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penvisions · 13 days ago

Text

gone to the dogs {chapter 7}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Tensions run high as you can't seem to recover from your bout of sickness even though Tess is back on her feet and helping the newest member of your pack sort out some things. Neither of you had told Joel yet, bidding your time until some things are taken care of but you have a feeling it's more than just that if Tess's determined silence is anything to go by...

Word Count:

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, mean joel miller, degrading language, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, references to injuries, blood, sexual content, rough sex, p in v, smut, unprotected p in v (it's the end of the world, y'all), sexual propositions, oral (f receiving), talk of pregnancy, angst, reference to off screen assault, medical jargon, mentions of nausea, mentions of past trauma, mentions of canon death, mentions of past childloss, i think that's it for this one!

Fic notes: we are officially 10 years into the apocalypse! joel is 46 at this point and cane is early 30's, but please imagine her to look anyway you want! these are just rough estimates and descriptions that are not set in stone as per the x reader tradition. simply a way for me to get the story fleshed out a bit c:

A/N: this fic really just got so big and it can't possibly be contained to the original ten chapters when i first started it. these two have really taken the reigns and i am all for letting them develop and flourish as they wish ♡♡

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Joel scrubs a hard hand over his face, brushing away as much of the ash and dirt as he can as he lowers the bandana wrapped around his head as a mask. It’s not much, but it eases his mind enough for him to keep using it.

He’s been pulling more shifts, as many as they could give him. You and Tess both being sick was something that worried him, stressed him out. The dangers of the end of the world were rampant, too many to count and keep track of. A weakened immune system brought on by fever and sickness was something from Before that he had completely lost the notion of.

Seeing you beaten up and bruised from fights or shows of power, from hard days working whatever shitty physical labor the zone needed done or from crawling your way through the rubble of the fallen city around them in search of things to trade and sell- it was different. Different than seeing you wrapped up in all the thin blankets in the shared apartment, that he could get his hands on only to still see the shivers that rack your body and chitter your teeth together. It was different than seeing you barely manage to keep water down to take the pills he paid far too much for only for you to gag on the weight of it settling in your empty stomach.

The scraps of chicken and bone he managed to trade for had cost so many ration cards. But the medicine, the stock he was able to pull from the bone- all of it was worth it for you and Tess to start to get better.

Well, Tess was better. You were…you were…are still sick. No longer plagued by fevers, cold spells, and heat flashes. But your stomach was unsettled, and your appetite was borderline gone, the weight you dropped a little concerning and the color drained from your skin.

He’s been playing caretaker to whatever extent you’ll allow him when he’s in the privacy of your shared apartment. Even if it’s as simple as refilling your mug with hot water for a second cup of tea, of collecting the bowl you had used to try and eat something with before he got home. He’s willing to do it, to do more. But you won’t let him. Determined to hold onto your independence in a way that both makes him proud and feel a little useless.

So he works. To provide. To make it easier. To give you space. Doing the long standing trades, showing his face more on that side of things while you’re unable to do so. Tess now, too, is back at it and it seems like you’ve given her clear orders on who to trade with and who not to as the weather grows colder.

But right now all he can focus on is the sprawled out form of you on the bed. Sheets and blankets tossed and kicked to the end of the bed and nearly crumpled on the floor as you pant heavy breaths while trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep.

The baser instincts in him rise at the smell of sweat and the sounds your making, the slight groan of the mattress beneath your wiggling form. it’s not that he wants it for himself, well, not just that he wants it for himself. But your body is stressed, it’s fighting, mind and nervous system out of whack. He’s on you the second he steps over the threshold into the room, determined to give you some sort of relief. To give you something else other than seemingly endless days of sickness and being unwilling to leave the building.

“Joel, ‘m still sick.” You mumble halfheartedly, that tug in your navel letting you know that despite everything, your body still sings for him- because of him. And it’s intoxicating, the immediate reaction as you feel plush lips against your skin, feel the weight of his body so close.

“Don’t matter, want you.”

His kisses are like fire, trailing down from your chin where he nips hard to your neck and chest. Tank top pulled up as carefully as he could manage, ridding you of the thin fabric. His lips close around hardened peaks to pull out desperate sounds from you, so sensitive to the soothing swipe of his tongue after biting teeth. His nose skims across your skin, the sharpness of it driving you wild as his hands make quick work of removing the pants you had fallen asleep in.

His teeth nip gently at the swollen lips of your cunt through the fabric of your underwear before he breaths in deep. “Gonna get you outta your head for a bit.”

And like a switch, your mind and body only focus on him.

The drag of his nose over the same place, the tug of his fingers pulling the now damp fabric down. The hot, thick line of his cock against your legs as he pulls them up to bend into your chest. His tongue swipes flat over your folds, delving between them after, shockwaves of pleasure so intense after experiencing nothing but aches and pains for the last couple of weeks. It pulls a moan deep from your chest, the responsive chuckle earning him another as you feel the vibrations of it skitter across your skin.

He's pulling pleasure from you like he was made for it, his knowledge of your body all he committed to memory and you’re crying out within minutes. His fingers grip the backs of your thighs, spreading them to make room for his body to line of with yours and then he’s pushing in slowly. Through a crack of your eyelid, you see his focus on where the two of you connect, brown eyes dark and hair slicked back save for one stray curl folded over his temple. Teeth gritted and breath hissing as he fills you, slowly, taking in the sight for what it is, feeling it for what it is, living up to his promise to get you out of your head as he bottoms out and your mouth goes slack.

“Theeeere we go, huh, darlin’?” One of his hands snake up to grip your chin gently, pulling your thrown back head toward him. Thick fingers caress the too hot skin there and his eyes soften as your own fly open when he leans forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, the obscene sound of him pushing in deeper and your walls clenching around him. “Look at those pretty eyes, starin’ up at me with nothing behind them, that’s exactly what we wanted, wasn’t it?”

All you can do it try to nod, his hand so large cradling the side of your face, his lips so tantalizingly close but your body is frozen, the breath caught in your throat as you pulse around him, pleasure rippling through your body as he throbs deep inside you. He must see the way they tremble and he closes his mouth around yours, giving you exactly what you wanted without you needing to ask. When he pulls back, his teeth glint in the faint light seeping in through the window.

“Don’t gotta think about nothin’ else but how full you feel. Deserve to turn your thoughts off and just focus on gettin’ fucked.”

He’s pulling back a bit, his knees caging you in as they squeeze around your hips.

You can barely take a breath before he’s slamming back in and it’s pushed from your lungs.

Over and over again.

The day starts off normally, a plan in motion to tell Joel once he returns from one of his shifts. Tess spends the day helping to move most of Jean’s stuff out of the shitty apartment she had been given alongside two other single girls. Not enough room for her to even have her own space. But Tess was willing to give up her bedroom and move into the living room to provide some semblance of privacy and control for the young girl. You had taken her to the clinic, as well. Dropped her off and were due to pick her up any moment now, but you’re kneeled down in front of the toilet.

Your own sickness seems to linger while Tess is back in good health. Her color coming back while yours remains pallor, hot flashes and cold spells waring underneath your skin and making you nauseous. You were doing your best to hide the worst of the symptoms from Joel, not wanting him to feel like he needed to use the stock of goods and cards for more medicine that only worked at first. You’re just grateful that awful cough that rattled your brain and hurt your throat was gone, the phlegm that seemed to either clog up your sinuses or run far too freely gone as well. It had been a bad chest cold, same as Tess and you didn’t understand why you were better, but you weren’t…better.

You had given blood at the clinic, just to be cautious.

Because you were beginning to get worried. Between the new responsibility of caring for and protecting Jean, the rather startling reach out from Bill concerning new habits from Frankie he’s developed and the increasing scarcity of things to find in the city, you were feeling a slow simmering panic begin to form in the back of your mind and weigh down your mental and physical resolve.

The cold chill settling in the air wasn’t helping, telling you that it was about to get a while lot worse as the temperature dropped and winter weather became a daily struggle on top of it all. Snow and ice in Boston was normal this time of year, to begin falling from the sky and form on the ground.

Picking Jean up from the clinic was supposed to be a simple task. But you honestly don’t remember much of it. The ringing in your ears had started once the doctor had turned to you and read the results of your own testing. Effectively pulling the entire god damn earth’s crust from beneath your feet. You don’t remember the trek back to the apartment, nor the way that Jean was glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. Bottom lip between teeth as she contemplated commenting on same diagnosis that was read to you.

Shock. You were in shock. Mind reeling from the fact that now there wasn’t just one pregnancy to navigate, but two.

All you know is the startling cold of porcelain seeping through the towel you had placed over the top of the lid as you knelt in the bathroom once again. Stomach heaving and throat burning, heart beating far too fast as you struggled to regain your breath. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, a sharp contrast in how hot they were compared to the tile that surrounded you.

Just as you managed to stand up from your rather humbling position in front of the toilet again, you hear it.

The boom of Joel’s voice through the thin walls.

He was home early.

And Tess must’ve just told him what you two have been handling the past few days.

Keeping as silent on your feet as possible, not wanting to sound the creaks of your aged flooring, you inch into the living room and move into the kitchen. His voice is clear as a bell and angry.

“It’s just another fucking human being that’s going to be subjected to a shitty life and even shittier people. How do you think that kid is gonna feel when they learn about how they were conceived? You think she’s gonna be able to sit her kid down and explain to them the shit she had to endure? That she was raped and it was either go through with the birth or risk her life ending the pregnancy? You think that’s any kind of thing to put on child in this god forsaken world?”

“Joel, she’s scared. She said you told her to come to you for help. And Cane and I are an extension of that-“ Tess’s voice is raised, an attempt to wrangle in Joel’s own but its fruitless. You’ve only heard him sound like this when he deals with less than savory trade partners. You’ve only heard him when it was that first year of knowing him. When he didn’t trust you or share your bed. Before the shadow of a life you two slowly and carefully curated together.

“Just cause y’all are women doesn’t mean you know better about this than me. Don’t you try to pull that sexist bullshit with me, Tess. You know just as well as I do that bringing a new life into this world is a mistake. The risks of pregnancy before were deadly, with the help of machines and medicine. But now?”

He scoffs loud enough for you to hear it through the walls. You don’t flinch, though you know you would’ve once upon a time. There’s truth in his words, no matter how he’s weaponizing it to prove his point. To deny getting involved in the situation.

“Now she’s as good as dead if she goes through with it. And what if she does manage to give birth to a healthy baby and she’s the one stuck paying the price? Bleeds out or needs to be cut open, then there’s just another orphan the system is gonna abuse and use for their twisted sense of righteousness.”

“Joel-“

“She’s gonna be stuck with a kid, do you realize how much time and effort and work is gonna go into that and it’s all gonna fall on us. On me. And I am too fucking old for this shit.” You can hear silence that greets his harsh words, the raw and unfiltered emotions he feels on the matter. You knew Tess had a kid before all this and it must be hard for her to grapple with the reality of the situation. Especially as it brings up memories and her own past emotions. “There is no way in hell this is going to work out.”

“She came to us for help, Joel. You instilled in her that you would look after her, no matter what. And guess what? This is something big! She can live here with me, I can…I can help her through the rough patches, I know what it’s like to have a less than smooth time of it.”

“Tess…”

“I’m going to help her, Joel. From one mother to a prospective one. As a parent, I would think you feel at least a little connected to the issue at hand.” That gave you as much pause as it seemed to Joel. The silence that permeated the air was heavy, crackling tension palpable even through the walls.

“This is dangerous, this is stupid and reckless. Children aren’t a blessing, they’re a curse.” His even but thudding steps could be heard as he makes his way to the door. You’re still in shock a few moments later when it doesn’t slam shut, it doesn’t even open. He must’ve turned around and you can almost picture him looking over his shoulder. All broad and brooding, angry. “This is a mistake.”

With no other outlet for what you’re feeling, you shove your hands into the sleeves of your jacket and grab your keys from the nails they hang on beside the door. Glancing on the sleeping form of Jean on the couch, you’re relieved that she’s in a deep enough sleep to not hear the harsh words of the man who she had sought out for help.

You don’t even dare glance at the end of the hallway, not knowing what you would do if you glimpsed Joel at this moment.

And that scared you.

That you didn’t know if you would curl up into his chest, wrap your arms around his neck or waist and burrow your face into him. Inhale his scent and be comforted by the way he holds you back. Or if you would scold him for his choice of words, for the way he’s backtracking suddenly as the situation turns now to something he doesn’t have the patience and energy to deal with.

That you didn’t know if the words would immediately fall from your lips or stay lodged in your throat and suffocate you.

He had given Jean his attention, his protection, his word that he would look out for her. And he’s standing there determining the course of her future that would best benefit him. That would work in his favor, to not have to deal with something so monumentally important. The news isn’t the best, it isn’t born of a decision between two consenting adults who are determined to nurture and love. Hell, you aren’t even sure if Jean had ever admitted to wanting to be a mother beyond not feeling right with doing away with her condition. But it was something, it was someone.

Hope. It was hope you were feeling as you sped down the hallway and away from the harsh words that hang in the air.

Hope for a future that isn’t the same damn thing day in and day out. Fighting and hustling for supplies, for food, for water, for space in a crowded zone. That isn’t protecting your territory and your smuggled items, that isn’t holding fast to your going rates as people challenge them and clamor for them because even if you did want to provide things that were hard to find or considered contraband, you still needed to benefit from the effort and skills that go into supplying them.

The news Jean brought to you, born of devastation and immoral means, could be the universe’s push of urging you toward something else. Your own news born of a moment of passion under the influence with someone who you found rare solace and genuine companionship with. The naïve notion of taking it in stride and shifting everything for the better, for the hope of making something of the situation you’ve landed yourself in is a painful one. Cultivating and nurturing goodness back into the world where you could, back into your life that had become so violent and overwhelming in its eat or be eaten nature.

