied. "Oh, no, I'm fine." She squeaked. "I'm sorry, Ill drop the jokes." "It's getting late," he said. "I would hate if you were tired tomorrow because I kept you up all night." "Solid argument," she replied. "So are you going to show me to my room now?" "Oh, yes...that's what I'm going to do!" Diavolo walked in front of her, his prominent footfall shaking the sconces on the walls. The air was standing between them now, silent and a bit awkward. "Lord Diavolo…" she said. "I'm sorry….did I make things weird?" "What do you mean, Yuri?" He asked. "With my comments at dinner...and with my rambling…earlier in the underground library." "No…" he said. "I'll admit it caught me off-guard, but not for the reasons you'd think." "Okay…" she paused, trying desperately to gain his attention, to lock her eyes to his. To try to communicate all the things she couldn't bring herself to say out loud. "Thank you, Yuri." He said. "For what?" She asked. "For everything." He smiled. He finally stopped walking outside a sturdy wooden door and turned on his heel to face her. His broad smile took up his whole face, and he brought his hand up, resting it gently atop her head. "You've done more for me in the last few days than anyone has ever wanted to do in all my years...and you’re so willing. I really appreciate it." "It's no problem, Diavolo." "Well here, we are...goodnight Yuri." He opened the door, offering a sweeping gesture with his hand and smiled. She nodded, stepping through the threshold and giving him a small smile. "Goodnight, Diavolo." Her smile lasted until the moment he closed the door, finally alone, she saw the packed bag on the bed with a fresh uniform, her favorite nightgown, her hairbrush and toothbrush and some fancy lotions no doubt packed by Asmodeus. As she slid her DDD out of her pocket, turning it on, she scoffed. Late? She wondered. It's only 8:30. Outside the door, Diavolo finally let out the deep breath he'd been holding, sliding down the length of the door until he landed heavily on his rear, he placed a hand over his chest, hoping to calm the rapid pulse he's developed as he ran mental olympics, trying to make heads and tails of the evening that just transpired

#obey me! shall we date #Obey me!#Obey Me! Diavolo #DiavoloXMC #Fanfiction #friends to lovers #slowburn

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ask-the-riders · 4 years ago

Text

Famine meets Mortem

Idk what this even is, but it's a bit of a train wreck. I tried to cushion some of the slight angst with some fluff toward the end, so yeah ^^"

"Famine?"

The tallest of the group of riders momentarily tensed in surprise, before beginning to relax again. He knew that voice, so he knew he had nothing to worry about. Looking up from the rubiks cube he'd been trying to solve, he offered Conquest a lazy grin, "Yeah? What's up, sunshine?" The female rider smiled at the nickname and hummed, "I have someone I would really like you to meet. I've introduced him to everyone else already, and I didn't wanna leave without making sure you got the chance to meet him, too."

Famine arched a brow bone curiously, "Uhh... ok? Who am I supposed ta meet?" Conquest's smile remained the same as she stepped to the side, revealing a child. The kid's expression very briefly became one of slight panic as his mother stepped aside, no longer concealing him from view, but as he locked gazes with Famine, his panic dulled, and seemed to morph into curiosity as his single visible eye light flickered upward to the rider's head injury.

Conquest hummed softly, her hand gently resting on the child's shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze, "Famine, this is my son, Mortem. And Mortem, this is Famine." The kid looked up at his mother with a look of confusion and she added on, "He's my friend, and I do work with him. He's really nice, I promise." Mortem seemed to accept her words, seemingly unaware of the reaction Famine was having.

Still seated at the kitchen table, Famine's eye light had constricted until it was only a small blue speck, his grin now a taut line. His fingertips had begun to dig into the rubiks cube he held, and he felt his soul begin to race. Children... There was a child here. One who couldn't be more than eight or nine years old. The same age as him... The same age as Tobias. Images of his youngest brother weakly trying to drag himself through the snow flickered in his mind, the sound of his pleas and his sobbing making his nonexistent ears ring.

"S-Sans, brother, please! Please stop, it hurts! Please Sans, I love you, please don't do this!"

Famine curled his hands tighter into the rubiks cube, unphased as it shattered, the individual pieces whizzing in different directions. Mortem flinched at the sudden loud snap, his visible socket widening. Donning a look of uncertainty, he looked up at Conquest and whined, "Mom?... What's going on with him? Is he ok?" Conquest registered the clear look of panic on teammate's face and offered her son a weak smile in an attempt to give him some reassurance, "He'll be ok, sweetie... Sometimes he remembers things that upset him, and he reacts like this. It'll take a bit for him to relax, but I promise, he'll be alright."

"So he's... just really upset right now?..." Mortem's voice lowered a bit, and his brow bones became knit. Conquest hummed in confirmation, and watched as her son seemed to battle with himself for a moment. She glanced between him and Famine and frowned; She hadn't counted on a reaction like this. She'd known about his story and had seen his file, even, but this? She had no way of seeing it coming, and the thought of upsetting her friend made her frown.

Stepping past Mortem, she approached Famine, leaning down to very gently wrap her arms around him. He flinched at the contact, his entire body locking up, and she drew in a deep breath, sending out her magic in the form of soothing pulses in an effort to help calm him as she squeezed her sockets shut; If she focused enough, she might also be able to use her aura to help him, the way Retribution had taught her to as well.

Her body grew a bit warmer to the touch and she let out a soft sigh, murmuring to the other rider, "Famine... I'm not sure what's going on right now. What happened, what's going on in your mind... I don't know. I feel that I'm responsible though, and I'm so, so sorry." Through the nearly overwhelming fear that had hit him so suddenly, Famine very loosely moved an arm, reaching around Conquest to lightly pat her back as he let out a deep sigh of his own, "S'ok, Connie... Ya didn't know. It's not.... it's not your fault." Her aura grew thicker, waves of warmth washing through him and practically drowning him with positivity as she softly whispered, "But what if it was, though?"

Famine drew in a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind as his body began to relax. Countering her worries, he lightly nudged her, "It's not. I promise you, it's not." Her grip on him tightened, and he flinched in surprise as he felt another hand on his arm. His gaze redirected itself, and he stared in surprise as he watched Mortem. The child had gently touched his arm, a look of determination fixed on his face as he began to send out his own pulses of magic, the way his mother had done.

He was trying to help him.

Famine let out a shaky breath, still watching as Mortem's free hand shifted, and he wrapped an arm around Conquest, trying to send pulses of magic to her, too. Famine couldn't stop the words that left his mouth, "K-Kid, hey... what are you doin'? You're gonna hurt yourself if ya keep forcin' out magic like that." Mortem looked up at him, meeting his eye, "Mom said you're upset, and I wanted to help you. Then she got upset, and I wanted to help her too."

Famine's entire disposition seemed to soften; That kindness and desire to help others... He thought back to before the horrendous act he committed, remembering Tobias again. He was starving, losing so much strength that he couldn't move on his own. He couldn't sleep and he cried so much over the way his body hurt. And yet... whenever he'd gotten his hands on a scrap of food, he always shared it with his two elder brothers. He was always concerned for them, even as he was slowly withering away.

Offering a tiny smile, Famine rasped, "Try ta focus your intent more... The more ya focus on it, the bigger the results." Mortem nodded, confused but willing to try what he'd suggested. Breathing deeply, he pushed more of his intent into what he was doing, and Famine felt as though the air had been knocked out of him for a moment; The pulses of magic that Mortem sent out were chilled, almost like the air on a fall morning, when the ground was still covered in a thin layer of frost. It was cool, but warm at the same time, and it confused him, but at it's very core, he could feel genuine concern, and he could feel how hopeful Mortem was that he'd be able to help the two adults.

Famine was brought back to the present moment as Mortem spoke, "Am I doing it right?..." Famine hadn't even noticed the tears that pricked at his sockets until one rolled down his cheekbone, and he wiped it away, "Yeah, kid. You're doin' great." Mortem's sockets widened and he beamed, excitedly nudging his mother, "Mom! Mom! I'm doing it!" Famine frowned as Conquest remained silent, all of her weight now leaning onto him. At the lack of a response, Mortem frowned, "Mom?... Are you ok?..." Connie still remained silent and he began to panic, his eyes wide again in fear, "Mom?! Mom, come on! Say something, Mom!"

Famine's magic honed in on the female rider's soul, and he let out a deep sigh in relief as he felt the soft waves of magic it continued giving off. Scooting back in his chair and standing, he lifted Connie's limp form into his arms, wincing at the dull aching from his spine. Mortem, seeing his mother completely limp and seemingly lifeless, stared at her with wide, fearful eyes. Unable to contain his fear anymore, he began to sob, trying to cover his face with his hands. Well aware of what was probably going through the child's mind, Famine's magic activated, helping support Connie to lessen the strain on his back.

Shifting her in his arms as he began carrying her into the living room, he offered Mortem a hand without thinking, and Mortem latched onto it, walking beside him as they entered the living room. As Famine's magic helped him lower her down onto the couch, Mortem sniffled, his voice soft, "Is she gonna die? Is this because of me?" Now with Connie lying down and not in his arms anymore, Famine sighed, glancing at the child, "Nah, kid, she'll be ok. It's not because a' you." Mortem whimpered, "How do you know?... Maybe I killed her and it's not showing yet. Maybe I used too much magic and hurt her really bad. Maybe she just hasn't dusted yet."

Famine shifted his full attention to Mortem and slowly moved to sit on the floor, offering him a tiny smile and choosing not to answer his question, "Kid, hey... Mortem, listen. She'll be ok, I promise. Ya didn't kill her. She's not dead, and as long as she has you to fight for, I don't think she'll be dustin' anytime soon. She's a tough lady... A little extra magic isn't enough ta hurt her."

