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juuuulez · 8 months

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📰 | part two: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.

summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.

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I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!

Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.

A few days later, and you’re back.

The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.

Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.

Well, you felt a little bad last night.

The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.

It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.

At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.

That’s how you saw it.

You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.

You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.

Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.

You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.

Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.

Or mostly handled.

“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.

He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.

“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”

The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.

You could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”

There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.

Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.

And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.

Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.

A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.

“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.

He doesn’t answer.

You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.

But it works.

“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.

You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”

This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.

“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”

You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”

It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”

You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.

He wants to be in charge.

Luckily, you love to be petty.

As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.

“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”

Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”

You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.

“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.

It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.

“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.

“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”

This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.

“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.

Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”

It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”

“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.

The fuck does he know?

You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.

“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”

This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”

It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.

You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.

But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.

“The hell are you doin’, girl?”

Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.

“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.

It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”

And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.

To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”

You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.

Next time you’ll get him.

#twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #negan smith #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #twd x you #negan smith x reader

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pagannatural · 2 months

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1.21 Salvation

-John finally, after some 22 years, lets his sons in on his plans and shows them everything he’s got on the demon that killed their mom and Jess.

-John is such a good character. I’m not really interested in liking or disliking him, I just love his part in this story. He reacted to an unimaginable situation in a human way. Who among us can say, really, how we would parent two small children if our wife was brutally murdered on the ceiling by a demon who then burned down our entire house? John truly thought the whole world was a war zone so he made his kids soldiers rather than getting them to safety. To understand John you have to understand that Safe and Normal as concepts were destroyed for him. He wanted to protect his boys so badly that he tried to prepare them and toughen them and train them but he also wanted to shield them so he hid as much as he could from them. He taught them that people were dying and they were responsible for stopping it. He put all of that on their way-too-young shoulders all while refusing to trust them or let them in.

Under all that pressure, Sam and Dean created their own world, their bubble of safety with each other. They give each what they need in the most vital and fundamental sense, nourishing each other in a hostile environment. They share something that no one else could ever understand.

So thanks, John.

-“It’s not your problem, it’s our problem” is an objectively kind and supportive thing to say so I’m proud of Dean for managing to shout it angrily at Sam. Such passion such energy

-Sam looks like a little kid this whole scene where Dean and John are arguing about parenting him. Dean stands up to John again and defends himself. He’s Sam’s daddy now (sorry)

-John tells Sam “I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home” which is hilarious to me because it implies that he thinks of Dean as a homeless man (which he is).

Dean glances at Sam when John says this and then hangs his head. Sam is his home. And he feels responsible for Sam leaving school (which he is).

-In the car Sam tells Dean “I want to thank you” but the you comes out as “ya”. This happens another time when Sam tells Dean “I still love you” (or something close to that) in s5e11. It’s unusual for Sam. He doesn’t ya his you’s regularly at the end of a sentence. Jared and Jensen both have typical midwestern accents on the show. Jared intentionally changes his speech pattern when he’s possessed, so that words like “wasn’t” or “doesn’t” are enunciated when normally Sam pronounces it like “wud’n” or “dud’n” with a very soft “d.”

Point being, something is causing Sam to shy off of saying these things and making them sound too serious so he says “I want to thank ya” which sounds more casual. When he’s lost in emotion (like later when he throws Dean against a wall and says “don’t you say that”), he enunciates his you’s. I think this is unintentional of Sam and intentional of Jared. Sam’s trying not to scare Dean off or sound too confessional- he’s seen how Dean reacts to that.

-Sam says “even when I couldn’t count on anyone”

Dean gave him consistency and safety and the knowledge that he was always loved. Dean’s his sanctuary.

-Dean says the house is “burning to the ground, it’s suicide”

“I don’t care” “I do”

Sam is reckless. He has a safe place to land, so he often acts without really thinking through the consequences, and Dean is always there for him. This is the THIRD house fire Dean has protected Sam from. Interesting that Sam asked Jessica, his Dean replacement, “what would I do without you?” in ep1 and she said “crash and burn.” Actually that’s what you would do without Dean :)

-Sam says killing the demon is “all we’ve ever cared about” he doesn’t realize that Dean has always cared more about him than about revenge or justice or whatever else. Dean would rather have Sam. Wild that Sam doesn’t know he’s Dean’s top priority yet. I wonder if he knew that pre-Stanford?

-Sam gets angry when Dean says they can’t bring Jessica or their mom back. It mirrors Dean slamming Sam against the wall in ep1 when he told Dean their mom is never coming back. Sam’s anger melts as soon as Dean speaks and he ends up just kind of grasping Dean’s shirt and pressing into him with this desperate look on his face. They look at each other’s mouths.

-Dean is accepting of Sam grabbing him and throwing him against a wall, just like Sam handles it in s2 when Dean punches him in the face. They have no normal way to express how intensely they feel about each other so it comes out as violence or care when one is injured. Love and need and pain are inextricable between them- they love each other in ways that are painful. So they just submit to each other like Yes, finally something that feels strong enough. It’s like it’s soothing to express and receive each other’s needs, even as pain. It has to come out somehow.

-Dean says that the three of them are all he has and “sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together” Dean doesn’t let himself fall apart, and he wants to fall apart with Sam here, begging Sam to be careful with his life, to understand that he needs Sam. He’s saying Please don’t get hurt, I need you, I’m falling apart.

Sam could kiss him right now. Dean’s not holding it together enough to try pushing Sam away or protecting him from their feelings.

-Dean says “without you and dad, I-” and I think that Dean obviously loves and cares about John but the real issue is that he couldn’t say “without you, I-” on network television because they would have just made out. The mention of their dad brings Sam back to himself. He turns away from Dean and lets go of him with what looks like some effort. Dean looks lost and he’s also still tilting his head up with his lips parted looking like Sam didn’t kiss him. Sam asks him to call John.

-This parallels when Dean told Sam to call Sarah in 1x19. Dean calls even though he’s still emotionally involved in the conversation with Sam and didn’t finish what he was saying. He’s just admitted something that was difficult for him, and Sam reacted by pulling away, distancing himself, exactly as Dean did when Sam admitted Jessica isn’t the main reason he’s not interested in anyone.

I’m a John-would-kill-Dean truther if he found out about anything untoward going on between his boys, so the mention of their Dad and the fact that he’s in danger would absolutely make Sam force himself away from Dean.

This specific dynamic of Sam pleading with Dean for something and Dean surrendering brokenly to Sam in a Please give it to me Please just take it loop where neither is willing to act makes me want to chew on my own ribcage.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #spn 1x21

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Welcome to Jujutsu High:

Teaching Assistant YN

Various JJK characters including Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Sukuna, Kento Nanami, etc. x Female! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, Gojo abandoning the youths, death mentioned

A/N: just me, switching it up to JJK 🙃 ignoring all my responsibilities and problems 😀

Congrats YN, you’ve been accepted to Tokyo’s Jujutsu High as a teaching assistant for this upcoming year!

You couldn’t be more excited for this new opportunity

You worked your butt off to get where you are and we have nothing but respect for you 🥰

You use cursed tools to help aid your already sharp ability to see curses

And now, you’re going to help train the brightest and strongest upcoming sorcerers

Wait- did I say brightest? Yeah maybe I should have held off on that one-

Anyways, it’s the first day and you are excited to see which teacher you will be paired up with

As you approach the list in the teachers lounge, someone comes up to you

“Hey are you Yn?”

You 👉🏻 yep that’s me 😁

Them 👉🏻 *laying their hand on your shoulder, head hanging low*

“I’m so sorry, thoughts and prayers to you during this difficult time,” they say before sighing and walking away

You 👉🏻 👁️👄👁️ huh-

You silently approach the board as you now see swarms of people watching you

You find your name, tracing it across the board to see your assigned class

You 👉🏻😐 shit…

Too bad you have no time to let the fact sink in because the lead teacher of your class bursts through the door at that very moment

“Ahhh there is my bright teachers assistant,” Satoru Gojo says

You 👉🏻 *quickly double and triple checking your name, possibly pulling our your birth certificate to make sure that you, in fact, are Yn*

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say as Gojo frolics to your side

Gojo on his way to greet you 👇🏻

“Awe my precious YN aren’t you so lucky to get to work with me,” Gojo 😍

You 👉🏻 sooooo lucky 😐

“It’s going to be so much fun!! But first I’m off for some business so I’ll entrust the education of our young students to you my darling YN,” Gojo says before walking away

“The hell you will! Get back here right now!” You say chasing after him

Too bad he’s like the bestest sorcerer YN

“You have got to be kidding me,” you say as Ijichi approaches

“Hello Yn, I was instructed to take you to the students,” he says as you roll your eyes

“Alright let’s get this over with,” you say, following him

When you arrive, you see three very different teens standing in front of you

One you already know as Megumi

The other two, well…

“I can’t believe Gojo just up and abandoned us again!” The girl known as Nobara shouts

“Honestly, this has to be against the law right? Just to leave children alone without an adult??” The pink haired vessel of Sukuna, Itadori, shouts

“Gojo has important things to do and we can handle ourselves,” Megumi interrupts

“Not entirely sure ‘important things’ is the right word but he definitely has things to do,” you say walking up to the trio, “but that’s why I’m here! I’m YN, a grade 1 sorcerer and your new teachers assistant.”