You’ve been violent for so long, have had to be violent for so long. The world demanding it of you if you wanted to survive, to breath, to live to see another tortured day. And all those days that it seemed like too monumental a task, too hard a thing to commit to once again. A flicker of your old, weaker self rising up and arguing that there was no point, that it was useless to survive a hard day and the only reward was another string of them. But now you know why it was imperative that you stuck with it, defending yourself, protected yourself, used teeth and nails and haunting violence to make sure you saw the sun rise each morning and set each night over a world that was decimated beyond help.

And that reason was a phantom weight low in your belly. The new reason you would fight even harder from this point on until the moment you drew your last breath. Your child would know better than you were thrust into, would know better than this broken world and mockery of what was once city life.

You would bite and claw and fight, shoot or slash anything that threatened the life you were determined to give to your child, to give back to her. That younger version of yourself lost piece by piece as things quickly fell, as people gave into temptation and damnation the second civilization crumbled.

You don’t realize the heavy words in your mind are coming out as snarled sounds every time your boots hit the ground with your fast pace. The man Jean had described was walking home, you on his tail and none the wiser about what fate was about to deliver. What you were about to deliver.

Crazy bitch. Depraved dog. Ruthless.

His insults don’t mean anything, as you stalk him through the streets and down the hallway that leads to his apartment. His pained groans and stuttered breaths mean nothing to you as you land hit after hit, they don’t give insight to anything but satisfaction that curls your lips up at the corners.

His words, Joel’s words, ring in your ears as you feel the impact of your knuckles on the man’s face. Each punch, each hit landing as the echo inside your head gets louder and louder. Those are the only ones that mean anything, the only thing that fuels your violence. The man crumpled beneath your knees deserving of every last bit even more so and you’re convinced he would feel the exact same way. He would see his own actions as righteous, taking what was his, what was deserved- the consequences not on his mind nor something he would feel like needs his attention. An afterthought, the result of an assault he forced on someone.

All of it, everything in the entire world was just- mistake, mistake, mistake. After goddamn mistake.

But this? Delivering retribution on the man who is weaker than you ever were, it feels right. It feels like something you’re meant to do. Despite the depravity and brutality of the sentence you’ve given him, it’s a step in the right direction. It’s a step toward a better future.

Please. Stop. I’ll do anything you want. Take anything you want. Please- no…no!

And then he’s no longer breathing the air he doesn’t deserve.

With bruised hands, swollen knuckles and aching fingers you gather everything in his apartment into his own duffle bags hidden beneath the bed.

You leave the apartment, ignoring the cracked doorways as people peek through them to see what the scuffle was about, who had been target this time- the only thing left inside besides dirty linens and dishes is his body with a note stabbed into his chest with his pocket knife.

Don’t mess with my people.

Signed off with a stamp of ink in the shape of a paw.

And though it’s far too early to feel the weight in your belly, something settles there and you feel it the entire walk back to the apartment building, even as you stand at the sink and wash the blood from your hands. The stain of it lingers even with the aid of soap and cold water.

His figure used to be refreshing, a comforting thing to see at the end of every tumultuous day. But now, your eyes track him, take him in as if he posed a threat. As if he had done anything other than simply walk into the room, his muscles rippling with the action of removing his jacket. His scruff a dark shadow in the low light that glitters when the gray there catches the light. He’s so broad, the entire doorway filled by the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest. The same body you found comfort in when it curled around you or pressed down upon you. But now, it’s as if a stranger has strutted into your home for all that had happened recently.

Large, calloused hands reach for his belt, remove with a simple pull through the fabric holding it in place and you feel nausea rise at the spike of desire that pools between your legs. Feelings and urges war with each other in your mind and heart, body reacting to his as he approaches. Your head tilting into the cradle of his palm even as your mind screams at you that he doesn’t care. This is the same man who had declared loudly and determinedly that he wanted no part in the situation at hand. The one that involved a child. He hadn’t known his words were not only for another woman but for you too.

“You okay, darlin’? You look a little waxy there. The meds workin’ alright or do I need to go and get some more from the infirmary?”

“Fine, Joel.”

“Hey,” His eyes search yours as he tips your chin up, locking onto them and trying to find out what you’re not voicing. But he can’t seem to, because his brow furrows and the corners of his lips pull down. “You sure?”

“Had to take someone out, is all. Muscles weren’t used to being used like that.” The admittance doesn’t lift any of the weight in your chest, but the words are out. No longer caged between your ribs with the other secrets you now carry.

“Tell me you didn’t.” He takes a step back, and he’s not upset…but he’s- something. How were you supposed to know it was fear, when you swallowed yours down so long ago?

“I’ll tell you I did, because it needed to be done. He didn’t deserve to breath anymore. He forced her, Joel. He manipulated her long before that and then when she was finally free from him, he goes and-“

“You shoulda let me handle it.”

“Why? Because I’m too weak?” The snarl in your words has him removing his hand from you, giving you space. He lets out a heavy breath as he realizes the way you had taken his worry, his fear.

The room is crackling, the energy flowing from you having built up for days, weeks now. It hadn’t bothered you at first, it hadn’t bothered you at all. Until someone had made a comment that you had been made to heel, fucked into your rightful place. Just as you had been leaving the clinic earlier that day. You had been preoccupied, yes that’s true, but that didn’t mean you had taken a step to the side and allowed for authority to shift. You had simply begun to focus more on finding things that would not only benefit the anticipated needs of the zone’s occupants, but of Bill and Frank as well. Then you had gotten sick, all of that paired with the reality you were facing alongside Jean and no one could blame you for the whirlwind that had replaced your heart.

“You’re just tired, is all. Not weak, I could’ve been there for backup.” He tries to keep calm, but you can see the way the muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks from the collection of items on the dining table, to where you had made up a nest of sorts on the couch as you had tried to get some time out of the bed you really should be swathed in to recover. “Let’s get you another dose of meds and maybe a shower.”

And you know he isn’t trying to belittle your emotions or step around them. He’s seeing them for what they are, as least as best he can. He knows you’re overwhelmed, that small things grow into big things over time, and this is one of those moments where you realize that they have and it’s completely out of your control.

“‘M fine.” You can’t help the snap of your teeth as you clench your teeth, head pounding and stomach turning. You hadn’t left for days but you had heard the rumors going around as you and Tess all but disappeared from the scene when you both fell sick. Determined to get out and reclaim some semblance of control, you reach for your coat. The clack of plastic makes you freeze, worried that the object got shoved from the depths of the inside pocket it’s hidden in.

Joel takes the moment to come up behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. Grounding himself and attempting to ground you too, knowing there was no stopping you if you wanted to get some space. You know he wouldn’t take that from you, try to control that part of you. He needed space sometimes too, even on the good days. But this wasn’t one of them, this was a bad day. A monumentally bad one. And it’s made even heartbreakingly worse by the confession he breathes into the back of your neck, his forehead pressed to back of your head as he inhales your scent. Don’t go. Love you. Need you safe while you’re sick.

You freeze, processing.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

It echoes in your mind, his voice caressing and soothing despite everything. It calms you enough to take a deep breath, to try and center yourself for the barest of moments.

And it sounds so good, his voice quietly voicing the warmth and affection that had developed, that had been carefully cultivated between you two over the years. But as good as they sound, they don’t bring you the comfort you know he hopes that they will. Because he’s already undermined the sentiment, he’s already crumbled the very foundation of what you two stand on. It breaks your heart a little to not return the words, even as you feel them harden and catch in the middle of your throat.

“You gotta know that, by now.” He fills the silence as your body tenses in his hold.

But the timing of it, the words he had spoken so devoutly just the previous day are like shrapnel stuck in your skin, burning and stinging. No amount of picking at them will take away the damage they’ve done, clear the burns and the irritation, the pain.

“Didn’t know you were the type of man who cast aside a pregnant woman who came to you for help. A woman who you’ve done nothing but try and watch out for until this point.” Your voice is a whisper, anger bubbling up, heartbreak spilling your chest open, body almost numb from the way everything was so poetically fucked.

“You’re right, I’ve done nothing but try and watch out for her. And guess what? She still got hurt, she still got assaulted, she’s still in this goddamn situation that has no good outcomes!” He’s pulling away, you turn to face him. The darkness that had fallen as night settled is not longer comforting against the onslaught of photophobia you had been experiencing all day. Now it feels suppressive, it feels like you’re in a cage that you can’t escape from. The words Joel had said and is now saying are like locks, connecting together in a twisted way to make you feel the weight of how they can’t possibly be coming from the same person.

“Is it really that bad of a situation?”

“Is it- for fuck’s sake, Cane.” He scrubs a wide palm over his face, the scruff of his neck bristling at the action and causing goosebumps to sprout all along your arms. “I think I get a decent read on you and then you go and ask somethin’ like that. Do you not see how this will affect us? Affect everything we try to do to survive?”

His voice has shifted from anger to something that rings warning bells in your head, it’s not desperation and its not beseeching. But there’s something in the deep timbre that alights your nerves and makes you feel as if everything between you will be determined in the next choice of words. Despite how you feel, despite the way things have been going, the groove you’ve found with him and Tess. Despite the smuggling getting harder but still holding a majority of the supplies and power, and how Joel returns to you every night. Despite it all, the phantom weight you feel low in your middle compels the words that leave your lips next.

“I’m not even sure if I know what love truly is but if it’s not what I feel for you then I have no clue. It’s never simple and perhaps it just speaks to how I’m meant to be alone.”

“What’s more simple than telling me how you feel?” His eyes are narrowed, though you see the way his irises are blown out. You wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s panicking, but he’s not…he’s hadn’t expected anything other than reciprocation. And it breaks your heart, the chasm in your chest deepening as you realize you can’t gift them to him as easily as you would’ve been able to just twenty-four hours prior.

“Because I heard you, Joel!” Your words leave you in a shout, an angry frustrated cry that bursts from your chest. Unable to quell the spike of emotions, this wasn’t just about Jean anymore. “I heard you talking about how that girl you’ve taken under your wing suddenly means nothing to you the second you can’t handle the situation. The things you said, the fucking vitriol in your voice when you talked about an innocent, a baby.”

“That’s what changed your mind? Affected everything I’ve done in the past four years, we’ve done in the past four years.”

“Yes! Because you- it- because it was so hateful. Like, I get it, Joel, really. You’re a big scary man, you’ve got the brooding scowl down and the razor sharp glare, but she needs our help with this. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I’m not about to tell her what to do with her own body. You cannot be so daft to not think that that’s not going to alter the way I think about you at least a little.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to respond, his full lips pull down into a deep frown and his brow furrows, but he doesn’t say anything else. His eyes hard, sharp on you as he watches the way you shrug your jacket on and stand in front of the door. With a hand on the knob, you look back over your shoulder with a set expression, not willing for him to see any glimpse of what’s going on in your head.

“I’m going to take Jean to Lincoln. It’ll be safer for her there, better place to raise her mistake.”

The instinct to run, to protect, to build for not one but two mistakes settles deep in your bones as you realize the notion was a solitary one. Joel’s own instincts clashing with yours. Preservation and protection flare up and make you defensive, make you willing to walk away from the life you created with someone you love, to deny them the last true thing that makes life worth living- of loving and being loved in return, they allow you push through the heartache of leaving it all behind.

“I’ll be staying there to help her through everything.”

You don’t hear the whispered plea to not leave that falls from his lips, eclipsed by the sound of the slamming door. Or you do, and it push it from your memory for all the pain it brings to recall it.

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morganski-19 · 2 months ago

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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 49

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 46, part 47, part 48

Wayne’s so tired when he gets back from work, he just wants to fall on his bed and sleep for a day. But he can’t, not yet. Because Steve’s telling him the phone’s for him, and he should take it.

Finally, after months of saving and looking, Wayne put in an offer at a place. Nice little house with two bedrooms, even one with an en suite bathroom. Nice kitchen, good sizes living room, an actual driveway. Even a basement. Everything Wayne’s always wanted but never thought he could have.

His offer was exactly asking price, he couldn’t think of parting with anything more. The phone call was probably from the realtor Mrs. Henderson gave him, telling him that they rejected it. Wanted him to go higher. Like every other house he’s looked at. Just people trying to get more money to start their lives out of the town they ran from within days.

Wayne nods at Steve while he takes the phone. “Wayne Munson,” he sighs into the phone. Already ready for impact.

“Mr. Munson,” the realtor’s cheery voice comes in through the line. Way too early for nine in the morning. “I have some great news, they accepted your offer.”

“What?” he blurts out. Needing to know that his half-asleep mind just didn’t make that up.

“The house, they accepted your offer. You can get the keys as soon as the payment goes through, and everything gets signed.”

It was real. He got the house. A dream he’s long given up on, now a reality. Wayne doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act. The sleep keeps dragging him to the floor, but he almost feels like floating.

“Mr. Munson, are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. I just got back from a shift, but can I come in this afternoon to get everything settled?”

“Let me look.” There is rustling of some papers over the line. “It looks like I can meet with you at three thirty to get everything signed, how does that sound?”

Somehow Wayne musters up the energy to smile. “That works, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Wayne hangs up the phone on the receiver, not sure how or what he’s feeling. The tiredness still pulling at his bones, but excitement pumping through his heart. He feels like a kid again, too excited to fall asleep.

It’s weird, having a dream that was so long forgotten it became impossible. What was he supposed to do know that it was not only probable but completed?

There’s so much he has to do. Pack away their things there, get some new furniture. Maybe he can go to that thrift store and find some stuff. Just little things to get them through. They need new everything.

Maybe they should stay here for a few more weeks and slowly build up the house. Get things as the pay checks come in, starting with beds and building to a couch. They could get some of those stupid things in houses that always seemed pointless. Like two end tables, or stupid decorations. Something that no one with a soul buys but get anyway because it’s a statement piece.

Wayne finds himself walking toward the living room. Needing to tell someone. Physical exhaustion in each step, but he feels like flying.

“We got the house,” he says with pure disbelief.

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“We got the house,” he says again. Certainty coming through his voice.

“Holy shit.” Eddie motions for Steve’s hand. “Help me up.”