Mortem frowned, sniffling again and suddenly blurting out, "What's wrong with her then?!" Famine furrowed his brow bones, "She started doin' some new magic thing with her aura. It was somethin' your uncle was tryna teach her, and I think maybe she just used it a hair bit too much. That's an easy fix though... For now, she just needs ta rest." The child attempted to blink back more tears, "So... She'll really be ok then?..."

The rider nodded and smiled weakly, "Uh huh. Pinky promise, even." Mortem used one of his sleeves to wipe the tears from his face and Famine hesitated another moment before speaking, "How about this... You can go get your uncle, and I can stay here ta keep an eye on her for a little bit? Your uncle's real smart, and he's better with this kinda thing than me." Mortem seemed conflicted, and before Famine had any time to react, he found himself being caught in a surprisingly tight hug, nearly being knocked over in the process.

Awkwardly returning the hug, he gently patted the skeleton child's back a few times, sighing softly. He hadn't counted on having to coexist with anymore kids after what he'd done, and truth be told, the thought of being around kids scared him. He didn't trust himself, and he was worried he could hurt them too easily. Mortem had come out of nowhere, his first appearance almost sending Famine right into a full on panic attack. But now that he had Mortem in his arms, albeit a bit awkward and unexpected, he attempted to swallow his building anxiety.

Maybe... Maybe he could try to give it another shot. Maybe he was different now. He would have to adjust to being around kids whether he wanted to or not, seeing as Connie planned on moving her son in with them eventually. And then there were Pest and War. It was no secret to anyone there that if anybody was the most hormonal, it was probably Pest. With that going on, it was only a matter of time before he turned his poor soulmate into a living, breathing, baby factory.

Famine's thoughts shifted to Retribution, and he stilled. His small, delicate looking lover. The former prince had somehow stolen his heart, just as he'd stolen the shorter skeleton's first kiss. He briefly wondered what Ret might look like with a round, pregnant belly, and if it was possible that he might want kids one day. Something about the idea of Retribution carrying his child was both exciting and terrifying all at once; He wanted it, and damn, did he want it badly... but if they had a child together and he hurt them, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Mortem slipped out of his arms and darted down the hall, and Famine sighed. He hadn't even officially asked Ret to become his life mate yet, so what was he doing, thinking about having a family with him? He shook his head, trying to disperse the thoughts; Of all the times he was grateful that his partner couldn't read minds, this was probably one of the most recent. If Ret was capable of reading minds, he would've likely had some choice words for Famine right now. Famine knew that whatever he'd spout off would be his attempt at hiding his ever-growing embarrassment, and he couldn't help but smile faintly as he pictured that beautiful cyan blush on his partner's face.

Maybe someday, they could have a family together. Maybe after he learned to trust himself again. He wasn't sure how long that would be, but that was fine. Famine was a patient guy, and if he had to wait, he would.

#writing #famine.exe #conquest.exe #morty.exe #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au

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the-l-spacer · 4 years ago

Link

Summary: Lloyd Allen is sick and alone at his house. This is unacceptable.

Written for Day 7 of Shaperaverse week, for the prompt ‘Family, Home’ - and is a continuation of the theatre kids au in chapter 1! I had a blast writing for this event. Thank you for reading!!

Lloyd Allen is sick. Like, sick sick. Not the sort where he gets a runny nose and maybe a hoarse throat that clears up in a day.

No, this is the everything-at-once, Chernobyl-nuclear-fucking-meltdown-anthropomorphised kind of sick. He’s hot (and not in the good way that, as Kelis once put it, brings all the boys to the yard). His throat feels like someone attempted to make him swallow hot control rods (to continue the Chernobyl metaphor). About every facial orifice is leaking steadily. Looking at himself in the mirror is an experience akin to staring at the Elephant’s Foot.

To put it sparingly, he feels like shit.

And, he laments, lying on his side on the living room couch, today is the absolute worst day to fall sick.

Through half open eyes, he gazes at the clock hung on the wall, — an old-fashioned thing circled with Roman numerals, because everything about his dad is old fashioned, a trait that passed from father to son — ticking steadily to 10am, when rehearsal is slated to start.

He briefly considers pushing himself off the couch, wrapping himself in a warm coat, and going anyways. After all, they’re just starting to rehearse Janissary in earnest, having almost memorized the scripts and choreography and blocking, and it physically pains him to be absent just when the real work is about to begin.

On the other hand, he can’t have the entire cast be bedridden because of him.

Mulling over his choices, he doesn’t remember when exactly he blacked out, only to be woken up again by the vibrating of his phone on the floor next to him.

Groaning, he reaches out his hand to answer it, and the very action feels like moving through slow, thick honey. He manages, but by the time he brings the phone to his face, the call ends.

The too-bright display tells him he missed a call from Asha.

A slight smile crosses his face. Of course she’d be the first to call him.

He dials back, and she picks up right away. “Lloyd?” Her voice is high and hurried. “Thank goodness you picked up. Me and the others are so worried. Are you all right?”

Try to sound like nothing’s wrong. “I’m fi-achOO!”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh Lloyd, you’re sick?”

“That- that much is obvious, Asha.” He forces the words out through a stuck throat, and is too busy cringing as sneeze-gunk runs down his face (gross) to regret his curt tone.

She sucks in a breath. “Sorry, sorry, god I’m such an asshole. Is it a fever?”

He wants to tell her that the asshole is him, that she shouldn’t waste her breath on someone as ungrateful as he, but all he manages is a short, “Yeah.”

“And from the sound of it, a sore throat and a stuffy nose as well. Do you have a glass of water somewhere nearby? Do you feel well enough to see the doctor?”

“No, and… no.”

“Lloyd- “

“Sorry.”

“- stop- stop hating yourself for one second. I was going to say I can come over right now, if you want me to.”

That’s enough to snap him awake. “NO!” He pauses, wiping his nose. “No. Continue rehearsing, take over for me. I want everyone’s lines fully memorized by next week.”

Now it’s Asha’s turn to be the naysayer of the conversation. He listens, with some grim satisfaction, as she splutters on the phone. “M-me? You want me to be- bu-“

“I’m sick, remember?” He coughs once, for emphasis. “You have to do what I say.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll do my best, and I’ll let the others know you can’t make it. In the meantime, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yyyyes?”

“And you’re sure you’re getting enough water? Did you take a panadol? I could get some soup delivered to you-“

The rest of the conversation passes in a blurry haze. He vaguely remembers telling Asha to very much not waste precious rehearsal time by ordering food for him, and was it a fever-induced hallucination, or did he tell David to take over as narrator? Did he comfort the fraught third year until he no longer could, Asha finally stepping in to tell him to rest?

Well that he can certainly do. As Asha says something about sleeping in a cold place, he is already drifting off on the couch. He watches the (decidedly not cold) living room’s ceiling fan turn lazy circles, he murmurs a half-conscious ‘I love you’ to Asha, and he finally surrenders to unconsciousness.

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

“Lloyd? Are you there?”

What….

Lloyd stirs, and immediately regrets doing so. His hair sticks to the nape of his neck, and a layer of awful post-nap sweat coats his skin. Yet, despite the warm, stuffy air, he’s shivering, curling into himself, trying to figure out if the knocks on the door are figments of his fevered imagination.

“I think he’s still asleep.” The voices he hears are muffled, but definitely there. Is that David?

“Nothing else for it, we gotta pick the lock. I can use my hairpin.”

“Jill, NO!” His ears pick up Asha’s shrill soprano.

Michael’s telltale drawl comes next. “Doesn’t Lloyd keep a key outside the house somewhere? Was it the doormat, or the flowerpot…”

Lloyd’s eyes drift closed once again, until…

“LLOYD!!!” Two blurs bound toward him, but are quickly yanked back.

“Don’t crowd him! He’s way too warm as is.”

Lloyd rasps, “Asha... ? And Jill and Michael a.. And David? What are you all doing here?”

He feels himself being lifted, bridal style, and pressed against a sturdy chest, can feel the vibrations as Michael speaks. “We’re here’ta take care of our favourite stage manager, of course!”

“But.. you.. Rehearsals?”

“Done and dusted,” David says, hovering behind Michael as he carries Lloyd into the bedroom, depositing him gently on his soft mattress. “It went… not terribly, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Pfft, Davey here’s bein’ waaay too modest. As you predicted, he makes a pre-tty awesome narrator.”

David opens his mouth to protest, but Michael shushes him. “Go, set up the Switch so our boy Lloyd has somethin’ to entertain himself with once he’s feelin’ better.”

The obliging theatre techie in David wins out over his self-deprecating side, and he obediently trots off, leaving Michael in the room with a rather overwhelmed Lloyd.

“Don’t lie,” Lloyd begins, “was he really…”

“Yes.” Michael fishes out a thermometer from his backpack and takes Lloyd’s temperature. “Woof, 38 degrees. You’re burnin’ up. Aaanyways, David’s a little nervous, sure, I’ll let Asha fill you in on all the specific details, but he’s got potential. A loootta potential.”

Lloyd lets out a breath. “Good.”

“Now less talkin’, more tryna’ get better soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lloyd gives a small nod.

The other boy pats his arm, and leaves Lloyd, giving room for Jill to breeze in, pushing cups of honey lemon and hot herbal tea and instructing him to drink, opening the windows to let the cool spring air in, and twining small flowers around his shelves and bedposts, before finally pulling his rolling study chair over to his bedside.

“Asha’s in overdrive,” she says conspiratorially, “been freaking out ever since the call. She tried to hide it, obviously, but we could tell. She’s, like, super worried about you, so real talk. Are you okay?”

The chamomile tea warms his throat as he drinks, and he finds his voice flowing freer than before. “I’m all right, really. Some irresponsible delinquent in my lit class came in with a flu, which no doubt passed on to me.”

“But you’ve never been sick before, at least, you haven’t been like the entire time we’ve known you!”

“When my immune system is down, it’s down, I suppose.”

