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thedovesaredying · 2 months

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Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below.

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!”

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.”

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

Translations

“да,” - “Yes”

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”

“место!” - “Stay!”

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!”

“ко мне!” - “Come!”

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #call of duty nikto #cowboy au #nikto x reader #fanfic

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skyfallslayer · 9 months

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A Stitch In Time || Prologue

-Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader-

Series Masterlist

° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.

° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.

° Date: 7/20

° Rating: Teen

° Word Count: 4,569

° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!

The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?

He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance?

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.

“Uh… so…”

It hurts to even think about it.

“I was just…”

Should he even say it?

“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”

Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?

“Be next to you?”

Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you.

He’s loved you since the very beginning.

Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.

No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.

No it was–

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.

(Was she trying to freeze you?!)

“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk.

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–

No.

That’s officially gone out the window.

It’s just his daughter. His.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes.

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

Maybe later though.

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry…” He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

Steve copies him with a chuckle. “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused.

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…

(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)

After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”

Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again.

Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”

“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.

Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”

“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”

“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.

“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”

Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”

“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”

Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life?

Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”

A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh.

The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.”

A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.

Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him.

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead.

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…

Why were you cursed to be underground?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up.

He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.

Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?

You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see.

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He grins. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

“I love you more.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle.

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!”

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.

Five years old.

That was it.

That’s the last time he ever saw you.

And that hurt like a bitch.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He doesn’t know when…

But everything suddenly just…

Clicked.

Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.

“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.

When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.

First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.

He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”

Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”

Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.

“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”

Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?

“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”

“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.

Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”

Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”

“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”

“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.”

And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.

Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.

“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”

“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.

“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”

Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?

Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”

“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”

“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”

The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”

“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.”

“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"

Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.

You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.

He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.

He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.

And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.

“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well.

Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”

Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”

“O-Oh…” Bucky looks away too. “I always h-hated when s-she cries.”

With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”

Bucky frowns. “Steve–"

“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”

“You didn’t find anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky.

“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”

“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.”

Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible.

“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”

“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”

Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”

“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”

“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”

And those were the words that would change -everything-.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@navs-bhat @liarasstuff @justmewoo @thed1v1n3

@luckyzipperscissorsbat @like-a-domino @kissesofdeadforme

@audigay

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captainjacklyn · 10 months

Text

Twisted Wonderland x Dragon!Yuu PART 3

Context : Yuu is dragged by the headmaster to who knows where while they carry on their arms, a very feisty fire cat. Upon arriving in the room full of strangely dressed people, a couple of incidents happen to take place just a couple of minutes later.

Tag List : @candlewitch-cryptic

Warning(s) : none really, fire with butts on fire, riddle is mean like he canonically was in the prologue, if I missed anything please notify me.

Prologue [Fiery Issue] - Episode 2 :

loud sounds of footsteps and incomprehensible mumbling could be heard across the hallway. A confused dragon in human form tried to reason with the presumably called 'headmaster crowley' to explain their situation, all while handling a very angry raccoon aggressively biting their hand.

"Sir Crowley, you must understand that there is a huge misunderstanding, I woke up here out of sheer coincidence and not once was I informed of attending a school for humans- I mean wizards. I myself aren't fit for such a position considering my level with magic-" He was quick to cut them off with a statement of his own, "There is no need to utter such nonsense ! The school wouldn't just pick up a student on the street to attend in this prestigious establishment ! Consider yourself lucky and flattered !" while saying the last part he smiled in satisfaction.

[lucky how exactly ?] Yuu thought to themselves while trying to keep their composure and find a way to tell them to let you go without revealing your identity. Of course you could just do so and get on with it, but not everyone reacts very well to the revelation. "MMHMHM !" the irritated fire cat muffled out it's own claims but to no avail as Yuu gripped him a little tighter and spoke under their breath. "Hush, you'll get back home in a minute, just calm down alright ?" "mmhm.." they groggily groaned back and the struggling temporarily stopped.

______________________________________________________________

Mirror Chamber - Entrance ceremony

Chatter filled the room as students began to get up from their seats to head out with their assigned group. "Is that all for the new student dorm assignments ? Listen up new students. Here in Heartslabyul I am the rules, break them and its off with your head." a red haired boy spoke firmly, another man with Lion ears followed with an introduction of his own. "..Uuugh. The stuffy ceremony is finally over. We're going back to the dorms, Savannaclaws follow me.."

"To the new students, congratulation on entering this academy. Enjoy your life here to the fullest." a confident boy with glasses welcomed the other individuals, "As the dormitory leader of Octavinelle, I will support you to the best of my abilities." then, a beautiful man brought the attention to something else, "By the way, where did the headmaster go ? he flew out right in the middle of the ceremony.." "abandoning his post.." A floating tablet commented.

"Did he get a stomach ache or something ?" another boy with a turban added his own assertion, only to be interrupted by the sound of doors slamming open and the voice of said headmaster. "Not at all !" "Ah he's here." the red haired boy uttered once more. "I cannot believe you all. We were missing one new student so I went to find them." crowley explained as he then turned his attention to Yuu, "You are the only one yet to be assigned a dormitory. I shall watch over the raccoon, step in front of the Dark Mirror."

[....I should just play along and hope that relic doesn't prove that strange man right...How could I go from one of the admirals of the Harmony faction to a human pupil..] Yuu let their mind run free as they hesitantly walked towards the Dark mirror that soon asked, "State thy name." [..In the name of Thor..I'm going to have to curse this artifact..] "Yuu/(Name)." their (e/c) eyes lighting up faintly whilst answering.

"The shape of thy soul is.." it continued, but didn't keep going as if waiting for something to happen.

"..." it's 'eyebrows' lifted, surprised. Yuu waited for an answer, the suspense making them somewhat tense up.

[..it's working..]

"..........." the Dark Mirror's expression turned to confusion.

[...how long does this last.]

"........................." it then started to presumably frown.

[...so..?]

"I do not know." [YES !] Yuu lifted their fist up to try and inaudibly express their relief with success in being able to cast a spell. "Come again ?!" Crowley exclaimed, "I sense not a spark of magic from this one..No color, no shape, all are nothing. therefore they are not suited for any dormitory." [harsh.] for all that, they didn't really need to care anymore, as long as the result was what they wanted. "It was as I told you, I do not possess any magical prowess."

"But an ebony carriage would absolutely never go meet someone who can't use magic !" he tried retorting Yuu's claims, "In 100 years there has not been a mistake in student selection. So why in the world.." he placed an thinking hand under his chin, not realizing that his grip on the fur ball loosened. "Mghmgh..Pah !" it yanked it's head away, seemingly angry about the whole ordeal as it declared : "Then I'll take their place !" The headmaster snapped out of his trance and tried scolding it, "Stay right there ! Raccoon !"

"Unlike that dumb human, I can use actual magic ! Let me in the school instead !" the raccoon defended itself, "if you need proof I'll show you right now !" it continued before positioning itself on all four and inhaling a strong breath in. As if to understand what was coming next, the red haired boy yelled out "Everyone get down !"

"Nnaah !" the talking cat puffed out his infamous fireball, "Waah ! Hottt! My butt's on fire !" the boy in the turban panicked as fire caught on his backside, "Tch ! Suck ups.." the man with lion ears groaned. The beautiful student from earlier couldn't help but comment on the lion's irritation, "Hmm ? Aren't you good at hunting ? Doesn't it look like a nice, plump snack ?" The beastman snapped back, "Why me ? Do it yourself." the boy with the turban was jumping up and down trying to get rid of the flames on his back side. "Umm, hey, could someone put out my butt fire already ?!" he screamed.

"At this rate the school will be a sea of fire ! Somebody catch that raccoon !" [can he get rid of anymore responsibilities...?] the dragon in disguise human let out an exasperated sigh "Hey." a stern voice broke the commotion, Yuu stood in front of the source of chaos.

"huh ?" it's eyes widened in confusion, "Fnagh ! You ! How did you get here so quickly ?!" it yelped in surprise, not knowing how this strange being shifted from one place to another without making a sound. "I told you to calm down earlier, did I not ? Is it that hard for you to not cause trouble ? That creature really acts like a member of the chaos faction.." they mumbled the last part under their breath as they stared down at the grey haired fur ball. Meanwhile, it was too busy being paralyzed out of fear, why was its fur standing on end ? Surely it isn't that intimidated.

The next thing that was expected to happen was a blow, but nothing came. "Stop. it." Yuu scolded as they aggressively patted his head, slowly pushing him down. "You. need. to. stop. You're quite literally burning down the school you so dearly wish to attend." They began to tap grim with their fingers in an attempt to annoy him to end his foolish acts.

Surprisingly..

It did work.

I hope you stay tuned for part 4 !

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mermaidfanficlibrary · 5 months

Text

A Life Before | Yandere Tokyo Revengers x Male reader

The description is down below. This is also on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

Description: Mentally Unstable Occult More about you: More about you Prologue: A Life Before | {You are here} Chapter 1: The Reality I've Been Searching for | TBW Chapter 2: You remind me so much of him | TBW Chapter 3: Blood Soaked Insanity | TBW

Y/n had no easy life, and not one any child should have had. His parents were never around to see the accomplishments of their son, they were just busy. His brother, Lucas, wasn’t any help either. He was the golden child, and Y/n lived within his shadow. Y/n was the oldest, but his brother just seemed to have the charisma that Y/n lacked.

Y/n grew to isolate himself, and bury himself within his jealousy. Y/n grew up with the harsh parenting of his father, and when his brother came into the world it changed. In Y/N's mind, Lucas was getting special treatment. He grew up thinking that any form of attention only ever came to him when he did something remarkable. But Y/n started to give up on trying, and let Lucas have all the attention.

He didn’t want his brother to become like him, an isolated mess with no one to talk to and resentment for people. There was something that had sought Y/n out, however. The shadows of all kinds of places started to appear to Y/n, telling him of their woes and stories of their ever fleeting pasts. He saw them before when he was younger, usually in his room. They filled the loneliness he had felt from the abandonment of his mother and father.

Y/n would often talk to the shadows, causing curiosity within his family. His parents had thought he was talking to friends on the phone, but they were concerned when Y/n wouldn’t bring these friends over. They had thought he was with delinquents, but never pushed the issue because they never had the time. Lucas, however, wanted to only spend time with Y/n. All he wanted was Y/n look at him with a smile.

Just like their parents did. But all Lucas got was this look of numbness from his other brother. Whenever Lucas tried to reach out to Y/n he would shut the door to his bedroom. This left Lucas a crying mess on the other side. But he would never tell their parents. All Lucas ever wanted from Y/n was the loving and supportive brother he saw in movies and shows.

The one that gives advice on first dates and when the main character's best friend was fighting with them, the older brother would come in and give some jaw dropping response the audience would never expect. And Y/n felt the same. He wanted the loving parents he saw on the TV, ones that loved all their children the same. Y/n gave up on that silly little hopeful idea, knowing it was an unrealistic fantasy that would never come to him.

Due to the constant isolation Y/n brought to himself, he became more absent in his mind. His thoughts were relentless, but they were one of the few things that would ever listen to him. The mental breakdowns he started to have become more violent. The shadows, who he had befriended, had to hold him back from attempting several times. They didn’t have the strength to stop him from hurting himself.

Y/n would hear the cries of the shadows, thinking it was the pain of their past lives. The true reason they were wailing was because of Y/n’s self-destructive behavior. Y/n didn’t even need to try to hide the scars he caused because no one would notice. No one took the time to check in on him. It made his spiraling mind so much worse. The shadows who had become his new family had to put in so much effort to make sure Y/n didn’t die to his own hands.

There was one person, outside the spectral plane, that noticed Y/n’s worsening state. It was Y/n’s brother, Lucas. Lucas tried so hard to reach out to Y/n, to offer him his helping hand. He never knew how else to go about it, seeing his brother’s scars and heavy eye bags. Every time Y/n walked out of his room, Lucas would stare at him horrified. How could their parents not realize how much pain their oldest son was in?

“Y/n, are you okay?”

Y/n looked at Lucas, eyes empty, with no sign of any one present. Y/n only walked past his younger brother, not sparing him a moment. Lucas grabbed Y/n’s hand, causing the h/c haired boy to whip his head around. Lucas let go of Y/n’s hand instantly, startled by the cold, harsh gaze coming from his e/c eyes. Y/n’s voice was low and hoarse.

“Like you care. Just leave me alone.”

Y/n walked away, stepping out of the house. The slam of the front door left Lucas in shock. Tears dripped down his cheeks as they hit the hardwood floor. He did care for Y/n, but why did Y/n not see it? Why was Y/n always pushing him away?

Y/n let the interaction with his brother leave his mind. He was too focused on going into the shops that were close by his house. Y/n only had his phone and wallet in hand, headphones placed on his ears. He walked down his driveway and down the various roads that led to the stores and restaurants that littered the town. His thoughts were stuck on his brother.

He hated Lucas, but there was so much guilt in hating him. He noticed his younger brother's attempts to comfort him. Y/n kept on walking, focusing on the music playing through his headphones. He didn’t want to think about his family, but they always plague his thoughts. Y/n was finally at the small mall with other shops and restaurants surrounding it.

He looked around and noticed that the place wasn’t bustling with people, but more of a calm flow of 2 to 3 people every 3 stores. Y/n sighed, letting out all the anxiety he felt in his stomach, and gently walked around as his eyes darted around. As he was window shopping, one store caught his attention. It was a manga and anime store. Y/n walked in the small store, looking around at all the items that were being showcased. He loved anime, well, some anime, but only because it was his escape from the cruel world he lived through.

He fantasized about these characters loving him endlessly, giving him the attention he never got from anyone else. Y/n picked up a few figurines he liked, looking at them front and back as he admired them. He slipped into his fantasy mind of the never ending love, but it was short-lived as he looked at the many shelves of manga. Y/n dragged himself over to the bookshelves, gently placing the figuring he was holding back on its spot, and started to look through the various manga series that were on display. Y/n mainly focused on the manga of anime’s he’s seen, anxious about starting a series without having the anime to follow along with.

Y/n’s anime choices were also very restricted because he had no way to legally access them and usually had other things to do whenever he had downtime. Even if it seemed like Y/n did nothing in the eyes of those around him, he was quite busy. He did his best in school, getting homework done a week early, trying to find something to be creative, walking around, and just thinking. That was his usual schedule, but there were times where Y/n just needed to listen to something for comfort. To see the silly characters on his screen have better lives than him, so he can imagine one of his own.

Anime wasn’t Y/n’s only escape, show wise, that is. He had the silly kids cartoons from the various streaming sites his parents had bought, and to their stupidity, Y/n had memorized every single password they used in case he got locked out. It didn’t help Y/n’s isolation issues at all, but it made things so much easier. At least that's what he had thought throughout his whole life. Growing up, T.V was what created most of how Y/n views everything, a world where everything ends happy and that people who’ve hurt him will come back and do some big grand gesture and repent for the pain.

That realization came from an adult show he had watched on his own, even if it made him feel worse. That one adult show and one of the many kid shows he loved watching were his therapy, more so than anime was. They taught him the patterns in his own life and reasons why he feels the way he does. Y/n shook his head, trying not to get distracted while he looked through the shelves. He just looked at the several front covers of various series for 30 minutes, and the cashier just watched him, waiting for Y/n to make a choice.

Y/n’s attention shifted to the cashier as he felt them watch him look through the various series. He put the book he was holding back on the shelf, walking over to the checkout counter. He stood loosely in front of the cashier, having a staring contest with them. Both of them had a bored look resting on their features as the cashier rested their head on their hand, propping up their elbow on the counter. The cashier smirked at Y/n, trying to read the boy. Y/n only stared blankly back.

“You not finding what you want?”

Y/n lightly shook his head, his eyes still blank and numb. The cashier chuckled softly as they turned to look through the shelf behind the counter. Y/n watched the cashier as he eyed all the books and figures on the feature wall. Y/n stood patiently, waiting for the cashier to find what they were looking for. The cashier then pulled out a manga and slid it to Y/n from across the counter.

“Try this. I think you’ll like it. There’s a small sitting area behind the shelves if you want to read it.”

Y/n nodded and gently took the manga, not giving the cover a glance. Only after sitting down did Y/n register what the manga was called. He studied the character that was presented on the volume, as the number 1 was big and red. He read the title quietly to himself.

‟Tokyo Revengers…”

After gently opening the cover page, Y/n started to get sucked into the story. The concept of being isekaied to time travel was very new, and he only ever saw it once. This story was vastly different with the plot, but he noticed similarities with the anime he kept thinking of. Y/n sat there for who knows how long, trying to finish this one volume. The cashier was right, Y/n loved it.

Y/n stood up after he finished the book and brought it back to the checkout counter. Before the cashier could ask if Y/n liked it, Y/n walked back to the shelves. The cashier looked curiously as Y/n scavenged to shelves for every single Tokyo Revengers manga that was available. The cashier watched Y/n in awe as the boy walked back to the counter with a large stack of books. They just looked at the stack and then back to Y/n.

“Is that all?”