Steve holds out his hand and holds it steady as Eddie uses it to push himself up. Eddie stumbles over to Wayne and collapses in a hug.

“We got a house.”

“We got a house,” Wayne repeats. Tears finding their way to his eyes.

“Congratulations,” Steve says forcefully. Wayne looks at him, seeing the slump of his shoulders. “I’m happy for you guys.”

He knew this would happen when they agreed to live here. When Steve decided to open up, not only his home, but his heart. Show them how an empty house could feel full again. Just to be left empty once more.

But Steve has to move, too. Sometime soon. Maybe he can find a nice apartment with one of his friends. That way it won’t feel so bad leaving him here. And it’s not like they’ll go far. How could they, with everything that’s happened. Eddie will still need help some days, and Steve could come over any time. And there was the elephant in the room he’s been avoiding, that will keep them close.

Wayne can say that he’ll miss living with him. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have believed those words were true. But it was nice living with Steve. Having another person to help out with Eddie, help out with the house. Having little meals left for him when he comes back from his shifts.

But, as much as that hurts, Wayne’s overjoyed. They finally have a house. It’s more than he’s ever asked for.

Little bit of a shorter part to start off the final Wayne pov chapter, can't believe it's already here tbh.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #wayne munson #wayne pov #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic

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roseonne · 10 months ago

Text

next time

Mephistopheles attempts to ask you out on White Day.

a mephisto x mc / reader for white day ! ( ao3 link )

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

"Alright. Class dismissed."

Finally.

Mephistopheles lets out the mental groan he's been holding onto since the beginning of class, around three eons ago. (He's exaggerating, obviously, but three hours did feel an awful lot longer today, for some reason.) Normally, being stuck to his chair with his ears almost hurting from hearing the significance of magical potions and their hazards, not only to humans but to angels and demons as well, over and over again, is a tolerable occurrence for him. So now, seeing that he's seemingly over everything that's had happened to him within the span of just one day, irritates the life out of him.

Hastily, and with a hint of recklessness, the RAD Newspaper Club (former) president wastes not a moment in gathering up his things and taking his leave.

Oh, thus he realizes, whilst on his way out.

Maybe that's what's keeping him so preoccupied? The piled-up articles he still has to proofread and publish; the photos in his camera that he's to edit first, then upload to the official RAD Website; and a terrifyingly long list of all the other deadlines he ought to catch up to, academic and personal matters combined.

A sigh of distress escapes the noble demon's lips. Without much thought, he fetches his D.D.D. out of his pocket and the screen immediately comes to life.

03/14/XXXX 4:46 P.M. Today's Daily Reminder: "Don't forget to celebrate White Day in your own, special way!" -Lord Diavolo

Well. That explains it.

Troubled, Mephistopheles runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the locks he made sure to keep as neat and tidy as possible. As much as he desires to fulfill Lord Diavolo's honorable (although sometimes questionable) requests, just how in the Devildom is he to juggle all his tasks and duties at once? He has his work cut out for him today, and for the rest of the week. Such a poor demon he's become. And to make things even more complicated on his end, apparently, he isn't getting any of his listed items done right on schedule. Unfortunately so.

For as if in response to his already-raging psychological turmoil, the universe provides him with the biggest, most troublesome distraction he's yet to learn to ignore and conquer...

Mephistopheles sees you.

"MC!" he calls out from the top of his lungs suddenly, surprising both you and himself as his voice appears to have acted against his will. And the fact that he rushes to your side upon instinct truly isn't helping him in the slightest. "Fancy bumping into you now of all times."

"Mephisto!" You greet him with a smile, and right away, he feels the warmth of you emanating from the center of his chest. "Good work today!"

"Likewise." Mephistopheles places a hand over his heart and bows at you slightly. "Are you heading home now?"

Your polite nod in confirmation to his query earns a rather sharp click of the demon's tongue.

"Isn't it too early for that?" Mephistopheles raises an eyebrow. "Why don't I do you the honor of inviting you out with me for dinner, perhaps? Of course, on behalf of Lord Diavolo and the rest of RAD, we're grateful for your efforts in keeping the exchange program alive!"

The noble demon senses you feeling a little taken aback; and he understands. He figures you're probably aware of how busy he is, considering how tedious it is being the main individual manning the RAD Newspaper Club. Again, even he is growing more and more perplexed at how his body's acting. Doesn't he have so many things to do? How is he able to make it seem like he's got so much time to spare while keeping a straight face? Oh, Diavolo. He no longer recognizes himself at all.

"Uhm..." you find yourself stuttering, evidently unsure as to the kind of answer you'll provide your current pursuer.

"If you're wondering how we'll meet, I'll pick you up at the House of Lamentation by seven." But Mephistopheles is more than ready to hush each and every one of your possible concerns.

Shifting a little of your weight over to your other foot, you hum quite a playful, "Well..."

Crossing his arms, but raising his index finger in the air, the demon proudly declares, "It'll be my treat, MC. Don't worry. I got you."

And you've made up your mind; Mephistopheles recognizes the familiar light in your eyes the moment your gazes briefly met and locked.

"MC, there you are!"

But what perfect timing. In the midst of his persuasion, here comes the residents of Purgatory Hall. And the brothers of the House of Lamentation. And well, basically everyone else you hold very close to your heart.

Clearing his throat in a slight panic, Mephistopheles tries to regain your attention, "MC, please. If you would justー"

He's too late.

"I'm so sorry, Mephisto." It's the sincerest, most bittersweet apology he's been told so far. "Maybe next time!" you add quickly, as you at last get dragged farther and farther away from him.

Down the drain, goes his infrequent chance with you, yet again. Mephistopheles squeezes his eyes closed and chews on his lower lip; his mind all blank, save for the resentfulness looming heavily over him. Forget about his deadlines; his tasks; his duties; his role in the future of Devildom. Is it too much for him to ask a mere moment of your time? Is he never really going to learn more about you at this point?

Mephistopheles doesn't see it as a fair game anymore. He's one of the first few demons who's heard of your name the very day you arrived at the Devildom; and yet at least a minute of decent, proper conversation between the two of you, alone, still remains beyond his reach.

Seeing you share the smile that he is able to somehow find comfort in with everyone else, except him... He admits, it causes a twinge of pain to swell across his chest.

How many next time's have you promised him by now, anyway? He bets you won't remember, either.

But since he isn't the type to just sit in a corner and cry; maybe he just has to keep trying, then? Like the lessons in class, over and over. He must push forward, until hopefully one day, you'll learn to look at him from a perspective different from the one you have of him at present.

...Great.

Looks like he's added yet another questionable thing up his list; which he normally would've called a pain in the rear, but it's you he's thinking of so... You're the exception. His exception. You always are, and always have been.

Guess I'll have to try something harder than initiating conversations, Mephistopheles brings his eyes to the sky and promises; to you and to himself. Next time.

And once he succeeds in this mission of forever, only then can he say...

That he's indeed made the progress he so longs for. With you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mephistopheles #mephistopheles x mc #mephistopheles x reader #gender neutral reader #white day #this is a coming out post #for being a mephisto enjoyer #T_T #i cri girls boys and in betweens he so fine #inside seonne's head

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chillinglyadventurous · 3 months ago

Note

Taking advantage of the fact that it's Halloween month >:D

Ford with a scientist friend who is very reserved, just work and friendship.

Then Bill Cipher arrives and his main plan was to have a deal with the Scientist!Reader , but the reader is not stupid, so it ends with Bill making the deal with Ford, Bill puts Ford in a complicated situation by making the Reader give in to the deal, but deep down the reader knows he has nothing to fear.

My idea is that the reader, having knowledge of the bizarre things of Gravity Falls, will have a very disturbed head, with the worst things (like the episode that goes into Stan's head but is terrifying) but what could be so terrifying to make Bill back down 🤨

Well give me your opinion on this 😋 have a nice day

So, I’ve had a kind of similar idea before! I just didn’t know how to write it. Still don’t, if I’m being honest.

So, I’m a Chilling Adventures of Sabrina fan. I think mid season 2, I started writing a little fanfiction that happened after the season was over and before season 3 came out. I won’t get into the details because that work has since been deleted along with the AO3 account it was published under.

Anyways, the basic premise was that my OC eventually had more powers than Lucifer, stemming from a deal with God. OC was basically a god herself. Couldn’t die. Died a couple times. Came back from the dead. Super messed up stuff.

Well, I think something similar would translate well into this request. So, basically, you would be this sort of all-powerful being, but you would just want a ‘normal’ life, basically. With the same intentions Bill had lied about having, you knew Ford was a great mind. You had sought him out to teach him the mysteries of the universe. You work well with Stanford. When he eventually brings Fiddleford around, you work well with him too.

You look human. Nothing about you seems odd. Even if you did do something odd, it was Gravity Falls. No one would have noticed.

After Ford made his deal, he didn’t tell you, but you knew. You could just tell it was Bill. There had been a prophecy, the same one Ford had found and used to summon Bill. You see, either the entire zodiac could defeat Bill or you could. Ford was the six fingered hand and you, being all powerful as you were, knew that. Not that it wasn’t obvious to begin with.

The only way he could beat you, destroy the prophecy, was if you made a deal with him. If you did that, he wouldn’t need the portal or the rift to take over dimension 46’/. His deal would give him his physical form, but you were too smart for that.

However, one night after Fiddleford had gone home/was asleep, Bill would come in, dressed in Ford’s skin. He would threaten to kill Ford, your now good friend. You would panic because Bill was more than capable. You wouldn’t let that happen. So, you shake his hand, but, somehow, the deal isn’t complete.

He enters your mind. At first, once he’s in there, it’s a bit darker than he had expected. Nothing seems too off and he thought it would be easy. He shuffles through your mind only to find what he thinks he’s looking for. Behind a door covered in chains, he sees it. You had orchestrated the whole thing. You were the one who had controlled him to make him destroy his own dimension in an attempt to weaken him.

The master of mind games had been manipulated. You were too powerful for him and, unlike Ford, you couldn’t be tricked so easy. You’d kill him. It was only a matter of time.

After all of this is where it could either become some sort of AU or keep with canon. If the story verged into AU territory, that could be it. There could be some grand showdown in the mindscape. Anything is possible, obviously.

On the flip side, it could keep with canon. The journals/Book of Bill which I still haven’t read because it’s been sold out where I am said Bill left for a while. Ford wondered where he was. Bill could have backed down for a little bit, hoping to keep off your radar. Does could still get sucked into the multiverse. Maybe it’s you who shows him the truth about Bill. The possibilities are endless.

All in all, I think this is an amazing idea! Apart from what I’ve gotten into here, there’s a million ways this could go. There’s a possibility of so many twists and turns!

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #feed the author

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castrian-amore · 11 months ago

Text

Bitter had the Heart

Dead Tired(Tim Drake x Danny Fenton), Tim Drake-centric, unfinished, the author is plotting, temporary character death, please check out ao3 for full tags list

3/46 Chapters | Chapter Length: 3584 words

Chapter 3: We are Not Translating Fanfiction

Tim didn’t understand why he had even picked this class for this particular credit. He technically didn’t need it. Then again it seemed more interesting than the other classes and Tim had been hoping for a challenge for once. The teacher was big on working as team and while, yeah Tim could do it. He preferred to work alone on his topics and thankfully there was an odd amount of people in his class so when he requested to do the group assignments he allowed it.

Until today.

One Daniel “Danny” Nightingale, was a late transfer into the class for unknown reason. It was also the mysterious kid in the alley. He looked a little better in person but the vote was that he was definitely sick, whether just right now or long term had yet to be determined. He leaned heavily on a cane at the moment walking with a heavy limp.

Tim could point out his handsome features though. The higher cheekbones. The stunning raven hair, his piercing blue eyes. The kid definitely wasn’t immune to the streets. The way he held himself on the verge of running. The sunken wary eyes. This kid was far too comfortable with living in fight or flight mode. If he even knew anything else it would be surprising.

The teacher pointed to Tim giving him the spot right next to him advising sitting next to the person he would be partnered with. It wasn’t required by any means but it certainly was an option, and he did.

“So, now that that’s out of the way, where was I? Oh yes the IPA. The International Phonetic Alphabet.” Professor Kaivan began his speech as Danny pulled out a piece of notebook paper and pencil sitting next to Tim.

“Uh, hi, I’m Danny,”The kid held out his hand and Tim shook it. A cold chill going up his spine from how cold he was, damn.

“Tim Drake-Wayne,”he introduced with ease, expecting the man to back away or at least move seats because of his name. The Wayne name caught most people off guard but Danny seemed unfazed by it all. In fact he didn’t even flinch or stutter or reel at who he was talking to even.

“Nice to meet you Tim,”Danny gave him a bright smile. “Apologies for having you stuck with partnering for me after I’m already a late transfer.”

“No issue. Can I ask why you had to transfer?”Tim raised an eyebrow at the man. Their words quiet as the professor droned on.

“I was in Latin, and I can fluently speak and read latin. The professor kept getting things wrong and I kept correcting them. They kept insisting because they’re the ‘professor’ but I kept insisting I was right, which I was. She didn’t like that so she kicked me out. She got so annoyed she refused to teach me. Thus leaving me with about to loose my credit I really needed this semester so I asked if I could late transfer into another language based class.”

“And here you are?”

“Here I am. Only teacher that was willing to give me a chance.”

Tim snorts a little. Tim had only almost been kicked out of a class one, and that was one of his law classes. Tim kept correcting the professor over and over and over again, and it kept pissing off the professor so bad. Tim had a sneaking suspicion he was going to like this guy. He just hoped the guy was as intelligent as he seemed.

Being fluent in a dead language was no easy task. None of the bats were fluent in a lot of dead languages but they all knew several spoken languages and a little of a few dead ones. Tim more than others. Books were always his specialty. He preferred to spend the house researching alone in his room or the bat cave. It was part of the reason the other claimed he had a coffee addiction. He did not by the way. He didn’t know what Dick was even talking about.