Jill’s face pulls in a sympathetic pout. “Oof, that’s rough. Least it’s not anything serious. If it was something serious, you’d tell us, right?”

Lloyd must have paused too long, because Jill leans forward with sudden seriousness, necklaces adorned with tiny silver trinkets dangling in front of his face. “We care about you. I know Michael and I like to give you grief, but we really do. We’ve been friends for years now, and if something happened, it’d be like I lost my- my brother or something!”

His face heats. “Jill… I... of course. Of course I’d tell you. I care for you all greatly as well, even if I don’t show it.” His hand finds Jill’s. “Thank you, for saying that.”

She gives his hand a squeeze. “Just saying what we’re all thinking. I’m gonna go play Smash with Michael and David. You,” she stands up, tapping his shoulder lightly, “rest.”

“I will.”

She leaves Lloyd, a little confused at the interaction, though all that falls away when Asha enters the room, a bowl of hot ginseng chicken broth in hand.

“I’m sorry for being so curt on the phone, just now,” he blurts out.

Asha waves his apology off. “Water under the bridge. Eat up.”

Time passes, Lloyd savouring spoonfuls of soup as Asha sponges him with cold water, giving him a play-by-play of their rehearsal. The details remain hazy in his mind, though Lloyd does chuckle when his friend tells him of David forgetting he was so far downstage that he almost missed his cue and fell right off the raised platform, saved only when Michael yanked him backwards.

“That.. certainly explains why his shirt is hanging off of him a little looser than before.” Lloyd remarks.

Asha sweeps the finished bowl of soup from his grasp, replacing it with a glass of water and a Panadol. “Interesting that even with a fever, you notice how David’s shirt fits on him.”

It’s lucky that Lloyd only has the glass raised to his lips, else he would have done a spit-take. “Wh- what?!?? Who said anything about me staring at David’s shirt?! It’s just a- a casual observation, anyone would notice it!”

Asha grins. “Naturally, naturally.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Nothing!” She says breezily.

Lloyd stares at Asha, currently sending a text on her phone to someone. From the living room outside, he hears Jill snort.

Ordinarily, he would press, but as is, his information-overloaded brain begins to shut down once again.

“Sure,” he says finally.

Asha looks at him with surprise. “That it? You’re letting me off that easy?”

“ ‘m tired,” he simply says, sinking lower into his sheets. “I’ll ask again if I remember.”

Asha busies herself switching on the AC, drawing the curtains so they don’t let in the late afternoon sun. “Sleep, and properly this time, okay? We’ll be waiting outside for you once you wake up.”

“M’kay.” His eyes are already half-closed, watching Asha hover in the doorway.

“I love you, Lloyd.”

I really did say that on the phone, huh.

Nothing else for it, then. “Love you too.”

When Lloyd wakes, his senses come alive one at a time. He feels better than he did in the morning, the medicine doing its work so he’s no longer covered in a cold sweat. His nose is no longer stuffy, and the room’s cool air is permeated with the faint scent of chrysanthemum.

He sits up. It’s properly dark, now, and he can hear faint voices outside.

Gingerly, Lloyd pads out of his room, peeks around the entrance to the living room, and sees his friends, crammed together on the couch, whisper-screaming as Princess Peach beat the shit out of Link on the TV screen.

It’s hard to tell who it was who notices him standing in the shadows first, but it’s David who says, “Guys, Lloyd’s up!”, followed by a responding chorus of cheers from his friends.

His friends.

Is it his fever, or is the warmth he feels rushing through him as they make room on the couch coming from someplace else entirely?

Is him resting his head on David’s shoulder a result of fatigue, or… something else?

And is David tilting his head so it rests on his in turn coming from the same place too?

Later, they sit at the kitchen table, eating soupy noodles ordered in by Michael, and Lloyd wonders if it's the hunger from his previously light meals, or if the food, eaten as he sits surrounded by his friends, is the best he’s ever had?

Is it the thinking of his sickness-muddled mind, or is his house, filled with inane chatter and loud, boisterous laughter, so unlike the cold, quiet days spent with his father, more like a home to him than it ever was before?

And is it his imagination, or is this small group of theatre nerds truly his family? Family he never had, family that disappeared when his mother left?

Even after his father does return, frowning at the mess and noise, and his friends sheepishly clear the takeout boxes and unplug the switch and wash the dirty plates and cups, finally bidding him forlorn goodbyes and get-well-soons, the thoughts don’t go away.

Lloyd pops another pill and heads back to bed, sending a short ‘thank you’ in the main cast and crew group chat, switching off his phone as he sees the wall of responding texts and stickers flooding in.

He settles his sheets back around him, catches sight of evidence that the afternoon and evening truly happened - flowers adding a splash of colour to the space, a scribbled ‘gws’ post-it from David on his bedside table.

Lloyd Allen goes back to sleep with a small smile. After all, the sooner he gets better, the sooner he can return to the theatre. The sooner he can see his family. The sooner he can come home.

#new albion #shaperaverse #paul shapera #sorry i cranked this out at like 1 am and dont have the energy to edit it so #here take it #prompt week was kinda intense but like. fun! never wrote this much in such a short span of time b4 dlkjfas kinda proud tbh

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the-walking-trash-can · 5 years ago

Text

Love Bites

So this is mad weird because I literally haven’t posted in four years, but...hi? Uhh I saw that I had this in my drafts and I figured I’d post to see how many people actually still care about TWD fanfictions bc if I get a good response, I guess I’ll start writing again!?

________________________

You slowly walked back and forth across the length of the room, bouncing the sleepy baby girl in your arms. "C'mon, Judy. We both know you're ready for bedtime," you whispered, where as she began to whine fussily and eventually started to cry. "Oh, okay! Here we go..." you shifted her so you held her close to your chest with her head on your shoulder and hummed a lullaby. Judith’s head began to loll to the side.

Unknown to you, your boyfriend was watching from the doorway lovingly, smiling at how something as sweet and simple as your voice could put his little sister to sleep. As you leaned over and laid Judith in her crib, Carl wrapped his arms around your middle and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his long hair tickling you.

"Hi," you sighed pleasantly. You could feel his lips form as smile as they were pressed into your neck.

"You're so good with her," he said softly. "It reminds me of how much I love you both," You shifted yourself in his strong arms so you were facing him, noses nearly touching.

"I love you too, Carl." Slowly, he brought his lips to yours for a sweet and short kiss that made your heart stutter in a sudden jolt of emotion. Carl moved away, but you leaned back in for a more passionate kiss that he responded to by firmly gripping your hips. You placed your hands on his broad chest and clenched his grey shirt in your fists.

"We should take this to my room," Carl breathed, eyes heavy lidded and glazed over with a newfound lust. You nodded hurriedly and allowed the only boy you've ever loved to lead you to his bedroom across the hall. Once inside, Carl closed the door, cupped your face in his hands and smashed his lips into your own passionately. Automatically, your arms wound themselves around your boyfriend's thick neck tightly and you shivered with excitement as you felt his hands trace your curves and then rest at your backside. As your kissing session gradually became more zealous, Carl walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You allowed your body to fall back naturally, giggling when Carl fell on top of you ungracefully. He chuckled briefly, allowing you to see the crinkle in his eye before his mouth, slightly parted, descended onto yours. His tongue traced your lips and you gladly allowed him access. Unable to help yourself, your awakened body pressed itself against Carl, earning a carnal growl that came deep from his chest.

Face flushed pink, Carl moved his desire-drenched lips to the junction between your neck and jawline, kissing there tenderly before applying pressure and introducing teeth. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of his teeth clenching onto your sensitive skin and sucking, flicking his tongue over the tender mark. He repeated this tantalizing advance in numerous places on your neck, collarbone and - much to your pleasure - the tops of your breasts. All the while, your fingers remained threaded between Carl's brown hair eagerly. He was creating a masterpiece and you, were his blank canvas. By the time Carl was satisfied with his art, there were red and purple marks all over the upper part of your body. You didn't know how you were going to cover them up, but quite frankly you didn't care. You gazed into Carl's enticing blue eye with an overwhelming sense of adoration and love.

"That was nice," you exhaled. He grinned brightly.

"Yes, it was. Now everyone will know that you're mine!" you shrieked with joy as Carl peppered your face with endless kisses. _______________________________

The sun beat down on you mercilessly and you paused from your digging to wipe the sweat off of your forehead. You looked over at Rosita with jealousy as she worked relentlessly in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top. That could be you, but instead you were completely covered with a grey hoodie (Carl's grey hoodie, to be in fact) in order to hide your love bites from everyone in Alexandria.

"Hey, Mini-Me," Daryl greeted, hooking an arm around your neck and rubbing his fist into your head. He insisted on calling you Mini-Me ever since he learned that you knew exactly how to use a crossbow and had a strange love for pig's feet. He loved you like a little sister.

"Daryl!" you protested. "Come on, that's just mean!"

"Not as mean as ya breath! Woo, girly!" he teased, taking a step back and waving a hand in front of his nose.

"Shut up!" you giggled, fully well knowing that your breath did not stink.

"Watchu wearin'? You're gonna get a heatstroke," he commented, looking at the hoodie you wore. You blushed and shifted your hair from one side of your neck to the other, a nervous habit. Just as you were about to give a half-assed answer, Daryl suddenly spoke up again.

"What're those marks on ya neck?" he demanded. You gasped and hurried to fix your hair back, but it was too late. Daryl grabbed your head and tilted it to the side, inspecting your neck that was littered with love bites. "The hell are these?" he exclaimed.

"Daryl, the girl is fifteen. She's allowed to have some fun with her boyfriend," Rosita said, ceasing her digging to watch the scene unfold.

"The hell she's not!" he growled. "You crazy, girl? You tryna have another Judith?"

"What? Daryl, no!" you shrieked; people were starting to look now and you wanted to die from embarrassment.