Y/n only quickly nodded in response as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He was so excited to go home and read the whole series, or what he could find, anyway. The cashier smiled at Y/n, bagging the last book. They've never seen someone so excited to enjoy reading. Y/n paid the cashier with money he stole from his parents, and immediately ran out of the store.

Y/n paused for a moment after running down the mall. He stopped in front of a fountain and walked closer to it. He stared at the reflection, but the reflection had many eyes staring back. He chuckled lightly as he brought his headphones to his ears. Y/n took a coin out of his pocket and dropped it into the fountain. Y/n stared back at the rippling reflections of all the eyes that were looking at him.

“You guys are pretty late to the party. No matter, let's get home. I have some books to read!”

He turned around, picked up the bags and started to walk out the mall. Some bags started to float out of his hands as one of his ghost friends helped him out. No one noticed the floating back because once the ghost touched it, it disappeared, not to Y/n though. Y/n was the only one who could see what the ghosts carry or touch, and it was hilarious to see sometimes. The other ghosts walked beside him as they all talked in their minds with Y/n.

The main ghost that carried Y/n’s bags was what Y/n considered to be a mother. He loved her dearly, and she loved him. The only thing Y/n has from her past is that she was a mother, but her son disappeared a long, long time ago. So to help, Y/n let her mother him in ways his own mother didn’t. She was the main reason Y/n was still sane with all the isolation he has done throughout his life.

The ghosts among him always called her Mother, and Y/n did too. It only felt appropriate, and it helped him a lot when he needed a mother to depend on. Y/n continued to walk down the streets, trying to get home, but his stomach wouldn’t leave him alone. He looked to Mother, and then back to the other ghosts. Their energy changed to a knowing one as they changed directions to get food.

Y/n skipped along, completely forgetting about his guilty feelings directed toward his brother, and focusing on satiating his hunger. Y/n swayed his head slightly as he focused on his music and looking for a place to eat.

The ghosts all admired Y/n, they thought of him as a god, but Y/n had to explain every time how he wasn’t one. It was quite funny seeing their energies become more confused the more he tried to explain. Y/n stopped walking as he stood in front of a restaurant.

Y/n walked closer, scanning the menu that was displayed outside the restaurant. While scanning the prices, Y/n felt a tap on his shoulder. Y/n turned to meet Mother, her white eyes moving in a way of worry. Y/n gave her one of his rare soft smile as his e/c eyes held a calm gaze. Mother was trying to get Y/n’s attention to the sky, and Y/n looked up to see the sun was already setting.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get back before dark. Not like they’d punish me if I got home late anyway.”

Y/n shrugged his shoulders and walked into the restaurant, with only Mother following after him. Y/n had taken a seat for two, and no one questioned him talking to himself. Well, that’s what the outsiders saw, but he was in a very deep conversation with Mother. Mother was the one to stay with Y/n whenever he went out to eat or to be by himself that wasn’t in his home. Y/n had ordered two servings of f/f to share with Mother, even though she never really needed to eat.

She loved indulging Y/n however. These things were seen as offerings from Y/n, and they were greatly appreciated. Y/n loved spoiling the ghosts that followed him around and helped. Giving them gifts was the best way to show his gratitude. It was also the only way he could show it.

It first started with Y/n giving the ghosts different articles of clothing so he could keep track of who was who. That was before Y/n could read their energies and get a grasp on who he was speaking to without the guidance of a distinctive feature of the shadowy creatures. Y/n had also used the memories he was given in his sleep to discern the ghost he was talking to. The memory sharing became frequent when he went to bed. That was the main reason Y/n hated sleeping.

He didn’t like seeing the pain and sadness of the various past lives of the shadows that followed him around. Those nights with those memory dreams ended up with Y/n having a panic attack. That's when Mother put a restraint on the memory sharing from all the other ghosts. They only ever did it when Y/n asked, and Y/n barely ever did. So the other ghosts resorted to pointing at pictures that related to their lives.

Y/n shook his head, trying not to focus on the other ghosts. His attention got brought to the scent of the f/f he was served. A big smile graced his usually empty face. He pushed the 2nd serving to the seemingly empty seat. Mother took a fort and started to absorb the food's energy. She could feel the love of not only the chef, but from Y/n as well. Y/n looked to Mother, seeing here happy essence.

“You like it? It’s my favorite, though you already know that. You know everything about me. You know me better than my own mom..”

Y/n trailed off, thinking of how a ghost knew more about him than his family. It made him sad that he would never have the relationship he dreamed of having. Mother brought a shadow limb to Y/n’s hand, comforting the boy. Y/n took a heavy sigh and quickly finished the food, wanting to get home. He hated the fact that he ever had to go home in the first place, but he needed to because it's where he felt safest.

Y/n started his walk home after paying for the food. Mother had taken both bags from Y/n, insisting that he needed to rest. She was right, of course, but Y/n was a stubborn soul. He never liked having assistance with tasks like this. He only gave in because Mother was insistent about it.

“L̶e̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶L̶e̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶.̶.̶.̶”

Y/n chuckled and looked at Mother as the two of them walked down the calm streets. Y/n had his hands in his jack pockets, not caring about anything else. He smiled at Mother as she continued to carry the heavy bags full of manga. He loved Mother so much, and couldn’t express how much he did. He turned his head back to face what was in front of him as he walked the dark and dimly lit streets.

“You know, you’re the only one who I’ll let help me. You’re the only one I deeply trust… Mother..”

Mother made a pained noise, feeling the sadness Y/n had now been washed over. Y/n’s eyes dulled, feeling the emptiness he had in his heart before his shopping trip. This always happened, no matter how good a day Y/n had, he would go back to his numb and apathetic heart. Y/n finally stood in front of the door of his house. He took the bags from Mother, and opened the door gently, trying not to make a sound.

Y/n wasn’t quiet enough to keep everyone asleep, well, that’s what he thought when he felt his younger brother watching him. Lucas was worried about Y/n as he was out. Y/n left in the early afternoon and only came back late into the night. Before Lucas could even walk up and confront his older brother, he noticed one of the many books Y/n was carrying fall out of the bag. Lucas let Y/n go to his room to isolate once more, as he gently walked to the book on the floor. He read the title to himself, as it seemed whatever higher being out there had answered his prayers, a way to finally bond with his brother.

After Y/n had dropped that one volume accidentally, Lucas had become so fond of Tokyo Revengers. He had begged his parents to get an anime streaming service so he could watch it, and to also let Y/n watch it in hopes of watching it together. That hope was slowly crushed when Y/n found the account information and only isolated himself even further. Lucas tried plan B, begging for more volumes of Tokyo Revengers, and various other series, for his birthday and for other holidays and giving them to Y/n. Y/n would walk into his room and see a new volume on his desk with a note placed against it.

Y/n always discarded the notes, thinking they were from the ghosts, and quickly read through the new volume he had his hands on. Lucas watched from the crack of the door, sadness weighing down on his chest. He was still very patient, knowing sooner or later Y/n would come up to him and talk about their similar interests. Lucas had kept up with the series, and tried to impress Y/n whenever he was around his older brother. Y/n never thought anything of it, only a boy younger than him ranting about his interests.

Lucas tried so hard for two years trying to connect with Y/n over anime. There were times where Lucas had thought he made it through to his older brother, only to find out it was a brief moment of Y/n's good moods. Lucas had become so caught up in trying to get approval from his brother that it seeped into his other relationships with friends.

Y/n's family issues didn't get any better either. His father had died a year ago, and it took so much from Y/n. He didn't feel connected to his father, but it was way more than his mom. Y/n cried the most he had ever had over a person that night, and it pained Lucas. His death was unknown to Y/n but his mom blamed him for it.

Y/n had to suffer a whole year of scowling looks from his mom, and Lucas had noticed the change. Lucas tried to find out why their mom was treating Y/n this way, but every time he asked, their mom just dismissed it. A year had passed since then and things had become more distant with Y/n and his family. The desires to be in his daydreams grew with every incontinence he faced. However now that he was 17, he could look forward to forging his own life.

Y/n almost being done with school and getting ready to move out and live on his own created so many good feelings within him. This time had been Y/n's happiest because of the hope of Y/n being alone and not having to worry about his parents. Mother was also very excited because she got to see somewhere new and Y/n was feeling better. The other ghosts had soaked up the excited energy, using this as a way to get their messages across better. The ghosts had started to move things around and write on papers left around the floor.

It shocked Y/n that something as simple as his happiness caused such a reaction in the ghosts and shadows around him. To celebrate the good feelings, Y/n was gonna read in the park. All the ghosts, new and old, were ready to join him outside and see the bright sunny day. To Lucas, however, there was this dread that hovered over him.

He had this need to follow Y/n, knowing of his plans to read in the park, to keep him safe. Y/n and the shadows that surrounded him didn't notice Lucas' presence, Lucas following close behind. Once Y/n had reached the park, he took a seat on a soft patch of grass. Y/n had this content smile that amazed Lucas. Lucas had only ever seen Y/n look sad or numb.

Y/n was rereading the first volume of Tokyo Revengers, kicking his feet as he got sucked into his daydreams. Lucas felt something painful settle in his heart. He felt so jealous that a book could make Y/n so happy, and all his attempts only ever made Y/n seem unhappy. Lucas had never felt this jealous, and he didn't understand why. He loved Tokyo Revengers too, so why was this hatred toward it?

Lucas didn't have much time to contemplate it as Y/n got up. Y/n didn't realize he had finished the book within an hour, and the day was still fresh. The warm sun beat down, letting Y/n bask in its warm glow. A soft smile graced Y/n’s lips as he turned his head to slightly gaze at the sun. Lucas was amazed at the scene in front of him, never had he seen his brother this content.

Y/n started to walk slowly across the street, not really paying attention. Lucas wasn’t far too behind, the dreadful feeling still present in his mind. Lucas wasn’t sure, but something bad was going to happen. Y/n held the book he just finished, looking down as he admired the cover. His mind went to his daydreams, and slowed down the most in the middle of the road.

Y/n turned his head when he heard the sound of frantic honking. His eyes stayed dull as he saw a truck coming straight down the hill, seemingly not stopping. He turned fully to face the truck out of subconscious, and Lucas just froze, watching the truck go at inhuman speeds down the hill. Lucas’ eyes watched Y/n, panic taking over his whole being. He didn’t know why Y/n turned to face the truck, but he wanted to push him out of the way.

The truck was barreling toward Y/n, and Y/n just stood there. He didn’t think he should move, something kept him tethered there. The surrounding ghosts were worried, their human they loved so much was going to die. Y/n’s mind finally got sucked out of his daydreams and registered there was a truck coming for him. Instead of moving, he just smiled, finding this entire situation hilarious.

“Seems truck-kun has finally come. It’s finally my turn!”

Y/n yelled out, but only himself could hear it. Lucas stared in disbelief, seeing Y/n’s attitude as he was about to get hit by a truck. For a brief moment, Lucas could hear the cries that were beyond the mortal plane. The truck came even closer to Y/n, now two feet away from him, and Y/n gripped the book tighter. In his mind, he hoped that the truck would hit him and that when he did, he would be transported to one of his many daydreams.

Y/n's whole world force as he waited for the truck to him. He didn't see anything move around him. He didn't hear the ghosts' worries or the bystanders cries for help. People were panicking, trying their best to save the boy that stood in the middle of the road. Y/n turned in head slightly, seeing white all around him. There was a distant voice he heard, calling his name.

“Y/n!”

The truck had crashed, leaving the bystanders to look in horror. Many screamed, and some stood in disbelief. The Tokyo Revengers book fell from Y/n’s hand as it fell onto the road. The white pages turned red as a pool of blood surrounded it. Y/n’s body lay next to it, where his hand used to be seemed to be grabbing it. His last hope in life was that story, the daydreams that sprouted from the manga.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

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rriinnnie · 7 months

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reach you | suna rintaro x reader

bandau!guitarist! suna rintaro x singer!reader

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧

PROLOGUE

it’s in the middle of december when sixteen year old y/n encounters the nineteen years old suna rintarou for the first time. Two orphans who decide to start a band and eventually bond like family to overcome the shitty world they live in. As years goes by they come to the conclusion that they can’t live without one another anymore as they become one thing together - inseparable - to the point where it is too toxic.

However it seems like destiny has different plans for them as they have to saparate ways in order to achieve their dreams and goals.

Is their love strong enough?

Two hot headed people who face each other again after long 4 years. Now y/n is 20 and Rintaro, who is now 23, is the famous and handsome guitarist of NoMemories.

“Rin is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of - I am sure of one thing - his and mine are the same”

WARNINGS: smoking, use of drugs, swearing, toxic relationship, nsfw, sex, vulgar and strong language, rehab, addiction, anxiety, mental illness, depression

AUTHOR’S COMMENT: ATTENTION THIS IS NANA INSPIRED - MOSTLY REN AND NANA’S RELATIONSHIP - CUZ I LOVE IT SO MUCH SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SIMILAR TO THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE. BUT I WANTED TO CREATE A SIMILAR STORY WITH SUNARINN CUZ I NEED MORE STORIES OF HIM BEING IN A BAND

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧

~ CHARACTERS INTRODUCTION ~

y/l/n y/n is the lead vocalist of the popular punk band of Revival. Y/n is a tall/short young woman in her early twenties with long/short c/h hair. Numerous characters have stated Y/N as beautiful.

She’s kind hearted and devoted to her friends. However, after being abandoned by her family, she slowly develops abandonment issues which leads her to become quite selfish towards the people she loves - not wanting them to think about anything but her. She spent her childhood alone - refusing to be sent in an orphanage. Therefore she learns to take care of herself.

Despite insisting that she wants to be independent Y/N often turns to Osamu and mostly Eita for help.

In her teenage years she’s rebellious, intimidating and cold - often addressed as “cold princess” even in present time. This changes when Osamu breaks through her icy exterior and presents her to his childhood friends Rintaro and Eita, both grown into the same orphanage.

When she first lays eyes on Suna Rintaro, she feels mesmerized and captivated not only by his look - especially his bright olive eyes - but because of his talent. Therefore she finds herself accepting the offer to join the band - and this is where their love story begins.

Suna Rintaro is the popular guitarist of NoMemories. Before moving to Tokyo he was previously the guitarist for Revival. Ever since he was a kid he has always being called “the prodigy of music”.

Rintaro was an orphan who was abandoned right after his birth. Subsequently, he stayed at the same orphanage as Eita. After Semi was adopted, Rintaro frequently visited his friend, so much so that his foster mother offered to adopt him, an offer which he refused.

Later, he formed a band, Revival, with Eita as the leader and bassist, himself as guitarist, Osamu as drummer and Y/N as lead vocals. He also fell in love with her. However, despite the band being quite popular, he was offered to join NoMemories, but declined because of Y/N. With Eita convincing him, after a while he then joined Nomemories as their lead guitarist. As he left, he and Y/N tearfully broke up.

Rintaro is very handsome, has dark brown, slightly combed down hair, with few strands sticking out at the top of his head and middle-parted bangs. He has grayish-yellow narrow eyes.

Despite being popular he suffers from anxiety which is why he often relies on drugs to calm down - to the point where he becomes an addict. Eita feels responsible for it as he knew that Suna couldn’t live in this industry especially under people constant judgement and being followed by ossessive fans and paparazzi.

He was able to quit drugs for a few months but fell into the abyss of addiction once again.

Despite Eita, Osamu and his Nomemories’ bandmates awareness about his problem, he keeps Y/N in the dark - not wanting her to have a different view of him.

Semi Eita is the popular leader and bassist of Revival. He handles most of the band's business related matters. He is a long-time friend of Suna Rintaro, with whom he created Revival.

When he was little, both of his parents were killed in a car accident, and was therefore put into the same orphanage as Rintaro.

He is older than the others, and the only one of them who has higher education, so Osamu sometimes teases him by calling him "old man". Ever since he met Y/N, Eita has been an older brother figure for her and sometimes Osamu, and acted as Y/N’s "guardian". While he admits to being in love with her, he baits Rintaro to steal her from him in order to convince him to quit his addiction. However Rintaro says that Eita - since they were kid - has always let him have what ever he wanted - to the point that Semi had to give up on his feelings towards Y/N.

Eita looks after her in place of Rintaro, who can not.

Eita has thick and messy ash blonde hair with dark grey tips. His eyebrows are black, contrasting his hair. His eyes are brown and sharply shaped, and he's often seen with a small scowl on his face. He has a lean but muscular build.

Miya Osamu is the drummer of the popular punk band of Revival and was the only person able to befriend Y/N during high school — with whom he coincidentally began their shared love for punk music.

Osamu is a kind and caring guy, willing to stand up for people he cares for and for what he believes is right. He’s very friendly which is why he has a lot of friends. Especially he enjoys being around people who are different, unique, even strange. He is a curious person, who loves to seek out something new and unusual in the world.

He always cares for Y/N’s well-being and tends to have a sense loyalty towards her - resulting to be the first one to be able to stand most of Y/N's tantrums.

He also highly respects Rintaro and idolizes him - dreaming to be one day as good as him.