“Professor Kaivan is pretty relaxed about that kind of stuff. He assigns minimal homework and prefers to do the group projects over everything else.”

“Yeah his rate-my-professor score is pretty high.”

“Sounds about right,”Tim agrees, turning back to the topic at hand for the moment.

“Now, learning the International Phonetic Alphabet is not for the faint of heart. Having someone to listen and assist when learning this is vital. One of the many reasons everyone in this room has a partner. Learning it is vital for the rest of your success in this class. Breaking down specific sounds a language makes and making it easy for everyone to read any language in this format.”

Professor Kaivan was an interesting man. Until four and a half years ago he had some of the worst rate your professor scores, but it was rumored that after the death of his partner he sobered up and wanted to help people. Since then, he has been a great teacher. Using his partner method to teach people, becoming a caring professor, giving students days in class to study and work on whatever work needed to be done. He wasn’t a super hard professor to have.

His hair was graying as the man was into his late 40s going on 50s. Sideburns and his beard graying though. He dressed pretty chill too, half the time coming into class wearing a casual cardigan and a beanie. He was an accomplished guy with a full on doctorate in linguistics. Masters in Psychology and bachelors in the study of Italian. Most of his focus seemed to be on the intricacies of the Italian language but Tim was fluent in Italian and didn’t care to take any of his italian classes. Not that the man had many.

“I know the 107 letters can be difficult and if you don’t know what to listen for they can sound similar to each other, but that’s why this whole unit is just on breaking down the IPA, and making sure all of us can read, and understand it. Okay?”

Mummers of okays and yesses echoed through the lecture hall. Tim opened his phone, scrolling to Dick’s phone number and clicking on it.

Timmy Boi: Guess who just walked into my Linguistics class as a late transfer?

Dickie Bird: Who?

Timmie Boi: Alley kid

Dickie Bird: No fucking way. Is he that rude in person?

Timmie Boi: No not yet at least. We’re partnered up for the semester though, so plenty of time for me to find out heh. Dude’s got a cane.

Dickie Bird: So not our so-called mystery vigilante Jason wants us to meet?

Timmie Boi: Unlikely, He also looks sick as a mother fucker Dick. Like it’s bad.

Dickie Bird: Damn, so still no leads until Friday?

Timmie Boi: Unfortunately not. Cams still distorted as fuck with those symbols?

Dickie Bird: Just like all the others. Only copies we have are hand drawn references. No one can get a clear pic.

Timmie Boi: Anyluck on the Distortion dude? Anything on him?

Dickie Bird: Uhh, he showed up 3 years ago? Works for Jason mostly. Started as a runner, then became body guard and personal protection for a lot of the shipments going in and out of Jason’s domain. That was only after bribing over 15 inmates too.

Timmie Boi: How the fuck did Jason keep someone, a meta namely, from us for so long?

Dickie Bird: Who knows. One guy said something about protecting a child. The child is Jason’s guard dog. Brutal when he needs to be. Maybe he’s scarier than he looks? People kept quiet over fear?

Timmie Boi: You’re the people person, but even then if people are scared we would have heard something else. I just think we have something else in the picture here that we’re missing it all.

Dickie Bird: Well, any cameras he passed by that night went to static. I had Barb check it out for us.

Timmie Boi: So his gift can mess with cameras? Only mildly concerning.

Dickie Boi: Wait, why are we having this conversation right now Tim? You’re in class?!?!?! I’m leaving you alone. Pay attention, and don’t fall asleep, and DRINK WATER FOR ONE IN YOUR CAFFEINE ADDICTED LIFE.

Timmie Boi: YOU CAN’T STOP ME DICK. I’M GETTING COFFEE RIGHT AFTER THIS.

Speaking of coffee, he could probably get mystery-dude’s phone number for their homework and stuff. Maybe he could even get coffee with him and help him with his classes. And maybe find out more about that night in the alley.

“What are you doing after class?”Tim spoke up to look over at the man. Danny wasn’t even paying attention to the lecture. He was… drawing? Way better than anything Tim could draw that was for sure. Maybe he would get along with Damian? Tim liked the easier stuff, taking pictures. He could draw but he didn’t like it nearly as much as being able to get behind a camera and take some beautiful photos. Man, he should get back into that again. Dick was always pressing him to get back into a hobby outside of crime solving. He liked to stick with what he was good at though.

“Oh? Uh nothing really, just contemplating existence. Why what’s up?”Danny gave a soft shy smile. Oh no. His smile was cute. Also wait, contemplating existence?

“Well, I figured if we’re gonna be stuck together all semester we could get coffee and talk about the project and get to know each other a little better.” Tim could watch a wave of anxiety slip over the man.

“Well, I don’t know maybe,”a small shrug then a quiet moment of contemplation. “Actually, sure that’d be nice!”

“Great!”

“Wait, we already have a project?”Danny’s eyes widened looking from his doodle of something? Tim couldn’t make it out but it was pretty? Looked like a pool of swirling water sketched in a gray scale. Who knows. This guy must have been so distracted he didn’t hear the teacher’s words about their project. Rewriting a speech in a non-english language into the phonetic alphabet.

Tim couldn't help but laugh a little at him.

This caught a small look from the teacher and Tim stifled his laughter a little even as Danny began to fight his own laughter as the two looked at each other. That was so dumb. Why was he even laughing at that?

“I’ll explain after class.”

“Sounds good to me, I’m just sitting here… doodlin’.”

“I see that..” Tim gave him a smile as Danny chuckled himself turning back to his drawing. The man stretching his arms upwards turned to actually pay attention to the teacher. A small frown coming across his face noticing the thin spindly scars edging up the side of his neck across the back of his neck. What the fuck was that? He shook his head.

Tim stayed mostly alert the rest of the hour long class. Kaivan had started going through the various letters of the IPA and their origins and why they were chosen. It was interesting to say the least. He had learned a lot and the class was definitely different than what he was used too. Danny on the other hand.

Fuck Tim hoped the dopey smiles and spaced out stared was how he payed attention or their partnership was going to be a lot more strenuous than he originally thought. He swore he saw him falling asleep a couple times there before jerking himself awake. Not that Tim could blame him. He averaged only about 3 hours a night if he was lucky. Then again, Tim didn’t exactly play the whole “catch up on sleep” game.

It did take a gentle nudge from Tim to get the man away and on their way to the coffee shop. He was slow as he walked with the cane but Tim didn’t say anything about it. Everyone had their little quirks and issues. Lord knows Tim had his.

The cold autumn air in Gotham was settling around them.

“What’s your major?” It was Danny who spoke up with a quiet smile.

“Oh, business. I plan to take over my father’s company,”Tim replied.

“Wow, impressive.” Danny looked up at the sky with a small chuckle as Tim raised an eyebrow at him.

“Thanks, what’s yours?”

“Engineering, I was going to do Astronomy but we’ll the Gotham Skies aren’t exactly the clearest.” Danny chuckled softly as Tim gave a nod.

“The smog helps no one. Glad you found a major you like though.” There was a silence settling between them but it didn’t lessen the mood in fact it almost felt welcomed in a quiet way.

“Same to you!” Danny looked up at the crows stopping the duo in their tracks. There were almost 10 crows just watching them. Tim, had never seen that. All them staring at Danny. “Boo.” The man whispered and with a small chuckled, all 10 flew off the branches and into the air leaving Tim to watch and then follow. Missing how the birds simply landed up ahead.

Tim was sort of lost in thought about the revelations they could possibly have about the whole Distortion situation.

“Heyo, Timmy,”Danny’s voice dragged him from his thoughts and his slow pace holding the door open. “Don’t hurry up and you’ll be soaked.” He hadn’t even noticed a slow drizzle starting to fall from the sky. He held his hand out before running to meet the man.

Tim joined the man into the warm coffee shop. The scent of pumpkin spice filling their noses as they moved to get in line.

“Didn’t get too wet did you?”Danny asked concern surprising Tim.

“Ah, no, don’t worry about me though. I might be more concerned for when we leave here though.”

“I’m not too worried.” The man gave a nonchalant shrug. “Can’t kill me worse than I already have been.” Was that a death joke?

“Oh?”Tim gave a smirk. He wasn’t normally one for puns, those were Dick’s thing but also… Dick wasn’t here. “Did it have you rolling in your grave?” Dick could never find out about this but then Danny’s shit eating grin only widened across his face.

“Oh, for sure it was to die for after all.”

“I can’t I’m sorry,”Tim laughed with a smile. “What’re you getting? I’ll pay since I invited you out.”

“Oh, I might scare you with my order.”

“I promise you won’t. Mine is insane myself.”

“One of those extra large pumpkin spice lattes with 10 shots of espresso.”

“Extra large americano with 8 shots of espresso,”Tim quipped. “I see you’re a man just as insane as I am.”

“Oh, for sure. I’ve never met someone with an order just as bad as mine,”he admitted as he stared up at the menu. “How are the sandwiches here? Are they pretty dead-licious?”

“Oh god..”

“Or I don’t know, pretty frightful?”

“Please Danny.”

“I bet they’re boo-mbastic.”

“Who ever uses that word anymore.”

Okay Halloween was coming up admittedly. Yes there were halloween and fall decorations coming but, but god dammit Danny. It was like having another Dick around.

“You decided to fuel this.”

“I did not decide to fuel anything!”Tim complained just as they got to the counter ordering their coffees. It was a barista Tim was familiar with. A kind girl named Sarah who seemed to be all too familiar with the two of them.

“Oh! Can I also get the mac and cheese please!”Danny offered another charming smile putting some money in the tip jar. “I can pay you back Tim.”

“No worries.” Tim gave a shrug.

“Alrighty and here you are Tim.” Sarah handed him his card back with the receipt as he himself put some money in the jar.

“Damn, she knows your name?”

“I know you too Danny, Mr. 10 shots of espresso at midnight last week. You also fucking work here.”

“Love you guysssss, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Danny practically purred out with an innocent smile.

“You two together, scare me,”the barista motioned between the two of them. “But honestly, we were waiting for you two to meet.”

“I’m innocent,”Tim vouched.”Also wait, what?”

“I watched you order an extra large cup with only espresso shots in it for Finals last semester.” Sarrah refused to answer the apparent group that had been waiting for Tim and Danny to meet each other.

“I was busy!”

“You weren’t sleeping!”

“Anyways I’m going to go over there,”Danny pointed to an empty table by the window.

“Yeah, Tim. How about you go over there. With your little Date,”She emphasized the word as Danny was already over sitting down unpacking his backpack onto the table.

“He’s not my date! We literally just met!”

“Yet. Next in line please!”

“Sarah-- no-- I swear to--”Tim could have sworn he saw an exchanging of cash behind the counters. Were they betting on something. What the fuck were they betting on?!? He hissed and moved to join Danny in the opposite seat.

“So did you even catch what the group project is? How much have you studied of the Linguistics 101 class anyways?” Tim pulled out his laptop setting it in front of him. He logged in giving a small smile of the silly chaotic and group picture they had gotten last year at Christmas. Bruce stood on the far right and Jason on the far left Dick’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Damian was trying to stab Tim again who was moving to dodge it. Steph chaotically cheering the gremlin on. Cass quietly wondering if she should intervene in the middle. Duke full on panicked at what was going on as it was his first Christmas with the family. Barb covering her mouth in laughter in front of Bruce. He wanted to make sure she was included. It was his favorite photo of him and his siblings.

Fuck. Danny had been talking to him.

“Earth to Timmy.” A wave of a hand in front of his face.

“Please just Tim,”he laughs. “Sorry, yes?”

“I was asking about the IPA. Are you familiar with it? I have no idea on anything about it.”

“I know like half of it? I’ll have to learn the other half,”he admits. “But yes, the project.”

“Fuck, yeah okay what’s this project?”

“It involves reading.”

“No! WHY!”

“In another language.. That neither of us speak.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah, so we’re supposed to write down a 1,000 minimum word speech, or chapter from a book or whatever and put it into the International Phonetic Alphabet.”

“I don’t know about you but I speak a lot, like A lot of languages.”

“Yeah.. I feel the same way.”

“What do you speak?” Danny playfully pushed Tim’s computer screen down from booting up the program the professor had given them to use to type out the phonetic alphabet. It was still apparently a nightmare program, but he had decided to type it so he wouldn't be deciphering shitty handwriting.

“Mandarin, Chinese, Italian, German, French, russian, Japanese, tagalog, spanish, I think that’s all of them?”

“You speak Tagalog too!” Danny’s words switched with ease to the language.

“No fuckin’ way,” Tim had to laugh at that one. “What else do you speak?”

“Same things are you but, Esperanto, Swahili, Cantonese, javanese, Sardo(technically a dialect but you know same difference), Ukrainian, I think that’s all?”

“I thought I was the Polyglot. Oh! I also speak ASL and BSL.”

“I know bits and pieces of ASL, definitely no BSL though,”he laughs softly. “But wait what other languages does that leave?”

“Well, a lot but I mean. We could always pick an easy one we both know.”

“Italian?”

“Yeah, please. I do not want translate someone in a non-latin based alphabet. It registers funny in my brain.”

“I gotta ask though Danny… Esperanto?”

“Okay, leave me alone! I had a friend who spoke it and taught me it so we could shit about others.”

“That’s fuckin’ hilarious though,”he smirked. “But what should we translate?”

Danny looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “What if we just fucking translated the Divine Comedy.”

“Danny Nightingale, are you telling me we should rewrite one of the most famous works of Italian writing, ever. That is also notoriously translated, a lot? And is--- you know.”

“Ma Divine Commedia,”Danny laughed. Tim could not with him right now. “E la fanfiction Tim.”

“YEAH I KNOW, that’s why I can’t believe you’re suggesting it.”

“COMMEDIA.” Danny proclaimed with a snort. Fuck that was cute. Thank god his name was called to grab their stuff. He could ignore the small twinge in his chest as he brought them their coffee and the food for Danny.

“Let’s get this over with I guess.”