"What you wearin' under this?" he asked, face sour. "A-a tank top-"

"Take the hoodie off."

"What?"

"Take it off, or I rip it off," he threatened darkly. Humiliated, you took the jumper off, leaving you in a spaghetti-strap top, exposed for everyone to see.

"Jesus, Y/N!" Rosita gasped, looking at your exposed hickeys. The tops of your breasts, your neck, your arms and, although it was thankfully concealed, your stomach.

"Come with me," Daryl grunted, grabbing your wrist and tugging you along.

"Where are we going?" you squeaked, holding the sweater to your chest. He didn't answer. Instead, Daryl lead you up to a group of adults, consisting of Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne and - dear God help you - Rick.

"Hey, Daryl, Y/N," Rick greeted, eyes lingering on you for a little while longer. As matter of fact everyone was looking at you.

"Ya'll see this?" Daryl growled, tugging on your arm.

"What kind of bugs were those?" Glenn wondered aloud. Maggie started to laugh.

"I think those were love bugs," Sasha replied, also chuckling.

"Daryl, could you not?" you asked, feeling anger replace your embarrassment.

"You lost your damn mind?" Rick asked you, shaking his head. "You want to have a baby at fifteen?"

"NO! God, why is everyone saying that? Carl and I didn't do anything!"

"Is that why you're black, blue and purple all over?" Michonne inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Y/N?" Carl was walking up to the group of teasing and scolding adults, eyes wide. You looked at him pleadingly.

"There's the culprit!" Maggie giggled.

"Care to explain, son?" Rick asked pointedly, nodding at you. Carl's eyebrows drew close together.

"Why do you have to humiliate her like this?" he cried. "Yeah, Y/N and I did some stuff last night-"

"Don't say it like that!" you groaned.

"-But that doesn't mean parading her around town like some sort of object!" he finished.

"Put the damn hoodie back on," Daryl grunted, and you quickly obliged.

"Did you at lease use protection, Carl?" Carol asked sweetly, though it was clear that she was just trying to prolong the humour to the situation.

"No," Carl said between gritted teeth. "Because we didn't fuck!"

"Carl!" Rick shouted.

"What? I'm being honest!" he said earnestly.

"Alright, we'll leave you two alone." Michonne said. "But don't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, we got it." Carl grumbled, taking your hand and leading you away. "I'm so sorry that happened to you," he apologised.

"Don't be," you sighed. "It's Daryl. Of course he was going to react like that."

"Yeah, but I should have given you hickeys in less exposed places." Carl reasoned.

"Well, the whole point was to let them know that I'm yours." you argued. "I think the message got across,"

"Ya think?" Carl snorted, making you throw your head back in laughter. Your family may have been incredibly overbearing and annoying, but at least they cared. That was one thing a lot of kids wished for nowadays.

#the walking dead #x reader #carl grimes #rick grimes #daryl dixon #carl grimes x reader #fanfiction

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turtle-steverogers · 6 years ago

Text

harsh words

angstangstangst

warnings: fighting, smoking mentions, past implied abuse

ship: sprace and brotherly jack/spot

editing: nuh uh and it’s kinda eh

Race’s legs carried him quickly up the stairwell of his apartment complex, phone held in an iron grip in his hand. Spot had texted him twenty minutes ago, saying that there was an emergency and he needed to get home as quickly as possible. The message was alarming to say the least and Race had hastily handed the class he was teaching off to Albert in favor of rushing home.

Anticipation coursed through his veins as he unlocked the door to the apartment, scared of what he might find on the other side.

“Spot, honey, where are-” he cut himself off when he noticed Spot sitting on the sofa, ankle propped on his knee as he idly scrolled through his phone.

He didn’t seem in any immediate danger and Race frowned, “What’s going on?”

Spot looked up, eyes tired and unsettlingly devoid of emotion as he calmly clicked off his phone and placed it on the arm of the couch. His movements were slow and calculated as he reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small white box.

Race swallowed, feeling oddly trapped as Spot tossed the box onto the coffee table, turning to look at Race with raised eyebrows.

“Where’d you get those?” Race asked, voice shaking as he kept his gaze glued on his precious cigarettes.

“You tell me,” Spot’s voice was even, but the anger and disappointment was easily noticeable in his tone, “You told me you quit, Antonio.”

“I did-”

“Obviously not,” Spot scoffed.

Race huffed, anger replacing the fear in his stomach, “I tried to quit, it was just in case.”

“Just in case, huh?” Spot stood, the anger in his expression mirroring Race’s gut, “then why was half the box gone?”

Race bit his lip, eyes flicking to the side, “I mighta messed up a few times,” he murmured.

“I few times?” Spot snapped, “That was more than a few fucking times.”

Race rolled his eyes, shouldering past Spot and kicking off his shoes, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though,” Spot insisted, stepping back into Race’s peripheral as he shrugged off his jacket to hang on a hook, “‘Cause not only did you fucking lie to me about quitting, but you’re fucking killing yourself in the process.”

“It’s my fucking body, Sean,” Race bit, throwing his jacket down, “You don’t get to tell me what to do with it!”

“I do when you’re destroying it, you idiot, I don’t understand why you can’t get it through your thick fucking skull-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Race shouted, anger surfacing in his words, “Literally just shut up, I don’t get you’re always on my fucking case. Can’t you fuck off for one fucking-”

“Stop yelling at me,” Spot whimpered, taking a step back. Race froze, eyes narrowing at his sudden change in demeanor. His eyes were screwed shut, chest heaving as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Race could see his hands shaking and his anger quickly dissipated as concern took its place, “Sean, what-”

Spot shook his head, backing up a few more paces before rushing to their shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Race stood, dumbfounded in the middle of the living room. He’d never seen Spot react like that to anything. He was always collected, even in the most trying situations- never letting anything get through to him.

Race forced himself to walk to their bedroom, reaching down to try the doorknob. It was locked. Figures.

He lifted his arm, numbly rapping his knuckles against the wood, “Sean, open up.”

A loud sob sounded from inside the room and Race felt his stomach drop. Spot never cried. What the fuck was happening?

He tried knocking again, this time with a little more force, “Spot, can you please let me in?” Desperation leaked into his voice as he tried, to no avail, to open the door again.

A panicked lump rose in Race’s throat as Spot’s cries became steadier. He slid down the length of the door, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressed against it.

“Sean, I’m sorry,” his tone was begging, “Let me in, I want to help you.”

A knock at the apartment door brought Race to his feet and he forced himself to walk away from the bedroom to open it.

“Jack, what?” Jack was standing on the other side, looking like he’d run all the way from his apartment- which he probably had.

“Where is he?” Jack demanded. Something in his expression sent a chill down Race’s spine and he stepped out of the way to let Jack in.

“Uh, he’s in the bedroom, but he’s not answering me-”

“Of course he fucking isn’t,” Jack snapped, “you fucked him up.”

Race cocked his head, “Jack, I don’t-”

Jacked whirled around, anger flashing in his eyes, “You really never fucking think before you do, do you? Did it ever fucking cross your mind how fucking scary it must have been to be yelled at after what he went through?” he shook his head, composing himself, “Just..give me a minute,” he waved a hand at Race, before walking to his and Spot’s bedroom.

Race watched as Jack knocked on the door, muttering something incomprehensible to Spot on the other side. A moment later, the door opened and Jack slipped inside, leaving Race alone.

He collapsed on the couch, overwhelming guilt causing his legs to give out under him. He lowered his head into his hands, trying to swallow the tears that threatened to engulf him. He didn’t fucking get to cry, this was his fucking fault.

He pulled out his phone, gripping his hair tightly to ground himself as he pulled up Albert’s contact.

Albert picked up the call a moment later, “Yo,” he sounded worried, “What’s up? Everything alright?” “Not really,” Race winced as his voice cracked, “Is class over?” “Yeah,” Albert said, “I’m in the breakroom, what’s wrong?”

“Spot, uh, Spot found my cigarettes-”

“I thought you quit.” Albert said, slowly.

“I tried,” Race swallowed, “Listen, that’s not the point. So like, we got into a fight, yeah? And things were getting heated and he flipped out and now he’s locked in our room with Jack and he won’t talk to me,” he paused, sighing, “I don’t know what I did but I could hear him crying and I don’t know what to do.”

Albert didn’t answer for a moment and Race pinched the bridge of his nose, “Al?”

“Sorry, I’m thinking,” Albert said through the line, “How uh,” he trailed off for a moment, “How heated did you guys get?”

Race shrugged, although Albert couldn’t see him, “I don’t know, pretty ugly?”

A beat, “Did you yell at him?”

Race scrunched his eyebrows, “Yeah, but I mean we were both mad.”

Albert went quiet, thinking for a few more seconds before, “He was in foster care in high school, right?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Do you,” Albert clicked his tongue, backtracking, “Maybe, like, whatever reasoning he had to be put into foster care fucked him up? And, like, you shouting rubbed him the wrong way?”

Race felt the blood drain from his face and he straightened his back, a sick feeling spreading throughout his body.

“Oh my god,” He breathed, “You’re right, I bet that’s it. God, I’m awful, oh my god.”

“You didn’t know,” Albert said, softly.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’ta shouted in the first place,” Race shook his head, mad at himself, “He was just tryna look out for me, Jesus.”

“Yeah, we are talking about the fuel to this fight later,” Albert said, firmly, “You were supposed to be done smoking, Racer.”

Race sighed, “Albert, please, not now?”

“Fine,” They lapsed into uncomfortable silence, “Are you okay?”

Race scoffed, “I mean, I’m fine, I guess. This whole thing was my fucking fault so it doesn’t really matter,” a moment later, the door to the bedroom opened and Jack poked his head out, beckoning Race over, “Yo, Jack’s calling me. I’ll catcha later, Al, thanks.”

“Alright,” Albert said, “I’m here for you, dude.”