The reactions are mixed

Megumi 👉🏻😐😒 whatever-

Nobara 👉🏻 🤨😑

Itadori 👉🏻😍🥹🕺🏼🤸‍♀️

Alrighty then…

Well let’s get on with it

You spend a lot of your time training the teens to be excellent sorcerers, trying your best to support them in their own ways

Honestly Nobara and Megumi don’t really need much

And Yuji, well Yuji needs emotional support YN

I mean, being Sukuna’s Vessel is very taxing

Plus, he like kinda died so there’s that 😅

So you often spend tome reassuring your student and helping him to adapt to his roll

“Yuji you are so strong for taking this on, I mean not everyone would willingly swallow a thousand year old cursed finger,” you grimace 😬

“Don’t know if that makes me strong or stupid Yn…” Yuji says when an annoying, agitating voice sounds

“Hey brat! You should feel honored to be my vessel and as soon as I manage to take over this body, I’m going to take over the world!” Sukuna laughs as you glare

“Yuji will not allow that and neither will I,” you say

“Well well well and who do we have here,” Sukuna says, smirking out of Yuji’s left cheek, “you, my dear, are absolutely stunning.”

“Sukuna knock it off! YN is my teacher!” Yuji says as you glare at the one eye of Sukuna

“So? What is she to me? I mean besides a potential mate,” he chuckles as you hand goes up, slapping Sukuna

He goes flying as soon as your hand connects with his cheek

Unfortunately Sukuna is in Yuji’s Body… so like…

“OH MY GOD YUJI IM SO SORRY!” You say, helping Yuji off the floor

“Oh it’s no problem Yn!” Yuji says :D

Seriously freaking Himbo energy I can’t 🥹

When our lord and savior, Nanami, shows up to help Yuji with his training, you drool welcome him with open arms

“Hello Yn, always a pleasure,” Nanami say

You 👉🏻🥵🥵🥵

Too bad Yuji is there-

“YN are you drooling?” Yuji asks as you quickly punch him in the face sending him flying

“Oh sorry Yuji, I thought you were Sukuna again…” you 😒

Honestly when Yuji is gone, it’s a little easier to maintain the children

Megumi and Nobara are training for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill event with the 2nd years and you finally have some time to chill out

Too bad that doesn’t last long 😃

Because Megumi and Nobara don’t know Yuji is alive and Gojo thinks it would be a great idea to just surprise everyone at the event

“Umm Gojo I really don’t think springing the kids once dead now suddenly alive friend on them right before a major event is a good idea,” you being the practical the caring instructor

“It’s gonna be fine Yn seriously everyone is going to be so happy!” Gojo exclaims 🤩

I mean, happy is one word to describe it I guess…

You stand with the students and await the long overdue arrive of Gojo

“YN, can’t you just take over as leader,” Maki asks

“Salmon,” Inumaki adds

“I get what you guys are saying but unfortunately Gojo is still going to be your teams main leader,” you say as everyone sighs

Suddenly you see Gojo, frolicking up to you and pushing a large crate

“Oh sweet Jesus,” you think to yourself, knowing exactly what is about to happen

And spoiler alert, ever the Sagittarian he is, Gojo presents their long dead friend, Yuji Itadori

Megumi and Nobara 👇🏻

You 👉🏻 😐🙄

Once the shock has worn off the event can finally start

You retreat to watch the event with the teachers when disaster strikes

You race towards the kids, seeing a vail being placed as you manage to quickly slide under it before it’s complete

“AND SHES SAFE!” Gojo shouts as you roll your eyes and run towards the students

“Seriously Gojo? You wanna joke now!” Utahime says as she stops outside the barrier

“I trust Yn with my life, she will keep the students safe,” Gojo says as you run to find the students

When you encounter the curse known as Hanami you immediately recognize it as an unregistered curse

“Crap this isn’t good!” You say as you run to get the kids

“Yuji, Todo get the hell out of here!” You shout as you try you best to not engage

“Oh hey Yn Sensai!” Yuji shouts :D

“It’s fine YN Sensai we’ve got this right brother?” Todo shouts as you feel the barrier begin to break and see someone above the trees

You 👉🏻 🤨

“Is that-” Yuji asks as you roll your eyes

“Never fear students, your incredible sensai is here to rescue you!” Gojo shouts as his eyes shimmer, an unknown force shaking the ground

You 👉🏻 😐 a little late don’t you think?

You watch as the curse flees, probably the idea of facing Gojo more than they could handle

“Are you all ok?” You ask as the boys nod

“YN Sensai, how come we never get to see you fight?” Yuji asks as you smile

“It’s probably because I’m too busy dealing with Gojo,” you laugh

Facts YN, facts

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jeanniebug623 · 3 months

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🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 10: The Innocent

TW: Implied Past Child Abuse

The colonel stared at the boy. Emphasis on ‘boy’ as he looked him over. Quaritch had assumed it was Spider he’d taken from solitary. That his remorse for Miles’ violent actions was the reason for the tears and lack of communication. But the more he looked, the more Quaritch realized the subtleties of the boy’s mannerisms that told him this wasn’t Spider he was dealing with.

The boy was still fidgeting with the hem of the hospital gown as he stared back at Quaritch. He stood with his feet slightly turned in, curling his toes. He looked uncomfortable, chewing on his lower lip to stop it from trembling and wide doe eyes asking for forgiveness as he shifted his weight from side to side. He looked exactly like a child afraid of being in trouble. Honestly, he was but it could have been a hell of a lot worse if Ardmore considered McCosker more of an asset.

“Uh...” Quaritch tried to fill the silence as he ran his hand over his face and paused covering his mouth.

This wasn’t Spider; this wasn’t Miles.

Quaritch took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he stood, walking over to Spider so he had to crane his neck back to look up at him. There was a different look in this boy’s eyes – a naivety – that the others didn’t have. The innocence in this boy’s eyes wasn’t defended by sarcastic eyerolls like Spider or fueled by violent unpredictability like Miles.

“I’m sorry...” Spider said in a quiet voice. Those big, brown eyes started shining with fresh tears. Quaritch had never felt such a sense of sympathy in his life...

“What are you sorry for?” Quaritch asked, unaware how his normal gruff tone could be imposing to younger children until he saw the boy flinch.

Spider recoiled, holding his injured hand to his chest and curling his shoulders in slightly, but didn’t back away. Trying to run away always made the punishment worse...

“I don’t know.” Spider said quickly, “But I must’ve been really bad to go to a room like that...”

Fuck........Quaritch was NOT prepared for this. Not that he’d been ready to learn his genetic predecessor’s son was still on Pandora or that his headaches following the interrogations was a mental fracture resulting in a psychotic version of that son. But this? This boy? With the literal mentality and mannerisms of a young child? No...no, the colonel was not prepared.

“No, you didn’t do anything.” Quaritch said as he waved his hand to emphasize his speech. But he paused abruptly when the boy recoiled further into himself and closed his eyes tightly as if preparing to be struck. Quaritch’s unused emotions stirred violently at the sight of the strong, independent young man he’d come to know wincing like a scared little boy. The sympathy mixing with primal rage to tear apart whoever made this young mind so afraid was causing his heart to pound

Spider opened one eye narrowly and looked at the colonel. Whoever this man was, he must have been incredibly angry with him. His ears were flat to his head and his tail was flipping repeatedly in frustration. The hand Quaritch moved across when speaking was now in a tight fist. But Spider didn’t know he wasn’t the cause for the anger...

“I-I...” Spider started, trying not to cry since that also usually made it worse, “I-I didn’t mean to. Whatever I did. Y-You're really mad...”

“No.” Quaritch said, forcing himself to temper is anger because it was only scaring the kid more, “Well, yea. I am mad but I’m not mad at you. Ok?”

“Ok...” Spider said with a tight throat. He didn’t sound convinced but when a grown-up tells you something, you listen.

Quaritch looked back at the boy, forcing down his own emotions, to put on a gentle smile. He slowly put his hand on the boy’s shoulder only to find his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. He hoped the boy wasn’t visibly shaking but now it was confirmed with his large blue hand on the boy’s broad shoulder. Spider was shaking in fear. And he wouldn’t help the boy’s fear by getting openly angry himself.

“Do you want to talk about it, Spider?” Quaritch asked, looking nice on the surface but mentally knocking McCosker’s head in like Miles had tried to do.

“I don’t know what I did...” Spider said sheepishly.

Quaritch paused to think. Ja, and his own research, told Quaritch that very few cases of dissociative identity disorder had shared memories between the different personalities. But Spider’s case was anything but a ‘normal’ case. Miles could remember everything from Spider’s life and current experience. Spider was able to vaguely remember when Miles was in control, a ‘waking nightmare’ that faded over time. But this new personality seemed more textbook. Poor kid...no memory of what happened or why he was in so much pain from his hand injury...

“It’s ok...” Quaritch said softly as he stood, “Let’s take a seat on the couch and talk about it.”

His gentle tone must have soothed the boy because Spider nodded and even put on a small smile before going back over and jumping on the couch. Quaritch sat next to him and tented his fingers as he leaned his elbows forward on his knees, planning his words carefully.

“So...you are in a bit of trouble.” Quaritch said, looking at the boy to see the fear return instantly so he quickly added, “But it’s not your fault. You got into a little bit of a scrape.”

“I was fighting?” Spider asked in a hushed tone then looked around aimlessly, “Mr. McCosker’s gonna be so mad at me...”

“Eh, you were fighting with Mr. McCosker.” Quaritch said quickly. This kid may have a different mentality than Spider or Miles, but he was still going to be honest with him. He just needed to be more aware of his approach and terminology. Whatever the fuck that was going to entail. He didn’t know jack shit about dealing with young kids, even the teenage Spider was trial and error.