“YES!” Danny threw his first into the air in excitement. “This is the start a beautiful friendship Tim, I promise.”

“Are we about to be nightmares to our poor professor?”

“What? Nooooo.”

“Oh yes we fucking are,”Tim rolled his eyes and smiled as he sipped his drink pulling up the original document. They were so fucked, but at least it would be funny. If Danny was his new partner for his class maybe Friday would come sooner than he thought.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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a-killer-obsession · 4 months ago

Text

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 46 - Plans and Disguises

Unsure of what to do now that you're in Wano, you make a deal to get some help.

Word Count: ~3.5k

“Give me a hand, will you?” Law coughed, a dribble of blood running from the corner of his mouth, “they got me with a fucking seastone nail.”

“What makes you think I'm gonna help you?” You scowled, “I ain't your friend.”

“Because I know who you are, Shockwave Yin,” Law smirked, “and I know why you're in Wano. Help me out, and I can help you out.”

“You can heal yourself once I get the nail out?” You questioned. You knew a little of his devil fruit abilities, Killer made sure you were well educated on all of the Worst Generation and Emperors. Only a fool would sail the Grandline without some knowledge on the biggest players in the game.

“Yes, just fuckin’ get it out,” he grumbled, pulling the sleeve of his kimono out of the way, revealing the tattoos on his arm and the entry wound. “You don't know this place. You and your baby won't survive here unless I tell you what I know.”

You grumbled but knew you weren't in the position to refuse any information you could get. He was right, you knew shit all about this land, you didn't even know how big it was or what direction to go in to find your friends. You pulled your dagger from your thigh holster, giving him one last look of confirmation. He nodded, and you dug the blade into his skin, making the opening large enough to get your thin fingers inside; since it was seastone, you couldn't use your powers to dislodge the nail. You pushed two digits into the wound as Law groaned and grinded his teeth, fishing around for the seastone nail, a little rougher than you needed to be just out of principle. You knew you'd found it when you felt your abilities shut down, your visor now giving your vision a purple tint instead of its usual invisible filter. You pulled the nail from his wound, throwing it into the grass nearby.

Immediately, Law summoned a Room and removed the bacteria from his wound, closing it with a sigh before dismissing the blue aura. You cleaned off your knife against his already dirty clothing, much to his annoyance, reshealthing the blade and wiping your hands clean on some damp grass. You stood before him impatiently, waiting for him to hold up his side of the deal.

“Alright, alright,” Law rolled his eyes, using the tree to stand back upright, a little unstable on his feet. “I'll give you the import info. Kaido's weapon factories have poisoned this land, the water and food here, even the animals, aren't safe to consume. The only safe food comes from his farms. If you want to survive here, you need to either steal from his farms directly, or from the Flower Capital where he ships the safe food to the rich.”

“God fucking damn it,” you growled, annoyed at the extra work. You were no better off than you had been on the alliance island. How were you going to keep up with stealing enough food to sustain your milk, care for your baby, and find your crew? Law saw the way you grit your teeth in frustration, and saw an opportunity he could take advantage of.

“Your devil fruit is quite strong, yeah?” He asked. You squinted at him suspiciously, choosing not to dignify him with an answer. He rolled his eyes at your hostility. “Look, I'm guessing the baby is throwing a spanner in the works for you. Kaido took your crew, yeah? My crew have heard rumours about it, but since it doesn't concern me I haven't looked into where they're being held. I'll make you a deal though. We keep baby supplies on the ship for distributing on poorer islands, so make a deal with me. My crew will babysit, while you go look for your crew. In exchange, you lend us your power in the battle against Kaido.”

“Why should I trust you?” You growled, holding Dawn close protectively.

“Because we have a mutual enemy,” he said plainly, leaning on his long sword for support, weak from bloodloss and use of his power, “and because right now, I know you don't have any other options.”

You made an annoyed grumble, but conceded that you didn't have a better option right now. The Straw Hats trusted him, they'd already fought together several times, he seemed reliable to them at least. You trusted the Straw Hats, they'd helped you without question, and had been more than accommodating, so maybe you could extend that trust to Law, given their alliance. It was a difficult ask though, given your current experience with pirate alliances. You looked down at a sleeping Dawn nestled against your chest, not a care in the world. You couldn't keep doing this on your own, you needed to find her dads and the rest of your crew. You owed it to Kid at least, after everything he'd done for you.

“Fine, you have a deal,” you finally agreed, not seeing any better path. Law held out his hand and you made an exasperated sigh at the shit eating grin he gave you as you shook it. You felt like you'd just made a deal with the devil, but what choice did you have?

The bushes behind you rustles, and you quickly turned on your heel and drew your weapon as you sensed several people rushing at you at once. You stilled your heart and your hand though when matching branded kimono appeared through the trees. You let out a heavy breath as you resheathed your sword, you were getting really fucking sick of people jumping out of bushes today.

“Captainnnnn!” A large polar bear mink shouted in a surprisingly high pitch as he ran at Law. He scooped the tall man up like he weighed nothing, Law clearly used to this sort of treatment as the mink hugged him like a ragdoll. “You're okay!”

“Bepo, put me down,” Law complained. The bear quickly dropped him, bowing his head and apologising repeatedly. “What's your report?”

“The ruins are entirely destroyed,” a man with ginger hair sticking out from under a whale-shaped hat spoke, “but no lives were lost, thanks to Shinobu and Chopper. The group is retreating back to location B.”

“Good,” Law replied, “and Straw Hat-ya?”

“Captured,” the one with a cap with a small stuffed bird on top spoke, “unconscious, but alive we think. Looked like they were taking him to Udon.”

“Dammit,” Law growled, “five fucking minutes he's been here and he's already starting shit. Now Kaido knows our crews are here,” Law tsked. You were thankful to hear that Luffy didn't drown, but he wasn't your Monkey, and this wasn't your circus. The others looked at you questioningly, Law waving his hand nonchalantly at you as he answered their wordless questions. “This is Yin-ya, from the Kid Pirates. She'll be coming with us. Let's get moving, the Beast Pirates know I'm around now and it won't be long before they come looking to see where I went.”

“Aye aye captain!” The three subordinates spoke, giving a salute before Bepo took Law's sword for him to carry it, and the other two offered Law a shoulder each to help him walk.

You followed the four of them back through the forest to a small town, where the buildings looked run down and abandoned. There were hardly any people on the street, seemingly most of the residents had deserted the decrepit town, or perhaps died. Those left didn't look far from the grave either, hunched over in doorways, begging bowls in their hands and clothes that were practically rags at this point to cover their bodies. The town stunk of death, the air thick with it. You saw many ghosts along the way, all looking just as depressed as the living, and you had no doubt Kaido was responsible for this town's misery. ‘Location B’ turned out to be a run down looking hall that looked like it used to be used for performances. The largest building in the town by far, though the west side was entirely collapsed, and you worried about the structural integrity of the rest of the building. It had plenty of space for several small crews though, with a large foyer, a decent performance hall, and several offshoot rooms that would have been dressing rooms and the like when the building was still in use.

On the way Law explained more about Wano to you, and a little of the plans to take down Kaido. Wano was an enslaved land, with the poor being forced to work in weapon factories while Kaido built an army of artificial devil fruit users. The production of the fruit had been stopped by Law and the Straw Hats, but Kaido already had a large force, made up of strange human-animal hybrids with none of the shifting abilities of a usual zoan fruit user. The fruit had a high failure rate though, such was the risk of duplicating something as wildly difficult to replicate as devil fruits, but Kaido had accepted the risks when he shipped in crate after crate of the marred fruits. Those who the fruit successfully worked for were known as Gifters, while those who the fruit had failed for were known as Pleasures, named as such because the fruit left them with the inability to show any emotion other than joy, only ever able to laugh and smile for the rest of their life, no matter how angry or sad or scared they were. The permanent smile was also how the fake fruits received their name, known as SMILEs.

Kaido's crew, the Beast Pirates, controlled the entire island, and many residents were either dying in the factories, or starving from lack of safe food. Kaido was in league with the shogun, essentially the king of Wano, after the previous shogun had been murdered twenty years ago during a conspiracy Kaido had aided. Unbeknownst to Kaido, the son of the murdered shogun, as well as several of his retainers, had been sent to the future (or rather, the present) and the plan now was to defeat Kaido and the false shogun, and retake control with the old shogun's son back in his rightful place of power. Both the On-Air and Hawkins Pirates had joined forces with Kaido, and now patrolled alongside the Beast Pirates. Law and Luffy were part of what was know as the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai alliance, who were currently working on recruiting allies and gaining information on Kaido in the build up to a raid, planned to take place in two weeks during a local festival.

The island also had a unique climate, being a large enough landmass to split up into multiple seasonal weather patterns. Currently, you were in the summer section of the island, while the Flower Capital, where most of the Straw Hats were currently under cover, was located in the Spring area. The entire country had been cut off from the outside world for hundreds of years, with its own den-den system, newspapers, fashion, currency and culture. Hence the kimono Law's crew were wearing, and why Law's crew and the rest of the Straw Hats had been unable to contact Luffy. You could see as you entered the hall that the Straw Hats you'd travelled with also sported kimono now, ready to head off to their own undercover assignments.

Dawn had started to wake up as you arrived, and you pulled her out of the carrier so she could stretch out better and look around. She squealed excitedly as she noticed Hakugan, and Law raised a curious brow at the baby's reaction. You sighed as you struggled to contain the excited baby, “I think it's the mask,” you explained, “I think she's mistaking him for her dad.”

“Massacre Soldier is her father?” Law asked. It seemed obvious to him now, seeing the blonde hair.

“Ah, one of them,” you replied awkwardly, “it's complicated.”

“You… don't know who her father is?” He asked. He sounded a little judgmental and you tried not to take offence.

“I have two lovers, but neither is her birth father,” you replied with a scowl, expecting a pirate to be a little more open with things like sexuality, “neither am I her birth mother. She's adopted.”

“O-oh,” Law replied, “but… you're breastfeeding?”

“I lost a baby,” you sighed. Law quickly regretted this whole line of questioning, it was clear by your expression that he'd hit a sore spot. He made a mental note to himself to explain Dawn's parentage to his crew, so that nobody would ask you the same questions.

“Sorry,” he quickly said, promptly looking to change the subject after that, “Hakugan, come here.”

The masked man came jogging over, much to Dawn's delight as she reached for him. “You're on babysitting duty,” Law told him, “have someone retrieve supplies from the ship, you're going to be looking after Yin-ya's baby while she looks for her crew.”

“What?!” Hakugan groaned, “Why me?!”

“Because she's taken a liking to you,” Law said plainly, but there was a hint of amusement to his tone, “have someone help you if you must, but you're responsible for this baby while Yin-ya is busy, that's an order. We have a deal with her.”

“Fine,” Hakugan grumbled, holding his hands out for Dawn who all but jumped into his arms. You handed him the duffle bag of what supplies you had, and gave him the rundown of what she likes and needs. It wasn't a proper goodbye yet, but Law needed your attention to get you set-up so you could begin searching for your crew as soon as possible. The Straw Hats gathered here were already on their way out, along with several Heart Pirates, to find their assigned undercover posts or return to the city for more scouting, and you waved them all goodbye.

You followed Law up to what would have been the stage before this hall was abandoned, where he introduced you to the future shogun, Momonosuke, as well as his retainers. He was just a kid, you couldn't fathom how they were going to make this kid a leader, but it didn't matter to you as long as you got your crew back. One of the retainers, Kin'emon, put a leaf on your head, and with a puff of pink smoke your outfit was changed. They assured you your jacket and mask were fine, just disguised temporarily. You now wore a yellow kimono, with a gradient that shifted the base to pink at the bottom, decorated with white and periwinkle flowers. Around your waist was a sash decorated in white and teal vertical stripes, a periwinkle peek of fabric at its top edge and a pink ribbon around the centre. Under the kimono was a matching periwinkle layer, which peeked out at the neckline, and your sleeves had been conveniently tied out of the way by white threads, in a similar style to one of the retainers, Kiku. Your mask was now disguised as a headdress, the visor now a sheer purple fabric, the earpieces now large yellow chrysanthemums, a thick white braid running over your head to connect them all. By fiddling with the petals you were able to adjust the mask, the sheer fabric changing colour with the setting, and you were impressed with the way the devil fruit power adapted to the changes.

Carrying weapons was forbidden in Wano unless you were one of Kaido's subordinates, so you stashed your katana with Law's crew, keeping your hidden knife under your dress. You didn't really need your katana anyway, you just liked to have it with you in case of seastone bullets. The retainers also gave you the cover name Mienai and a backstory as a florist in the Flower Capital, in case anyone asked questions. Did you know anything about being a florist? Not a fucking lick, but you didn't plan on getting close enough to any of the locals to need your cover story. The name was useful though, Kaido's people were no doubt keeping an eye out for you, the one rogue member of Kid's crew and a valuable potential asset. If anyone got wind of a ‘Yin' in Wano, you would have a lot more travel getting around, even with your invisibility. You weren't immune to good observation haki, and if Kaido caught wind you were here, you had no doubt he would have people with good haki guarding your crew as a trap for you.

Your plan was to sneak into the capital to begin searching for holding cells, or to try and catch some whispers of where your crew might be. Being able to make yourself invisible would no doubt be your most useful ability in Wano, and now that Dawn was taken care of you would be able to travel quickly and unhindered. Though your new shoes were taking some getting used to. Gone were your usual practical boots, replaced by sandal like shoes called geta, with black lacquered bases and pink straps, worn over white socks that had a separation to account for the shoe straps. They were awkwardly heavy, with a curve at the front that meant your toes were basically hovering over nothing, and you ate shit at least five times before you got the hang of them, or at least got the hang of using your devil fruit to manipulate the air and right yourself.