However when he discovers that Rintaro’s doing drugs again he feels powerless and scared to lose him.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧

EXTRAS:

- NoMemories memeber’s will be revealed soon

- Eita refers to Suna as Rintaro while Osamu calls him Sunarin

- Y/N refers to Suna as Rin

- they often call each other bastard, punk, fucker

- Rintaro loves to tease Y/N and often calls her “princess”

- when Revival reunites in Tokyo they start to look for another guitarist

- Revival’s new guitarist will be revealed soon

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧

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arkiliastuff · 2 months

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Prologue - In a Concrete Jungle

Noah Sebastian x OFC (Aurey)

(pictures edited by me. Originals url linked on the pictures.)

A/N : I thought about this one for a while and, even though I have a lot of other fanfics that are waiting to be finished/written, I wanted to share this one in particular with you :D It's been on my mind for months, the lore maturing in my head. It's going to be a LOT different from what I usually write but I'm trying things and despite the dark mood in this story I hope you'll enjoy it as well ! :D

Warnings/Tags : Strangers/Enemies to Lovers trope, violence, blood, post-apocalyptical universe, cyber-futuristic vibe, "no god, no religion" vibe (I don't mean any form of disrespect in any religion), mention of trauma, death, loss, drugs, mental and physical abuse, trust and abandonment issues. (Just in case MDNI please).

Disclaimer : I haven’t read the comic book “Concrete Jungle” written by Noah Sebastian and illustrated by many cover artists such as Nicola Izzo, Jeremy Wilson and many more, so I don’t know much about the lore and the universe. I just got inspired by the song and the few panels of the comic book that I saw about it. The rest is a pure work of my imagination and it’s not related to anything official. Nothing is canonically official. This is totally fanfiction. And so this is how I pictured the world in the song “Concrete Jungle”.

~The little bean taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @talialovesmiw -> ask me if you want to be tagged :D

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━

She walked there, in this desolate landscape, with a strong determination. Two girls who seemed to look like her friends were following her, looking behind them briefly. Probably afraid of someone or something that will come after them. After all, they went out without authorization. They went out in this no man’s land, caused by gangs and mafias. Many civilians had perished. The survivors were hiding underground, in the subway. The reason why they went outside was because one of them, a girl with glasses and blue eyes, forgot her necklace at the church where she always went to pray. So after complaining to her friends about her precious loss, the strong-willed brunette who was among them decided to go and get the necklace back. The two other friends eventually followed her even though they were feeling nervous about disobeying.

“If we hurry, we will be back in no time” She said, trying to reassure her anxious friends.

And so, just like the bold brown-haired girl said, they arrived at the place. The church had been bombed. The two girls felt sad about the destruction, but the leader didn't seem to be moved by it. Instead, she was more focused on her mission, looking for the necklace, while making sure nobody would come to arrest them. She was in hypervigilance, almost looking paranoid. She looked everywhere under the seats and chairs that were still there until she saw something shiny. She reached for it and then wiped the dust on it. It was a crux with a silver chain.

“I found it, Faith.” She stated, calling for her friend.

The latter one walked towards her, analyzing what she found before realizing what it was.

“It's my necklace ! Thank you so much, Audy !” Faith replied happily, using the usual friendly nickname for her friend.

The latter one just nodded in silence, her focus back on her group and looking for their second friend.

“Where is Daisy ?”

The two of them looked around the ruined church before they saw the red-haired girl who was near some candles next to a shrine of prayer. She lit up a candle and prayed in silence for their sake. Faith joined Daisy, lighting up a candle as well while Audy was watching them, starting to get annoyed.

“Come on guys, we cannot stay here too long.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Daisy replied.

A few seconds later a breeze came through, extinguishing the timid flames on the two candles. From this moment, Faith and Daisy stood up and stopped praying, turning on their heels at the same time towards Audy.

“We’re done.” The first one said.

“The Lord has heard our prayers.” The second added.

“What ? Already ? But you just lit the candles a few minutes ago” Audy replied, confusion in her eyes.

“It is the way it is. It’s probably a good omen” Faith said.

“Wait.. Let me just light the candles again.” The brunette said sheepishly.

As she was going slowly to the shrine, about to light the candles with another one, both of her friends widened their eyes in shock, attempting to stop her.

“DON’T !” Daisy yelled.

“DON’T DO IT, AUDREY ! You’re disrespecting His words !”

The long browned-haired one stopped her movement in the air, the spark just above the candle’s wick reaching it slowly but surely. Then, she looked at Faith and Daisy, an angry and dead gaze in her dark eyes.

“Even if I lit up those candles again, do you think it would change a fucking thing for what happened to our city ? To our families ? To our friends ?” She replied, clenching her teeth together as she spat her words like venom, anger getting the best of her, before she continued.

“No, it wouldn’t. Don’t take that fucking breeze as a sign from your Lord, ‘cause you two know better that, if He wanted to help us, He would have done it already. We are responsible for our own downfall. For our own misery. And no Gods will ever help us. Only the demons that you’re afraid of will answer us because they're close to what we are.”

After that, she saw the shock on her friends' faces, trying to reach out to her and yelling at her that she was irreverent by saying those words. It was the shock before the sound of something falling as fast as lightning just dropped on the ruined church. And then everything exploded. Bricks of the building were thrown away at Daisy and Faith’s head, knocking them out immediately. Audrey got hit as well, feeling her blood flowing from her face before blurring her vision. The last thing she saw was her two friends on the ground, blood running from their heads. Then, it went completely white.

━─━「₪」━─━

Aurey woke up, sweating all over her body as she was panting, trying to gain some air. She put a hand on her forehead, trying to wipe the sweat away and checking it. There wasn’t any blood. She sighed in relief but not too long. She knew it couldn’t be just a dream.

“This wasn’t just a nightmare” She whispered to herself, knowing too well this situation.

She stood up, got her gear on her and packed her stuff together before leaving the spot where she slept. She knew she shouldn’t have slept there.

It was a small cave of collapsed buildings parted together which were composed of cables, metal pieces of broken engines everywhere.

It could crumble any minute. But she took the risk anyway, as she felt this one was more safe. She didn’t know how long she slept but she was aware it was late. Once she got out, she covered her nose as she smelled an heavy and toxic smoke. It was the smell of somewhat burned vehicles and trash cans not that far away. It was, probably, another threat from a gang who were arguing again in the city.

She put her customized respirator on, breathing again. Then, she started to climb up the ruins, reaching for a higher spot to get a better view. She climbed a few minutes after finding a window, which gave a great opening view from below. She took her binoculars out of her pocket and started to look around.

Through it, Aurey saw a usual wildfire in the city, on her right. She could barely hear the sound of gunshots. A lot was happening and she hoped her teammates could handle it while she went patrolling on her own. Suddenly she saw something blinking, in the corner of her left lens. She turned a bit more to her left and saw a black car entering the Nameless City. She had never seen a car like this before. This was the first time that she had witnessed new people arriving. Who could they be ? And why were they coming into this hell hole ? She made a mental note to herself to keep an eye on this vehicle and the people who were in it.

Meanwhile, Noah was lost in his thoughts as they were passing through the barbed wire gate of the city. He was just getting bored of the trip, having no idea why they got a call to come here. His partners and best friends in the car told him it was a well-paid mission, but he wasn’t really convinced by it. They had to do some cleanup as they were told. And given the sight of the city it seemed this town needed it. What was left of the police authorities were just broken cars, with no more tire or windows. They probably run away from all the chaos, just to survive somewhere else. Just being out of this mess. Noah kept staring through the window, his chin in the palm of his tattooed hand, just looking at all the clutter those crumbled buildings had made.

“A real concrete jungle…” He muttered.

Then he heard a howl. He was taken by surprise, not expecting to hear such a sound in this kind of city. He listened again, opening his window just to hear it more clearly. Another howling. It wasn’t human. It sounded more like an animal.

“ What was that ? Did you guys heard that ?” He said, his eyes widened as he couldn’t believe his ears.

"Heard what ?" Folio asked, not really paying too much attention to their surroundings.

"A howl. It sounded like a coyote. Or was it a wolf ?" Noah continued, his ears attentive to any other sound.

But the howling animal had stop. He still had no idea what his friends and him were getting into but he promised himself to investigate this strange city.

#bad omens #bad omens fanfic #concrete jungle #bad omens band #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #joakim jolly karlsson #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #noah sebastian x ofc #in a concrete jungle fic #concrete jungle fic

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and-claudias-world · 10 months

Text

Against All Odds pt. 2 (Joel Miller x fem! Reader)

Word Count: 2154

Warnings: mentions of suicide/self harm, PLEASE do not read if these are triggering for you

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit

A/n after this there is going to be a few year time jump to get into the good stuff

Taglist Sign-Up (read my rules carefully before filling it out)

“This is insane, Joel.” I said after we climbed out of the window of the museum.

The only way to go from here is some sketchy-looking scaffolding. It went over the breezeway of the two buildings.

“It’s fine. Tess and I have crossed it dozens of times.”

I looked at it again, still unsure.

“I mean you can always head back, sweetheart.” He teased slightly, knowing there was no way in hell I’d walk back to the QZ alone.

“Fine… you go first.” I said.

I watched as he went across and then turned to watch me.

“Just keep your eyes on me, okay?”

I nodded and stepped up onto the plank of wood. My legs were a little shaky but I took one step, and then another, and another. Eventually, I made it across.

“Alright now, come here.” he nodded for me to follow him.

He brought me to the edge of the building. From there I could see all of what used to be the whole city of Boston. It was bigger than what I could remember it being when we first came here.

“See that building with the dome?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“That would have been Massachusetts State House.”

“Because Boston was the capital of Massachusetts, right?” I asked.

Since I had never really gotten the opportunity to go to a real school, and school after the breakout consisted more of basic knowledge and how to survive, I never got the chance to learn things like the state capitols.

“Yup, every state had a building like that too. If you ask me, Texas had the best, it was beautiful. But I may be a bit biased.”

I laughed along with him.

“We need to get going.” Tess said from where she stood.

Joel nodded then gestured to an old, rusty, slightly mangled ladder in front of us, “After you.”

I sighed, of course, there were more sketchy routes to take to our destination. Regardless I walked over and swung my leg out onto the rungs and began climbing down as Joel and then Tess followed behind me.

When we got back down to the ground Tess led the way down the streets. We turned onto another one and the capitol building was straight ahead of us. As we got closer and passed more buildings and abandoned cars Joel watched me as I looked all around me taking it all in. When we finally made it to the building Joel let go of my hand that he had been holding since we got off the ladder and grabbed his gun. I took that as my cue to grab my knife as well and undo the top of my gun holster to have it ready.

Tess once again led the way into the building, luckily there was no welcome party for us there. Once we made it through there we crossed a bit more land until we made it into a wooded area, and then into forested land. As we got closer to the trees though, I froze dead in my tracks. Memories began flooding my mind again.

“Hey,” Joel said gently as he stepped in front of me, “You’re going to be okay. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Alright? I’ve got you.” He squeezed my hands as if to confirm what he had just said.

“What’s the issue? We need to keep moving before it gets too dark.” Tess said from about 10 yards ahead of us.

“Give us just a second.” Joel said back before turning to me, “You gonna be okay?”

I slowly nodded, “Don’t let go of my hand.”

“I won’t.”

We continued walking. I wasn’t too sure how far we had gone but it had gotten dark so we found a place to rest for the night. Then the next morning we continued traveling. Then we finally saw it.

“Holy shit! He built all of that?!” I said.

Joel laughed at my reaction as we got closer and closer to the fence. When we got right up to it, I let go of Joel’s hand as he went to the keypad and opened it. We walked in, it didn’t take us long to be greeted by who I could only assume was Bill and Frank.

Soon enough we were all sitting at a table eating together. It was some of the best food I had ever had. Then Frank brought out a bottle of wine. Real wine. The cork was still in it and everything. I had only had the homemade stuff.

He poured some for Tess and Joel before stopping at me.

"How old are you?"

"21…"

"21? Damn you're just baby aren't ya!" Bill chimed in.

I laughed off his comment, “I mean age just how long you've been here, doesn't really mean much more than that."

Truthfully, I was insecure about my age sometimes. Joel and I had met right after I had turned 20. He told me how old he was but that didn’t bother me at the time… but then again I wasn’t really planning on falling in love with him.

"Oh come on, you probably don't even remember the breakout. You were what, four?" Tess asked.

I stiffened up in my chair, "Five actually-"

"Still no one remembers life that early. You've only ever known the QZs."

"I was wearing a pink dress." I mumbled.

"What?" Joel asked.

"I said, I was wearing a pink dress. My knees were scraped up from falling off my bike earlier that week, I still have the faint scar from picking at the one on my left knee..." I began to recite the details of September 26th, 2003, "We had a creek on the back of our property that my 6 older brothers played at. I was never allowed down there because the current was too strong. But it had been a dry summer and the water level was low. My youngest brother, Alan, who was still 8 years old than me had asked if I could go to the creek and play with them. Just until Ma got home. Pa gave in and allowed me to go. We spent the whole afternoon playing hide and seek, splashing in the water, climbing trees and just having fun.”

“As the sun set we headed back for the house. We ate dinner. I took my bath and went to bed. I wasn't sure how long I was asleep but the next thing I knew my oldest brother, Scott was scooping me up out of bed, grabbing my teddy for me, and running us out to the van. I remembered crying. Scott was holding me in his lap as our dad sped out of the driveway and down the street. I just remember crying and panicking. I didn’t see Ma with us.”

“For the longest time, I pressed the memory down. Refusing to let it resurface. But eventually, as I got older I realized what I had seen before we were out of the house. At first, I thought maybe it just looked like Ma, there was no way it could be her... but I know now that it was her... what was left of her anyways. She was hunched over my brother Alan…”

I stopped and took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. The image was too much for me to explain.

"Beside her laid Roy and Marc lifeless... and that was just the first day of the outbreak. In 2008 I watched Chris take his last breaths as I scrambled to try and cut him down from the noose he made himself. Up until his last days, my father blamed me for that. If only I had been quicker to cut him down then maybe he would still be here. Seven years ago Zeak got offed… he missed a deadline or something. Got shoved off a building. You remember that story of the poor country boy who got too big for his britches? Yesh that was my brother.”

“Shit 4 years ago I was holding Scott as he bled to death in my arms after getting shot by Fire Flies. A year ago I helped Joel throw my father into the burn pits… so yeah, Tess, I may be young, but that doesn't mean that I haven't seen some shit. My age doesn't discredit what I've been through. I may not have lost a husband or a wife or a child, but I still lost family, just like you. I don't discredit you, so don't you dare do it to me!"

I stood abruptly as I finished speaking, causing the chair I was sitting in the fall over.

"Excuse me." I snapped before storming off.

3rd person PoV

"I'm not trying to discredit her experiences, I'm just saying she's young and inexperienced in some things. Her little outburst and storming off proves that." Tess said.

"Tess. Stop it." Joel said sternly.

"Seriously? You're gonna defend her?"

"You have been kinda harsh on her." Frank said.

"I'm going to go check on her." Joel said, wiping his mouth before standing up.

He found her sitting with her back against the back of the house, wiping the tears from her eyes still.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked gently.

"I'm sorry. I know crying like a baby back here probably isn't helping my case right now. Don't worry I won't come back out here with y'all ever again. Not until I'm older and more experienced." She said bitterly.

Joel took a seat beside her.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. Tess laid into you for no reason... I had no idea you went through all that..."

"I haven't talked about it for a reason. It hurts. Like I know everybody lost something when the outbreak happened. And everyone knows that there are people who have lost everything. But knowing that those people are out there and actually being the one that it happened to are two completely different things. You know?"

Joel nodded and took a deep breath before letting it out. When he exhaled it was clearly shaky.

"I had a daughter..."

Yn turned to him with wide eyes and he nodded, not looking at her as he continued.

"Her name was Sarah... I lost her the day of the outbreak..."

It made sense now. Yn knew that Joel's birthday was the same day as the outbreak. She figured that that was the reason why he never wanted to celebrate. But now she understood it was more than that.

"She wasn't even infected. Or killed by an infected... she had hurt her ankle... I was carrying her. We were trying to get to safety, we were stopped, by a military man. I tried to tell him that we weren't sick... he fired at us... she died in my arms..."

"Joel... I had no idea..." she was at a loss for words.

"How could you of known? I don't talk about it for the same reason you don't talk about your brothers. It hurts. I lost my baby girl... I tried to join her... that's how I got this." He point to the scar on his temple, "I flinched when I pulled the trigger."

He looked down at his lap as if he were ashamed of his admission.

"Hey, it's okay..." she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, "I've tried to join my brothers more than once. I got close. Passed out a few times. Every time I woke up, bandaged up. My brothers or father always kept me here... I was planning to do it one last time, get it over with the day my dad got tossed into the burn pit... but I met you..."

“Maybe it was the universe or some shit keeping us here because we were supposed to meet.” He said only half joking.

“You don’t believe in that bullshit.” She laughed.

“No, I don’t.” He admitted, “But I am glad you stuck around.”

“You too.”

1st Person PoV

Later that day Frank was showing me around his garden and allowing me to take back a few things with us.

“So you and Joel?” He asked out of the blue.

“So me and Joel, what?”