“I-I...I...I did...?” Spider asked, his breathing picking up as he lost all color in his face. Quaritch could recognize fear when he saw it and the boy was terrified of the consequences for crossing Nash McCosker. “I’m really gonna get it now! Mrs. McCosker’s gonna be so mad too!”

“Hey, hey. Look at me, Spider.” Quaritch said placatingly as tear-filled eyes looked up at him. The kid was close to sobbing, the panic attack reaching its tipping point. He spoke slowly and clearly through the boy’s loud sniffles, “I’m not going to let anyone get to you, alright? No one’s going to hurt you while I’m here.”

Spider stared at the Quaritch, confused. He didn’t know this man! But if he was willing to stop his foster parents from disciplining him, he was willing to take the chance on a stranger. The colonel was not prepared for the boy to scramble across the couch and collapse into his lap with his small arms wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you, sir!” Spider said through his free-flowing tears now.

Quaritch was frozen as the boy cried into his stomach with his shaky arms wrapping around his stomach. He didn’t know how to respond to the emotional child or the embrace. He could easily forget this was a snarky sixteen-year-old and more of a six-year-old clinging to a shred of kindness from a stranger. He tentatively moved his hands below the kid’s arms and pulled him fully up onto his lap and rested the boy against his chest to let him cry it out into his shoulder. He sighed quietly, running his hand down the back of Spider’s hair to his back and rubbing it soothingly.

He had no memories of ever holding his child before...

Quaritch didn’t rush the boy’s crying fit. His shoulder was well saturated in tears after only a few minutes, but it was clear how much pain and sadness this young mind had bottled up inside. No child should ever feel like this...and the admission of this was pulling guilt in several directions as he thought not only of HIS child, but ALL children.

“I really am Miles Junior...” Spider finally said after he got all the sobs out.

Quaritch furrowed his brow and leaned boy back so he could look him. His face was a blotchy mess with red, puffy eyes and snot dripping from his nose that he quickly wiped with the back of his bandaged hand. The colonel made a mental note to re-wrap that once he was fully calmed down and asked, “What do you mean?”

Spider shrugged and sniffed again, “I don’t know...but Mr. McCosker says it to remind me where I came from...”

Quaritch closed his eyes and let that sink in. And it sank real deep. That the people who raised his boy would demonize him like that. This boy’s memories were so young he didn’t know who his parents were or the atrocities he would have been taught about growing up. The old colonel would find this as a perfect opportunity to get the story straight from his side of the war. But the new colonel? That didn’t matter...the damage was done, no point making excuses now.

“You don’t seem to like that name...” Quaritch observed, wiping leftover tears off his cheek with his thumb.

The boy shrugged but also shook his head. Kids didn’t always make sense...Quaritch reminded himself that they might be groomed to please their caretakers without knowing how to express how they really feel. That came with age. Just look at Miles...

“So, you like Spider?” Quaritch asked. He wasn’t sure if this was going to make things easier or more confusing to have two personalities go by Spider.

“Yea...but I don’t know if it’s my real name...” Spider said with a nod but still looked unsure. He was afraid to say or do anything to make this kind adult upset. Plus, he’d always been told that Spider was ‘just a nickname’ because of how well he could climb.

Quaritch knew Spider’s chosen name was his true name. The namesake he inherited was a kind gesture from Paz, but it didn’t suit him. And he was, surprisingly, content that his son wouldn’t carry his name.

“Can I call you MJ until you figure it out?” Quaritch asked on a whim, wanting the boy to just rest after the trying day he’d had. No memory of the fight but waking up alone in a straitjacket in solitary with a sore hand? His boy needed to rest.

Yes. HIS boy.

“Like in Spider-Man?” Spider asked excitedly with a big smile.

Quaritch paused for a moment. He never read those old comics as a kid, but Wainfleet was always a sucker for those types of things...

“Wasn’t that Spider-Man's girlfriend...?” the colonel asked, not sure of his comic knowledge. The happy nod he got in response confirmed his suspicion but what the hell? The kid’s happiness was far more important. He surrendered with a low chuckle and said, “Yea, just like in Spider-Man.”

“I like it!” Spider said and he threw his arms around Quaritch’s neck into another warm embrace.

Quaritch was more than happy to reciprocate this time and wrapped his arms around the young child in a teenage body. Thank God for the size of his recom body, he could pretend for a half a second they’d gone back in time to a time that should’ve happened but never did. He put his hand on the back of Spider’s head, running his fingers through his hair.

“Good.” Quaritch said quietly, “I’m happy you do, MJ.”

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow spider #spider quaritch #miles spider socorro #recom quaritch #weaving the web #ao3 writer

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unnaturalequilibrium · 8 months

Text

don't hurt my mom [Shira/Hannah ficlet]

Opening the door Shira was struck with an uncanny sense of deja vu. Before her stood a clearly agitated Troy, for the second time in the span of a few days. Second time around in no way made things less awkward than they had been the first one. Even without all of the other things going on it still felt strange for Shira to wrap her mind around the fact that this cocky little twerp was part Hannah. If she truly looked at him she could almost see it, something around the mouth, something in the way he moved. But she tried not to truly look at him, because the weird got too intense when she did. She still stood with the hand on the front door when he interrupted her silent musings.

“So you going to let me in, or what?” he asks impatiently.

“Mickey’s not here,” she replies, hoping she was misinterpreting the look on his face, the way he kept studying hers.

“That’s not the Bolitar I’m looking for this time,” he says. His jaw tense and Shira can feel her own neck muscles following suit.

“Okay,” she replies with uncertainty. Cautiously she opens up the door and takes a step back to let him enter, he does so without another word, disappearing into her kitchen. She throws a glance down the deserted street before tentatively closing the door and reluctantly following him inside.

Troy looks even weirder in the kitchen this time somehow, she realises he looks awkward, as awkward as she feels and it’s making him look smaller, younger. Less arrogant teenager, more nervous boy.

She swallows. “Look, Troy - “ she begins and stops, expelling a breath through her nose. “This is fucking awkward-”

“If you hurt my mom - “ he interrupts her, jaw once more tensing as his knuckles whiten into clenched fists. “I’ll -” he drifts off as he doesn’t seem to know himself what should follow, how much of a threat his threat is supposed to be. His shoulders suddenly drop, hands relax and the young look re-enters his face. “Please don’t hurt my mom,” he begs as some of the surface anger seems to have ebbed, leaving a lost and scared boy in its wake.

Shira blinks at him. “I-”

“She doesn’t deserved to be fucked with,” he says in a heated tone.

She looks at him silently, glad that whatever faint restraints she has on her tongue held and she didn’t blurt out the first thing that sprang to mind, “yes she does, she deserves to be fucked with well”. But that was not something you say to the children of the woman you were sleeping with, that much did even her at times questionable social skills cover. “Look, kid. This shit is complicated,” she finally says out loud, trying not to wince at the understatement of the century. She met his eyes and something in her chest hurt as she caught the ghost of Hannah in that gaze, her pleading eyes when she begged Shira not to run, not again.

She took a breath and felt her hands shake at her side. “Actually it’s -” she swallows, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. “It’s a shitty situation, I know,” she tells him. “But I love your mom.” The statement made something explode inside of her, a burst of electricity, thrilling and dangerous. Yeah, she loves her, always has. Saying it out loud - she swallows.

“Whatever,” he shrugs, trying to look unbothered without succeeding. “I'm telling you, don’t hurt her.”

“I probably will,” she admits. “At some point, somehow-” she makes sure she catches his eyes again. “But I’d never do it intentionally. Your mom is kind of amazing.”

His cheeks colour and he looks deeply uncomfortable as he rubs at the stubble at the back of his neck. “Yeah, whatever.”

The corner of her mouth quirks into a small smile, she tries to tamp down on it, but is as unsuccessful at hiding her emotions as he is.

“Just don’t expect me to call you, mom or some shit like that,” he says and folds his arms across his chest.

“What - No, please don’t-” she blurts out, looking deeply horrified at the mere thought of it.

“Fine,” he replies, arms still across his chest.

“Good,” she hums, wondering what kind of natural or man-made disaster she could conjure up out of thin air to make this discussion end.

He seems as affected by the awkwardness as Shira is and his arms hug his chest closer as he starts backing away towards the front door. “I’m leaving now.”

“Yeah, good. Good,” she says nodding her head, silently thanking whatever deity saw fit to finally put her out of the misery that was this conversation.

He turns his back towards her and with a hand on the door she hears a quiet repeat, “Please, don’t hurt my mom”.

She looks at the back of his neck and answers him quietly, “I hope I don’t” as he steps through the door and out into the driveway. The door swings shut behind him and Shira is left staring at it, trying to work out some order to whatever the hell her emotions were doing.

“Well fuck,” she mumbles to herself.

#shira x hannah #harlan coben's shelter #look since the show isn't giving me what I want then I am simply going to have to be self-indulgent

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abbatoirablaze · 9 months

Text

Locked Up, Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: noncon, manipulation, dangerous situations, mention of bodily harm, oral (f receiving), mention of being stabbed, threats.

You cut your appointments after that. When you had come stumbling out of the room, you were grateful that neither of the guards had been waiting directly outside. It gave you time to collect yourself and get your bearings.

They walked around the corner a few minutes later, talking about the latest game that had happened.

“Done already doc?”

“Bet he scared the shit out of her!” The first one chuckled, “that inmate is an animal…they all are. Y-“

“He’s been silent,” you lied, shaking your head, “di-did Reyes ever get him to speak? I notice he never had many notes about him.”

“Never said much,” Connors admitted to you, clearly oblivious to your state of anxiousness, “Want us to take him back and grab the next one?”