You took one last chance to breastfeed Dawn for the evening, not knowing when you would be back to the base, memorising the shape of her face and the way her soft hair fluffed up at the top of her head and the way her tiny little hands reached for things. You hated having to leave her behind, but you had to remind yourself that she was too small to remember this when she's older, but she would certainly remember being raised without her dads if you didn't find them. You didn't want that for her, you wanted her to have all the love in the world, to always be surrounded by it. And you wanted that protection for her, so she would never suffer like you had.

You ate dinner with the Law's crew - he'd been stealing food from Kaido's farms, where the crops and animals weren't poisoned by his factories. Law had already informed you that the food in the capital would be safe, so you had no need to pack significant rations, you could steal what you needed once you were there. You packed enough food to tide you over though until you got there, repurposing your duffle bag which until now mostly only held things for Dawn. Law had offered you medication to dry up your milk supply to make your mission easier, but you refused it. It felt like a betrayal to Dawn's birth mother to just give up on your milk like that, when her mother had struggled so much to keep it going. She'd had no choice when her supply dried up, but you did, and hell would freeze over before you gave up on it, especially not for a little thing like convenience. Instead, you packed your hand crank manual pump. You would have no way to preserve the milk and would have to dump it, but keeping up the draining of your breasts regularly would stop your body from thinking you no longer had a baby to feed, until your mission was complete and you could go back to how things should be. You still planned to return to this base whenever possible anyway, to see Dawn and feed her yourself whenever the opportunity arose. You also packed a hand drawn map provided by the retainers, a few bottles of safe water, and one of the local den-den, which was conical in shape. You could use it to contact Law if anything happened, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it.

The retainers told you what they could about the capital, to help you blend in once you got there. Once the sun went down you set out to begin your journey. The capital was located in the centre of the island, and you would have to pass through an area called Kibi to get there. There was a town you could stop in on the way called Okobore, where you intended to hide during the day until you could move at night again. It was safer that way, since some of the Gifters had the ability to fly, they would spot a random woman travelling through essential desert from a mile away, and you couldn't just stay invisible the whole time. By traveling at night you had the vision advantage, and would see enemies long before they saw you, allowing you to cloak yourself. Once you made it to the capital you would blend in, but until then your clothes were far to nice for those on the outskirts, you'd stick right out.

With a deep breath you took one last look at Dawn, sleeping soundly in Bepo's arms (he had taken quite a liking to her), and took the first determined step towards finding your family.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

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#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #heat one piece #heat x reader #kid pirates

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bupia · 1 year ago

Note

30, 46 with Copia please! 🙏🏻

SEX TOYS

“It’s not scary at all. Let me show you.” "Does it feels good?"

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(this is about Copia with a Transmasc!reader)

Available on AO3

Day 6 | Day 8

"So, what do you say?" Copia asked, his eyes filled with warmth.

"I... I don't know," you replied nervously, uncertainty in your voice.

"I won't pressure you if you're not comfortable, amore," he reassured you with a gentle smile.

"It's not that I don't want to," you began, hesitating. "It's just that I'd rather have you instead of... a toy."

Copia chuckled softly and leaned in, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "You're absolutely adorable. You'll have me; this is just a little... warm-up. So you can get used to it."

"I know," you pouted.

"Don't make that face, amore mio," he said, leaning in to give you a gentle peck on the lips. "So, what do you say? Are you up for it?"

You nodded, and Copia responded with a wicked grin. He reached for the toy on the bedside table next to his bed, along with a bottle of lube. He opened the bottle and poured some into his hand, applying it on the toy before reaching over to between your legs.

"I think we can get started without any more delay," he said, his voice husky with arousal. "It's not scary at all. Let me show you, amore."

You let out a soft gasp as he rubbed the slippery liquid on your entrance. "I... I think so, Papa."

He gently placed the tip of the vibrator at your entrance, and began to rub it back and forth, teasing you with its touch. You let out a soft moan as he pushed the toy inside you, and you arched your back pushing your hips toward him, but Copia pulled it out.

Copia gazed at your eyes. "How was it, caro? Troppo male o troppo bene?" he asked as he caressed your thigh gently.

"Please," you begged.

"Please what, amore?" he asked.

Copia merely smiled and he turned on the vibrator, you could hear the soft sound of it. You moaned quietly as you felt the vibrations teasing your clit.

"Please what, amore mio?" he repeated. "What do you want from your, Papa?" Copia smiled devilishly as he continued the ministrations. continuing to work the toy against your clit.

"Please put it inside," you cried out.

"Oh, now you want it inside?" Copia inquired, teasingly.

"Don't tease me, Copia," you replied. "Just fuck me."

Copia laughed, then began to push the vibrator inside of you. You moaned as he pushed it all the way into you. You could feel him moving it inside you, and you were so wet from your own arousal that the toy were sliding easily. Copia began to move the vibrator in and out of you, slowly, but soon picking up speed. It felt incredible, and you couldn't help but let out a small moan. Copia chuckled, and began to move the vibrator faster and harder, pushing it deeper and deeper inside of you.

"Oh, Satan," you moaned. "Please, C-Oh-opia, more! more!" you moaned louder, begging.

"Sì, sì, caro mio, moan for me, beg for more," he said with a grin on his lips. "Does it feels good?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Papa, more, more!" you whimpered. "Please, don't stop."

Copia lowered his face to between your legs and began to suck your clit while he pumped the vibrator inside you. You grabbed onto the sheets, your hips bucking wildly against his face.

"C-Ooh-pi-Aah!" you moaned his name in a very thin voice, arching your back. "Fuck me, Copia!"

You pushed your hips toward him, and Copia complemented, thrusting the vibrator deep inside of you and rubbing your clit with his tongue. The sensation of his tongue on your clit and the vibrator inside you were too much for you to handle, you felt your legs shaking and your body tensing up. But then, Copia stopped his ministrations, replacing the vibrator with his mouth, purring into your entrance.

"Mmm, you taste so good, caro," he whispered, lapping at your juices. "Cazzo, you taste so sweet here, mio ragazzo."

You groaned in response to his words, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. He went back to your clit with his mouth, sucking it hard into his mouth, flickering his tongue. You felt your body shudder as Copia enjoyed himself immensely between your legs. Copia released your clit from his mouth, and turned his face to your direction, locking his eyes with yours.

"Do you want me to fuck you, caro?" he whispered, darting his tongue out licking your clit, slowly. "Tell me, amore. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

"I- I want you to fuck me, Copia-Ah!" you cried out. "Please, fuck me."

"Say it again," Copia demanded.

"Please, fuck me! Fuck me!" you were practically screaming, begging for him.

"Not yet," he said, going back with the vibrator inside you.

"Oh-Ah!" your eyes widened. "T-That's not fair!"

Copia slid it in and out of you, you arched your back, pressing your hips against his hand. You wanted more, but at the same time it was too overwhelming, you could feel your mind going blank. You were bucking your hips, trying to get away from the vibrator, but Copia held you down and continued to thrust into you.

"You're not going anywhere until you cum," he said.

"If you keep go-Oh-ing like this, I- I might..."

"Molto bene, I want to see you satisfied. Cum for me, amore, give me the pleasure to make you cum," he said encouraging you.

You were so wet, and you could feel your juices running down your thighs. Copia continued his pace inside you, making you scream. Copia growled pounding the vibrator in and out of you, going as deep inside of you as he could. He pulled the vibrator almost completely out of you, allowing you to catch your breath before plunging it back in.

"Copia, I'm... I'm going to... Yes, yes, Ah-! Oh, Satan!" you gasped, your words filled with ecstasy as pleasure washed over you.

He went even harder and your body tensed. You came hard around the toy screaming his name. Copia removed the toy from inside you, lowering his face once again, lapping on your juice, drinking it, savoring it. You moaned softly as he did so, spasming with the sensation of his warm mouth against your entrance. You felt him move up your body, reaching for your lips, kissing you gently. He kissed you deeply and you kissed him back passionately, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You taste even sweeter when you cum, caro," he whispered huskily against your lips, breaking the passionate kiss as his fingers traced tantalizing patterns on your skin.

"T-Thank you..."

"Prego," he replied warmly, his lust evident in his eyes.

"I have to admit, this was really good," you said, your voice tinged with a hint of shyness.

"Indeed, it was, caro," Copia replied with a smile.

Copia lowered his body, kneeling between your legs. He grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider than before, pulling you closer to him.

"W-What are you doing, Papa?"

"Did you already forget what you said? You'd rather have me than a toy, sì?" he said with a smirk. "This was just a warm-up; we're just getting started."

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 19 days ago

Text

The Tattoo | Sebastian Sallow x OC #46

Summary: Studying for their N.E.W.Ts gets boring, and Sebastian drags Ominis and Evie along to London for an ‘outing’

Words: ~5,200

Tags: Coming of Age, Friendship, Banter, Sentimental, Not-Quite-Dating, Will They Won't They, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Unspoken Feelings, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers

Timeline: Mid May

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The air in the Undercroft was thick with the hum of concentrated magic and the faint rustle of parchment. The three of them—Evangeline, Sebastian, and Ominis—were seated around the table, the only sounds punctuating the stillness being the occasional scrape of quill against parchment or the soft muttering of incantations. It was late, far later than they should have been awake, but the impending weight of their N.E.W.T.s left little room for indulgent rest.

Evangeline shifted in her chair, absently twirling her wand between her fingers. Her notes were sprawled out in front of her, filled with neat annotations in her precise handwriting. Despite her best efforts, the words had begun to blur together, and every spell diagram seemed to mock her dwindling focus. Across from her, Ominis sat with his wand resting lightly against a sheet of parchment, his expression impassive as he methodically worked through a series of incantations.

And then there was Sebastian.

As usual, he was the picture of restless energy, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table. His quill spun lazily between his fingers, untouched parchment resting on his lap as he gazed at the ceiling, clearly miles away from the Transfiguration notes he was supposed to be writing. He hadn’t spoken in a while, his silence unusual enough to draw Evangeline’s attention. She studied him from the corner of her eye, noting the way his brow furrowed, as though he were mulling something over.

The quiet stretched, pressing against the edges of Evangeline’s patience. Finally, she set her quill down with a sigh. “Alright, out with it,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness. “Whatever’s got you so preoccupied, Sebastian, just spit it out.”

Ominis didn’t look up from his work, but his lips twitched in faint amusement. “Thank Merlin,” he muttered. “I was starting to wonder how long we’d have to endure his brooding.”

Sebastian’s head snapped down, a crooked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Brooding, was I?” he drawled, his tone feigning offense. “I prefer to call it ‘pondering.’”

“Call it whatever you like,” Evangeline replied, arching an eyebrow. “Just stop making that face and tell us what’s on your mind.”

Sebastian hesitated for only a moment before his grin widened, a glint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “I think we need a break.”

“A break?” Ominis repeated flatly, finally lifting his head. “We’ve barely scratched the surface of today’s work, and you’re already suggesting we abandon it?”

“I’m not suggesting we abandon anything,” Sebastian countered, sitting up straight and tossing his quill onto the table. “I’m suggesting we take a couple measly hours to do something fun. Something that doesn’t involve spell charts or charm theory.”

Evangeline folded her arms, skeptical. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“A quick outing,” Sebastian said breezily. “We’ll be back before anyone even notices we’re gone.”

Ominis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Merlin’s sake, Sebastian. It’s mid-May, our N.E.W.T.s are in less than a month. What could possibly justify a vague 'outing'?”

Sebastian’s grin turned secretive, his eyes darting between the two of them. “I have my reasons,” he said cryptically. “But I’m not telling you until we get there.”

“That’s reassuring,” Ominis deadpanned.

“Relax, it’ll be worth it,” he replied, leaning forward with that familiar, reckless glint in his eye—the one that always spelled trouble. “Come on, Evie. You’re not going to let Ominis talk you out of an adventure, are you?”

Evangeline hesitated, torn between the looming specter of her unfinished notes and the enticing promise of whatever scheme Sebastian was cooking up. She glanced at Ominis, who sighed heavily, clearly resigned to his role as the voice of reason.

“If I agree,” Ominis said at last, his tone begrudging, “it’s only because I know you’ll drag us along regardless.”

Sebastian clapped his hands together, triumphant. “That’s the spirit! Pack your things, then.”

Evangeline balked at him. "You want to go now?!"

Sebastian grinned as though her exclamation had been a ringing endorsement. “Of course, now! What better time than the present?”

Ominis sighed dramatically, setting his wand down with a faint clink. “Sebastian, if this is another harebrained scheme, I swear—”

“It’s not harebrained,” Sebastian interrupted, lifting a hand as though warding off the insult. “It’s well thought out. I promise. Now come on."

Sebastian turned on his heel and strode toward the exit of the Undercroft, his long strides brimming with purpose. Evangeline and Ominis exchanged a look—hers laced with resignation, his with exasperation—but neither made any move to stop him.

Evangeline sighed, shaking her head as she stood. “If this ends with us in the Hospital Wing, I'll hex you,” she called after him, her voice echoing off the walls.

“You’ll thank me later,” Sebastian shot back, his voice carrying over his shoulder. “Just trust me!”

“Famous last words,” Ominis muttered, standing reluctantly and grabbing his wand. “You realize he’s probably going to drag us halfway across the countryside for this?”

“Realize it?” Evangeline snorted, following after Sebastian. “I’m counting on it.”

The three of them emerged from the Undercroft, stepping into the cool night air of the castle’s lower corridors. The faint glow of torchlight illuminated their path, casting flickering shadows as Sebastian led them with unwavering confidence. Evangeline quickened her pace to catch up, her irritation warring with a flicker of curiosity.

Ominis followed a step behind them, his wand outstretched. “Sebastian, if this involves sneaking into the Forbidden Forest again—”

“It doesn’t,” Sebastian interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Have a little faith, Ominis.”

“I lost my faith in your plans somewhere around fifth year,” Ominis quipped, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Sebastian led them through the castle and out into the courtyard, the crisp May air carrying the scent of blooming flowers. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silvery light over the grounds, and the quiet of the evening was punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Evangeline slowed as they stepped into the open courtyard, her eyes narrowing. “Wait a minute,” she said, suspicion creeping into her tone. “Are we leaving the castle entirely?”