“How long have you been together?”

I laughed at his question, “We’re not together.”

“Oh really?”

“Well, not technically… I honestly don’t know what we are…”

“You care for him, do you not?”

I nodded.

“I thought so… and boy the way he looks at you… he’s got it bad.” He said smiling to himself.

I looked over my shoulder to see Joel talking the Bill by the side of the house. And for the first time ever I allowed myself to truly think about a future with him. I wasn’t too sure what it would look like, but I knew I loved him and I wanted to be with him.

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hexonthepeach · 9 months

Text

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 0: prologue

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate's clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3]

It was always your mother's plan to escape the Dome when flood season began.

You think, maybe, the heavens had taken her prayers far too literally.

The rain had begun the moment you'd stepped foot on your commandeered fishing boat–forced to steer into the mist towards the neon skies so far off, away from the slums built up against the Dome’s seawall.

She’d guided your control on the craft rather than steer, barking orders at you over the buffet of waves. Over and over again she's told you the plan–the destination. The standard issue wrist agent with your seasonal background blinks with the coordinates she'd encrypted into it.

It hadn't been the first indication that she knew she might have to abandon you.

You wanted to be home. In two days you were supposed to attend your confirmation–the Imperial robes laid out in ceremony in your quarters, adjustments made up until the end.

They'd taken special care to incorporate your grandmother's engagement gown into the design, hand-embroidering yards of silk and transparent tulle to mimic the tail you had yet to fully grow. Your ears were just beginning to migrate, covered in hair in the awkward transition from the side of your skull to where a fox's should be.

This was supposed to be your moment. You were to be a Queen, finally allowed the freedom and company you’d been promised for so long.

Instead of a debut you're faced with a century’s storm, your hands torn to bleeding from hanging onto the rust-and-barnacle coated bars of an ancient fire escape as gale force winds try to tear you off.

A new gust of wind blasts you weightless as an NSMR autodyne explodes into view. Its searchlight darts from the abandoned boat smashed by the waves below to skitter across the decimated side of a neighboring building, swinging inevitably towards your mother’s feet as they disappear above.

"Hurry!" You hear her shout.

"Wait!" you scream out but it may as well be a whisper. Adrenaline propels you up–up–up–light cutting through the horizontal sheet of rain towards you, just as you're gripped and pulled into the nearest broken window.

"Down," your mother yells, pushing you to the floor. You lay prone against broken glass and debris, clinging to her arm as the bluish eye of the aircraft appears outside.

Mannequins are illuminated a ghostly white, green lasers criss-crossing their eyeless faces. When the searchlight passes, you both flatten against the wall, eyes shut against the dust from the tail rotor.

It feels like an eternity before the thunder of the aerodyne's blades recede, the ancient department store dark once more.

"We can't stop moving," your mother says, checking the sky before dragging your exhausted body up to your feet. "They'll be back soon."

"Where can we go?" you shout, terror making you combative. "We're trapped here. We should just turn ourselves–"

Her hand strikes your cheek hard, ringing your head. "If you go back, you die," she repeats for the thousandth time. "No matter what happens, you run."

And then she's rushing off again, leaving you nodding at her back as she heads deeper into the abandoned floor, a blur even after you've wiped the tears into your soaked windbreaker.

Deeper inside the building the screaming winds are replaced by the echo of water streaming down from points above, into an open space where escalators disappear into the darkness below. The grid is offline, but solar powered striplights outline the floors, shadowed by nature overtaking them. The central atrium is a veritable jungle, waterfalls from the leaking roof splashing on dinner-plate size leaves and hanging vines.

It's strange to consider that this place was once inhabited and purposeful; now it's a neglected cemetery stripped of everything valuable. The signs have been extinguished for half a century. Eerily dark storefronts like caverns encircle a central tunnel leading to the flooded waterline below.

"Do you hear that?" Your mother tilts her head, and your fox ears follow suit, perking forward. You grip the railing to peer into the chasm, seeing nothing but a deep void surrounded by concentric rings of blue fading into purple.

"It sounds like a river," you say.

"It's an old subway station.” She ignores your querying look, bringing up a map on her agent. “We're elevated enough to access a line that's not submerged. It's dangerous, but it's safer than being out there. We just need to find an emergency exit–"

"Wait," you interrupt, tilting your chin up as you look out from under your hood. A pulsing sound, like a heartbeat, grows louder, approaching. For a moment, you fail to understand the change in texture on the ceiling, a lightening of the green-black like the sun has emerged.

Then the thick, translucent layer fractures like ice, caving in.

The flooded rooftop's water appears to freeze in midair, refracting into a million rainbows from the searchlight of the autodyne hovering above it.

The illusion shatters as the break widens, a sinkhole in the sky.

There's no escape this close to the deluge of water and debris collapsing from two floors above. You're thrust against the guardrail as it buckles, plummeting into the darkness below with a scream that's engulfed by the roaring water long before you reach the bottom.

Breaking the surface is surreal. Your eyes remain open as you're plunged deep into the black depths feet-first, twisting your body to land with as little surface area as possible, immediately fighting to find up once the shock recedes.

A horrible cascade of broken sections of rooftop sink around you, trails leading from the silver plane above. You follow, lungs burning, almost losing your entire breath at the whump of impact as something huge and heavy hits, pushing you down.

Every muscle burns as you swim, swim, swim to the edge of the concrete block–climbing up and over until it's beneath you. The vacuum left in its wake sucks you down, but you keep kicking until you're free, finding the remains of an escalator to cling to and pull yourself up, using the thick roots entwined around its broken handrail.

You’re out of the worst here–just the patter of water broken by plantlife filling your mouth and nose as you cry out for your mother.

She's nowhere to be seen, or heard.

Something else answers your call.

A white light appears overhead, shadows scattering. The gusts from the hovering autodyne blow down, blinding you as the water is pulled into heavy chop.

"This is a NSMR rescue, stay where you are–" A robotic voice orders, distorted by the chamber.

You duck down underwater. This time you can see the horrible debris field beneath you, lit stark by the slanting rays of light.

The mossy bottom is closer than you imagined, brought near by a fresh layer of translucent plasticine and concrete. Air bubbles roil up, and you scan any of them for her–

–there, amidst the moon-like rubble, a white hand emerges along with a fall of dark hair.

You don't think, you act–taking a deep breath and diving back down. You’re tugged by an underwater current sucking you into it until you can grab onto a length of rebar from the section of roof keeping your mother trapped in the deep.

What you thought was just her hair is also a ruddy cloud seeping from a laceration across her forehead. Her mouth is ajar, spewing bubbles.

You have hope still, seeing that blood flow and that air.

All you need to do is get her out and force the water out of her lungs. She’s all you have left in this world, and though you’d resented her for ripping you from the comfort of your life you can’t imagine returning to it without her.

And so you work to free her, the seconds ticking down in your mind. There’s no give when you pull her arm. You crawl beside her, using your back and burning legs to push with all your might against the slab pinning her body.

You feel the slightest movement behind you, adrenaline powering your efforts to widen the gap as you readjust and push again, tugging on her clothing to try and loosen her.

It’s such a struggle that you don’t register the shadow of death falling over you both.

Suddenly there's something–someone–in the water, between you and the light.

You turn to see nothing that makes sense, darkness smothering you as an arm wraps around your neck and arm and pulls you up. You have to stifle the urge to scream, instead fighting back–clawing and twisting like a dying fish as your rescuer struggles to hold onto you.

Your immature frame is no match for an adult, male captor–not as you're pulled free and dragged towards the surface, hand splayed towards the blurring image of your mother's dying body.

There's only animal instinct driving you when you let water gush into your mouth, opening it underwater to bite, hard, into the pale flash of wrist encircling your chest.

Your teeth are sharper than most, your hybrid's jaw even stronger. You can feel the bone crunch as you choke.

You have a moment of blissful relief, suspended, before your oxygen-starved brain tries to breathe in one last time. The delicious taste on your tongue is washed away by brick-heavy, icy water.

And then you drown.

Dying feels strangely calm, in the face of everything else. Your vision goes red-to-black as you're swept deeper, that riptide current of an underground river dragging you away.

One last glimpse of your mother is captured in your mind's eye, as if a hallucination: her arm outstretched towards you, eyes open and unreflecting, beckoning you into the dark.

And beside her, something inhuman–monstrous–reaching to embrace you in her stead.

Blue-violet light seeps between your eyelids, your ears muffled.

You're drowning again–this time in air as you vomit up the fluid in your lungs. Your body is wracked again, and again, by its will to survive.

Gloved hands hold your face to the side, tugging wet strands of hair away and pressing against your pulled-back ears. It takes you a long time to realize that you’re being soothed like you were a child, this time by a stranger.

You can't help but cry, disoriented.

"Eomma, eomma," you repeat when you can speak, voice burnt away from choking.

"She's alive," someone says, handheld light arcing over your blinking eyes. “Good, less paperwork.”

“Shut up,” the person holding you says, voice bitter. “I need you on patrol in case he comes back.”

“He was fine before you shot at him–”

“I’m not worried about him.”

Your chest hurts so much, cold and stabbing with each breath. Your mouth tastes like you've sucked mud from a copper coin. Something other than bile burns your nostrils. It's a new scent–not the mildew and construction smell of the mall but frighteningly natural.

You've only recently come into your designation, you have yet to build your canid scent memory, but this is something utterly alien to you–green and citrus and–

"She'll make it,” the other man says.

The man holding you cradles you, rubbing your back as you splutter up what feels like another lungful. "Can you hear me, ____?"

At the sound of your name you twitch against his hold, kicking until he lets you go.

Run, she’d said. She’d told you to run.

You scramble in a layer of loam and dead leaves until you’re at the edge of the light, at the lip of the moss-coated pit. The water has already receded a few feet below, dark and calm.

"She's gone," the man grabs onto your shoulders to keep you from throwing yourself back in. "I'm sorry. We'll bring her home too, I promise."

You sob wordlessly, body folding into a circle as reality crashes down on you again along with the fierce pain flaring in your right shoulder, radiating into your skull and spine.

"I need to treat her. Arm with boosters and stay alert."

"He couldn't have attacked her. He did life support. It had to be an accident–" The man standing over you has a scratchy voice, deeper and more threatening as he protests the accusation.

"I don't care. If the kid doesn't bleed out she's at risk for bacterial infection. I have to treat her. You keep an eye out for Suh and dose him again on sight or I'll–"

"Or what, Moon? Last time I checked, Lee was in charge."

The man holding you trembles with rage. "Or I report this incident."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You know what the penalty is for going feral. And no anti-shift? At all? Just shut up and follow orders for once."

The other man goes silent, dropping the light to the ground and moving away from you both.

Your rescuer gently repositions you in his lap, exposing your neck and face to his scrutiny. At this angle you can see he has a serious but kind face, military haircut and NSMR name badge visible in the floodlight. Moon.

"Am I dying?" you croak out, raising your hand up to grip his vest as he rummages through a field kit.

"Not even close. But I need you to be a good girl and hold still. It's going to hurt."

"No," you say, eyes welling with tears. "Just let me go. I can't go back."

"Be strong for me, alright?" He holds your hand with his left in a textured glove, pouring something on your cheek. Suddenly you're burning alive from the outside in.

Even with your ruined voice, you're able to shriek.

The sound pierces the building, echoes disappearing into the static of flowing water. The fire in your skin rages with each new wash of antiseptic, the bottle emptied over you.

"Good girl," Moon soothes, his hand still in yours as he dabs away what feels like pure flame. He carefully unloosens your vise-like grip, setting you down to pull more supplies out.

"The worst part is over. We're going to bandage you up now. I may have to do stitches but I'll give you something for the pain first, okay? You're very brave–"

Tick-tick-tick.

You barely register his words, ears flicking towards the source of the sound–something rumbling overhead. Your gaze follows a moment too late as the shadow falls down from the thick foliage, shaking the ground when it hits.

"Fuck, Na–" Moon lets out a muffled yell as something huge descends on you both.

"No!" You croak, watching the medic swept bodily into the brush.

Bright flashes illuminate something terrifyingly large, moving at an otherworldly speed as it disappears into the leaves. More shots are fired, from another angle–somewhere overhead. The underbrush explodes with the return of the monster.

If the attacking creature was angry before now it's frenzied, rushing forward to swipe over you at the other man. You can't help but curl into a ball, afraid of the white flash of teeth and claws passing by overhead. Loam peppers your raised arms as you protect your fragile body.

And then, quiet. The breathing of the creature is inches from your nose–ribs expanding under an ocean of dark fur, as it stalks forward.

You brace for your end, knowing you can't stay quiet if he attacks you next.

"Stop. It's me." The other man shouts, voice changing pitch as he moves back. The gun clatters from his hand against a hard floor. "We're helping her."

The monster doesn't follow, crouched over you and snarling. You can see the flattened ears and broad-skulled profile of a large cat–not some jimseung hybrid form like in the war archive footage but fully animal, eyes slitted in rage.

The red tufts of tranquilizer darts emerge from its heaving side and neck. It doesn't appear to be going down anytime soon, roaring a final warning before turning its attention to its true prey.

You.

Instinct has you frozen, whimpering softly as that giant skull bends down to push your shoulder–testing if you're alive. You stay limp, shivering involuntarily. There's a hot chuff of breath on your exposed neck, and then the horrible sandpaper rasp of a tongue dragged across it, revealing wounds you hadn't even known were there.

There’s no way to stop from crying out at the new sting, the sound weak with the lack of energy left in your body.

Miraculously, the predator pulls away, giant form cringing. Through the slits in your closed eyes you watch it favor its right paw, licking at something shining in the LED’s glow.

"Dose him again." Moon's voice is a croak, the brush swaying a few meters away. You can’t help but be grateful he’s still alive.

“It could kill him.”

"I don't care." Moon says, exhausted. You hear a louder rustle as he drags himself back, the clicks of an ammo check and the cocking of a gun making your anxiety spike.

The cat snarls in his direction, collapsing beside you.

"Look. He's not hurting her," Na says. "He's protecting her."

You have no idea what's happening but the cat has settled beside you, choosing to lick your exposed forearm guarding your head. That warmth seeps into your frozen skin, threading deep into your pain-wracked limbs.

For reasons yet unknown to you, your body relaxes, tension easing by degrees as the animal that is your true self realizes there's no danger. Something else is making you act against any rational instinct, a hazily recognized similarity infusing your senses.

Protection. Home. Safety.

That green scent, bright with each rattling inhalation.

It's coming from him.

Agony and grief fade away, just background noise, as you move carefully to look up. The huge cat stills, mouth open. His amber eyes are mostly pupil with the infusion of drugs, unreactive to the bright glow of the lamp.

That alien gaze looks into you, something recognizable trapped within. You raise your hand, nails black with dirt and blood, quivering with the effort to stay calm.

His inky nose twitches forward, sniffing.

It feels like the answer to a question you hadn’t even asked when he pushes forward to rub against your offered touch, whiskers scratching your open palm.

The cat’s face rolls against your hand, dragging a hot lip and the edge of a thumb-sized fang to your wrist. You trace the dense fur over his dry nose up to the ridge of his forehead. Here the hide is softer, lighter and a different shade of black where rosette spots emerge.

You watch his eyes close in a vaguely human expression of pleasure. He makes a deep sound, that same rumble you’d heard before, minus aggression.

"Careful–" Moon warns.

"I'm fine," you say–knowing by the hollowness in your heart that you aren't, will never be.

At least this is within your control. Like a vignette from one of your leather-bound fairy tale books: the maid and the beast who’d decided it was better to serve her than eat her by some enchantment.

What enchantment? Something your mother had instructed in all those obtuse lessons about their methods of control–an easy thing that seems so hard to grasp with the pain and fear thundering within you.

When everything else fails, put them to sleep.

"You can sleep now, okay? Please sleep,” you urge the cat.

His purr seems to be an affirmation; he collapses in slow-motion, swaying a little as if fighting to the end. His head comes to rest beside yours, steam rising in the light with his breath–each more shallow than the last.

"Did you see that?"

The cat wakes at the voice, lip curling to expose yellow-white teeth again. A slow blink meets you eye to eye as you stroke his browline, soothing him into quiescence with the lightest of touches.

"We have a much bigger problem," Moon says, suddenly behind you. "I'm sorry, princess."

Something sharp pierces your neck, but you’re too tired to fight–too focused on staying quiet so the beast doesn’t stir.

There's a snarl but no movement besides the twitch of a paw, claws extending.

"Please . . ."

"What?" You have a glimpse of Moon's bloodied face. By the stinging in your own jaw you're a casualty of this encounter, too.

"Please . . . don't hurt him," you plead.

"No," Moon says, glancing at the body beside you. "We won't hurt anyone."

The other man appears over his shoulder, blurred by the sedative–eyes reflecting green in the dim.

"If you want to protect him, you'll keep quiet." The stranger says.

"Stop–" Moon says.

"You tell anyone and he dies, do you understand?" You know he's speaking to you, something flaring inside your belly. You can’t let anything happen to him–not your beast.

Your beast.

You nod, tears streaming from your cracked eyelids.

"Good girl," he says.