“You can take him,” you said simply, “I-I think I’m going to get some lunch myself though…pushed it back after Drysdale, because the warden asked me to meet with him during my original lunch break…”

“Yeah, you watch out for him!” Connors chuckled, “he’ll talk your ear off if you let him.”

“I barely made it back in time for you to bring me, Everett!” you laughed awkwardly, hoping that your own high emotions would fade by the time they checked on the inmate in your office, “anyways…I think I’ll finish up the notes on him and study up on the others I was supposed to meet with today…I-I’ll throw them on the books for tomorrow.”

“You think Everett was bad, wait til you meet up with Barnes…” the first one scoffed, “that guy is really fucked up.”

You felt yourself paling, “W-what?”

“Don’t worry doc, you’ll see…him and Rogers…you were supposed to meet with them two next, right?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Don’t go scaring the doc,” Connors chuckled, nudging his partner, “Come on Adam, let’s get Everett back to the block before meds go out. Last thing we need is him fully coherent…”

“Meds?” you asked, confused over what he was saying, “I-I didn’t see any notes that any of them were on meds. Let alo-“

“Warden’s been doing it for years…gives em all a pill at the end of the night to make it easier on us,” the first guard chuckled, “we tell em all they’re vitamins, but…some of those psychos really need it.”

You felt horror in the pit of your stomach, “wh-what if one of them were allergic? You should neve-“

“Doc…it’s fine…you do your job, and we’ll do ours,” the first guard scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. He gently backhanded his partner’s chest, “come on, kid. Let’s get Everett back to the block, yeah?”

“Well, well, well…aren’t you a pretty, young thing!”

Your head snapped up as the guards led your first patient of the day in.

“Mr. Rogers.”

“Steve, sweetheart,” he smiled sweetly, “Mr. Rogers was my father…”

“Good, god.”

Steve shot a glare over his shoulder to Adam, and you bit back a giggle.

“Don’t you two have anything better to do?”

“Doc?” Connors asked, giving you a look as Steve sat down on the chair, “want us to stay in here?”

You took a moment to try to get a read on the seemingly charming man. You had read his profile, just like the others you were supposed to meet with today over and over. But the man in front of you didn’t seem like the man that had been described in the folder.

“Is it necessary, doc?”

You looked to the two guards once more, letting your guard down. You shrugged, “I guess it’s not necessary…you two can wait outside if you want…or grab a coffee.”

“Whatever you say, doc!” Connors smiled.

Adam followed him after, and you heard the condescension in his voice as you were ‘letting your pussy do the judging’. Steve shook his head. When the door closed, he reached out and touched the desk, a sincere look in his eyes, “I’m sorry he spoke about you like that. That guy’s the worst.”

“Tell me about it!” you laughed, already feeling comfortable around him. He gave you a soft smile before pulling away from the desk and crossing his hands in his lap. That was when you noticed they hadn’t locked his chains to the bolt in the floor, securing him to the singular spot.

His eyes followed yours, and he shrugged, “would you feel safer if I was bolted? I’m sure they’re not too far. You could call them back.”

Not wanting to kill the trust in the room, you shook your head, eyes falling away from it, “no-no…it-it’s fine. I don’t want to-“

“I don’t mind….” He sighed, “I’m used to people seeing me as an animal. Especially in here.”

“Why do you think people see you as an animal, Mr. Rogers?”

“You’re joking, right?” he chuckled, the puff of air making it seemed as though he scoffed at your question, “I’m sure you’ve read my file. You seem like a smart girl. A girl who does your homework on her patients…”

“I-I looked at your file.”

“They say I’m a psychopath…” he said slowly, his cerulean eyes shifting up towards yours once more, “they say I’m a danger to those around me…I’m sure you’ve heard rumors.”

The air in the room shifted, and suddenly, Steve didn’t seem so comforting. You felt your throat dry up as you thought about what was said yesterday, “I-I have…”

“What did they tell you about me, little bunny?” he asked firmly.

You felt a tightness in your chest.

It was like you were compelled to answer him, “t-that you cut off your business partners arm when he was about to take a deal in your trial…”

His eyes held yours. And for a moment, you lost your breath. You took a shaky breath in, and it was like he was watching you so intently, waiting for you to run so that he could pounce on you, “And what do you think about that?”

“Wh-why would anyone cut someone’s arm off?”

He only smirked, making you feel like you’d made the wrong decision in letting the guards go for a little while, “Because bunny, Buck signed the deal with his left hand.”

“I-Is now a bad time?”

You looked up from your desk, surprised to see one of your patients standing there, sans a guard. Surprise laced your features, “J-Jake…what are you doing here without a-“

But you stopped your words when you noticed the IT cart that he’d had with him, “guards usually secure me on a floor then do whatever while I update the firewalls and fix any issues that they have IT wise.”

You gave him a sad smile, “did you need something?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “you just-you looked upset…I heard Officer Connors and Magda talking about you earlier…you seemed like you were shaken up after you met with Rogers…a-at least that’s what they said. I mean you cou-“

“I was…”

This time it was him that gave you a sad smile, “I-I’m sorry…some of the guys in here…they-it’s a really hard place to navigate. I mean, I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be for you, and for the other women that work here. I-“

“Jake…stop.”

His cheeks turned rosy, and he bit his lip, looking away from you, “I-I’m sorry, doc.”

“Don’t be…you’re just being honest…” you sighed, feeling bad about the small bout of reject he was no doubt laced with when you told him to stop speaking, “I know that it’s difficult in my position…and I know that the inmates treat me…differently than if I were a man.”

“Well…i-if you need to talk…”

You giggled and Jake nervously ran his hand over the back of his neck. He turned, reaching for his cart once more so that he could leave, “I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t leave…”

Jake turned, surprised at hearing you call out for him, “What?”

“Di-did you want to…come in?” you asked nervously, “I really could use someone to speak with if you were being serious.”

Your lips parted, a whimper escaping the back of your throat as your nails gripped at the edge of the desk to stop from gripping onto the blonde tipped hair of the man under the desk.

“Just needed to relax was all,” Jake purred as he nipped at your inner thigh. You moaned as his fingers dipped into your soaked core once more, and he leaned forward, his nose bumping softly against your clit. He was nearly breathless from having spent the past twenty minutes between your thighs. His lips ghosted over your clit, and you shuddered, “god, it’s been so long…fuck, I needed this, doc! Ever since she stopped letting me…I-I need this…I-I need you, doc.”

Your door opened and your hands slipped down to his face. Your eyes met with the two guards, Connors and Magda.

“You seen inmate Jensen?”

“J-Jensen?” you asked breathlessly. Jake’s tongue lathed over your clit, and you shuddered, “J-Jensen. Oh…uh…uhmmm…”

“You okay, doc?” Connors asked, brow raised, “look a little shiny…”

“Heat!” you gasped quickly while he sucked your clit back into his mouth. You gasped and immediately started fanning yourself with one of the folders on your desk, while your other hand tugged on Jake’s hair, “s-so-so hot!”

The words were breathy, and you released a moan, but both of the men seemed disinterested in you, figuring you weren’t used to the summer heat in the prison, “You seen Jensen, or what? His cart is right here outside your door?”

“Hmmmm!” you hummed, not wanting to give your indiscretions away. Your head looked to the bathroom that was attached to your office, “he-he’s there. Busy…”

The two men chuckled, not thinking anything of it, “well...you let him know that Jay over in medical wants his software done when he’s…finished. Guess the guy didn’t finish when Lila was in last month.”

“Mhmmm!” you whimpered, nodding along, while trying to keep your composure. The two guards chuckled, closing the door behind them, and you weren’t sure what exactly they were laughing at. You looked back down at Jake who was happily in his own world, lapping at your cunt, “Ja-Jake…stop. Sto-stop…oh, god…”

He smiled, pushing himself away from your core, only to nip at your thighs once more. His hands, which had been tucked under your legs, and wrapped around your waist to hold you still slid back down to your thighs and he began massaging the flesh, while his stubble grazed over your tender skin.

He licked his plump lips and gave you a sinful smile, “feel better, doc?”

“Y-yes…” you nodded breathlessly. He unwrapped his arms from you, and you pushed yourself out of the chair, but when you attempted to stand, he held you in it.

“Don’t go getting up quick or nothing,” he said with a blush rising to his cheeks. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt and you blushed, seeing the darkness from your own slick now on his uniform, “had ourselves a hell of a time…”

“Th-that can never happen again, Mr. Jensen…”

Jake’s blush got deeper, and he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, but reached onto your desk with the other, slipping his glasses back on, “w-was I that bad?”

“No…god no…you know that…that’s not-that’s not what I meant,” you tried to explain, “but you-you’re a patient Jake…a patient who has emophilia…y-you form these bonds with everyone you meet of the opposite sex an-“

“I know! D-Doctor Ellis told me about it when she told me to stop,” he said quickly, cutting you off. He dropped back to his knees in front of you, his hands splaying over your thighs, “doc…I-I know that I-I know what I am…but I-I jus wanted you to feel better…I-“

“You’re a patient, Jake,” you replied firmly, “a patient and an inmate…I crossed so many lines by-“

But you were cut off when Jake’s lips met yours. You gasped against his lips, and his tongue invaded your mouth.