Race hung up the phone, pocketing it as he crossed over to Jack.

“He’s calmer,” Jack snipped, “But I’m gonna stay with him,” he thrust a blanket into Race’s hand, “Take the couch for tonight.”

Race nodded, wordlessly walking away, dejection and shame causing his shoulders to sag. He set up a small nest for himself on the couch, turning on the TV and mulling over the night’s events until he fell into a fitful sleep.

XXX

“Jack, lay off,” Spot’s scratchy voice came from the bed, where Race could now see he was sitting, eyes puffy and legs drawn up to his chest. He’d woken up early to Jack telling him that Spot was ready to talk. Jack had finally let him into his bedroom, but not before warning him that if he ‘pulled anymore shit, he’d be at Albert’s for the week’.

Jack shook his head and lowered himself into the beanbag chair they kept in the corner of their room.

Race sat on the edge of the bed, trying to formulate his thoughts, but all that came out was, “I’m really fucking sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Spot said, sincerely, “I’m still mad at you for the smoking thing, though.”

Race hung his head, picking at a thread on the bed, “I know.”

The room went quiet, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

Race heard Spot take a measured breath and he looked up, “My dad was a drunk shit.”

Race had been expecting an explanation of this sort, but it still felt like someone had taken a hammer to his ribs upon hearing it.

“I don’t really feel like talking about it all right now,” Spot sounded exhausted and utterly defeated, “I’m too fucking tired for that, but I never really bounced back from his shit and hearing people raise their voices, especially men, scares the shit outta me, so for future situations,” he scratched his head, discomfort written on his face as he glanced to Jack, who gave him an encouraging nod, “Could you...not?”

“Absolutely,” Race said, immediately, “I’m really sorry I shouted, I had no right to, anyway. I shouldn’t have lied about quitting and I shouldn’t have taken my embarrassment out on you.”

Spot nodded, “No, you shouldn’ta.”

“I’m sorry,” Race said, genuinely.

“I forgive you,” Spot said, reaching out and squeezing Race’s hand, “Hug?”

“If that’s alright?”

“‘Course,” Spot smiled, pulling Race in and wrapping his arms around his neck. Race melted into his arms, reciprocating the hug with equal amounts of fervor.

“Are we okay?” He mumbled into Spot’s neck.

“Yes, we are,” Spot answered, “But we need to talk about your smoking.”

Race groaned, “Can we just sleep for now?”

“Absolutely.”

Jack stood awkwardly, “I’ll, uh, yeet outta here now, bye guys.”

“Bye, Jack.”

“Bye, Jackie, thank you!”

“No prob, Spottie. Bye, Racer,” the door closed behind him and Race and Spot shared a soft kiss before dozing into a peaceful sleep.

this took me longer than usual im so tired

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @thatpoorguysheadisspinning @tongue-blep-tommy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend

@auspicioustarantula

@faithmil

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundnewsies

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty

#newsies fic #newsies #spot conlon #sprace #racetrack higgins #sad bois #poor spottie #he a scared boi #oof #sorry yall #this is eh #also i have lines due tomorrow that i def dont have memorized so wish me luck

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thegangismyfamily · 6 years ago

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28. “How Drunk Was I?” // Two Bit Drabble

Warnings: Angsty,cheating,crying, breakup, a bit of violence, and swearing

You threw your head back laughing, and Two-Bit smiled cheekily at you. He was always so sheepish when he made you laugh, and his cheeks would flush the most reddish tint when you would catch him admiring you when you laughed. You squeezed his hand that was intertwined with yours as you approached the house with booming music and bright lights. Two-Bit was taking you to one of Tim Curtis’ parties.You were a bit nervous, not because you had never been to a party before, but because Two-Bit was notorious for getting hammered at these parties.Every story you’ve heard of him coming to these types of parties consisted of him excessively drinking, wrecking the beer pong table when he would lose, and yeah, more drinking. You’ve dealt with drunk Two before,so you had no doubt that you could get him home, you were just nervous that he’d pass out before you could get him off the lawn.

You shook the nervous and invading thoughts from your head and tried to loosen up. You knew you were the designated person to get you both home, so you wouldn’t be drinking much, but you also wanted to have a good time. You two walked up the lawn passing couples making out, a few of them were puking their souls out on the curb, and a couple boys were playing hand games. You giggled at their drunken state and followed Two up to the front door. You gaped as he opened the door and you were suddenly overwhelmed with earshatteringly loud music, and a jumbling of shouting. You turned to look at Two and you could see the excitement in his eyes ignite. You smiled and told him to go have fun and he dashed into the crowd of people and B-lined it for the drinks.You slowly made your way past the suffocating crowd of people and hot air and into the kitchen. You grabbed a drink and downed it quickly, to quench your hydration and your nerves. You grabbed another and opened the back porch door and stepped back out into the cool night air. There were a few people outside, but you ignored them as you sat on the porch swing and enjoyed the music and your own company.

It isn’t long before Tim comes out to the back porch. You smile and jump into your best friends arms as though you hadn’t seen him just a day ago. He rolls his eyes at your goofy affection and sits on the bench with you, sparking a conversation. You slip off your shoes and lay your head comfortably on his shoulder as you embrace each other’s presence. It feels as though hours have passed but when you glance down at your watch, you see it’s only been about half an hour.

“I should go check on Two, make sure he’s okay, I’ll be right back,” you grunted as you pulled yourself off the chair.

You wandered inside, standing on your tiptoes to find your rusty haired boyfriend. When you couldn’t find him in the living room, you made your way upstairs,still calling out for your boyfriend.Your heart started to feel heavy in your chest as you walked around upstairs. You weren’t stupid,you knew this is where all hookups happened, and you’d rather find him on the front lawn passed out then up here. You peeked into the bedrooms and bathroom, yelling at any couples who were trying to get their rocks off in Tim’s house.

You finally reached the last door upstairs and so far, you had failed to find your boyfriend. You took a deep breath before opening the door, letting out a sign of relief when you found one of your school’s head cheerleaders sprawled naked on the bed. You walked towards her and jerked her shoulder a bit to wake her. She sat up with a squeal, her eyes bloodshot, and hair matted on the side of her head.

“Out, come on, up. Knock out on the patio but not up here, let’s go,” you nagged. You didn’t understand how some people could be so confident enough to sleep around in someone else’s house and the just lie there without a care in the world. She slowly slipped off the bed and stumbled around the room for her clothes. You groaned softly to yourself as you heard the toilet in the connected bathroom, flush. You walked towards the cracked bathroom door and swung it open.

“Come on, out. And don’t let me find any used cond-”

His stormy grey eyes slowly rise to meet yours, and the alcohol has made them cloudy, but still transparent enough to see the guilt settle in his face. Your palms grow hot as you grind your fingernails into their center, praying that it’ll snap you back to reality and you and Two would still be sitting outside on the lawn, waiting to enter this nightmare. He was ass naked, with hickeys spotting his chest. You stare at his tussled hair and flushed cheeks, subconsciously hoping for him to lunge forward and kiss away the fear that’s embraced your heart, while also wishing for him to fall through the floor because the last thing you want to do tonight is stare into the eyes that made you believe you were loved by the very man behind those eyes.

You feel yourself snap out of the trance as he belches and within seconds the guilt has faded from his face and falls to his knees, puking up the contents of his stomach into the pearl toilet. You feel your emotions slam into your chest and you stumble back. It’s too hot. All of a sudden it’s too hot and stuffy and your eyesight becomes blurry and you’re rushing down the halls, but you can’t feel your bare feet slapping against the wooden floor.

You’re pushing through the crowd on the stair when you run smack dab into the Curly’s chest. He glances down at you, about to say a snide remark, when he sees the tears pouring down your face. He places a hand on your cheek, staring at you curiously, and placing a protective arm around your shoulder as he leads you outside. Your wet cheeks cool down as you escape the humid atmosphere and step into the night sky. You gasp for breath and Curly places two hands on your shoulders trying to ground you. When the lump in your throat has finally cleared, you pull yourself into his arms, momentarily shocking him. He wraps his arms around you as you cry into his chest, blubbering about what you saw. Curly’s chest rumbles lightly as he chuckles at your incoherent ramblings. You stare up at him with watery eyes, and a small pout on your lips.

“I’m sorry, I really am, but doll, I ain’t got a clue what ya tryna say,” he admits. You giggle at yourself and his sheepish face. Your giggle slowly manifests itself into a full blown cackle. He’s smiling at you uneasily, but you can see the timidness in his eyes. You hear the back door open again, and you turn to see Tim with his arms crossed.

“Where’ve ya been? Did you find whatshisface? I thought you were out getting roofied, so I about turned this house upside down lookin-”

Memories of Two flood your mind and in seconds sobs are once again rupturing through your body. Tim glances at Curly for an explanation but he can only shrug and wrap his arms tighter around you. Tim shyly settles down next to you and rubs your back.

After you settle down, you explain to the boys what happened, what you had seen and how he reacted. Somewhere along the way you ran out of tears to cry so your body was being racked with vicious hiccups. Curly and Tim offer to walk you home and with a bit of coercing, you convinced Tim to stay and watch the party, promising you’d call in the morning. As you and Curly make your way down the drive way, Tim ventures upstairs. When he sees Two kissing another girl up against the wall, he calmly yanks Two away from the broad and decks him in his jaw. Two-Bit stumbles a bit, blood drooling from his busted lip, but is quick to hit the floor, completely knocked out. Tim rolls his eyes at the pathetic state of Two and makes his way downstairs to ice his throbbing fist.

By late afternoon, Two wakes up groggy and stiff from his position on the floor. He stretches and yawns, but winces at the knot forming on the base of his jaw . He runs a tender finger along the swelling and pulls himself up to the bathroom. He cringes at the blood and vomit lining the neck of his shirt and the swollen purple bruise forming on the left side of his jaw.