Movement in the corner of your eye surprises you, distantly aware of a rush of heat in the chill of the dank space. Your head lolls to the side, unable to register what you’re seeing–a drastic change in the hulking form before the floodlight is snuffed out.

His profile is burnt into your vision like an old photo negative, human shoulder dipping with each exhale, and a hand that was once a paw curled next to your own, as if reaching to hold it.

[next]

#agtbtb #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 omegaverse #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct 127 imagines #nct fic #nct imagines

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 4 months

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Abandonment Issues, Prologue (part 1)

Abandonment Issues comic, prologue: pages 1-5

I was going to finish th prologue and then post it all at once but it’s taking way longer than expected so uh. Shrug

(part 2: here!)

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polarisbibliotheque · 1 year

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Nemesis (Vergil x Reader) - Chapter 1, Prologue

Nemesis

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Abyss opening is a rare occurrence. In his youth, Vergil wanted to harness its power, but never thought he would meet his greatest adversary along the way. Years later, the Abyss is once again open and that might call for some rather unlikely alliances.

Age restriction: 18+ - there's a lot of blood, violence, cursing and all those things people want to forbid younger audiences of seeing. Also, cosmic horror is a thing here. Procceed with caution.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Vergil has a LOT of internal turmoil, and both main characters struggle with self-worth, self-hatred, abandonment issues, etc. The reader also gets seriously injured and humiliated in this chapter, so, again, proceed with caution. It gets dark and it might be too much for some people.

Author's notes: And so, it begins! I HOPE I'll be able to update this one weekly, but I don't know if my creativity will be that nice to me xD This is something that has been brewing for a while, based on my initial hatred for Vergil. Expect the slow burn of the century, they'll be hopeless and so friggin' proud in this one :)

Also I'm so proud of this header :')

Chapter 1 - Prologue

The city was swarming with demons.

Vergil had rarely seen anything like it – chaos took over, the streets stained with blood, the sky red with fire. He marched with resolve towards his objective, ignoring the demons terrifying humans.

There was nothing he could do. He wasn’t there to be a savior – only the strong survived and Vergil had no time to spare. He searched for power, and, if he took too long, his opportunity would be lost until another Abyss was open – and that could take years.

Vergil could feel the tingle in his hands, the stench from the demons in the Abyss. The closer he got, the fouler the smell of blood and rotten flesh. He inherited that enhanced sense from his father – and Vergil constantly questioned how Sparda could have lived in Hell for so long with that horrid reek engulfing him. It had to be something he discovered only after locking Hell behind himself.

All of his senses indicated the source of all mayhem was inside the building he had just entered – if it had been a church of sorts, a castle, some headquarters… Vergil wouldn’t know. Everything was destroyed beyond recognition, and he walked upon the rests of what was once inhabited by the humans who used to live in that city.

The Abyss was close. Soon to be near the reach of his fingertips: a source of power not even the most notorious demons had access to. Something ancient, beyond creation itself – source of salvation to some, source of damnation to others.

If Vergil was about to condemn his soul, it didn’t really matter. He had already been damned; since the day he was reborn on that fateful night his home was torn apart.

Another strange smell assaulted his senses, though. Vergil couldn’t quite tell what it was – no demon; that, he was certain. It was a scent of something that certainly did not belong to all that destruction…

And it came from behind a door within his reach – only a few steps away from the entrance of the courtyard: the place where the Abyss had manifested after centuries asleep.

Along with his human heart, came human curiosity. That inherent human feeling, always distracting Vergil from his path and quest for power. That incessant itch in the farthest corner of his soul that couldn’t be ignored – and that made him divert his steps towards that door.

As his hands were about to touch the sturdy wood that resisted the chaos, Vergil’s steps came to a halt when he felt another presence behind him.

“Not a step further, demon.”

And that presence was human.

Slowly turning back, hands already gripping the Yamato and ready for battle, Vergil found a set of eyes filled with fire and resolve. They had something inside them that bothered his spirit, for he did not know logically what it was – his heart, though, seemed to identify something he couldn’t quite put into words.

As you pointed your sword towards him, Vergil furrowed his brows.

“Step aside, human.”

“I will not let the likes of you roam this place.” You tilted your head upwards, revealing in the faint light of that godforsaken place the wounds and bruises that covered your face and neck. Vergil slightly narrowed his eyes; you must have been battling since all of that started. You were probably the last line of resistance of whatever humans lasted in that pitiful city. “Leave before I have to make you leave.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed even further – not because of analyzing more, but because of your words. How dare someone like you even entertain the possibility of making someone like him leave…?

His hands took their battle stance on the Yamato. You lowered your sword, reading his posture and correcting yours to get ready to fight him.

From all the demons you fought that day, he was the most… Different. They all looked like creatures from the darkest pits of Hell, blood thirsty, power hungry – either ready to kill and fulfill their bloodlust or trying to harness some of the power of the Abyss. But that one in a blue coat who stood before you… He looked human. Painfully human, even. If it wasn’t for the way he carried himself in that battlefield – the way he held his sword, the way his steps seemed so calm among the mayhem, the way his eyes carried only ice and rage – you would’ve deemed him human.

But you didn’t have to be a demon expert to know that blue coated young man was nothing but a demon like all the others you had fought earlier – or, maybe, unlike the others.

Nevertheless, in your experience, once a demon, always a demon.

“I do not have time for this.” Vergil hissed between his teeth, tilting his head upwards in hubris, leaving the Yamato sheathed. He turned his attention back to the wooden door – you were almost as good as dead; it would be extremely unwise to engage in battle with him.

But something Vergil still had to learn about humans was that the heart doesn’t always follow the wisest of decisions – sometimes, it acts by itself; and whether that is a good or a bad thing, it’s debatable upon the situation.

He heard as your steps lunged quickly towards him, giving Vergil only a few seconds to dash from your vicious attack, making you almost hit the door with your great silver sword. He kept looking at you with annoyance – not only because you attacked, but also because that fire in your eyes seemed to glisten even more than before.

“Leave.” You tried one more time – but Vergil was prouder than that.

He wouldn’t let himself be ordered around by a human.

“You chose your fate.” He growled between his teeth, attacking with the still sheathed Yamato.

It wasn’t his intention to kill you – with just a few blows from the sheath, you’d be on the floor, begging for your life or passed out. Vergil wouldn’t kill, but he would teach you a lesson: no human could think they could defeat him. He was much too powerful for such a weak, pitiful creature.

But you parried him – once, twice, three times. Your eyes still carried that fire, burning with rage and that something else. You didn’t fall, so he attacked again. And again. And you kept on resisting, refusing to give in.

You promised no demon would go beyond that point – only over your dead body. And you would keep that promise.

Vergil growled in disbelief, vexed by your resistance. He didn’t have time for this. Why weren’t you falling? Where were you getting your strength from? He was the son of Sparda. A meek, fragile, battle wounded human just like you should have fallen from the first blow of Yamato.

But your movements were as skillful as his. You held your sword with as much grace and strength as Vergil yielded his demonic heritage. With another blow, you parried masterfully in the right timing, both of you stepping back from each other to recover your stances.

You had your head slightly upwards; and you held his gaze. Vergil hardened his jaw, mimicking your demeanor – or was it you who were mimicking his? He couldn’t know; and you couldn’t either. The blood inside yours and his veins burned with the rage to be dealing with someone else as proud – and as arrogant – as the other.

It was the first time for Vergil, such a human thing to feel, but oh… Your eyes were crushing his pride. Your resistance mocked his power. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Charging towards you, Vergil didn’t hold back. You stood your ground, fighting him as best as you could – your body, though, begged for some rest. Even with the pain, you defended and counter-attacked with the might Vergil would expect of someone in a better shape… Of someone as powerful as him.

You, in the other hand, did not expect a demon so versed in martial arts. You thought he was going to use only his strength, like all demons did, but he had skill. As you parried another blow of his – the sheath of the Yamato threatening to break your stance, unbothered by your silver blade – your eyes met his and, there, you saw not only ice, but the sparkle of a fire that could only be human.

His eyes burned with the same fire yours did – the flame that kept telling him you wouldn’t give up: the human stubbornness.

Although you read it as arrogance.

Bothered by your eyes, Vergil pushed you back, with enough strength to make you stumble on your hurt feet and plant one of your hands on the ground so you wouldn’t fall. You let your head low for a while, taking a few deep breaths to control your spinning head. Vergil furrowed his brows as he noticed the smell of blood came from a wound in your flank – making the fact you were there, fighting him, even more absurd.

“Hmpf.” Even with that realization, he couldn’t recognize the strength in you. That would mean a mere human, battered and hurt even, could put up a decent fight with him. That you both were in the same level of power. Vergil would never accept that. “You’re not worthy as my opponent.”

You shot your head upwards, eyes stark in his blue silhouette as that demon turned his back at you in a nonchalant manner, going back to his business. He didn’t even want to kill you. That was mortifying. With those words, sharp as a sword, he cut through your heart and your pride: you weren’t even worthy of dying in a fight.

With the blood boiling in your veins, you used your silver sword to help you up. As he heard your movement, Vergil stopped; turning around slowly only to find you cleaning the blood running down your lips – those eyes setting his soul on fire.

“I am not done yet.” You spat the blood on the ground, almost hitting his boots. Vergil didn’t give you the joy of seeing how much his temper was affected by your attitude – even though his hardened jaw betrayed him. Lifting his head slightly to try to remain above his opponent, Vergil slowly walked towards you; and you mirrored his demeanor, even if you weren’t doing it in a conscious manner. “Demon.”

This time, Vergil didn’t allow you to attack first – he would set the pace of the fight; almost like leading a deathly waltz. You were his partner and you would follow his lead to your demise; as he always did with every opponent.

As soon as his domineering footwork tried to set the pace, yours refused to dance according to his lead. He tried his best to tame you – but that fire kept glistening in your eyes, and your footwork followed your own beat.

You tried to break his and make sure you were the one setting the pace, but that man in a blue coat had too much will to let himself be lead across the battlefield. His steps worked on his own – and he had the audacity to try to dominate you; the same way you were trying to do with him.

Your tiredness and his annoyance, though, made Vergil knock you down again – but still, you got up. And again. And one third time.

As you took your sword from the ground, barely able to stand up and wield the silver weapon with bruised hands, Vergil had a hard time hiding his shock – cloaked by the annoyance under his furrowed brows.

How were you doing that? You had no demonic blood like his to mend your broken body and burn in flames of survival. How could you get up, over and over and over again…?

“C’mon, demon.” You muttered one more time, raising your head as you could.

“Enough.” Vergil growled between his teeth, charging at you with a speed a human would never be able to counter.

You fell once more. With the sword away from your hands, you had to crawl on the floor to try to grab it again, as Vergil finally unsheathed the Yamato and walked towards you as a death omen. The blade glistened in the last cold rays of the day, as you ignored the blood dripping from your mouth and reached out for your silver sword. The demon approached, unrelenting, and if you couldn’t get back to your weapon, those would be your last breaths.

“Y/n! No! NO!”

The voice of a child made you and Vergil freeze where you were – eyes shooting up to the door he almost opened out of sheer human curiosity.

“Stay back!” You immediately screamed, pointing at three children looking at you both in horror. “Lock the door! Take the other children! Get out of here!”

“Y/n, no! We…!”

“GO! GET OUT! I’LL HOLD HIM BACK!” Your eyes were stinging with tears, knowing full well they wouldn’t have a chance against the demons – but you could at least give them a chance to run and save themselves.

Vergil’s fingers froze on the grip of the Yamato, his glaciers’ eyes stuck in that scene. His heart couldn’t let him move, couldn’t let him breathe. As you struggled more and screamed the last words that made the children finally close the doors and run – with a bunch of steps that could only be of a group of at least fifteen children – he watched as your bloodied fingers held the hilt of your sword once more, tears falling from your eyes as you struggled to get up.

You cannot kill your own mother.

Those words echoed through Vergil’s mind as he watched your struggle to protect the ones weaker than you. All that fight, all that will, all that power… It came from that. You weren’t just keeping people safe by forbidding demons to walk towards the Abyss – and forbidding anything to come out of it – you were there to help those kids find a safe path through the city to a safe haven. You came back to that hopeless building because of them.

Eva had died saving Dante from the hell their home became on that fateful day. She plunged in the fire for her child, she did it out of love and protection. Vergil had heard Eva tried to save him as well, throwing herself in the danger to keep him safe – but he couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t live with the knowledge that he had his mother killed, he didn’t want to believe that; and so Vergil decided to remain with the belief that she had abandoned him for Dante, even if his stupid human heart screamed otherwise.

As you tried to get up from the ground once more, Vergil saw his mother – crawling on the floor, blood dripping from her lips, tears staining her face while she muttered his name, doing her best to keep her children safe. He couldn’t kill her; Vergil couldn’t kill you.

He was brought back to reality as the floor rumbled violently. Snapping his head towards the courtyard, Vergil knew quite well what was happening: all the fighting had taken too long.

“We are done.” His words were muttered between his teeth as Vergil used the sheath of the Yamato the keep your hand pressed on the floor.

With a last glare from his silvery eyes, he left in a hurry before you let your head fall between a deep sigh.

The children were gone, they were safe. Your job was done.

There were many circles and places in Hell, accounted for throughout history in all sorts of arcane writings.

There was, however, one place unaccounted for – with little information, whispered around as a legend of a nightmare: the Abyss.

Some believed it was real, some said it was nothing but a tale to scare children at night. Vergil had read enough to believe in its existence – as well as to know it could take centuries for another gate to be opened once more. No one knew when they manifested or where, but one thing was certain: there was power to be harnessed on that place.

The kind of power was another mystery. The Codex Daemonica had no information on it or what kinds of demons it harbored – if it was inhabited by demons at all. Some believed Sparda had locked Mundus in shackles in that deepest part of Hell, while other said it was the home of something… More ancient.

Vergil approached the courtyard with his hand on the hilt of the Yamato, ready to unsheathe it. There was a fissure on the ground, in the middle of the dilapidated stone garden. There was no sound to be heard: no leaves, no wind, no walking. Only silence.

His steps were calm but firm, approaching with care but never leaving their regal pace behind. The closer he got, the warier his heart became. Something wasn’t right – but, at the same time his soul told him to leave, something inside him told him to walk towards the edge and peak inside.

Vergil had already decided he would be the first one to venture in the Abyss in search for power and, upon coming back, telling his findings in his arcane journal. If his father had trapped Mundus inside it, he saw no reason why he, the son of Sparda, wouldn’t be able to enter it and survive. In order to protect himself, to make sure nothing would happen to him again, Vergil needed that power – and he would go to the farthest depths of Hell and back to make sure no one would be able to threaten him anymore.

Stopping at the edge of the Abyss, Vergil looked down, trying to see something – he had already had many experiences with Hell and knew how some places looked like.

But all he found was darkness.

A darkness that came from the deep – that had no end and, still, seemed to go as far as the depths of his own soul. It was an all-consuming darkness, one that would pull Vergil willingly to its clutches – one he couldn’t understand.

He held the hilt of the Yamato with more strength, the sweat almost making it glide down. His heart pounded inside his chest and Vergil could hear the blood flowing through his head. The darkness consumed his eyes, searching for the deepest part of his soul… The part he smothered, hiding even from himself. The part covered in bruises, blood and self-hatred; the part Vergil couldn’t bear to see: his own mirror, naked and vulnerable, staring right back at him.

He had to get out of there.

Vergil’s heart rate increased and he had no air in his lungs. He didn’t want to look; he didn’t want to see. All those things, all those feelings, all those wounds… Himself. He didn’t want to see himself. He had broken all the mirrors, buried all the broken shards left from his heart, asphyxiated the light from his soul… But there, right in the back, covered in darkness, one mirror was left. One fragile heart made of glass. One ray of light cradled by his bony, bruised, pale white hands.

He had to go. He didn’t want to meet Vergil. He couldn’t look him into his eyes. Not those pitiful, helpless, bruised eyes begging for help… Begging for love. He had to go.

“Vergil…? Vergil…!”

Inside the Abyss, a familiar voice echoed, snatching Vergil away from that last mirror alone in the depths of himself. In that deep darkness, his eyes couldn’t see nothing more than the void, but a voice called him down in the depths.

“Are you there Vergil…? My son…!”

It was Eva.

Vergil hadn’t heard the voice of his mother since the day he discovered the extent of his demonic blood. Many times, he heard her voice inside his head – knowing it was all but a memory; the ghost of his mother coming back to try to comfort him in his desolation, at least a little bit.

But that voice in the Abyss… It wasn’t in his head. It wasn’t a memory. It was there… It was in there.

“Can you hear me…? Vergil…? I… I am scared.”

“I am coming to get you, mother.” Vergil’s voice was no higher than a murmur, but it was filled with resolve.

Ready to take another step and finally venture into the Abyss, another earthquake took the city. He lost his footing, tumbling backwards and falling far away from his mother’s voice as the courtyard came down and the Abyss slowly closed.

“Vergil…! Don’t leave me here alone…! Please…! My son…!”