You were quick to push him away, “Jake…”

“I-I just want you to feel okay, doc…” Jake said sadly, “d-don’t transfer me to the other doc…d-don’t throw me away like everyone else…don-don’t do what Lila did to me…please…”

Your heart sunk in your chest, “Jake…I-I wouldn’t throw you away. Th-that’s not what this is. I just-I was feeling overwhelmed…and we-wait…Lila…as in Doctor Lila Ellis who helps run medical with Jay?“

Jake nodded, “sh-she was my girlfriend…and Ari is our boyfriend. An-“

“Jake-“

“I ate you out!” he said firmly. You bit your lip, nodding along.

“Yeah…”

“D-do you feel better?”

“Honestly?” you asked sadly. Jake frowned and nodded, “I just feel worse…I used you Jake…an-and that’s not okay!”

“But I don’t mind…”

“But I do,” you said quickly, sadly, “I-I’m sorry Jake…but I think I’m going to transfer your care to the other doc. I-I don’t think what we did was okay…”

Your heart ached as you stared at the man in the medical ward’s bed. You looked over to your colleague, guilt weighing heavily in your stomach, “I-is he…okay?”

Sanjay gave you a sympathetic look, “it was nothing that you did…unfortunately, it happens all the time. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You bit your lip as you looked at the sleeping inmate.

It had been two days since you last saw Jake Jensen. After he left your office, you started the paperwork of transferring his care to the other prison shrink. Unfortunately for you, since she was taking one of yours, you had to take one of hers.

But you hadn’t heard anything about Jake in those two days.

Not until you happened to get out of your session with Sam Wilson when you were forced back into the office by a CO who was rushing with Jake Jensen bleeding out down the hall.

He’d been stabbed.

By who, no one seemed to know.

“I-it does?”

He frowned, nodding once more, “unfortunately. Though, it doesn’t usually happen to someone like Jensen!”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well, Jake Jensen is low inmate on the totem pole of power struggles around here,” Sanjay shrugged, “he’s quiet. Keeps to himself. Doesn’t have any gang or mob ties. One of the few. Usually, people just leave him alone…even the guards. I’m sure you’ve seen him do the IT work here…and up until last month he volunteered in the wing with Dr. Ellis and myself…”

The guilt gnawed at your stomach even more remembering not only the conversation you’d had where you told him he was done with you, but also of Dr. Ellis.

“He must have really pissed someone off,” he shrugged, “say…wasn’t he a patient of yours?”

“T-traded him to Jeffries…”

“Shame,” he said with a sigh, “seemed like he’s been happier the past week you’ve been around…thought someone was finally getting through to him. You know, we’ve had the poor kid on suicide watch a few times since he’s arrived…always says people are ‘tossing him away.’ Think he’s just got issues with women and when one finally tells him no he goes off the deep end…last time it was with the female CO on D block…she got him transferred to A because of it…and he stopped hanging around once Lila told him he was crossing lines with her…he was writing her little love notes and such.”

You frowned, not really having a comeback for the conversation.

For a few minutes you and Dr. Sanjay stood, staring at Jake, “has Dr. Ellis been informed of the attack on him?”

“She was down here before I had the chance to text her. It was during the shift change so she was doing some last minute paperwork…while she wasn’t overly affectionate with Jensen, that really seemed to rattle her. I gave her yesterday and today off.”

You nodded, “Oh…”

“Well…I’m sure you’ve got to get back,” he said firmly, “thank you for checking on him even though you switched him to Jeffries. She hasn’t been in once.”

You nodded, before you finally got the courage to leave, heading back towards your office. You were surprised when the door was wide open.

You could have sworn you locked it.

Furrowing your brows, you looked around. Sliding your head into the room first, everything seemed like it was the way that you’d left it.

Except for the envelope that sat on your desk.

Your name was scrawled across it in bold calligraphy writing. Gently opening the envelope, you gasped at how the heavy cardstock weighed you down. Especially when you saw the words penned onto it.

‘Every sweet ounce of you belongs to me, doc. Let Jensen taste you again, and he won’t wake up.’

Chapter 3

Tag List: @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72

#locked up #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #soft jake jensen #jake jensen smut #the losers fanfiction #losers

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

Note

OKAYYY THATS GREAT :D

sooo this is coming straight from my daydreaming lmao, but like imagine daryl and reader have a father-daughter relationship EXCEPT they got separated a bit before Negan arrives (maybe she left at the same time as Carol and Morgan or idk) and when he goes to the Hilltop, not only does he find Carol, but he finds the reader too and it’s just like a cute family reunion????

༉‧₊˚. 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 || 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon & teenage!Reader

― era: Season 7

― summary: after finding a new family, it was ripped away from you as fast as it came.

― warnings: mentions of the saviors, negan is his own warning, season 7 spoiler warning, guns, emotional reunions, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort.

― wc: 1490

⋆ a/n: it feels like i haven't written anything in so long omg, but i had this in my drafts and already halfway written, so i figured i'd just finish it and post it so you guys don't hungry LMFAO, even though this is another platonic!daryl fanfic.

masterlist | AO3

You were back to square one. You don’t remember the last time that you had seen your found family, or your caretaker, Daryl, not ever since the prison fell. You weren’t as lucky as the others that may have broken off into groups. You were all alone, forced to fend for yourself once again.

It felt like back in the beginning, when Daryl had found your makeshift camp, you had set up in an abandoned store, which led to him getting held at gunpoint by a child no older than thirteen.

“Aye kid, there ain’t no need for trouble.” The redneck said with his hands raised.

“You’re right, there doesn’t need to be,” You turned off the safety of the gun, keeping it steadily pointed up at his head. “So, get the fuck out of here.” Well, your foul mouth had certainly caught him off guard. He allowed his eyes to sweep along the empty shelves in front of him, taking in the decrepit conditions that he could only assume wasn’t a pleasant place to live in.

He had slowly begun to turn around and his gut was twisted at the sight of you. You had dirt and blood spattered all over your raggedy clothes that were tattered, littered throughout with sizeable holes. It didn’t matter that you had a gun pointed at him, there was something inside him – something fatherly – that wouldn’t allow him to leave a child behind, let alone someone as young as you.

“You alone?” He dared to ask. “What does it matter?” You bit back coldly. “I jus’ have a hard time believin’ you been alive this long without someone takin’ care of ya.” You scoffed, his seemingly demeaning question caused your finger to twitch against the gun, the trigger to be more precise. “Where are your parents?” There was something that passed in your eyes, equivalent to sadness, grief, and irritation.

“They’re dead.” You had forced yourself to say, even though deep inside of you, you were still coping with the fact that you had lost your parents just two months before now. There were so many things that you had to do on your own, like live alone and grow accustomed to being the one that used the gun, which was more your mother and father’s department.

“M'sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely, his voice softening. The random act of empathy caused the tension in your shoulders to release, but you still eyed him cautiously. “It doesn’t matter anymore, just get whatever you’re going to get and go.” You weren’t going to lie; your arms were starting to hurt. “I know this is going’ta sound strange, but I got a group; men, women, children, a pregnant woman.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “Who would be dumb enough to get pregnant during an apocalypse?” You couldn’t help but snort, “To me, that sounds like dead weight.”

“Ain’t all that bad. ‘Beats stayin’ in a place that smells like shit.” You laughed a bit at his words, which caused a grin to tug at the corner of his lips. “It does smell like shit.” You agreed.

There were a lot of things that you had grown to regret at such a young age but giving Daryl the benefit of the doubt was never one of them. You should’ve thanked him, you supposed, to have allowed you to have a second chance at life. It wasn’t about survival anymore, even after you found the prison, after Lori died, after you had to fight the Governor for it. It seemed like life was going well… a little too well.

You knew that the Governor was out there somewhere, just waiting to enact his revenge, but even as that fear constantly breathed down your neck, you couldn’t find it within yourself to dwell on it. Maybe you should’ve, maybe if you had, you would still have your family… your dad.

Yes, you knew Daryl wasn’t your dad, but he was damn near the closest thing you’ve had to one in a long time. He would always make sure you had a chance to be a kid, that he supplied you with whatever you wanted, either that be; comic books, actual books, board games, even going as far as to give you a fancy journal that you could “write all your teenager thoughts in or whatever.” You laughed at it then, but as you walked life alone once again, it became the only company you had, just you and your thoughts.

He would make sure that you had eaten, gotten enough sleep, helping you hunt and identify mushrooms and shit that you had laughed at then, which grew to be beneficial now. In a way, you felt like Daryl knew the Governor would strike once again, too.

Neither of you had never said you loved one another, but there was no need to verbalize it, not when his and your actions spoke louder than words.

You had lost count of the days sense then, but it may have been a year? Maybe a year and half since you had lost everything. Your body had shown signs of change, that your hair had grown longer, and you were taller, much more mature looking.

It wasn’t until you had met a man by the name of Morgan, who happened to stumble across you walking amongst the streets, not a clue of where you were going. That’s what your days had dwindled down too recently, just walking, not sure of where you were going as you fought off the deep sadness in your heart. He had told you of a settlement he knew of that he could take you, one that was practically a utopia, ruled by a man named King Ezekiel. You couldn’t believe it, but you didn’t have it in you to reject his request, just desperate to find a place to rest.

That’s when you found Carol, the woman living in a home a little while away. You had seen her walking out of what seemed to be an auditorium, even though it was referred to as Ezekiel’s throne room. You had practically thrown yourself onto the woman when you saw her, crumbling in her arms as she still tried to get over the shock of you being alive. She ran her fingers through your hair with tears in her eyes as she studied you; you looked so much older, she wasn’t going to lie and say that it hadn’t freaked her out a little bit.