“Fuck, how drunk was I,” he moans.

#Two-Bit Mathews #two bit #two-bit imagine #two bit mathews imagine #two-bit x reader #violent #cheating #one-shot #prompt #Written by Myself #The Outsiders #the outsiders imagines #drabble

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camsthisky · 7 years ago

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Breathe Disaster

ao3 | ff.net

Summary: Dick’s been shot, Wally feels guilty, and Cassandra sheds some insight on why Dick fights.

Based on @haunt-the-stars‘s birdflash post. It did not turn out the way I thought it was going to at all, but I hope you enjoy! Title comes from Marianas Trench’s song Ever After.

“Come on, Dick,” Wally murmurs, head lowered as he sits in the chair next to Dick’s bed side (or should he say cot side, since they’re in the Batcave’s medbay. Maybe he would have, but even his mind, the joke falls flat). He has his hands clasped in front of him, and he hates this feeling of waiting. It’s too slow. It helps him feel better to talk to Dick, though. To mutter, “Come on, Dick. Wake up soon, or else Batman’s gonna fillet me.”

He won’t. Batman’s always been through here more times in the past three hours than Wally can count, and Wally doesn’t doubt that Batman’s too worried about Dick to do much more than grunt in Wally’s general direction.

Unfortunately, Wally hasn’t known Batman—Bruce Wayne—long enough to translate Bat-speak, so he’s at a loss for what that particular grunt means. He hopes it means that he’s not going to kill Wally. But without Dick there to translate, and with Tim being uncooperative and not speaking to either Bruce or Wally, it means that Wally is out of luck.

“You know,” someone says, and Wally looks up to see a girl about Tim’s age—Cassandra, Wally remembers—next to him, looking down at him. He doesn’t know her very well, but she’s always shied away from his exuberance.

“Don’t take it personally,” Dick had told him after one too many times she’d disappeared on them in the manor. “She doesn’t know you well, and you’re probably just too loud and obnoxious.”

“So are you!” Wally had claimed.

Dick had just shrugged with an easygoing grin. “Yeah, well, I’m her brother. She has to like me.”

That conversation had dissolved into wrestling pretty quickly, and Wally thinks that they’d broken one of Alfred’s weird vases. They’d scrambled to clean up the shards, both reminiscing about the times they’d done this before when they were kids. Wally is pretty sure he’d seen a shadow watching them that day, and he wonders now if it was Cassandra.

“You’re not going to wake him up by staring at him,” Cassandra says, eyes flickering over to where Dick is lying unconscious on the cot. She looks sad. “But he’s not in any danger, so it should be okay to rest and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” Wally says at once, even though it’s a lie.

He’s starving. Not to mention exhausted. But all he can see when he closes his eyes is turning around to see the bullet piercing through Dick’s suit. Dick falling. Wally had barely been fast enough to catch Dick and flash him away somewhere safe. The stricken looks of his family when Wally had brought him to the Batcave.

Cassandra hums, but it doesn’t seem like she believes him. “I know how your abilities work.”

“I don’t think I can leave him.”

“Alfred can make you something,” Cassandra offers, her eyes soft and her voice gentle, but there’s something powerful about her that Wally can’t quite place. But then she looks back over at Dick, and she hunches in on herself, and all that power turns to fragile hurt. She’s sad. This is her big brother, Wally realizes, and she probably hurts just as much as Wally does to see Dick like this, but she’s torn herself away from him to take care of herself. Probably because that’s what Dick would want.

But Dick is Wally’s best friend. And he was there when Dick was shot. He’d had to watch as Dick fell like a puppet with its strings cut. And he sits here and he doesn’t think he can tear himself away until he knows for sure that Dick’s eyes will open again.

Cassandra seems to understand, because she sits down on the empty chair and pulls her knees up. “It sounds bad,” she says quietly, “but we’re all used to this. It’s the price of being…human, I guess.”

“I’m human,” Wally croaks. “I’m human, and this doesn’t happen to me. I can dodge bullets at super speed and I have accelerated healing, and sometimes—sometimes I forget that Dick isn’t me. He can’t take the hits I do and keep on going.”

“Maybe,” and Cassandra sighs. “But Dick’s one of the best when it comes to this, and there’s a reason.”

“Yeah?” Wally snorts. “And what’s that?”

Cassandra smiles. “Friends. Family. The people he loves, and the ones who love him.”

Wally runs a hand down his face. “That’s not going to help him dodge a bullet when it’s aimed straight at him.”

“Maybe not. But it gives him something to fight for.” Cassandra hesitates, and then she stares at Dick again. She seems almost—reluctant. “Dick…is different. Bruce fights for the city, but Dick fights for love. Family. Friendship.”

“Shhh,” Dick moans, his eyes still closed and his face pale, but his hands twitches towards where Cassandra is sitting. “‘M tryna sleep over here, Cassie. You, too, Walls. Love ya, but shuttup.”

Wally blinks, a little startled as he looks over at his best friend, but from the corner of his eye he sees Cassandra bite back a small smile.

“Dick?” Wally asks, almost in disbelief, that guilt threatening to overwhelm him again. He hadn’t realized that Cassandra had been distracting him from it until Dick’s blue, blue eyes open and catch his green, and they just look at each other. Until Wally feels something hitch in his chest and has to wrap his fingers around Dick’s weak hand. “Thank God.”

Dick huffs an amused breath, his eyes hazy with pain killers, but he squeezes back as much as he can. “Come here often?”

“Shut the hell up, Dick,” Wally says, but something loosens and Wally is crying tears of relief. “God, you scared me half to death.”

“Jason’s the one who does the death jokes around here,” Dick half slurs, a loopy grin across his face. “He’s not gonna be happy you’re taking ‘em over.”

Wally laughs wetly, and he has to take a couple of deep breaths before he can speak again. But before he can, he looks around in bewilderment, because—

“Where did your sister go?”

“T’get Bruce,” Dick says.

“I didn’t even see her leave.”

“She’s sneakier than a ninja.”

“Why is she getting your dad?”

“He’s a worrywart.”

“You got shot.”

“So’re you.”

“It nicked a lung.”

Dick huffs another laugh, but he grimaces this time and shifts. “I think the pain meds are starting to wear off.”

It’s less guilt this time around and more worry that makes Wally lean forward and squeeze Dick’s hand just a bit tighter. “Are you alright?”

Dick hums and closes his eyes. “Ask me again in a couple hours.”

“Dick,” Wally says, and Dick opens his eyes up again. He looks exhausted, but he meets Wally’s eyes, and looks slightly more coherent than before. He waits patiently, giving Wally a I’m listening look, and Wally swallows. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough.”

“And if I say I’m the one who’s sorry?” Dick says, his tone sharp all of the sudden. “Are you gonna let me take the blame for this one? Or are you gonna pull a Bruce and take all of the guilt?”

“Why would you be—”

“Because I jumped in front of it, Wally,” Dick says, his voice solemn, and Wally feels something sink his in stomach at the serious look in Dick’s eyes. At Dick’s words. “It was heading straight towards you, and I knew you wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way in time, eve with your speed. So, I jumped.”

Wally lets go of Dick’s hand and stands up, staring at his best friend. Dick looks—resigned. Like he’s expecting Wally to leave and not come back. But—that’s not—

“I can heal faster,” Wally says. “You shouldn’t have—”

“You can still die, Wally,” Dick says, and his voice is hoarse and there’s pain in his face that Wally thinks is from something other than the bullet wound in his chest. “Not even you can outrun a shot through the heart.”

Wally knows that his expression is showing all of the disbelief and pain and fear at the fact that his best friend jumped in front of a bullet that had been meant for Wally. “Dick—”

“I saw him pull the trigger and my body just moved,” Dick tells him. “And honestly? I’d do it again. I’ll be fine in a few weeks, but I don’t know if you’d be. There’s no way to know that if I hadn’t taken that bullet you wouldn’t be six feet under the ground.”

Wally sits back down and runs both hands through his hair, taking that in. He’s not—happy about it. But he’s not angry. He knows Dick. He knows that Dick is the kind of person to put someone above himself.

Dick fights for love, Cassandra had said, and yeah. Wally can’t believe how true that is. That Dick had taken a bullet for a speedster. For someone, if they’d just been facing the right direction and making a rookie mistake, that could just run away from it without a scratch.

But Dick had jumped in front. Had watched his back.

“Thank you,” Wally says, wrapping his hand around Dick’s again. “For saving my life.”

Dick shoots him a tired smile. “Anytime, Wally.”

#dick grayson #wally west #cassandra cain #dc #breathe disaster #camryn writes

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seigyokus · 8 years ago

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3.2 - Encounter

Idolish Seven - Part 3, Chapter 3.2 For more Part 3 translations, click here!

Translation below the cut!