“Mother… No!” Vergil did his best to run towards the very place his heart and soul screamed at him to stay away, ready to plunge into its depths not knowing what would happen next.

As Vergil finally reached the center of the courtyard, his hands and knees found only the stony floor as everything stood silently still.

The Abyss was closed.

Your empty eyes stared at the crumbling pieces of the city as its last pieces came down in destruction.

They promised. They should have waited for you. That was the deal: you went back for the children and your friends would wait for you all to come back – if you weren’t with the children, they should have waited fifteen minutes.

It had been ten minutes. You were on time. You were on time. There was no reason for leaving you behind.

They were the last way out of the city, the very last ride. The last hope of survival.

And they left you there, in the middle of those crumbling flames, filled with blood and death. You had dragged your feet until the meeting point, you wandered around, screaming their names in hopes they were just hiding to keep themselves safe. You searched; you did your best. You did your best.

No one was there. No one appeared. You were left behind. You were alone.

“Oh, child… Hush…” A snake-like voice dragged itself from the shadows, followed by cadenced steps. It was sweet, mesmerizing… Too comforting for all that desolation. “I know, I know… Your heart is broken. You don’t have to cry.”

“I am not crying, demon.” Your voice was hardened like stone, resonating between your teeth. Even if you wanted to cry, your pride wouldn’t let your tears fall for that kind of betrayal. Not for those people. They didn’t deserve your tears.

“Oh, but your heart, I can feel it…” The she-devil approached you, her hands resting seductively on your shoulders. You would have wiped them off, but you didn’t have the will to do so. “It is… Dead. Completely dead inside that little chest of yours. There’s no reason to lie to yourself… They forgot you, child. That is worse than being left behind, isn’t it? Your already hurt heart is in pieces, I can feel it.”

All your life, you learnt demons lied to get what they wanted. They listened closely to the winged words people let out of their mouths without thinking and later used those to their advantage. That demon, though… She wasn’t lying.

Your heart had already been hurt numerous times before, but that… That was the last blow to kill you. If you were left behind, people at least had thought of you – but they didn’t even remember you existed. You were forgotten, that’s how important you were. You meant nothing, you were worth nothing. Left to die because no one remembered you were dying.

Indeed, it was as if your heart had been torn out of your chest… And there was nothing. Not even tears.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Your chances of survival were close to none. You had been sentenced to death by those who couldn’t remember all they had to do was wait only five more minutes for you to come back.

“I know… There is no reason to fight anymore, no reason to remain in this pain…” That voice was now close to your ears, so sweet, so dangerous. “I can give you rest child…” It whispered in your ears, always so seducing. “Just give me your soul… Your blood. And I can make it all go away.”

“Hmpf.” You opened your eyes again, slowly turning to look into the blood red eyes of the voluptuous demon who stood behind you. Beautiful, but something in it made you wary. “You can have my blood, demon. But only over my dead body.”

“Hmmm. So be it.” The she-devil rolled her eyes, immediately nonchalant with your attitude. “You are as good as dead anyway. I could’ve made it painless, pitiful creature.”

Her words allowed a band of lurking demons nearby to approach and you finally noticed you weren’t being attacked before because she had claimed you as her prey. You were too weak even to fight her alone, but a whole bunch of demons… Your death was certain.

Taking a deep breath, you held your silver sword with pride. If it was for you to die that way, at least you would make it worthy of a hero. You wouldn’t fall easy and you would take as many demons as you could with you.

As he left the city, Vergil felt a commotion. With lost steps, still disoriented by the voice of his mother, he was naturally brought to the place – as if the demon inside himself wanted blood from the fight happening nearby.

He had never had an experience as the one with the Abyss. He was very aware of demons with psychic powers, able to instill confusion and hallucination in their victims… What he experienced with the Abyss was different.

Was his mother trapped in there? All this time, all alone, in the deepest, most dangerous part of Hell? Years and years in suffering, instead of spreading her beautiful wings as the angel she should’ve become upon giving her life to save Dante…?

Furrowing his eyebrows, Vergil let out an audible huff. He didn’t know what was worse: to believe his mother died trying to save him or that she had been trapped for endless years in the suffering and desolation of Hell.

It was definitely easier to believe she forgot him, saved only Dante and died, watching her beloved younger child from Heaven. Feeling anger was easier than mourning. It was easier than guilt.

Being forgotten was easier than being loved to death.

“Oh, child. Give up already!”

“I can keep going… Demon.”

Vergil immediately paid attention to what was happening in the distance – there he found that stupid little headstrong human who delayed him enough so he lost his chance to enter the Abyss to harness its power… And even to save his mother. He narrowed his eyes, ready to burn all his anger in you.

Until you were hit by a demon and fell on the floor, barely able to get up. They were all laughing, humiliating you. They kicked your sword away from your hands, making you crawl towards it, spitting blood, as they screamed and laughed, telling you to give up.

But, as you did with him, something made you get up and keep on fighting.

Vergil watched in awe as you finally pulled yourself again to your feet and looked at your foes, barely able to hold your silver sword.

It was pride.

The demons attacked you once more and, this time, your eyes couldn’t keep open. You put on your last defense, your last stand. You tried, but you were only human. There was nothing left inside of you and you could only do so much – you could keep your pride, but your physical strength had come to an end. You let go of your sword and allowed yourself the be engulfed by darkness.

Vergil’s hand stopped your bloody body from hitting the floor as the other yielded the Yamato.

“What a shameful thing…” He muttered, lifting his head above the eyes of the demons who stared at him. “Resorting to humiliating a half-dead weak human to feel powerful.” With those words, his hand gently left you on the floor, his feet walking in front of you to take a fighting stance. He couldn’t let you die – not like that. You deserved a better death. You deserved to die by his hands in a fair fight, not humiliated like that. “It’s time to teach you what real power looks like.”

The demons were decimated by the blade of the Yamato – in all that fight, Vergil didn’t touch your body a single time, not even accidentally. If those creatures wanted your blood, they would have to go through him, the son of Sparda. Your death was his, you were his nemesis. No one would touch you.

It took a human to kill a monster. Maybe, one day, his death would be yours as well.

A dark, cloaked figure of a tall man walked with resolute steps under the rain, cradling a frail body in his arms, keeping it from the water and wearing the dark veil of the deep night as protection.

Vergil carried you all the way to the next city – avoiding the looks of those concerned with and helping those who were able to flee and seek shelter nearby. He stayed in the shadows, keeping away from the big groups of volunteers who received injured and lost people – providing food, shelter, warmth and care.

You needed that. You were as good as dead in his arms. Vergil could hear as your breath was barely none, as your heart rate fought to keep you alive. Even in the brink of death, it was as if your body struggled for its own survival.

The hospital wasn’t big, although it was one of the biggest buildings in town. Seeming like an old mansion turned into a public building, Vergil crossed the entrance garden with his strong steps, not hearing much nearby. Most of the staff was probably working on receiving the refugees from your derelict city.

Going up the very few stone steps, he stopped by the door, finally protected from the rain. It was a great wooden door, heavy, adorned with iron, with a single candle keeping some kind of warmth and light in the darkness of that desolate night.

Vergil left you on the floor, ringing the bell on the wall. A woman peeked through the window, immediately initiating a fuss inside – it wouldn’t take long for them to pick you up and start your treatment.

His job was done. You would be alright.

As he was about to leave, Vergil noticed how your lips were already painted with a tinge of purple, your skin too cold for your own sake. Taking off his midnight blue scarf, he wrapped it around your body – it should be enough to keep you alive until the hospital staff took you in.

When the door opened, that strange man wasn’t there anymore. Gone like a shadow, the only one left was that poor person – beaten up, bloodied, bruised… Cozily wrapped around a deep blue scarf.

Respect was implied when one had found their greatest enemy.

To be continued...

#devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfic #devil may cry imagine #dmc imagine #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #vergil x you #long fic #dmc vergil x reader #well well here we are #my first attempt at a long fic :3 #these two are the proudest little things I've ever written in my life #I'M LOVING IT #also yes I thought of that dmc3 scene that Vergil goes 'WHY isn't it working?!' when writing his part xD #so much to unpack about these two <3 #hope to see you next week!

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bbsxsaa · 1 month

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ANIMAL FARM | TWD FANFIC

18+ (Synopsis)

Years after Rick's disappearance, his eldest daughter, Mia, decides to take matters into her own hands and begin searching for him again. Which leads her to being kidnapped and placed in a post-apocalypse trafficking ring based at an abandoned all-girls boarding school.

Faced with a plethora of complications, Mia will fight against time to escape - with a few friends along the way - or die trying to.

18+ (Prologue)

" Do you think I'm stupid Miss Grimes?"

Mia looked up from the steaming plate of food sat in front of her, a blank expression shared with the woman across the table. " You don't wanna know what I think of you."

Teressa simpered at the insolent remark. " What I am offering you is a place to live, a structurally safe community."

Disbelief washed over Mia's face, utterly shocked and repulsed by words spoken so confidently, so assuringly. " This isn't a community. This place is a prison, a fucking animal farm."

> > > ( LINK ) < < <

AN🤍 hey guys im rewriting my walking dead fanfic and im updating the first chapter Sunday, so far I only have the cast and summary posted on Wattpad. Feel free to check it out if interested (:

18+ ⚠️ (Disclaimer) ⚠️

THIS STORY CONTAINS MENTION OF TRAFFICKING, DEATH, SUICIDE, SUICIDAL ATTEMPTS, TRAUMA, GORE, TORTURE, MENTAL ABUSE, PHYSICAL ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, ASSUALT, STARVATION AND CAPTIVITY.

read at on discretion.

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animeomegas · 1 year

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24 Hours - Epilogue

[Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters]

Summary: You had spent the best part of a week married to each of your possible future suitors. You had enjoyed yourself immensely, but now was the hard part; you had to sort your life out and figure out which path you were going to pick... GN!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Warnings: Pregnancy stuff, swearing, vague descriptions of injuries, some n-sfw discussions.

(And here we are!! The epilogue is complete!!! This project has been a ride, but it’s all worth it to give to @omeganronpa!! I hope everyone else has enjoyed also though, and I hope you enjoy the ending, even if it’s not the one you hoped for :D Merry Christmas!!!!!! 💞💞💞)

Word count: 9.4k

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Epilogue

When you opened your eyes, you expected to see the purple-on-purple design of the fortune telling shop through clouds of incense, with the mysterious fortune teller hovering over you and smiling in that infuriating way that made you want to answer the question of whether to thank her or punch her with the answer ‘both’.

But no, you woke up in your shinobi, standard issue flat, in your boring, plain bedroom that never had time to be interesting or messy because you were never there. Your whole body ached from the mission you had almost forgotten you’d just done, but you pushed yourself into a sitting position regardless.

You were still wearing your mission clothes and you clearly hadn’t showered. It was almost too normal to find yourself in such a situation.

Had it all been a dream? No, you decided, definitely not. That was too much for a dream and what would anyone have had to gain from such a genjutsu. No, you really had lived an extra week in the future, and doubting the authenticity of it wouldn’t be helpful. But did that mean the fortune teller had carried you to your room? You felt strange that she’d seen you in such a vulnerable state and then gained access to your home, apparently bypassing all your traps, only to leave you lying on your bed. She had done you a great service, but that didn’t mean you trusted her enough to feel comfortable with that.

Ignoring the fact that you looked and probably smelt like shit, you jumped out of bed and ran through your house, barely remembering to grab the keys from your mission pack on the way and stormed down the stairs to the ground floor. You needed to see the fortune teller. She needed to explain herself to you.

You squinted against the bright light of the sun as you exited out onto the quiet street, but when you swivelled towards the fortune telling shop, you found it as empty as it had always been. The windows were unobstructed by purple curtains and the only thing you could see inside was small amounts of debris and an abandoned counter. Baffled, you walked to the door, noticing the fortune telling signs replaced by the old for sale price with an abysmally low price, and tried to push it open. Locked.

It was exactly as it had been when you went on your mission. Empty, abandoned, lifeless and containing zero fortune tellers or purple décor.

Completely bemused, you had no other choice but to return to your flat. It felt so cold after all the homes you’d spent the last six nights in. You had believed house and home to be synonyms previously, but the last week had shown you how wrong you were.

Regardless, you couldn’t believe the whole shop was just… gone!

You decided to get out of your clothes and hop in the shower; you’d be able to think and rid yourself of the dried blood and mud at the same time. You turned on the hot water, silently mourning the superior shower and bath at the Nara compound as you did and stepped under the water.

You stayed standing there for a few minutes, watching the brown water flow down the drain as you pretended that you hadn’t just had your entire world view turned on its head by a possibly-not-real fortune teller.

How were you going to pick? You ran through everyone you’d spent a day with as you squirted shampoo into your palm. No, it was more than that. It wasn’t just about picking a mate; it was about picking a whole life. You had so much you needed to do before you’d be in a position to take any mate and give them the version of you they deserved.

You needed to sort yourself out before you tried to court one of them.

Your number one priority was to figure out how you could be in the village more often. The schedule you were operating on now was unsustainable, with or without a future mate, but you also couldn’t be a good alpha is you were never present for your omega. Unfortunately, you’d also be a pretty bad mate if you were completely broke and unemployed because you decided to stop taking missions. You had to find a middle ground.

It would be a slow process, and although it hurt your heart to think about going back to your lonely life there was no other choice; you wouldn’t be able to stop missions right away. But you could start working on something else, something that would allow you to switch to taking missions part time eventually. Or should you go for an in-village job?

No, you quickly dismissed that idea. You would miss the thrill and the travel that came with taking missions, so your first plan was better. So, what could you do part time while taking missions for the other half of your time? What were you good at? What experience did you have outside of the usual shinobi skills? What would be a good fulltime venture in the event that you were too injured to continue missions or for after retirement? You had to consider it all.

You took a moment to just appreciate the hot spray of the water once more. It was soothing to think in the shower, all the best ideas were born there in your experience.

As you pondered the question, you started thinking about what other ninjas had done and you found yourself considering Ino’s dad’s flower shop. A shop could be perfect. You were great at business; you had been thinking about that only yesterday when future Naruto was telling you about the business fairs Konoha was hoping to start.

The more you turned it over in your mind, the more you were convinced that it was a great plan. You started to feel enthused just thinking about it. You’d have normal hours to work around whatever family you had, you could easily hire someone to run it while you were on missions because running a shop didn’t require specialist skills and barring the most extreme injuries, you’d be able to do it fulltime if you were forced into retirement early.

Yes, you liked this plan. It felt right. It had you feeling hopeful for the future, something you desperately needed. What kind of shop though? And how could you afford it?

The image of the now empty shop under your flat came to mind immediately, mainly because of how cheap it was. It was a rundown commercial building in a residential area, it wasn’t like people were clamouring to buy it, but if that kind of property was all you could afford, you’d need a business that could survive in such a location.

What kind of shop wouldn’t need much foot traffic to survive? Perhaps a shop that people didn’t visit every day and were therefore more willing to travel out of the centre of Konoha for. What kind of shop could you run where the remote location was a selling point?

Hmm, you would have to think about it more, but buying the shop downstairs wasn’t a bad idea if you could figure out a business that would work.

The water was getting cold, so you stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying yourself off and trying to avoid aggravating any injuries.

Getting this business set up would be step one. Dropping to part time missions would be step two. Getting closer to all your friends and helping them out with your future knowledge would be step three. Then and only then would you think about a mate.

…

Despite your energy for change, your life continued much in the same way for another year or so, and while it hurt at first, you’d fallen into the familiar pattern pretty easily. The goal you had made it easier to preserve though; knowing you didn’t have to do this forever was energising.

You put away as much money as you could from every mission, trying to save up for that shop, but before you had enough and before you had a chance to deepen and create all these friendships you wanted to make, war broke out.

The war put things on hold for obvious reasons, and in the darkest days, you wondered how the futures you had seen could ever be possible, because it felt like no one and nowhere would be spared from the brutal destruction.

You had fought as hard as you could, for those perfect futures and for your present loved ones. But eventually, it was over, and you had won. Sasuke came back and you focused on rebuilding your village and your home. You had a lot of time to think about your shop as you cleared rubble and organised relief efforts. Haku turned up to Konoha not long after it was up and running again, and you knew it was time to start chasing that future once more.

You opened your shop exactly two years after the war had ended. It wasn’t under your old flat, because the whole building had been destroyed, but you went for a similar place. You needed somewhere a little more private, a little more hidden, for your store.

You created a shop for heat and rut supplies, but you specifically aimed it towards shinobi by, among other things, allowing multiple exits to and from the building, operating on weird opening hours a few times a week for shinobi who were on missions during usual opening times, and including specialist seals for protection and scent control that shinobi could use to feel safer during their vulnerable times.

You stocked everything you could think of. Toys, lube, informational books and porn, nesting materials, high calorie ration bars, seals, nest décor, water bottles, low effort recipe books, first aid kits, cleaning supplies designed to be odourless so they don’t interfere with the heat/rut, and so much more.

It was a slow start, many people not aware of your shop for the first few months, but shinobi were awful gossips, so every one of them that came to your shop spread the word and soon business was booming and the money followed not long afterwards. You hired some brilliant staff to cover your days off and missions, and everything went as smoothly as you could have hoped.