She had given you a rundown about the things that were happening as she allowed you to hunker down in her home, saying that she didn’t quite trust the Kingdom just yet to have you staying in one of the houses there. You were told that the others were fine despite being under the new rule of a man named Negan who had killed Glenn and a man named Abraham. You were devastated to hear about Glenn, and what added icing on the shit cake you were being served, Daryl had been taken and no one knew if he was dead or alive. It was safe to say you tried to silence your cries as you rested on her couch, knowing that the woman was trying to sleep in the next room over.

Earlier the next day, Ezekiel had visited the both of you, much to the older woman’s irritation, so when another knock was delivered to the door, Carol sent you a look, one that told you that it was your turn to open the door.

Your breath stopped, your heart dropping as you felt your knees grow weak. There Daryl stood, looking absolutely broken and worn down, the bags under his eyes a lot more apparent than usual as his own eyes widened.

“_______?” He called out your name in disbelief. “Daryl!” You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder as you cried. “Where- how- why?” He stuttered through his words. “I- I’ve been on my own… but- how are you here? I thought Negan had taken you.” He shuddered at the reminder. “He did but I got out.”

You had all but dragged him inside where Carol shared a tearful embrace with him as well. Carol left for the kitchen to make the three of you dinner, knowing that Daryl was undoubtedly hungry after living in the conditions that he was in for the past few days.

You and Daryl were sitting on the couch, with your legs pulled up to your chest, your caregiver’s eyes locked on the fire that burned brightly.

“Can’t believe how grown ya are.” Daryl remarked next to you. “Remember when you were yea’high pointin’ a gun at my face.” You just snorted, “I’m not even going to lie, you look like shit.” You teased him back. He just scoffed and elbowed you light-heartedly.

“Thanks kid.” He said fondly, ruffling your hair.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

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qqueenofhades · 9 months

Note

I don’t know if you’re currently taking any sort of ficlet writing prompts, but this popped into my head earlier. Fedyor to Ivan as newly graduated grisha trying to figure out where they stand with each other after having spent all of training hating each other, “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid and don’t you dare deny it”

It is a sad but common fact of Fedyor Kaminsky's life that Ivan Sakharov absolutely loathes him. This isn't exactly news, because as far as anyone can tell, Ivan Sakharov absolutely loathes everyone. The tall, skinny, angry northern kid from Chernast with a permanent chip on his shoulder and an apparently pathological aversion to making friends, taking it easy, or even smiling at anyone in the dining hall or the dormitories, ever. Even the other junior Heartrenders, including Fedyor, think he's a little much, and they tend to start conversations with any of their fellow trainees by apologizing for whatever Ivan did to them all yesterday. It's an oddly common currency for cross-Order friendships at the Little Palace. Who knew.

The thing is, which Fedyor doesn't get, is that Ivan seems to especially hate him. This doesn't make sense, because Fedyor is about as friendly and outgoing as a Heartrender can possibly be (maybe that's why he's so offensive to Mr. Doom of the World over there?) He can get along with almost anyone, he's the only one who has attempted to stand up for Ivan when the rest of his friends are bagging on him, and it just seems unlikely that of all the fledgling Grisha, Fedyor is somehow the most intolerable. It bothers him, not least because the two of them have had what you might call moments. A few of them. From time to time. It's hard to tell with Ivan and his complete inability to grasp basic human emotion, but still.

Now, however, it's the celebration for the newly minted Grisha cadets, allowed an evening of drink, food, and revelry before they're all packed off to the Fjerdan frontlines tomorrow and get to prove how much that training was actually worth by whether they stay alive. Fedyor has been enjoying it with his friends, raising toasts and convinced, as every young soldier is, that they're in fact immortal. But he's also taken note of Ivan sitting in a corner and glaring at everyone daring to do something so heretical as enjoy a party, and after his third cup of wine, Fedyor sees no need to put up with it. He gets to his feet, brushes off the heavy new black-embroidered red kefta that they all officially get to wear, and marches over. "Sakharov."

Ivan eyes him up and down, chewing his tongue. There is a very long pause. Then he snaps, "Kaminsky."

"Look at us." Fedyor, displaying more bravery than the entire Second Army combined, flops himself down directly in Ivan's lap. He is running a real risk of being the first casualty of the autumn campaign, but while a muscle leaps in Ivan's cheek at this unbearable familiarity, he doesn't actually try to murder Fedyor on the spot, and therefore Fedyor knows in smug vindication that he is, in fact, correct. "We're real soldiers now and everything."

"Get off," Ivan says, after several moments too long, "my lap."

"Actually? No." Fedyor snuggles closer. "Because you want to know what I think, Sakharov? I think you secretly like me. More than that, I think you want to fuck me. So bad that it makes you look stupid."

Ivan stares at him. Fedyor stares at himself (you know, metaphorically). Even with three cups of liquid courage, that is more than he has ever pushed it before, and he winces and braces himself for his heart to abruptly stop. Still, it doesn't. Ivan's muscles are coiled as tightly as steel wire. His gaze flicks over Fedyor's head at the other partying young Grisha -- who, probably for their own welfare, haven't noticed anything. He doesn't move for a final instant. The entire world hangs and waits.

Then, all at once, Ivan gets up with a jerk, dumping Fedyor ignominiously off his lap and onto the floor. Fedyor hits with a thump, too surprised to catch himself, but he doesn't have long to wait. Ivan reaches down, seizes him by the wrist, and yanks him to his feet. "Fine, then," he says, in a growl that should not excite Fedyor nearly as much as it does, but here they are. "Come on and stop talking."

(Fedyor moves all his clothes and belongings into Ivan's room two weeks later. Ivan gets back and discovers it already finished, grumbles helplessly for a few hours, and then gives in. They have been together ever since.)

#anonymous #ask #heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #this has been sitting in my inbox a while (apologies)#but the fivan gifset earlier made me go 'yknow. reasons.'#i also have the other one (possibly also from you?) about their wedding night #which i meant to do a while ago and then uh #did not (again apologies)#we will see

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masterqwertster · 26 days

Note

From the Snuggles and Hugs prompt list, how about "sharing a blanket" for any CR characters? Hope you feel better soon!

Taking it to my High Seas Hells AU

Imogen stirs as knitted warmth is draped over her shoulders.

“Deanna?” she murmurs, eyes fluttering open.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just, it’s getting a bit chilly, and I figured you could use the extra blanket,” Deanna apologetically explains.

“It’s fine,” Imogen waves her off, pulling the blanket securely around her shoulders as she observes the Green Cabin. “Where’s Ashton?”

“On shift at the helm,” Deanna easily replies. “You need them for something?”

“No, no,” Imogen says with a yawn. “Just… wanted to know he wasn’t gettin’ into trouble.”

“With your mom?” Deanna knowingly asks.

Imogen huffs a sigh. “Yeah, with my mom.”

“...I really– I just don’t know what to do with her,” Imogen continues after a few breaths, lamenting. “She’s my momma, but I don’t know her. And honestly, it doesn’t feel like she wants to know me.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t know what you’re apologizing for. At least you’re not insisting that your kids be the same as when you left them,” Imogen grumbles sourly. It takes a moment for the words to actually process in her mind, causing her to flinch even as the look of hurt flashes over Deanna’s face.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t mean that. You didn’t choose to leave ‘em. It’s totally different,” Imogen mumbles, eyes averted.

“...You wanna have a real conversation about that?” Deanna tentatively offers. “‘Cause I gotta be honest, seeing you with your estranged, disappeared-before-you-could-really-remember-her mom has really had me thinking about my relationship –or, well, complete lack of one, really– with my kids lately. And I think it would help to sort of hear the other end of it, ya know? For both of us.”

Imogen looks at the nervous gnome before her, one of the most motherly figures she’s ever had in her life, and nods, opening up an arm to invite the smaller woman to join her under the blanket.

Nestled together under the blanket, Deanna begins, “So I know that twenty-five-ish years is way, way less than the two hundred years I was gone, dead. But, it’s still the kind of time in which a kid is going to become an adult, and maybe start a family. Like, I know my kids have their own families now. I’m glad they do. Which I guess is why I feel so weird about walking back into their lives. They’ve made it this far without me, so why should I walk back in and maybe mess things up?”

“...I get that. I think,” Imogen contemplatively says. “I mean, you’re tryin’ to avoid what my momma is doin’: comin’ in here and actin’ like she knows what’s best for me and what kinda changes I should make to get my life ‘on track.’

“…But Deanna, I would love to just have my momma be someone I can get to know, to let her find a spot in my life that I’m not gonna hate. I spent so long as a kid dreamin’ of my momma showin’ up one day. Dreamin’ about how she’d love me, the kind of person she would be.

“Even if she sure as shit ain’t livin’ up to any of it now, considerin’ she just keeps pushin’ me away, sayin’ ‘later. Once my oh-so-important-and-mysterious mission is done,’” Imogen derisively snorts.

“I think that’s what I hate most about her,” Imogen realizes. “That she could talk to me about whatever she’s up to, but she won’t, because it’s supposedly better that way. That I ain’t worth gettin’ to know unless whatever problem she’s facin’ is solved first.”

The young sorceress turns to face the resurrected cleric.

“I think, if you’re waitin’ to find yourself in these new times before talkin’ to your kids, Deanna, you’re goin’ about it wrong. Make them a part of findin’ yourself,” she fervently pleads, taking the older woman’s hands. “At least Send to them to let them know that knowin’ you is a choice they’ve got. Don’t– don’t leave ‘em waitin’ for forever.”

“Okay,” Deanna shakily breathes out, nearly as swamped with emotion as Imogen. “I won’t leave them waiting. Tha-Thanks for helping me find the courage, the reason, to not keep them waiting.”