Nanase Riku: Performing with everyone sounds really fun! I wonder what kind of project it'll be? Nanase Riku: Well, I have time to kill, so I'll go shopping. Ah, the cakes at that shop look really good! Maybe I'll buy one for Manager! Inumaru Touma: ....... Nanase Riku: ......!? That person's crouching down....... Maybe he feels sick? Nanase Riku: Um, are you okay? Inumaru Touma: ....... Nanase Riku: He.... He was crying......? Nanase Riku: Huh...? Wait….... I feel like I've seen this person somewhere before.... Inumaru Touma: ....... It's nothing. Leave me alone. Nanase Riku: But.... Ah, if you don't mind, please use these tissues! Inumaru Touma: I don't need them. ....... Inumaru Touma: Wait, these aren't tissues! This is bread! Nanase Riku: Ah! It looked white so I just-- this was supposed to be my lunch! Sorry about that! Inumaru Touma: Haha..... What a weirdo. Wait....... Inumaru Touma: Are you IDOLiSH7's Nanase Riku? Nanase Riku: Ah, yeah....... Inumaru Touma: ....... Nanase Riku: W-where are you going!? Inumaru Touma: Don't talk to me. I don't even wanna look at someone from IDOLiSH7. Nanase Riku: Huh...? Inumaru Touma: Come on, ask me why! Nanase Riku: W-why!? Inumaru Touma: Because you guys won against TRIGGER, even though you guys are crappier than them at singing and dancing. Nanase Riku: ....... Are you a TRIGGER fan by any chance? Inumaru Touma: Like hell I am!! Nanase Riku: I-I'm sorry! Inumaru Touma: I hate TRIGGER. They won against us, even though we're better than them. Nanase Riku: 'Won against us'......? Nanase Riku: Ah! Nanase Riku: I remember now! He's from that one group that challenged TRIGGER at Black or White and lost! Nanase Riku: He's NO_MAD's center, Inumaru Touma! Nanase Riku: I haven't seen him much on TV ever since then....... And I feel like he's changed a lot too. Nanase Riku: He used to be so energetic, confident, and full of smiles....... Inumaru Touma: We should've won, going off of pure skills. We only lost because of dumb, intangible shit like popularity. Inumaru Touma: That award can go suck a dick! But.... Everybody has changed ever since then. Everybody around us, and even my members....... Inumaru Touma: .......Disbanding is just....... We were supposed win against Re:vale and become the best group in Japan! Nanase Riku: ....... Inumaru Touma: ......I'll do it myself. Mark my words, I'm gonna show the world that you guys are below us! Nanase Riku: Please wait! Wah-- Man: You're in the way. Move! Inumaru Touma: ......! What the hell was up with that dude just now! He reeked of cologne! Is his nose clogged or something!? Nanase Riku: *cough* *cough* *cough*....... Inumaru Touma: Yeah, I choked just now too. ....... Wait, aren't you choking a little too much...? You okay? Nanase Riku: ......*cough* I-I'm fine.... I just need to drink some of this medicine....... Inumaru Touma: Medicine...? That's bread! Nanase Riku: *cough* *cough* *wheeze*....... Inumaru Touma: --Aw, what the hell! Here! Get on my back! I'll get you outta here so you can go get water and drink your damn medicine! Nanase Riku: B-but-- Inumaru Touma: Shut up, you dumbass! Hurry up and get on!

Inumaru Touma: Better now? Nanase Riku: Yeah.... Thank you very much. Inumaru Touma: 'Kay. Well, I'm gonna go. Nanase Riku: Um...! If you don't mind, please let me repay you! How about grabbing lunch together-- Inumaru Touma: Are you stupid? Didn't I just say that I hated you? Nanase Riku: ....... Inumaru Touma: ......Don't make puppy dog eyes at me! Nanase Riku: I'm really sorry. I caused you so much trouble....... Inumaru Touma: No, I-- I'm not complaining about carrying you! Listen. I hated you before that, okay! ......I told you when I introduced myself. Inumaru Touma: Come on, raise your head. Nanase....... Nanase Riku: Please call me Riku. Um, Inumaru-san....... Inumaru Touma: Just Touma is fine. I'll take this bread as thanks. Nanase Riku: Ah. Do you like bread? Inumaru Touma: Can't you tell I'm tryna end the conversation!! Sheesh, you're kinda slow for someone who's supposed to be center.... Well anyways, I’m gonna go now. Make sure you get home safely, Riku. Nanase Riku: Touma-san! Inumaru Touma: The next time we'll meet will be on stage. I'll show you what a real song is like. Nanase Riku: .......

Staff: Cut! We're going to change the lighting! Director: Wow, that was really good, Natsume-kun! As expected of a genius child actor-- you're the real deal alright. Natsume Minami: Ahaha. Thank you very much. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Nikaidou Yamato: ....... I gotta pull myself together too. I have to make this succeed-- for their sakes....... Yuki: ....... Nikaidou Yamato: Ah, Yuki-san. Good work today. Yuki: Good work. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: Looks like it'll rain....... Nikaidou Yamato: You're right....... Yuki: ....... Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: When I first met you, I thought you were a very serious boy. Seemed like the type to be a clean-freak too. Nikaidou Yamato: What brought this on, all of a sudden....... I thought you looked really shallow and flippant. Yuki: Haha.... Well, you're not wrong. Nikaidou Yamato: But.... That was the first time I was captivated by a man. I remember thinking, 'Wow, there's people like this?'....... Yuki: ....... Yuki: You're a very serious and honest boy. I don't understand why you pretend to not care, pretend to be rebellious. Nikaidou Yamato: I don't pretend to be rebellious-- Yuki: Listen to me. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: Are you having trouble with your role? Nikaidou Yamato: ......Yeah. Yuki: Don't think too hard about it. You look downright menacing. Have looked at a mirror lately? Nikaidou Yamato: I've always looked evil. Yuki: Why won't you ask the director? Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: We actors pour our emotions out to the camera, and then we take them back in. It's similar to how a therapist counsels their clients. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: It's very easy to get sucked in if you go in with an unhealthy state of mind and with superficial knowledge. You'll only drive yourself into a corner. Nikaidou Yamato: Haha..... What now, are you pretending to be a criminal psychologist like your role? Nikaidou Yamato: Speak for yourself. Everyone's worried since Re:vale said they'd be singing the theme song for the drama, but there hasn't even been a word about a demo tape. Yuki: We're stuck. It's hard to breathe during times like this. You end up thinking about how it'd be great if the world could just crumble right this instant. Nikaidou Yamato: ......You feel that way too, Yuki-san? Yuki: Of course. It's a very good thing when you manage to gently touch what's lying deep inside your heart. But even so.... Yuki: You can't put it into a tangible form. You become anguished to the point of tears as the clock ticks on, chasing you down-- you feel as if you could go mad. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Yuki: You may have taken great pains to create something, but that doesn't guarantee it'll be met with love. It could even be met with hate and laughed at. Yuki: Even so, that's how we live. We'll continue to express the 'something' that's right here, right now. Nikaidou Yamato: Yuki-san....... Yuki: You're the same, aren't you? It's painful, so, so painful-- isn't it fun? Yuki: Even though this is all it takes to overwhelm you, you're not allowed to bring in anything else. Yuki: If you start thinking about achievements, or success, or where you stand, it'll only make things unnecessarily difficult. Right now, you're not as in control of yourself as you used to be. Yuki: You're not thinking about technique, or about the work itself-- you're desperately trying to evaluate yourself. ......What's the matter? Nikaidou Yamato: .......

Yaotome Gaku: Alright! Bring it on! No need to hold back, Ryuu. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ...What's going on? What are these gloves and punching mitts for....... Yaotome Gaku: You know, I bet you're tired of that old man talking your ears off too. Yaotome Gaku: You're a beast when it comes to sports, right? I'm gonna bring out your fighting spirit, that's what. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You want me to hit you with these on? Are you really sure....... Won't you get hurt? Yaotome Gaku: What the hell do you take me for! I've fought with an upperclassman before. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: He's not gonna budge, huh.... Hiya! *smack* Yaotome Gaku: Ow-- Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Are you okay!? Yaotome Gaku: ...I think I twisted my wrist from the impact....... *click* Kujou Ten: What are you guys doing? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Gaku's teaching me how to box. Gaku, did you take the glove off, yet? Does your wrist hurt? Yaotome Gaku: Not at all. That was a pretty good punch. Kujou Ten: I see. So the trainee's taking care of the trainer? Yaotome Gaku: Shut up. Kujou Ten: Ryuu, have you made up with your brother yet? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: No.... He hasn't contacted me yet. Kujou Ten: I see.... I hope you guys can reconcile soon. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Yeah. Thank you. Yaotome Gaku: Someone's being awfully nice today. Did something happen with Nanase? Kujou Ten: Riku has nothing to do with this. *click* Yaotome Sousuke: Is Ryuunosuke here? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: President....... Yaotome Sousuke: About what we discussed the other day.... I'm going to introduce you to an acquaintance who you can use as reference for your future activities. Come with me. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: O-okay.... Yaotome Gaku: Where are you taking him!? You better not be dragging him to some questionable shop. Yaotome Sousuke: You dare think that about your father!? Yaotome Gaku: Well, how the hell am I supposed to trust someone who told Ryuu to go 'sleep with every last woman in Japan’ and make them his!?" Yaotome Sousuke: ......Just read this article! Yaotome Gaku: .....NO_MAD is disbanding? They're the group that challenged us at Black or White that one year, right? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: They're disbanding, huh....... I don't know when it happened, but I stopped seeing them around at TV stations as much. I haven't heard their name lately, and now....... Kujou Ten: ....... Yaotome Sousuke: This is the cold, harsh truth about the entertainment industry. Do you want TRIGGER to disappear, just like this group? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ......I understand. I'll come with you, President. Yaotome Gaku: Ryuu....... Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I'll do my best and learn lots! Let's make TRIGGER the best in Japan this year! Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Well, I'll be off now! *slam* Yaotome Gaku・Kujou Ten: .......

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: President....... About the person you're going to introduce me to.... What are they like? Yaotome Sousuke: He's the son of the family that manages the world's most high-class, top quality hotel chain. In high society, he's more popular among women than any entertainer could ever hope to be. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: That's....... Yaotome Sousuke: Exactly. He's just like your fictional persona. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ....... Yaotome Sousuke: He's been interested in your for quite some time now. He believes you're a kindred spirit. Yaotome Sousuke: Get close to this man and learn how to be the real thing from him. Don't let it slip that you're actually the son of an Okinawan fisherman. Yaotome Sousuke: It's that shop. I'm leaving after the initial greetings. He's a very important acquaintance-- do not be rude to him, under any circumstances. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Just like.... My fictional persona.......