The war was over, the shop had been set up, missions were dropped to part time, and you had money rolling in. It was time for the final step: choosing a mate.

You had become closer with all the omegas you’d spent those futures with, after the war.

You had asked Shikamaru to teach you to play shogi, and now you played together every week, allowing him a break to indulge in his hobbies with you. He beat you every time, but you were getting better, and he seemed to like watching you grow and change as a player. He had never once let you win though even when you had begged for a the shallow ego boost.

You, Naruto and Sasuke were closer than ever. You helped Sasuke fit back into the village and looked after him when the trauma got too much. You were there for Naruto to talk through his feelings about the war and to cry on each other’s shoulders as you thought about the people you had lost. You started to nudge them both together too, because whether you chose to join them or not, you wanted them to be happy.

When Haku had come to Konoha, you had helped him find a place to live, conveniently retracing your steps from memory to the place you had lived with him in the future. He had loved it and after you’d given a few suggestions on the interior from your memory, Haku had called on you for interior design advice every time he needed it. You were pretty sure his love of your designs based on what you saw of his choices in the future was definitely some kind of paradox, but that wasn’t going to stop you.

You had reached out to Shino in order to get to know him better and you’d had many ‘friend outings’ with him alone and also with his team. You listened to him and were delighted to find he already had that strange sense of humour that cracked you up more than anything else.

It was through Shino that you got closer to Kiba as well. And when Kiba had been sick on his birthday, all his friends on missions or unable to risk getting sick from him, you had been the one to spend the day with him, nursing him and trying to cheer him up. He had returned the favour when you had inevitably caught the sickness a few days later and you’d been lose ever since.

You had supported Neji leaving his clan as best as you could, offering him free reign over your shop for nesting supplies after hours, so he could shop privately for the supplies to build his first nest. You had even started stocking specific medication after hearing about how hard it had been for him to find pain meds that didn’t mess with the ones he already took to manage his heats after years of suppressant abuse. It had been difficult to get your hands on the medication, but for him, you did it.

You had also prioritised the other relationships in your life. Sakura, Sai, Ino, Chouji, Hinata, Lee, Tenten… all of them.

So, now, at your birthday party, the table was full of all these people. Your relationships with your friends were the most precious thing you had, and to see them all together here, to celebrate your birthday, it brought a tear to your eye.

It had taken serious planning to get a night where everyone would be there, but you had done it and it was more than worth it.

Neji caught your eye and nodded at you with a small smile; you had slipped him some free heat meds when you had arrived.

Kiba was grinning at you and poking your leg with his toe at varying intervals.

Shikamaru was watching you and when you caught his eye he mouthed ‘happy birthday’ before turning back to his drink.

Shino was sat right next to you and was telling you a story about his latest mission.

Haku was sat on your other side, between you and Naruto because you’d been worried about him feeling out of place, but he simply looked serenely around the table. When he got to you, he grabbed your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to each of your cheeks. A birthday greeting from Kiri, he explained.

Naruto was frantically searching through his bag for your gift that he was swearing must be there somewhere, while Sasuke stood at his shoulder, rolling his eyes.

These were the people that could be your future. And you knew who you were going to pick.

…

After agonising over the perfect courting gift, the right place for a first date and the right things to say, it was surprisingly easy to start a relationship with who you had picked. It was so easy that you kind of regretted over analysing every second of your memories of that cycle to find clues as to what you should say or do.

But in the end, you didn’t even give the courting gift or get through the planned words before your courting offer was eagerly accepted.

Things moved quickly. You were glad that you had worked on yourself first; you would have been unable to handle being a good partner back then, but now you could do everything a good mate should do and more.

Technically, you were on a courting date now, but you were far past the awkward restaurant dates and daytime walks around the village. No, this was relaxed, the eating takeaway in your living room and binging bad movies together kind of relaxed.

…

“What kind of decision was that?” you exclaimed, watching the protagonist choose to run upstairs rather than out the front door while she was being chased by a serial killer. “Like, I’m not here to victim blame, but…”

“That sounds exactly like victim blaming to me,” Kiba laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours.

“No, I said I wasn’t victim blaming!”

“Uh huh, like you said you weren’t going to eat all the mac and cheese,” he said, eyeing the empty pot that said mac and cheese had once been in.

“Shut up, I hate you,” you grumbled, snuggling into his shoulder and pulling the blankets around yourself. The protagonist was getting brutally murdered on screen, but you weren’t paying much attention. It wasn’t like these civilian horror films ever got anything right about actual murders anyway.

“Yeah, you hate me?” he leant down and whispered directly in your ear. Shivers ran down your spine. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it, dog boy,” you said without any heat.

“You sound like you’ve been spending too much time with Naruto,” Kiba smirked, pushing himself somehow closer to you. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” you said firmly, dropping the joking tone immediately. “My attention is yours; I’ll never look away, I promise.”

Kiba grinned, his lips now hovering close to yours.

“I love it when you say stuff like that,” he said, voice lined with a growl. He kissed you before you could formulate a reply.

With Kiba, you’d quickly learnt that every kiss was like the first time. Not because he kissed slowly or hesitantly or sweetly every time, but because the first time had been intense, hot and heavy and so was every kiss that followed.

You hummed into Kiba’s mouth, satisfied by the way he was using his tongue. You had become so comfortable with Kiba so quickly, but you’d yet to go all the way. Kiba seemed eager to take that step as soon as possible, but you wanted to court him for a little more first; you really didn’t want him to think that you were only there for sex.

You kissed until the credits of the film started to roll and only then did you realise how late it had become.

“Damn,” you said, pulling away, panting a little. “It’s already almost 1 AM, you don’t have a mission tomorrow, do you?”

“Nope,” Kiba replied, snatching one of the last slices of pizza from the table and shoving it in his mouth. “I’m still on leave from the last one.”

“Nice… Do you, uh, well,” you stumbled over your words. It was annoying considering how much you have practiced being casual about it in the mirror. “Do you want to stay the night?”

Kiba looked at you for a moment, a little bit of pizza sauce on his cheek, but before long he was grinning again.

“Hell yeah, I do!” he said, excitedly. “But I don’t have any pyjamas or stuff with me.”

“I have a spare toothbrush,” you said quickly, deciding not to mention that you’d bought an extra just for him. “And you can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.”

You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, but Kiba’s eyes seemed to darken at your words.

“Sounds good,” he said after a long pause. His voice was as heavy as his gaze.

…

You had offered to take the sofa and let Kiba take the bed, but the look of offence he had given you had had the offer dying on your lips.

You and Kiba were laying together in your bed now. You pointedly ignored the instinctual rush of having the omega you wanted to mate in your bed.

Kiba was draped over you, seemingly feeling no awkwardness at sharing a bed with you for the first time. He really wasn’t going to change much, at least personality wise, if the future version of him that you met had been accurate.

You sighed happily, rubbing circles on Kiba’s back. The mixing of his scent and your scent was making you pleased and sleepy. It was so nice to have Kiba here with you, and you couldn’t wait to see how your relationship was going to grow and change.

“Just so you know,” Kiba said sleepily. “Inuzuka don’t get married, so if you’re waiting until marriage to fuck me, you’re going to be waiting a long time.”

You snorted at the unexpected statement, having to stifle your laughs with your free hand.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I was just letting you know.”

“You don’t have to worry, anyway,” you said, still chuckling. “I’m not waiting for marriage, I just… want you to know that I like you for you, not for sex, y’know.”

“I already know that, dummy,” Kiba said, flicking you on the side. You could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to wait for that.”

“Seeing as we’re on the topic though,” you said, resuming your rubbing of his back. “Why don’t Inuzuka get married?”

“There’s no point of marriage if you already carry each other’s bite marks,” Kiba said bluntly. “Nothing is more important than that.”

You turned the thought over in your mind. You had kinda assumed that future Kiba and you had been married, but apparently not. It made sense though, now that you were thinking about it, and not being married wouldn’t change anything in your relationship.

“I get that,” you said. “It fits your clan, not going to lie.”

Kiba snorted but didn’t deny it.

You laid together in silence for a while. You were starting to think Kiba had fallen asleep, but he’d obviously been thinking about things, because he spoke up again, sounding a little hesitant for the first time since you’d known him.

“Do you, uh, want any pups?” Kiba asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

You just started to laugh as soon as you registered the words. You couldn’t help it.

“Wha- hey! Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, I just-“ you couldn’t get the words out between laughs, but Kiba’s frowny face eventually calmed you down. “I would love to have pups in the future. How many do you want?”

“A few, I guess-“

You burst out laughing again, unable to keep it in with the thoughts of Kiba only having a few pups. This time Kiba hit you with a pillow.

“Why are you laughing?!”

You responded by picking up your own pillow and hitting him with it, devolving your quiet cuddling into a wild pillow fight.

You had a sneaking suspicion that despite you taking these early days slowly, it wouldn’t be long until Minoru popped into existence. And maybe it was a weird thing to think, but you were really excited to see him again.

…

It turned out that Minoru did come pretty soon, only two years after that first time you’d slept in a bed together with Kiba.

And just over a year later, Ichika joined the family, and you were now a family of four.

Kiba had proclaimed multiple times how you were on the same wavelength with names because he always loved your first suggestion. You kept where the inspiration came from to yourself as it was technically cheating.

Now, Minoru was three years old, Ichika was two and it had been four years since Kiba had gone on a mission. He still worked around the compound when he had the chance but being pregnant was too much of a risk on the field and he was still breastfeeding so he couldn’t be gone for more than a day or two.

He wasn’t technically retired, simply on leave, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was pregnant again (with twins), going by the timeline you’d seen from the future, so he wouldn’t be returning to being an active shinobi anytime soon.

(You remembered when Kiba had been worried about him and Akamaru getting bored without missions, but the pups had kept both of them more than busy.)

You were still taking missions, but you had stopped taking long ones altogether and pulled back the number of short missions as much as you could. You spent almost all of your day in the shop instead, so you could be home for dinner and the bedtime routine almost every night. Kiba and your pups deserved a present mate and appa.

Unfortunately, even though you were only taking a short mission every fortnight, that didn’t mean being a shinobi wasn’t dangerous.

The last thing you remembered was accidentally triggering a trap and having your foot mangled and a paralytic fired into your neck.

The paralytic had worn off on its own, but your foot had required pretty intensive surgery in the hospital back in Konoha. You honestly couldn’t remember much about the journey back or initial treatment, but you had eventually been released home with strict instructions not to put any weight on your foot unless absolutely necessary.

You felt guilty for burdening Kiba with your care on top of your two toddlers, but he had been rather aggressive when you tried to apologise.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” he had said. “I don’t want to hear any apologising bullshit.”

At least you were capable of staying alert all day, even if you were stuck in bed. You could work on the paperwork for your shop which stopped you from feeling entirely useless.

You sighed, leaning back against the headboard of your bed. You still had another week before your final surgery and then another week of recovery before you could try to walk again. You amused yourself briefly by imagining putting a bounty on the head of whoever set that trap, but your daydreams were interrupted by the door opening.

In toddled Minoru, tightly clutching at a glass of water, using his entire focus to keep from spilling it. Kiba, holding a sniffling Ichika, came in behind him.

“Hey everyone, what’s up?” you said, smiling as Minoru successfully placed the glass of water on your nightstand without dropping it. “Good job with the glass, baby, thank you.”

Minoru smiled, but it was sad and lacklustre. He looked more worried than anything else.

“We’ve come to check on you and bring you some water,” Kiba said. He sounded stressed but was obviously trying to keep it together. You weren’t surprised; you had heard Ichika crying all morning.

“How are you feeling, appy?” Minoru asked, nervously fisting at his shirt.

“My foot’s a bit poorly still, darling, but I’m okay,” you smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “Do you want a cuddle? You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

He nodded, and with your help and a frankly over the top amount of caution to avoid your foot, Minoru settled down and curled up on the left side of your chest. For being only three, Minoru was already such a worrywart. You were thankful that your arms were uninjured so you could snuggle him and pepper his head in kisses with no constraints.

Minoru purred under your attention.

Ichika was less content though. Despite Kiba rocking her and attending to her needs as best as he could, she was still crying. You could see him talking to her in low tones, although you couldn’t hear what he was saying.

You suddenly remembered the day you’d spent in the future, something that was still weird to recall now that you had got on with your life. You remembered Ichika’s issues with her Inuzuka senses being too strong and overwhelming her. It would make sense that those issues had started young.

“Babe, pass her to me,” you said softly, holding the arm you weren’t using to support Minoru up. “I have an idea to stop the crying.”

Kiba didn’t look like he had much hope, but he didn’t argue, simply passing her into your free arm with no complaints. Ichika struggled and increased her cries as she realised she was being put down, but calmed a little when she realised you were now holding her.

You manoeuvred her head so that one ear was pressed against your chest, and you covered the other one with your hand.

“Try covering her eyes with your hand,” you said to Kiba, seeing as your other hand was holding Minoru. Kiba looked sceptical, but he’d obviously been worn down with the crying because he followed your instruction with no complaint, shuffling onto the bed on your right and using a hand to cover Ichika’s eyes.

The sniffling and quiet cries continued for a while, but Minoru seemed content to snuggle, and you’d mouthed ‘wait’ at Kiba enough that he did. Eventually, the sniffles died down and Ichika’s breathing evened out. When you and Kiba withdrew your hands, she was asleep.

“How did you do that?” Kiba whispered, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to thank you or accuse you of witchcraft. “I’ve been trying to get her to take her nap for three hours.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” you explained in an equally soft voice. “And I think she’s been having trouble with her senses getting too much for her. That’s why when we muffled her hearing and sight, she was able to relax enough to fall asleep.”

Kiba’s mouth pressed into a firm line and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He looked very worried.

“That’s not good,” he said, stroking her hair gently. “We’ll need to go to a medic and see if it can be fixed because if not, she-“

“Hey, stop spiralling,” you chastised softly. “She’ll be fine. Even if she needs more support or she decides against being a ninja, she’s still healthy and we can manage the symptoms and make her happy. That’s what matters.”

“Is Ich’ka poorly too?” Minoru asked suddenly. You and Kiba both looked to him, having forgotten that he was still awake. His bottom lip was trembling, and the poor thing looked incredibly upset at the idea that both his sister and appa were unwell.

“No, baby, Ichika is fine,” Kiba rushed to reassure him verbally while you pressed a kiss onto his little forehead. “We just think that sometimes things get too loud for her, so we’re working out how to fix it for her.”

Minoru blinked at you a few times but seemed to believe you because he nodded and laid his head back down on your chest, yawning.

“Okay, ommy,” he muttered before sticking his thumb in his mouth.

“They both ended up missing nap time because Ichika was crying,” Kiba explained, gently climbing off the bed and leaving your two pups snuggled up on you.

The pain in your foot was overshadowed by the burning affection that threatened to overwhelm you as your two babies snuggled into your chest.

“I’m going to change your bandages while they’re sleeping,” Kiba said, slipping into the bathroom and coming out a few moments later with everything needed to tend to your foot. It was common for him to change them while the pups napped because neither of you wanted them to see any of the gore in case it scared them. Especially Minoru, who had been inconsolable when you’d come back injured from your mission.

“Ouch,” you grumbled as he wiped at your foot with cleaning alcohol.

“Oh dear, poor baby, are the wipes too much for you?” Kiba teased, picking up the bandages and beginning to wrap them around your foot. “Do you want me to kiss it better after it’s all bandaged?”

“Yes,” you said earnestly, ignoring the teasing aspect of his question.

Kiba snorted, but obliged, pecking the bandaged foot while trying not to laugh. You hoped you could make him laugh more often; he had been so serious and stressed recently, torn between your injury, Ichika’s constant crying and Minoru’s refusal to leave the house in case you got worse while he left. And all of that was on top of the normal caring duties for two toddlers.

You felt guilty for getting injured and making his life so hard, but you knew he wouldn’t appreciate the insinuation that you were a burden on him. You were pack and as far as Kiba was concerned, pack looked after each other no matter what.

“Are you okay with them in here with you? I need to go and try and clean the house, it’s in an absolute state,” Kiba asked, packing away the medical supplies.

You didn’t want him to work and work and work until he dropped.

“You should lay down with us, babe,” you said, still keeping your voice low so that you didn’t disturb Minoru and Ichika. “You look like you need it, no offence.”

“None taken,” he snorted. “But I still need to clean and Ichika has been refusing to be put down, so now’s the only time I can do it.”

“Let’s just, hire some poor genin team to clean the house or something,” you suggested. “We have enough savings and I’d class this as an emergency.”

Kiba hesitated, but in the end, you managed to coax him into climbing in on Ichika’s other side and having a nap with the rest of the family.

Once you were better, you couldn’t say that you weren’t glad, but you still treasured the little nice moments that you had managed to find in between the hardships.

…

A month after your foot had mostly recovered, it turned out that you had been right about Kiba being pregnant, and before you knew it, your family was now six people as Akemi and Kaito made their appearance.