And they hug, a mother who hasn’t known her children for most of their lives and a daughter who hasn’t known her mother for most of her life.

#MQ&A #snuggles and hugs prompt #MQfic #MQ AU machine #high seas hells au

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desperate-daydream · 1 year

Text

💥MCU

little Peter and the Ravagers

I recently discovered Ravagers-family and now you’ll see some brainrot I’m having through this. Here are a few headcanons that I have, especially featuring baby Peter (yes, I’m calling an eight year-old a baby).

Peter - after some time when he starts to trust the crew more and more - starts to be his clingy self and is usually seen either grabbing someones hand/ jacket/pants or being carried around on their backs/shoulders. They argue doing so because it’s practical to not loose the little Terran that can get in trouble and hurt either him or others easily, even when it’s often Peter who initates the rides by just climbing up his newest victim. After some time it becomes routine for them and - even though they would never admit it - they grow fond of the wild and clingy Terran who seems so mesmerized by everything he sees and is allowed to try out.

addition: Peter was just a child when they got him from earth. The emotional effect of losing his mom - the person he loved the most -, the easily overcoming exhaustion that kids can get after a day and his body as well as mind needing to get used to his new suroundings lead to him being tired quickly and eventually falling asleep. When that happens one of them - usually Yondu, Kraglin, Yullk or Oblo - picks him up rather carefully to carry him around until he wakes up or they can put him into bed.

Peter is a wild and loud boy. When he gets a tiny bit older and more comfortable he starts running, jumping and dancing around the ship setting everyone else into a state of terror that the little Terran could dash around a corner at any moment with no care about them, crazy moves and a high singing voice. And it’s even worse for them - or that’s what they say at least - when he tries to get them to join his dancing and singing. He got almost everyone he asked to do it except Yondu who just gave him the usual look of don’t you even dare everytime he tried. But when he was sure no one was looking he sometimes allowed himself to move his leg, hand or head to the rythm (Kraglin actually saw it from time to time but swore for his own safety to never mention it).

speaking of Kraglin, he somehow becomes something like a brother to Peter. Some think it’s because he looks a bit like a Terran too or because he’s one of the seemingly youngest crew members or because he is in the closer circle of their captain and therefore also Peter who hovers around Yondu a lot - but they never know. So for whatever reason, Peter elected him as one of his most trusted people on the ship and much to the other’s dismay he also becomes Peter’s partner in crime. They pull a lot of pranks that more often than not also happen to be dangerous for themself too - especially considering the not very happy reactions of the other members on the ship. Yondu sometimes scolds them a bit but usually he views it as not his problem but rather something that his men have to work out themself (he also can’t get himself to properly punish the little Terran so he decides to not even try it and get suspicion).

here comes a headcanon of mine (actually it’s confirmed and canon in the comics) that Peter’s bisexual. He didn’t have the full impact of earth’s shitty society regarding that topic but there was still much he had already experienced which had made clear to him that liking other boys was something he wasn’t allowed to do - like his classmates laughing at the two boys who held hands or his uncle scoffing at the young couple in the grocery store. So when he is a teenager and first grasps the reality of what he’s feeling (and what he’d basically known for much longer when he thinks about it) he tries to ignore it, surpress it and never ever mention it because if it’s seen that bad at earth how bad is it in space. He doesn’t know how this group of aggresive out-laws that became his fairly chaotic family react to something like this. He’s scared at first, stops dancing and singing so much because it might be suspicious when he thinks about it, but that’s when he also starts paying more attention to the others. And he sees Kraglin flirting with literally everyone in that club they are crashing at and those two Ravagers that are clearly more than he’d thought when he hadn’t looked at them that observanlty before. He calms down when he gets more and more clues that they in fact don’t give a shit about that topic. He still isn’t sure if it’s just at the Ravagers like that or if actually most of space is more open than earth. However he eventually starts letting lose again, dances and sings, makes comments and also flirts with who he wants.

#ravagers as family #ravager #peter quill #young peter quill #yondu udonta #kraglin #kraglin obfonteri #oblo #tullk #guardians of the galaxy #marvel #bisexual peter quill #headcanons

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gt-daboss · 9 months

Text

Glossed Over (1/2)

Warnings: Angst and very light fear play

2.7k words

“Cabasa, would you get your sister, please? Dinner’s almost ready,” Ocarin called out to his youngest son. Cabasa’s thin, knife-like ears perked up hearing his dad ask for Tonette, the young Taur loved his younger sister to death and always jumped at any opportunity to hang out with her.

“Sure!” Cabasa called, already on his way down the hall to his sister's room, intentionally quieting his footsteps as he approached the slightly open door. Silencing his breathing, he became nearly undetectable from human senses as he approached his sister, engrossed in her studying.

Cabasa nearly dropped his cover, a sigh almost escaping his lips as he looked down with confusion and distaste at what his sister was doing. She studies more than me for heaven's sake, sometimes I swear she likes these books more than her own family.

“Tone,” he spoke, smirking as he saw his sister jump from the spook he gave her. “Dad says dinner’s ready.”

“Ah hell, Cab! Anyone ever taught you how to knock? You made me drop my pen!” She laughed as she turned around in her chair, lazily looking up at her giant brother.

“I know how to knock, this is just funner.”

He was barely holding back his laugh now, his sister narrowed her eyes looking up at him. He slowly lowered his hand palm up in front of her, an unspoken ask of ‘Can I pick you up?’ in their household.

“Sorry, not right now, I'm busy. I’ve been trying this question for the past 20 minutes but I still don’t get it.” She said, refocusing her attention back on the problem at hand. This time, Cabasa couldn’t hold back his sigh, a frown slowly growing on his face

“Why do you need to learn all this dumb school stuff anyways? I know Dad wants you to learn it but if you’re never gonna use it you should just forget all that boring stuff and spend more time with me.” Cabasa smiled at the thought. Tonette on the other hand did the opposite, a scowl now present.

“Who says it's useless? You learn the same stuff in school, and Dad says-” She began defensively, only to be cut off by her older brother's louder voice.

“Dad only wants you to learn that stuff so you have something to do while we’re at school or work. When I’m home, we can actually do fun stuff.”

But I want to learn it! Why is it useful when you and Dad study, but when I try I’m just wasting my time! She wanted to shout, his words hitting her like a truck. Even though he didn’t intend for them to be hurtful, they had fueled the fire of an idea she had been feeling quite recently.

“Fine, whatever… thanks for the help,” she muttered, turning away from her notes and stepping into her brother's hand, giving his fingers a good kick once she was situated. Cabasa’s hand awkwardly stilled for a moment, before rising up and exiting the door heading toward the kitchen.

Damnit, she's mad at me again for some reason… I don’t get her sometimes, it's like she hates fun, I would be happy if I never had to go to school again, but Tone, she just… ugh… His brain started to hurt.

Looking down at his hands, his sister wouldn’t even look at him. Sucking in a deep breath, he knew he needed to apologize. While he didn’t know what for, hopefully asking her would get his answer. Brushing Tonette’s shoulder with his thumb, he whispered.

“Hey Tone, I’m sorry for what happened back there. I just don’t get why you like those books so much,” he confessed, albeit a little nonchalantly. Tonette only gave him a side eye before choosing to ignore him outright.

Of course, you don’t get it! You get to be good at everything you do! There's no way I can compete with a Taur like you or Dad, just let me have this. She bit her tongue, despite the hurt she felt keeping these emotions bottled up for so long, she didn’t want to admit her weakness to them, they wouldn’t understand. How could any of them understand what it's like to be a human?

“Hey, kids! Tone, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Ocarin joked from the kitchen counter. Glossed over.

“Hey Dad, sorry for being busy,” She sheepishly apologized, quickly trying to spin the situation in a positive light, “I’m almost done with that biology textbook though! Just got stuck on Host-Parasite Coevolution, but I’m nearly there.”

“My my, It seems we have a little scientist on our hands,” he chuckled deeply while handing out plates for the two of them. Tonette beamed at her dad, always happy to get his recognition. “And what about you Cab? Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Eh, David and I presented our history project today, but that's about it,” as per usual, school was boring, and he still had to sit through another 2 days of presentations. What a drag, maybe if I brought Tone to school she’d realize how good she really has it. He genuinely considered it for a sec, he was sure his sister would like it, she had practically been begging their father ever since Cabasa had started going. Going to a real school instead of studying through books alone would probably help her learn better too, not to mention it’d probably at least cure some of his boredom.

A little movement out of the corner of his eye diverted that train of thought, his sister adjusting herself in front of the enormous plate in front of her. She looked so small, he couldn’t bare seeing her hurt, it was up to her and Dad to protect her.

No, he wouldn’t take her tomorrow. It's for her own good.

****

“Does anyone have any questions for Trikiti? If not, I think we might have time for just one more presentation today.” Cabasa’s teacher, Mrs. Lemmings absentmindedly flipping through her page of notes spoke. To no one's surprise, not a single hand was raised. Trikiti’s pale face finally regained some color as she realized she was finally done, only for it to whiten again with the teacher's next words.

“Didn’t you say you had something for extra credit, Trikiti?”

Trikiti gulped, nervous about what the class would think of her ‘extra credit.’ Humanity in Taur lands was one of the most controversial topics these days, Trikiti would have never dreamed of bringing the kid to class normally, but with her grade tanking in this class, her parents had threatened to take away her human, Max, if she didn’t do well enough,

Sighing, she reached for her backpack and pulled out a live human boy, holding him in a tight grip for the whole class to see, her claws very close to his body. Everybody was surprised, most not having seen a live human in person before, they all gawked at the frail human in Trikiti’s fist.