Yaotome Sousuke: Without further ado, I'll be leaving him in your care. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ......I wonder what kind of person he is? Will I be able to hold a conversation with him......? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I sing with all I've got, and I dance with all I've got. I'm not cutting any corners there. I'm proud of the fact that I give everything my best shot. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: But I guess that's not enough, huh? Character....... Idol....... Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Just what are those things? Midou Torao: Raise your head. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Huh? Woah-- Midou Torao: Handsome, just like on TV. Come on, talk. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I-I'm Tsunashi Ryuunosuke..... Midou Torao: Haha. That's the same voice as what's on CDs. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ...Are you the acquaintance the President wanted to introduce to me......? Midou Torao: Yeah. I'm Midou Torao. Midou Torao: Let's have fun tonight, superstar.

To be continued....

TL Notes/comments:

THANK U KURI 4 PROOFREADING!!!!!!!!!!!

General note, yuki's lines @ yamato are kinda abstract and gave me a Grand Headache to TL, probably got some weird looks in the library a day or so ago when I tl'd this because I was frowning so hard at my monitor trying to piece together a good way to phrase things!!!!!!! Dam N

I also may or may not have had a little too much fun translating touma bc of his speaking mannerisms + the fact that I'm the same age as him LOL

also that last yaotome papa line i wasn’t sure if he was talking to torao or talking to ryuu so im just gonna pretend he was talking to torao or someshit bc he mentioned that he’d go in, do his greetings, and then leave. ryuu’s deep in thought and not looking up so ?? idK tbh

As usual, if you see any mistakes/mistranslations/etc, please message me!

Thank you for reading!!

#idolish7 #アイドリッシュセブン #story3:tl #story3:text #translation

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davidchanus · 6 years ago

Text

I covered murders during Chicago's deadliest year in decades – here's what I saw

In 2016, Chicago experienced 780 homicides, making it the deadliest year in the city in nearly two decades.

The first homicide of the year came at 2:20 a.m. on New Year's Day in the Grand Boulevard neighborhood on the South Side. Twenty-year-old DeAndre Holiday found himself on the wrong side of an argument half a mile from the edge of Washington Park when a man pulled out a handgun and shot him in the chest.

I got there just as the police were stringing up yellow tape around the scene.

I was a crime reporter for the Chicago Sun-Times then, tracking a never-ending string of shootings and violence. For more than a year, I had a police scanner near my desk and listened to the dispatcher say "we're getting a ticket of a person shot" and "shots fired," among other depressing crimes.

I was working the overnight shift that night, as I usually did, when the call went out over the scanner. "One of us should go," my coworker said.

When I got to the scene, it was silent, and a bitter wind ran through my overcoat. I walked up to the line looking for Holiday's body then saw it mangled in the street, partially covered by a white sheet.

One of the cops asked me to step back because the police were tying up an extra line. I walked to the darkened sidewalk and watched the tape blow in the wind and the blue lights bounce off the brick homes and disappear into abandoned lots.

The silence didn't last. One by one, I watched Holiday's friends and family members arrive in disbelief, then see his body. Devastation and raw emotion quickly overwhelmed them.

One woman kept screaming, "Who shot him? That's my baby's daddy!" A woman who appeared to be in her 70s wailed over and over "Wake up!" She shrieked and screamed in a way I'd never heard before, as did the dozen or so others. Sometimes it was as if everyone were screaming at once.

The cops moved an SUV in front of Holiday's body, and an officer took the older woman's hand and led her away. At one point, gunshots rang out a few blocks away. No one — not the police or the friends or family — looked surprised.

That wasn't the first shooting I went to, but it was the first where I had witnessed such devastation. I thought I knew how to handle myself after scenes like that, but when I got home, back to the world I'd known before, I felt numb.

A look I'll never forget

Last year, more than 4,000 people were shot in Chicago, and shootings have become so normalized that they rarely make the front page of the local papers, let alone the national news.

About a month after Holiday's killing, as the Super Bowl was playing and my friends were posting pictures of their parties on social media, I was in the Sun-Times newsroom listening to the scanner scrolling through police zones.

"All right, we're getting four people shot now," the dispatcher said. I pressed hold on the zone and listened. The dispatcher said the victims were all 15 years old. My editor told me not to go to the scene — no one was dead yet. But then I told her the ages.

I raced my car down the highway to the Englewood neighborhood, also on the South Side, where the shooting had happened. I found a woman who looked to be in her 30s standing on the sidewalk with a dazed disposition.

She told me she ran outside after hearing gunfire and kids screaming and found eight or nine teenagers on a porch. Four of them — three boys and a girl — were shot, and all were crying. Some were throwing up. Thankfully, they all survived.

One of the kids told her that two men had walked up, asked "Are y'all good?" and then opened fire.

I could see fear and trauma in her eyes. As she talked to me, her kids peeked out from behind the white curtain of their first-floor apartment. They looked terrified too. I'll never forget that. I sensed that they were scared not only because of the shooting but also because she was talking to me, a journalist.

The neighbor seemed nervous to talk to me too. She asked me not to use her name, like most witnesses I talked to after shootings, and spoke quietly, as though she wanted to make sure no one heard her.

It was only later that I learned the hard way that even appearing to give information to a journalist could be dangerous.

'You tryna get me killed?'

A few months later, I was in the office very late one day, or early, depending on how you look at it. I heard on the scanner that a male had been shot in the head. The dispatcher didn't call it a 0110 — the Chicago police code for homicide — but it sounded like one. I drove to the scene to find out.

When I got there, a body was in the middle of the street, and there were only a few people around. I asked a guy walking down the sidewalk whether he knew what happened, and he told me something about where the shooters were standing.

"Over there?" I asked, pointing to a trash can.

"F--- you, man," he said. "You tryna get me killed?"

He stormed off. It dawned on me that, with one flick of the wrist, I may have put him, and possibly myself, in danger. I felt awful.

When I finally got to sleep that night, I dreamed that someone kept pointing a gun at me. I woke up screaming. I rushed to my computer, and there in my inbox was an email from a family member of the victim. The person was swearing at and threatening me.

I couldn't get the screams out of my head

By July, I was having trouble relating to my friends and family.

One night, I headed to a homicide scene in the neighborhood of Austin on the West Side. The trees were covering the city's notoriously golden street lamps, and it was really dark. The police had just taken the victim's body away and were taking down the yellow tape. I walked over to an older woman standing on the sidewalk.

When she and I finished talking, I walked over to three men standing on the side of the house where the victim had been killed. I had my camera on my shoulder and motioned as if I wanted to ask them some questions.

One of the men took one look at me and said, "You better get the f--- out of here." Another put his hand in his pants as though he had a gun holstered there. I had a sudden realization that all of the police officers had left the scene. The three of them started cursing at me and walking forward.

My heart started racing. I said "All right" and turned and walked at a brisk but steady pace to my car, trying to show neither fear nor disrespect. When I got to my car, I looked back and saw them down the street, still yelling at me. I felt stupid as hell.

I had been feeling weird since the New Year's Day shooting. For a day or two after visiting a scene, I would feel this peculiar kind of tunnel vision. It was as though I were looking at the world through a foggy television screen. I couldn't touch or focus on anything.

I couldn't get the screams out of my head. While they were all different, they were also all the same: the pain of losing someone to violence.

Few people in my life understood what was going on.

The socioeconomics of murder

It wasn't just the screams or the violence that made the scenes hard to process. The causes of violence were readily on display at almost every scene.

Most shootings in Chicago happen in about 10 of the city's 77 neighborhoods, on the South Side and the West Side. Poverty, racism, lack of opportunities, and more were apparent at every scene, even in the smallest details. It made the suffering harder to process.

When I'd drive from the Sun-Times office downtown to the crime scenes, it was hard to miss the contrasts. The skyscrapers, plush condos, and designer stores gave way to run-down buildings, boarded-up schools and storefronts, and empty lots.

At one crime scene, where a 28-year-old had been shot dead on a sidewalk, a young boy walked up and down the sidewalk along the police tape. No older than 7, he would stop and stare at the body every so often. As far as I could tell, it seemed normal to him.

Another shooting I covered happened at a memorial event. Nearly 100 people had gathered to remember a friend killed on the block a few years prior when a man pulled out a gun and killed a man and a woman and injured two more. A 16-year-old girl at the memorial had an asthma attack during the shooting and died later at the hospital.

At another, a 16-year-old boy was shot in his car after a man walked up and asked where he was from. "I'm not about that," the boy's friends told me he said. The man pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

"I just bought him a plane ticket to Mississippi, and now he's dead," the boy’s mother told me.

It just felt as if bodies were piling up in my head.

Tired

This is just a small fraction of the scenes I saw in Chicago.

What's awful is that what I saw pales in comparison to what some reporters in the city have seen. And it certainly pales in comparison to what the victims, their families, and all those living in Chicago's hardest-hit neighborhoods have experienced.

But by the time I put my two weeks in, I was tired of living in the dark.

I was tired of having to take two or three Xanax to fall asleep, only to black out and then suddenly wake up four hours later in a feverish sweat.

I was tired of the regular nightmares — my girlfriend at the time told me I would frequently scream in my sleep.

I was tired of hearing the dispatcher say, "We're getting a ticket of a person shot. Person shot."

I was tired of the constant guilt and I was tired of being threatened and screamed at by the people I was trying to help — though I certainly didn't blame them for their anger and emotion.

It's been about eight months since I quit, and I'm still processing what I saw. I still get flashes of bodies or hear screams when I see flashing police lights or a broken car window.

I think sometimes about how that year affected me — how it made me feel numb, how I wore a scowl I couldn't seem to shake.

Then I think about what I might be like if I grew up in one of those neighborhoods I went to so often.

SEE ALSO: We spent 3 nights with a NYC crime reporter to see how safe the 'safest big city' in the US really is

SEE ALSO: 'The worst I've ever seen it': 11 shot dead, 63 more wounded in Chicago over the weekend

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from Legal News https://www.businessinsider.com/what-i-saw-crime-reporter-chicago-2017-7

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