“You catch on quick,” Sebastian said, turning to face them with a triumphant grin.

Ominis stopped abruptly, his expression pinched. “Sebastian, no. We’re not—”

“Oh, yes, we are,” Sebastian interrupted, cutting him off with a waggle of his eyebrows. “I told you, it’s a quick trip. No big deal.”

“Are you mad?” Evangeline hissed, glancing nervously over her shoulder as though expecting a professor to materialize out of thin air. “Do you know how much trouble we’ll get in if we’re caught?”

Sebastian’s grin widened, and he stepped closer, holding out his hands to them. “Alright, grab on.”

Evangeline stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “Grab on. We’re Apparating.”

Evangeline glanced at Ominis, whose expression had shifted from annoyed to downright skeptical. "Last time you apparated us we got lost."

Sebastian’s grin didn’t waver, but a flicker of mock offense crossed his face. “That was one time,” he said, holding up a finger. “And it wasn’t even my fault! The coordinates were off.”

Ominis folded his arms, his expression unimpressed. “You mean you were off.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, looking to Evangeline for support. “Evie, back me up here. It wasn’t that bad.”

Evangeline arched a brow, recalling the harrowing ordeal of wandering through a bog after Sebastian’s “perfect shortcut” landed them somewhere decidedly not Keenbridge. “We had to fend off dugbogs for an hour, Sebastian. An hour.”

“Details,” Sebastian replied, waving her words away as though they were irrelevant. “This time will be different. I promise.”

Ominis groaned, rubbing his temples as though preparing for a migraine. “Merlin help me, I’m doing this under protest.”

“Duly noted,” Sebastian said cheerfully. He stepped closer, holding his hands out once again. “Come on.”

Evangeline sighed, her stomach tightening with nerves. “If we end up in another swamp…”

“You won’t,” Sebastian interjected quickly, flashing her an encouraging smile. “Trust me.”

She hesitated for a moment longer before finally giving in, her fingers curling around his. The warmth of his hand was steadying, even as she braced herself for whatever chaos might follow.

Ominis grudgingly did the same, his fingers tightening on Sebastian’s other hand with a grip that seemed to say, If we die, it’s your fault.

“Alright,” Sebastian said, his voice brimming with excitement. “Hold on tight. And try not to scream this time, Ominis.”

“I didn’t scream,” Ominis snapped, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Evangeline smirked, the memory of Ominis’s startled yelp during their last Apparition attempt making it difficult to suppress a laugh. Before she could tease him, the familiar, gut-twisting sensation of Apparition took hold.

The world spun violently, pulling her in every direction at once. The air compressed and stretched around them, her stomach churning as the rushing sensation built to a crescendo. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped.

They landed with a jarring thud, their feet hitting solid ground. Evangeline stumbled, instinctively clutching Sebastian’s arm to steady herself as the world slowly came back into focus.

They were in London.

The city buzzed with life around them, the streets lit by glowing streetlamps and shop windows. The distant rumble of a passing carriage mingled with the clatter of footsteps and the hum of conversations, creating a symphony of urban chaos.

“See?” Sebastian said, spreading his arms dramatically as if to say I told you so. “Perfect landing.”

Ominis straightened, his grip on his wand tightening as he sniffed the air. “At least it doesn’t smell like swamp this time.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face as she took in their surroundings. “Alright, we’re here. Now, are you going to tell us what this is all about?”

Sebastian grinned, his excitement bubbling over as he pointed toward a small shop. “We’re going there.”

Evangeline followed his gaze, her brow furrowing as she read the sign above the entrance: Enchanted Ink—Specialists in Magical Tattoos.

Her eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

Sebastian’s grin only widened, a mischievous glint in his eye as he shook his head. “Not at all. Dead serious.”

Ominis let out a long, exasperated sigh, his hand running through his hair in a gesture of disbelief. “Of course you’re serious. Why wouldn’t you be? Mid-May, N.E.W.T.s on the horizon, and you decide now is the perfect time for a tattoo.”

“Exactly!” Sebastian replied, as if Ominis had just proven his point. “It’s symbolic. A mark of everything we’ve been through.”

Ominis let out a soft, exasperated groan, running a hand down his face. “You truly have lost your mind. What on earth possessed you to think this was a good idea?”

“Because it is a good idea,” Sebastian said confidently, turning to face them both. “Look, we’re at the end of an era here. Our time at Hogwarts is almost up. This—” he gestured to the tattoo shop, “—this is my way of leaving a mark.."

Evangeline tilted her head, her skepticism softening slightly at his earnest tone. “And you’re sure this isn’t just an excuse for you to do something reckless?”

Sebastian smirked, though his eyes held a flicker of vulnerability that made her pause. “It’s not reckless if it means something.”

For a moment, Evangeline was silent, her gaze shifting between him and the sign above the shop door. There was a sincerity in his words that she couldn’t ignore—a quiet determination that hinted at something deeper than just a spur-of-the-moment whim.

Ominis, however, was far less moved. “If you think I’m standing by while someone needles magical ink into your skin, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You’re not standing by,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. “You’re coming in. Moral support and all that.”

Ominis crossed his arms, his expression unimpressed. “Absolutely not.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, turning to Evangeline. “Evie, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

Evangeline bit back a smile. “He’s not wrong to be concerned. Tattoos are—well, they’re permanent, Sebastian. You’d better be sure about this.”

“I am,” Sebastian said, his voice firm. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. And I’ve already got the design in mind."

Evangeline’s skepticism wavered further, her curiosity getting the better of her. “What kind of design?”

"You'll see," Sebastian replied, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door. "Come on."

The bell above the door chimed softly as Sebastian pushed it open, the warm, slightly smoky interior of the tattoo shop greeting them. The walls were adorned with mesmerizing sketches of magical tattoos—designs that shimmered faintly, some enchanted to move and shift. A lion roared silently from one frame, its mane swirling like flames, while a constellation in another sketch blinked softly, stars winking in and out of existence.

Evangeline hesitated in the doorway, her eyes widening as she took in the intricate art. The air carried the faint scent of ink and something else—magic, raw and buzzing with potential. Ominis lingered behind her, his wand held lightly in one hand as though gauging the space.

“Welcome to Enchanted Ink,” a voice called out from behind the counter. A tall witch with striking auburn hair tied into a messy bun stepped forward, her arms covered in tattoos that seemed to ripple as she moved. She raised an eyebrow at the three of them, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “What can I do for you lot? One tattoo? Two? Or are we going for a group special?”

Sebastian grinned, stepping up to the counter with the confidence of someone who had just found his true calling. “Just one for now. I’ve got a design in mind.”

The witch leaned on the counter, her gaze flicking between him, Evangeline, and Ominis with amused curiosity. “What’s the occasion?"

“It’s a… commemoration, I suppose." Sebastian replied, his tone easy but with an underlying sincerity that Evangeline couldn't miss.

The witch tilted her head, studying him for a moment before nodding approvingly. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got in mind.”

Sebastian reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. As he handed it over, Evangeline moved closer, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. She blinked at the design, her surprise evident as she stepped closer for a better look. It was botanical in nature, with branches gracefully intertwined, their delicate leaves drawn with careful precision. It was not at all what she had expected from Sebastian.

The witch’s eyes lit up as she examined it. “Very nice, I can definitely work with that. Where are we putting it?”

Sebastian relaxed slightly at her easy response, his confidence returning. “I was thinking along my arm and shoulder."

The witch nodded, studying him thoughtfully. “Good choice. It’ll flow nicely there,” She glanced at Ominis and Evangeline. “What about you two? Getting matching ones?”

Evangeline startled slightly, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, no, I—”

“Absolutely not,” Ominis interrupted, his tone flat. “Someone has to stay sensible.”

The witch smirked. “Suit yourselves. Alright, let’s get started.”

She gestured for Sebastian to follow her toward a reclining chair in the corner, her wand flicking to summon the necessary supplies. As Sebastian pulled off his outer robe and rolled up his sleeve, Evangeline lingered nearby, her eyes flicking back to the sketch on the counter.

“Does it hurt much?” she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

The witch, now preparing the ink and enchanted needle, glanced up with a grin. “It’s not painless, but it’s nothing unbearable."

Evangeline hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting to Sebastian, who had already settled into the chair with an air of casual confidence, though she could see the faintest tension in his shoulders—the giveaway that he was bracing himself.

Ominis stood a few paces behind her, his expression a blend of disapproval and reluctant curiosity. “You do realize,” he said dryly, “that you’ll have to live with this for the rest of your life. No charms to undo it, no simple transfiguration. It’s permanent, Sebastian.”

“That’s the point,” Sebastian replied without missing a beat.

The tattoo artist waved her wand, and the her refined version of the sketch floated into the air, its enchanted lines shimmering faintly as they overlaid themselves on Sebastian’s arm. She tapped the air with her wand, adjusting the placement until Sebastian nodded in approval.

Then, the artist began her work, the enchanted needle moving deftly under her guidance. A faint, rhythmic hum filled the air, punctuated by the occasional buzz of magic as the ink bonded with Sebastian’s skin. He winced once, his jaw tightening for a moment before he relaxed again.

Evangeline leaned against the counter, watching with growing fascination. The design was taking shape, the lines and shading giving it an almost lifelike quality. Each leaf seemed to glow faintly with its own unique shimmer, the magic within it alive and shifting subtly as the branches intertwined.

“Wow,” she said softly, unable to keep the awe from her voice. “It’s beautiful.”

Sebastian glanced at her, his grin soft, touched with vulnerability. "You like it?"

Evangeline tilted her head, her gaze shifting between the intricate design and Sebastian’s face. “I do,” she said softly. “It’s… certainly not what I expected."

Sebastian chuckled, wincing slightly as the needle buzzed over a particularly sensitive spot. “What, did you think I’d get something ridiculous? A dragon breathing fire?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” she replied with a smirk. But her expression softened quickly as she gestured toward his arm. “What does it mean? The branches, the leaves…"

Sebastian’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second, and he glanced away, pretending to focus on the witch adjusting her tools. “It’s just… a reminder, I guess,” he said, his voice light but not quite convincing. “About roots and growth. The people who’ve kept me grounded. Who’ve helped me grow, despite everything.”

Evangeline blinked, her chest tightening unexpectedly. She looked at the leaves, her mind suddenly piecing together the meaning he was trying so hard to downplay. “Silver lime,” she murmured, tracing the delicate lines of the leaves with her eyes. “And elm.”

Sebastian nodded, his grin returning but softer now. “Yeah. Thought it was fitting.”

Her throat tightened as she processed his words, and she had to glance away for a moment to gather herself. When she looked back, her voice was quieter, more earnest. “Sebastian… that’s—”

“Don’t make a thing of it,” he interrupted, and shot her a crooked grin, his usual charm flickering back into place.

Evangeline’s lips parted, but the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. The weight of his gesture—of what it truly meant—wasn’t something she could brush off as easily as he did. Her gaze lingered on the design taking shape on his arm, the branches curling together in intricate patterns. Silver lime for her wand. Elm for Ominis's. The two people who had stayed by his side through everything. The thought made her chest ache with an almost unbearable mixture of gratitude and affection.

After some time, the tattoo artist leaned back, her wand flicking over Sebastian’s arm as she muttered a final incantation. A soft shimmer of magic passed over the fresh ink, sealing it with a protective charm. The branches and leaves gleamed faintly in the light, vibrant against the warm tones of his skin. “All done,” the artist said with a satisfied nod, stepping aside to let Sebastian admire her work. “Take a look.”

Sebastian stood, rolling his shoulder as he turned to the mirror. His arm tilted slightly, the tattoo catching the light with its intricate detailing. The branches, woven seamlessly with delicate leaves, seemed almost alive, as if swaying in an unseen breeze. The design complemented him in a way that felt undeniable, the ink enhancing rather than covering the faint freckles scattered across his skin. It was as if the tattoo had always been meant for him, a part of him waiting to be revealed.

“It’s perfect,” he said softly, the words almost an exhale as he traced the edge of the tattoo with his fingers, the awe in his voice impossible to miss.

Evangeline couldn’t take her eyes off him, her eyes lingering on the design, tracing every line, every leaf with careful reverence. “It really is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The tattoo was beautiful—there was no denying that. But it wasn’t just the art that caught her breath. Somehow, the sight of it on Sebastian—on him—made him impossibly more attractive. Her fingers itched to reach out, to trace the lines of the tattoo herself, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath the ink. Somehow, it felt like the tattoo had made him more himself, like the balance of strength and vulnerability in the design had drawn out the same qualities in him. Because it wasn't just a design, it was a story... his story.

Sebastian caught her reflection in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Told you it wasn’t a bad idea.”

She hummed in agreement, though her mind was already drifting elsewhere. The thought had crept in unbidden—a flicker of curiosity, a spark of possibility. Her gaze flicked to her own wrist, bare and pale, and she wondered… what would her story look like?

Her life had been a patchwork of beginnings and endings, each one stitched together with uncertainty and change. Growing up in the orphanage, she had lived every day in a state of waiting—waiting for answers, waiting for belonging, waiting for something more.

And then, at fifteen, everything changed.

Hogwarts had been a whirlwind, sweeping her into a life she’d never imagined, a world she hadn’t known she could belong to. Magic had opened doors she hadn’t known existed, but it wasn’t the magic itself that had made her life rich. It was the people.

Sebastian and Ominis had been constants from the very beginning. They had embraced her when she was wide-eyed and overwhelmed, navigating a maze of spells and traditions she barely understood. They had been there through everything—the good, the bad, the unspeakable. They were the family she’d never had, the threads that held her patchwork life together.

Her fingers brushed over her wrist, the idea taking shape in her mind.

“What if I got one too?”

The room fell silent. Ominis, who had been leaning casually against the doorframe with a skeptical expression, straightened immediately. “You’re joking,” he said flatly, his tone caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation.

Sebastian turned away from the mirror, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Really?”