With four under four, you and Kiba tried your hardest to put the hundreds of condoms you’d received as gag gifts to use. Of course, you knew from your trip to the future that it wouldn’t last forever, but you made it five whole years without Kiba being pregnant even once. When people teased you for having the largest family of your generation, you just laughed, knowing that it was going to get bigger one day.

You had been right in your assumption that picking Kiba would mean that you were never lonely again, and although you sometimes longed for moments where no sticky hands were trying to climb you, you thrived in the large family atmosphere.

You also carved out time to spend with your friends, refusing to let the relationships you had forged die from something as mundane as not having time to hang out.

The garden you had wistfully imagined hosting BBQs in while you were in the future was now frequently filled with those once imaginary BBQs. Naruto and Sasuke always came, Naruto excited to play with your pups and pine over the pups he and Sasuke were eventually planning on adopting together. Sai and Sakura came too, Sai always bringing some bizarre side dish with him. Hinata and her two children seemed a little intimidated by most of your feral goblins, but Ichika got on with them like a house on fire and you were happy to provide her with some calmer company. Shino had adopted a distant relative from his clan and was raising him as a single oma, although when they came along, little Kazue (and oh goodness did it pull on old heartstrings when you saw him for the first time) normally tucked himself up on Shino’s lap and refused to play with the other children.

It was chaos when you all got together, but the kind of chaos that lit a fire in your very soul. It made all those earlier lonely days seem like hallucinations.

After those five years, Kiba was pregnant again, with the baby that you’d almost seen born during your future excursion.

You were incredibly thankful when the birth passed without any fainting incidents. You had even managed to intercept Minoru’s anxiety by explaining to him about clan pregnancy before his lessons on childbirth at the academy and so instead of the tears and worries over Kiba dying, he’d instead proudly explained to all his classmates that his clan and oma were simply ‘built different’.

The actual birth had also gone much smoother. You were his actual mate this time, able to easily provide the comfort and intimacy that Kiba needed while also having the know-how from the previous three births to support him and the pup properly. It wasn’t your first rodeo this time. It was rodeo number four, which you considered an ‘out of the danger zone’ number of rodeos.

And with that, you had Hibiki, your fifth child and third son.

When you had been in the future, you had assumed that the mystery fifth child would be the last one, but you knew better once you’d actually been mated with Kiba for years.

Yua, your sixth child and third daughter was born a few years later.

And when, a few years after that, Kiba got pregnant again, you immediately booked an appointment to get sterilised so that you could continue to indulge his breeding kink without making any more mouths to feed. You were doubly glad about that decision when the final pregnancy was revealed to be twins.

…

“You’re doing so well, babe, so well,” you were naked and pressed up against an equally naked Kiba, holding him from behind as he worked through a contraction.

“It feels strange that this is the last time I’m going to do this,” Kiba said between gritted teeth. “I kind of don’t want this labour to end, is that weird?”

“Yes,” you said bluntly, vaguely concerned but not surprised.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he acquiesced, relaxing slightly now that the contraction had passed. “You sure you don’t want one more?”

“You know you’re not allowed to make decisions when you’re in labour, horny or feral.”

“I guess that’s also fair,” he sighed, stretching out his legs.

You rubbed on his stomach to try and ease the discomfort as best as you could. This was your sixth rodeo now though and it was almost funny to recall the panic from your trip to the future and at Minoru’s birth. You could probably deliver an Inuzuka baby in your sleep at this point.

“Drink some water,” you prompted, holding a water bottle to Kiba’ lips. He drank obediently, emptying the bottle in one go.

“I reckon these twins will be out pretty soon now,” Kiba said, reaching over to grab a ration bar and tearing it open with his teeth.

“I’m not surprised, it’s probably like a slip n’ slide in there by now.”

Kiba laughed at your joke and almost choked on his ration bar in the process.

“You’re the one who’s been in there the most, so you would know.”

“Pfft- Shut up,” you smacked him gently on the shoulder.

“You should know by now that that won’t happen,” he smirked, pressing his lips against yours.

A muffled smashing sound from the main part of the house had you both startling apart.

“Want to take guesses on which chaos gremlin was the cause of that?” Kiba said mildly, unperturbed by the sounds of destruction after so many years.

“Hmm, I bet it was either Akemi and one of her experiments gone wrong, or it was Hibiki attempting to eat his dinner from a dog bowl on top of the counter again.”

“Not a bad bet, but personally I think that was the sound of Minoru snapping and frisbeeing something fragile at the wall.”

“May the best person win,” you said, shaking his hand. He played along with a grin, but he soon tightened his grip and bent over in pain.

“Fuck, maybe I don’t want this to last forever,” he grunted, still squeezing your hand. “It hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, holding him tightly. “I wish I could take some of the pain for you.”

“I think it’s time,” he panted, ignoring your statement, not that you blamed him.

“Alright, I’ve got you, let’s get you sorted.”

That evening, twins Kaede and Natsu, a girl and boy respectively, finished off your family.

…

As a family of eight, the days felt long but the years flew by.

It was with a mix of relief and sadness that you faced your youngest, Natsu, moving out of your house. You had done it. You had successfully raised eight pups into functioning adults and sent them out into the real world.

It wasn’t like all of them didn’t pop over for dinner three times a week and crash here after missions, but still, it felt strange that you wouldn’t be caring full time for your army of pups anymore.

Some of them were already mated and you already had two grandpups. Most lived in the compound, some were ninja, some were not. But they were all exceptional people that were exceptionally loved.

You and Kiba were holding each other on the couch as you mourned the final pup leaving the nest. Kiba had hugged Natsu so fiercely that you were worried it would hurt him.

“I can’t believe they’re all gone,” Kiba said, sounding unsure about how to feel.

“They’ll be around, I wouldn’t be surprised if Natsu was back here tomorrow asking how he’s supposed to cook pasta, when what he really wants is for you to cook it for him.”

Kiba laughed, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. You pulled him closer and let him grieve this stage of his life.

You had never regretted your choice to choose this family for your future, not even once.

You thought about all of your precious pups, the highs and the lows of raising them, of seeing them grow. Each of them were so different but so precious. And funny, all of them had immense comedic value and you had so many funny memories from raising them.

Like Minoru, your oldest and most responsible. He’d decided to become a medic, something you could easily tell from the near permanent expression of exasperation on his face. You remembered the day his old genin teammate had come back from a mission injured but had refused to go to the hospital. Minoru had dragged her back to your house.

…

“If you won’t go to the hospital, then you’re going to let me heal you, no arguments!”

That was the first thing you heard after the front door went and it was enough to pull you from the washing up.

“Minoru, please, I don’t want to intrude-“

“You’ve already bled all over the carpet, so you can get over issues of ‘intrusion’,” it was Minoru’s voice and the voice of who you believed to be one of his genin teammates.

He came into view moments later, dragging said old genin teammate. He muttered a ‘hi, appa’ but then promptly ignored you in favour of dumping his bleeding friend on the sofa.

“Um, you should probably go to the hospital,” you said tentatively, walking over to the two teens. “Our house is like, covered in mud and dog hair at the moment, that can’t be sanitary.”

“You’re right! She should be in the hospital!” Minoru shouted. “But she’s such a- such a-“

He struggled to find the words to match his fury for a moment.

“Such a… rat bastard! And she won’t go to the hospital even though she’s bleeding out!”

You snorted but quickly disguised it with a cough. You should probably discourage that kind of language but it was hilarious, so you decided to let it slide.

“Look, give healing them your best shot, but if anything gets worse or she passes out, let me know and we can take her to the hospital, okay?” you said, putting your reassuring appa voice on.

“Fine,” Minoru grumbled, kneeling at the side of the couch, hands hovering over her stomach. “I don’t care if this hurts, by the way.”

You didn’t manage to disguise your laughter quite as well this time.

…

Ichika came to mind next. She had worried you and Kiba a lot when she was younger, with her senses heightened so far above the normal Inuzuka level to the point of pain. But in the end, she had turned out perfectly able to take over the clan leadership when it became clear that Hana wasn’t going to have any of her own pups and Kiba and Minoru were uninterested in such a role.

What made her so perfect was her ability to make herself, and by extension the clan, seem perfectly normal and well-functioning. She was the only non-gremlin child you had, and the clan was using that to their advantage in negotiations and political bullshit.

Sometimes she fooled people too well though. You distinctly remembered the first time she had brought her boyfriend to a family dinner to introduce him to you, Kiba and the rest of your family. Ichika had tricked him with her normalness and the poor man had no idea what he was getting into.

…

Ichika had called a family meeting about an hour before her new boyfriend was supposed to show up, and so all of you were crowded in the living room because no one wanted to piss off an already stressed Ichika. Even the terror twins were managing to sit somewhat still.

“Listen up!” she shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table. “I really like this man, so I will have no one scaring him off, is that clear?”

A couple of your pups chortled, but Ichika’s glare cut them off.

“I mean it,” she said. “That means no asking if they have any ‘interesting’ diseases (she pointed at Minoru), no setting a trap on his chair or in any other part of the house (she pointed at the terror twins), no eating from receptacles designed for dogs (Hibiki was pointed at next), no trying to bite him (Yua) and well…”

Kaede and Natsu blinked up at her innocently, only two years old, each sitting on one of yours and Kiba’s laps.

“I guess you two get a pass,” she said reluctantly. “For now.”

“Pass!” Natsu giggled happily.

“What about us?” you asked, gesturing to yourself and Kiba, trying to hide your grin. “Do we have rules too?”

She squinted her eyes at you as she considered it.

“You are allowed to threaten him once each. Once only,” she stressed. “And they have to be normal threats that normal parents make, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kiba snorted, bouncing a happy Natsu. “So, when’s Kairo getting here then?”

Ichika’s eye twitched at the deliberate incorrect name.

This evening was going to be fun.

…

Your terror twins, Akemi and Kaito, came to mind next. And that was Terror Twins (affectionate) of course. They had both taken to shinobi life a little too well, specialising in tracking as any good Inuzuka did, but also traps and demolition, to the surprise of no one. And of course, they loved to practice those skills in your house.

Their Inuzuka dog companions were just as bad as they were, but their killer puppy dog eyes always got them out of trouble.

They both had genin teams at the moment. Rival genin teams. Although the rivalry seemed to just be between your twins, because the genin seemed to become close through commiserating over their ridiculous jonin instructors.

You still remembered the first chunin exams that they had been entered in. As green genin, none were promoted, but seeing as it was hosted by Konoha, Akemi and Kaito had begged the whole family to attend to watch their genin beat the other’s genin.

…

“Kick his ass, Sakurako!” Akemi shouted from the stands. “Yank that pretty boy hair!”

“You got this, Akihito!” Kaito shouted, not wanting to be outdone. “Don’t be afraid to bite her if you have to!”

You put your head in your hands, hoping that no one figured out that you were technically responsible for both the crazy jonin. You regretted saying yes to attending.

…

Next you thought about Hibiki, the boy you almost saw born twice, which was a cool fact that you’d never be able to tell him.

Hibiki loved dogs more than people. Yes, that wasn’t uncommon for Inuzuka, but Hibiki took it to the extreme. He had demanded to eat from dog bowls rather than plates for five years, and maybe other parents would have put their foot down and said no, you and Kiba had just decided to indulge the little weirdo.

Hibiki liked walking dogs, playing with dogs, learning about dogs, barking at people and a whole myriad of other similar things. He spent every day shadowing his aunt Hana in the vet clinic and resisted going to the academy because there weren’t dogs there. It was not surprising at all when Hibiki started to work at the clinic full time.

You still remembered the first time Hibiki had asked Akamaru to join him in the bath, as all of his older siblings had asked before him. It was the first time that Kiba’s normal hose threat hadn’t worked.

…

“I want Akamaru to come!” Hibiki sulked, stomping his feet.

“Akamaru gets hosed down in the garden, so unless you want to do that, it’s time to get in the bath without Akamaru,” Kiba said back, the threat of the hose well practiced.

“Okay!” Hibiki said, face lighting up. “I want to get hosed in the garden with Akamaru!”

You could almost see the wind getting taken out of Kiba’s sails.

“I- what? You want to get hosed down with cold water in the garden?” Kiba questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Yes! Thank you oma! You’re the best!” Hibiki cheered, running from the bathroom to the back door.

You and Kiba made significant eye contact, but in the end you both just shrugged.

“Alright then.”

…

Yua was next. She and her dog were inseparable and impossible to trick. She had gone down the traditional Inuzuka route of tracking, and Yua’s wicked smarts were perfect for it. She started leading tracking teams when she was only 15 years old, and you were more and more proud of her every day.

She did have a mean streak though. She wasn’t a bully or anything, you wouldn’t have allowed that, but she became easily frustrated with those around her. Like the time you and Kiba had been called into the academy because Yua had been in an altercation with some of her classmates.

…

“You have to apologise, Yua,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady and firm.

“But why should I have to apologise if what I said is true!?” she exclaimed, obviously frustrated. “I didn’t lie!”

“It doesn’t matter if you think something is true or not,” you explained, taking a breath to keep your patience. “Telling someone that they could ‘have an intelligent thought bite them on the nose and still not know what it was’ is very rude and mean.”

Yua huffed, obviously not understanding the situation. You were very aware of the academy teacher watching you fail to get through to your daughter.

“Fine,” you said, giving up on the explanation. “No training at home until you apologise.”

“What? Appa! No!”

…

Finally, you had Kaede and Natsu, the babies of the family. That title was something that Kaede resented wholeheartedly and something that Natsu embraced with enthusiasm.

Kaede’s favourite phrase growing up was “I can do it by myself, appa!”, while Natsu had favoured the “Can you help me appy, please?”.

Kaede had always been determined, someone who knew themselves entirely. You remembered when they had told you to switch their pronouns to they/them at age 12, they had done it with the confidence of someone so much older.

They had become a paperwork ninja, deciding it was their destined role and that no on would stop them and no one would talk down about the job. They were a force to be reckoned with, behind that desk. Just because they were the first Inuzuka paper nin didn’t mean they were well adjusted or normal. In fact, her companion dog had been trained to bite ninjas who gave late reports or who didn’t take enough time to make their writing legible.

While Kaede had been determined and self-reflective, Natsu only knew one thing: he loved cuddles. For years, he had been happy doing anything as long as it included getting cuddles or praise from one of his family members. Even his Inuzuka dog was the snuggliest dog you had in the family. He did have a penchant for teasing people though, but in a charming, if a little feral, way.

He had decided that the ninja life wasn’t for him, to the surprise of no one, and instead he helped out in your shop full time. Your customers loved him and his pup, who stayed curled up by the counter, was just as big of a hit.

You were still sometimes in awe of how different they were.

…

A breaded chicken fillet was on the menu for most of the pups tonight. You sat around your massive dining room table in the house you had to buy a few years back when it became clear that the number of pups was vastly outnumbering the number of bedrooms, passing round the plates.

You automatically turned to Kaede and picked up her knife and fork in order to cut the fillet up for her.

“No, appa! I can do it myself!” she said, pulling her plate away from you. “I’m not little anymore!”

“Alright, alright,” you said holding up your hands, having passed her cutlery back. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“I won’t,” she said fiercely, immediately attempting to cut the fillet up herself. She was butchering it a little bit, but it would all taste the same, so you let her get on with it.

“Appy?”

You turned to see Natsu with his full-on puppy dog eyes staring at you. He was holding up his knife and fork for you.

“Can you cut my chicken for me, please?”

You softened as you looked at him. Apart from Ichika, he was the only one of your pups to have fully grasped the concept of manners.

“Of course, I can, darling,” you smiled, walking around the table to cut up his fillet into little chunks. “Do you want ketchup as well?”

He nodded, so you took the ketchup bottle and squirted a little smiley face with the sauce.

“See? It’s a smiley face because it’s happy to see you!”

Natsu grinned, looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you appy, I love him!”

“You’re welcome, baby. Would you like some, Kaede?”

She nodded too but held out her hand to take the bottle from you, clearly wanting to pour the ketchup herself.

It was quite amusing that the two were twins; they couldn’t be more different.

…

They were all your pups and you loved them so much that you couldn’t articulate it. You would cherish them forever and from your perspective now, it was strange that you had ever considered choosing a different life with someone else.

You had thanked the fortune teller in your mind many, many times since that fateful week, but you also had to give yourself some credit for putting in the work to make this life happen. You built your shop up from the ground, you helped your friends, you wooed Kiba into being your mate, you built your family with him, you raised all these amazing human beings and somehow kept your sanity amongst the chaos.

You had earnt this life, fully and completely.

“We did good,” was the only thing you could say to Kiba as you held each other on the couch. “We did so good.”

“We did,” he agreed. “And we have so much more good to do.”

And you did, but you felt like you had it under control now. You knew what you were doing, no longer were you that hesitant teenager with desires for a life so much more than they had.

No, you could handle whatever was thrown at you now.

So, imagine your surprise when Natsu burst into your shop only a week later to tell you that he’d met a mysterious fortune teller in the night and spent a week in the future, mated to seven different friends.

The end.

#24 hours series #omegaverse #a/b/o #n-sfw #alpha!reader #naruto #x reader #reader insert #omega!character

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