She hesitated, suddenly aware of their attention on her, but the spark of determination refused to fade. She crossed her arms, her chin tilting slightly. “Why not? If you can leave a mark for what matters, why can’t I?”

Sebastian’s surprise softened into something warmer, and he stepped closer, his curiosity clear. “What would you get?”

Evangeline bit her lip. “Would you mind if… mine matched yours? Not exactly the same, but similar. Cedar for you,” she said, her hazel eyes flicking to Sebastian, her tone soft yet meaningful. Then, turning to Ominis, who looked thoroughly unimpressed but still curious despite himself, she added, “And elm, for you.”

Sebastian blinked, momentarily caught off guard. A grin slowly spread across his face, warm and unguarded. “You’d do that?”

“Why not?” she replied, her lips curving into a small, shy smile.

Ominis, who had been standing with his arms crossed, let out a faint scoff, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in reluctant amusement. “You’re both hopeless romantics, you realize that?”

“Hopeless?” Sebastian shot back, his grin turning sly. “Or perfectly sentimental?”

“Hopeless,” Ominis deadpanned, though the faintest hint of fondness lingered in his voice.

Evangeline laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned to the tattoo artist. “Is that alright? Something similar to his design, but... smaller, more simple. With cedar and elm?”

The artist, who had been watching the exchange with a bemused smile, nodded. “Of course. Let me sketch something out for you.”

She set to work, her wand tracing delicate lines over a fresh sheet of parchment. Meanwhile, Sebastian moved to stand beside Evangeline, his gaze flicking between her and the emerging design. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said softly, his tone unusually serious. “It’s... permanent.”

Evangeline turned her head to meet his eyes, a small, determined smile on her lips. “That’s the point,” she replied, echoing his earlier words with a teasing lift of her brow. “Some things are worth remembering."

Ominis let out a low groan, the kind that only came from years of being the unwilling observer of their antics. “You know,” he drawled, his voice dripping with dry humor, “if you two are so intent on making this a permanent declaration, why not just get each other’s names tattooed across your foreheads? That way, there’s never any mistaking or forgetting who the tattoos are about.”

Evangeline blinked, then let out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. It’s not like that.”

Sebastian, smirked and gestured toward the parchment where the artist was working. "Last I checked, you were just as represented in this as I am, Ominis. Or did you forget your wand is made of elm?"

The tattoo artist cleared her throat gently, a small smile playing on her face as she set the completed sketch in front of Evangeline. “Here it is. What do you think?”

Evangeline studied the parchment closely, her fingers hovering just above its edge. The design was deceptively simple—a single branch, its offshoots bearing both elm leaves and cedar needles. The two were distinct yet harmonious, intertwined in a way that suggested unity without losing their individuality.

“It’s perfect,” she said softly. Her hazel eyes flicked up to the tattoo artist. “You captured it beautifully.”

The artist smiled warmly. “I’m glad you like it. The contrast between the leaves will stand out nicely. Ready to make it official?"

Evangeline nodded, a steady resolve in her expression as she stepped forward and settled into the chair. Meanwhile, the artist adjusted the tools, muttering a soft incantation to ensure precision. Sebastian leaned casually against the counter, his arms crossed, though his gaze was anything but indifferent. He watched her closely, the faint smile on his lips betraying his curiosity and pride.

“You’re really doing this,” he said, a touch of admiration in his voice.

Evangeline glanced at him, her smile unwavering. “I am."

Sebastian’s grin widened, though there was a warmth in his eyes that made her stomach flutter. “Well,” he said lightly, “I hope yours turns out as good as mine. Wouldn’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t,” she said simply.

As the first cool touch of the needle against her skin, Evangeline’s breath hitched, but she quickly relaxed, letting the soft rhythm of the artist’s work settle her nerves. She focused on the weight of the moment—what this meant to her, what it represented.

Sebastian leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but teasing. “Not too painful, is it?”

She turned her head just enough to shoot him a playful glare. “I’m tougher than I look, remember?”

Sebastian chuckled, the sound warm and low. “Oh, I remember.”

Ominis, not one to miss an opportunity, chimed in with dry amusement. “Let’s see if that toughness holds when the charm wears off. No amount of sentimentality will dull the sting of regret tomorrow morning.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though her smile never wavered. “Thank you for your unwavering support, Ominis."

Minutes passed in easy, playful banter, but when the tattoo artist leaned back and murmured a final incantation, the room grew quieter. She smiled at her work, the protective charm shimmering briefly before fading. “All done,” she said warmly. “Take a look.”

Evangeline sat up slowly, her gaze falling to her wrist, and her breath caught. The design was everything she had imagined and more. The lines were crisp and elegant, the magic within the tattoo added an almost ethereal quality. As she turned her wrist, the leaves seemed to sway gently, bringing the design to life in a subtle, mesmerizing way.

“Wow…” she murmured, her voice filled with quiet awe. “It’s stunning. Thank you.” She glanced up at the tattoo artist, her smile wide and genuine.

The artist smiled back, clearly pleased with the reaction. “You’re welcome. It suits you."

Ominis let out a dramatic sigh, his arms still crossed but his tone tinged with reluctant amusement. “Well, congratulations, Evangeline. You’ve officially joined the ranks of the permanently sentimental.”

Sebastian snorted at Ominis’ dramatic tone, his grin widening. “Don’t be so bitter, Ominis. If anything, you should be proud.”

Ominis raised a brow, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smirk. Proud? I've been immortalized as a tree. Truly, my legacy knows no bounds.”

Evangeline laughed, glancing at him as she slid out of the chair. "You should just be happy you were immortalized at all."

Sebastian chuckled, reaching into his pocket to pay for both tattoos, ignoring Evangeline’s protest as she fished for her own coins. “Don’t start,” he said with a grin, holding up a hand to stop her. “Consider it my contribution to this little moment of solidarity.”

“Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he interrupted, his grin softening into something warmer. “But I want to.”

Evangeline hesitated, then relented with a small, grateful smile. “Thank you."

The tattoo artist handed them both a small vial of salve. “Apply this once a day for the first week,” she instructed. “It’ll keep the enchantment strong and prevent irritation. Enjoy your tattoos.”

Sebastian pocketed his vial with a nod. “Will do. Thanks again.”

As the three of them made their way out of the shop, the cool evening air greeted them. Ominis, ever the pragmatic one, let out a sigh of relief. “Now that this grand adventure is over, perhaps we can finally get back to the castle and finish studying. You know, the reason we’re still awake at this hour?”

Sebastian smirked, nudging Ominis lightly with his elbow. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little impressed.”

Ominis tilted his head toward Sebastian, his sightless gaze sharp despite the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Impressed that you managed to sit still long enough to get a tattoo? I’ll admit, it’s an achievement.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t falter.

They walked a few more steps before Ominis stopped, turning toward Evangeline. “Let me see it,” he said simply, extending a hand.

Evangeline blinked, surprised, but she held out her wrist. Ominis ran his thumb gently over the design, his touch deliberate and careful. The enchanted leaves shifted slightly under his touch, and his expression softened, though he quickly masked it. “Elegant but unassuming,” he said quietly, almost begrudgingly. “I suppose it’s… fitting.”

Evangeline smiled, warmth spreading in her chest at the rare, genuine compliment. “Thanks, Ominis.”

Sebastian grinned, crossing his arms. “See? He likes it. He just won’t admit it.”

Ominis straightened, his familiar exasperated expression returning. “I said it was fitting, not that I like it. Let’s not get carried away.”

Evangeline laughed softly, shaking her head as they continued walking. The warmth of the moment lingered as they reached for Sebastian's hands to apparate back to the castle. Ominis may have protested, but the way he had traced the design on her wrist said more than his words ever could.

And as Evangeline glanced at Sebastian, catching the way his grin softened when his eyes met hers, she knew this was a memory she’d carry with her—not just on her skin, but in her heart.

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raccoonfallsharder · 1 day ago

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2024 in review ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

well, it's been a long and difficult year lol. i got less writing done than i wanted ~ but still managed to meet most some of my writing goals for the year!

fandom moves so fast these days. i feel like i've watched so many people come and go since summer 2023! and i've been so lucky to connect with the folks that have stuck around as well. for those of you wondering, please rest assured that as long as i can keep my writing motivation up, i'll still be here in the rocket raccoon fandom (i already have plans for all of 2025 loosely lined up)!~

altogether, we have:

46 WORKS in my ao3 library ✮ | ✩ | ❤︎‬ | ❤︎‬❤︎ ~ 20+ since Jan 2024

20+ HEADCANONS & 20+ IMAGINES on tumblr ✮ | ✩ ~ 10+ headcanons since Jan 2024 ~ 10+ imagines since Jan 2024

19 "TAKE WHAT YOU NEED" ONESHOTS, written at your request. ✮ ~ 11 since Jan 2024

a new separation of the main masterlist into SFW , NSFW, and collections masterlists, and the addition of the art masterlist.

here's the highlight-reel!~

The Finished Longform (February 2024): i completed Window Across the Galaxy at twenty-seven chapters and 235,940 words. so far it continues to be my favorite thing i've ever written. (i recently made a lil moodboard for it, too!) ♡

Window Across the Galaxy. ❤︎‬❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | rocket x f!oc | 27/27 chapters | word count: 235,940. girl falls first; raccoon falls harder. rocket is captured by a ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a xandaran luxury liner. oops. see post for warnings & context.

Everyone's Fave Oneshot (August 2024): i was threatening to write overheard on the bowie for like a hundred years before it finally came out. in terms of kudos, it's right up there with adorations and Outer Space Safety & Spaceship Maintenance Training.

overheard on the bowie ❤︎‬❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | f!reader | word count: 12,973. rocket laments building the bowie with such thin walls between bunks. ie, you haven’t been able to get off in a while, and your neighbor knows it. see post for warnings.

Everyone's Fave Midlengths (July and October 2024): triple-shots are always the hardest, but it was SO much fun to write both of these.

windfall. (a meetgroot) ❤︎‬❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | f!reader | 3/3 parts | word count: 44,521. semi-shy ultrafeminine touch-deprived reader tries to avoid meeting knowhere’s intimidating captain. is profoundly unsuccessful. see post for warnings & context. sunshine. ❤︎‬❤︎ 18+ only | no use of y/n | f!reader | 4/4 parts | word count: 37,320. you take a stranger home for a night of celebration. why not? after all, it’s not like there will be any longterm ramifications. see post for warnings & context.

My Personal Fave (November 2024): i had this idea rattling around in my head for like a year and kinktober seemed like the right time to write it!

you are cordially invited. ❤︎‬❤︎18+ only | no use of y/n | f!reader | 2/2 parts | word count: 38,775. you'd do anything for enough money to care for your ailing mother — including agreeing to a night working for the collector. too bad you weren't more prepared to be part of the entertainment.

other notables from 2024~

Fave Smut Scenes (From Longer Works): Chapter 5/6 Year Four: Formation of florescence❀ ❤︎‬❤︎ (September 2024)

everything blossoms. WARNINGS: dirty talk, seduction, striptease, fellatio, praise to the nth power, body worship, nervous rocket, implied dom rocket, dirty talk, mentions of sex toys and anal play and tit-fucking and The Tail, (accidental?) sensation play/marking with claws, use of "slut" (affectionate), mentions of creative positions, aftercare, outdoor sex, lots of feelings. a near break-up.

chapter sixteen. craxis. of cicatrix. ❤︎‬❤︎ (July 2024)

pearl considers the problem of sovereign. WARNINGS: smutty-smut while rocket wears his cute lil goggles. cockwarming. dirty-talk. praise. mentions of gagging and one light spank. use of “slut”/”whore” (affectionate). aftercare.

chapter twenty-two. falesia. of cicatrix. ❤︎‬❤︎ (September 2024)

pearl is punished. WARNINGS: continued trauma-related anxiety & general insecurity. smutty-smut with a safeword discussion, d/s vibes, “punishment” (affectionate), nipple play (discussion of clamps), and orgasm control/delay. followed by soft romantic sex with a tiny bit of overstim, && tons of dirty talk as per frickin’ usual.

Fave One-Shots:

cold hands, warm thighs. ✩ (November 2024) spice | gn reader | word count: 5,122. the best thing about landing on cold planets is the warming-up part afterward.for @/leresq. see post for warnings. bite. ✩ (March 2024) low-grade spice & fluff | gn reader | word count: 2,266. you run into a familiar stranger at your place of work and end up flirting madly. or, a raccoon walks into a bar. machinery. ✩ (March 2024) semi-romantic angst & fluff | gn reader | word count: 1,946. rocket manipulates you into stealing something for him. what wouldn't you do for a pair of pretty almandine eyes? see post for warnings.

evasive maneuvers ❤︎‬❤︎ (October 2024) ~ ok, ok, this one is a double-shot! 18+ only | no use of y/n | f!reader | 2/2 parts | word count: 15,595. rocket promises you an abundance of rewards in return for your assistance brushing up on some of his old résumé skills. an expansion on day 9 of kinktober 2023.

Most Words Written (March 2023 - ongoing): i don't know if this one will live up to Window Across the Galaxy in terms of quality (though i am really loving it so far) but we have already exceeded window's wordcount. also, please check out the masterlist for the amazing, beautiful fan art that this fic has been gifted. the generous creativity of people reading this story has truly been one of the highlights of my 2024.

cicatrix.❤︎‬❤︎ 18+ only MDNI | rocket x f!oc | 26/40+ | word count: 272,062+. [WIP] a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs. see post for warnings & context.

what's next?~

You can find all of my 2025 aspirations described with a little more detail in the longterm projects posts, but here's the rundown!

january

borealis: year two. kiss me at midnight. ❤︎❤︎

take what you need. 20 & 21. ✮

borealis: year two. abominable. ❤︎❤︎

february

take what you need. 22. ✮

florescence❀. chapter six year five: dispersal. ❤︎❤︎ FINALE.

cicatrix. chapter twenty-seven. la gaudière. ✩

march

defiance. oneshot. ✮✩