“He’s not trained very well, b-but he's very smart,” She trailed off, everyone around her still in shock, Cabasa most of all. Never before had he seen another human besides his sister before, and this one looked… Are those finger bruises on him?

“Say hello, c'mon little guy…” she said, lightly squeezing the human's stomach, causing him to wince. Cabasa felt sick.

“What the hell… what the hell is this,” Cab whispered over to his best friend, David, barely believing his eyes.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, I think that's a human, look at its round ears,” David whispered back, clearly quite enamored with the boy. Cab could only focus on his friend's words. It? That kid is not an it! Humans are not things they are- They’re people! My sister is not an it!

No longer caring whether he got in trouble or not, he got up from his seat and headed toward the front of the room.

“Uhm Cab-”

“Give him here Trikit’, he’s not your pet, he's a person,” he spoke firmly, splaying his hand in front of the shorter Taur girl expectantly. Trikiti looked surprised, mirroring the small human boy's face before growing defensive.

“W-what? What the hell is your problem? You’re scaring my human! G-go get your own and leave me alone.”

“He’s not anybody's ‘human’ Trik, if anybody is scar-”

“Cabasa! That is well enough,” both students were interrupted by their teacher sternly glaring at them. “Trikiti, you know we do not allow humans on school grounds, and Cabasa, it is not your place to intervene.”

“But-”

*RIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG*

They were all interrupted by the sound of the end-of-school bell, Cabasa nearly continued his point but his teacher spoke first.

“Class is dismissed, Trikiti, put that human away, if I see it again I won't hesitate to call your parents and the principal, understood?” Mrs. Lemmings said. Trikiti quickly nodded, not willing to anger her teacher further. Grabbing the human in one hand and her backpack in the other, she gently stuffed him inside, the human making a little eep’ as the bag was zipped up.

“Cabasa, you-”

The young Taur wasn’t listening, already turning back towards his desk, he grabbed his backpack and stormed out of the room leaving the rest of the class in silence.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Class dismissed! I’ll see you all next week, go home…” the teacher sighed, clearly exasperated at the situation. Trikiti stood awkwardly at the front of the class, not sure if she would be allowed to go home so easily, but these thoughts were for naught as Mrs. Lemmings glared at her. “You too Trikiti.”

The Young taur nearly jumped, but all too quickly shuffled out the door, carrying her backpack and its precious cargo with her. That was a disaster, so much for extra credit. She wanted to get angry at herself, but the reality of the situation started to sink in, what she had done and what this truly meant.

Great… GREAT! I’ve scared Max again. And now Mom’s definitely going to get rid of him. It's not fair, he’s just a little kid! He can't survive on his own.

Is he really any better with you? The thought crossed her mind, making her heart clench as she unconsciously clutched her backpack a little harder. Remembering last night when she hurt him, he was just a child. She had scared a child, and then to make it worse, she forced him to come to class with her today, hold him in her fist, which she knew he hated, all so she could get a good grade.

She almost let herself get swallowed up by her emotions, but in the corner of her eyes, she saw something that might be able to help her. Cabasa. He… he must be good with humans, I mean, he spoke up when I…

Shaking her head, she needed to talk to him. Maybe… maybe if he wasn’t too mad, he could help her. Not wanting to cause another scene, Trikiti silently followed after him.

*****

“Cab” a faint, faraway voice called out to him. Cabasa was too lost in his own thoughts to think clearly, much less hear the distant calling.

“Cab!” He froze, he knew that voice, Trikiti followed me. The slow fire bubbling in his body began to rage once again as he remembered what had happened at school, how this girl showed a clear disregard for the human's safety and wellbeing, how she held up his bruised body, talking about him as if he were just an animal. And now she wanted to talk to him like nothing ever happened.

“What the hell do you want, make it quick because I am this close to losing it,” Cabasa growled. Trikiti, for her credit, only looked surprised for a moment, before averting her gaze to the ground, with a look that almost looked… ashamed?

“Cabasa, please I-”

“No, you know what Trik, I don’t even know why I’m giving you a chance, people like you don’t-”

“Cabasa please stop, you’re scaring Max” finally speaking up for herself, she clutched her bag tightly. She keeps him in a bag? No, he couldn’t yell again, she was right after all, his anger had gotten the better of him again. Tone always hated it when he and his dad fought, humans couldn’t take the loud noises as well as Taurs could. Last time he yelled in front of her, he ended up making her cry and ended up having to apologize profusely before she came to like him again. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he spoke again.

“What. Do. You. Want?” seeing that he had somewhat calmed down, Trikiti released her grip on her backpack and tried to face Cab.

You- in class you talked like- It seemed like,” Trikiti started, but just as soon stopped, barely able to hold herself together. “Max hates me. I know he does. Every time I enter the room he tries to hide, every time I ask him a question, or try to touch him, or even look at him, he looks at me like I’m going to hurt him. I know I’m not… I know I’m not…” She paused, a singular tear rolled down her cheek. Making up her mind, she gently lifted her backpack off her shoulder and lowered it to the ground.

“Please take him, he deserves to be with somebody who he feels safe with, he’s just a kid.”

Of all the things Trikiti could have said, this was the last one Cabasa would have expected. His dad had prepared him for situations like this, people who treated humans like trash couldn’t be reasoned with, they believed they were inherently superior by virtue of their race and that was period. Cabasa’s stony visage started to waver as her curveball of emotions continued.

“My- my mom said I wasn’t allowed to keep him with me unless my grades went up, so I’m going to have to get rid of him anyways, but… but it's not right that he has to go out on the streets because of my faults.” Trikiti was speaking from her heart now, finally able to find someone who understood humans like she did or tried to understand. She lowered her voice. “Please, he deserves better than me.”

Cabasa stood still, looking at his classmate in shock, his thoughts on her taking a complete 360 from the presentation to now. Shaking away his shock, he reached down to retrieve the human, unzipping the bag, he found the sleeping human, most likely passed out from exhaustion. Carefully scooping him up into his hands, he felt so light, even lighter than his sister. Cabasa met the eyes of Trikiti once more, not sure if this was some trick, but the look in her eyes showed she was serious.

“You did the right thing,” He whispered, waking up the human at this time would only make this whole exchange harder, even if Max didn’t like Trikiti, that didn’t mean he would instantly warm up to Cabasa either.

“Wait,” Trikiti whispered. Cabasa froze, would this be where she tells him it was all a lie? “His favorite food is meeloberries, I- I had some for him in the bag if you want them.” Cab eyed her suspiciously, not willing to chance anything.

“Thanks, but keep them, my family keeps hoards for my sister, she loves the damn things,” his voice grew a little fonder at the mention of his sister. Meanwhile, Trikiti’s head was spun on its head, Meeloberries are his sister's favorite food? They’re poisonous to Taurs, not to mention I’ve never heard of Cab having a sister… does, does that mean…?

“Your sister is a human,” she whispered, not noticing she spoke out loud until Cab glared at her. “Oh, sorry sorry! I’ll leave now.” Without another word, she grabbed her now humanless bag and scurried off toward her home. Cab meanwhile, did the same. Looking down at the human in hand, he still slept soundly throughout the entire exchange. You must be exhausted, gently stroking Max with his thumb, he started walking to his own home, Well Tone, looks like you’ll be getting a roommate.

Hey all, it's been a loooong time since I touched this universe. and that's a crying shame, cuz I really do love it, I'm just a slow writer. but yeah, I hope you enjoyed the first part of this two-parter. I can't wait to write the payoff for the buildup in this chapter, as per last time, the 2nd part is going to get a lot angstier, but that's what you're here for right :P

Anyways, thanks for reading, comments and questions really do make my day, so feel free to do so (or don't!)

Next Chapter

#giant/tiny #gt community #g/t #giant tiny #size difference #g/t writing #male giant #gt fluff #gt angst #gt fearplay #gt writing #gentle giant #giant #giant / tiny #giantess

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docholligay · 8 months

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Ep 5: Jackie

Hello! This is about up to Episode 5 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY episode 5 of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond the fifth episode, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me. Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open

I don’t think we’re supposed to love Jackie in this episode, and boy does that work for me. I am who I am, and I come bundled in with my own assumptions, values, adn experiences, and with all of that as knowledge, I say: Jackie is fucking lazy, and I would be losing my absolute shit if I had to deal with her.

I live a more communal life than many, and while many people have a very romanticized view of what that means, as a practical matter it means that everyone pulls their weight. Sometimes that involves doing jobs that are not so much fun or are difficult or whatever, but in all cases it means that you gotta work. Jewlet helps set the table, for God’s sake. We all have a piece.

And I’m not even in a situation where SURVIVAL ITSELF is at issue. We see that all the rest of the team is hard at work doing the things that are necessary for them to survive, and they are getting tired of Jackie’s bullshit, and for good reason. Jackie was a leader for a specific time and place, and that specific time and place was within the social norms and softhanded lifestyle of New Jersey. She has never had to measure out the things she is capable of doing, never had to do something physical and not fun. There’s a lot oif fair criticism of all the hard work you have to do as a kid in the country, but I tell you what, mucking out a stall at a young age, learning how to chop wood,. All of that teaches you that yes in fact you are capable of doing work. She’s even bad at GETTING WATER OUT OF A LAKE. ANd yes, water’s very heavy, and yes they should look for a large branchthey could carved to hold it over your shoulder, but at the very least, Jackie could walk out a little bit into the lake to lessen the chance of sediment.

In Jersey, she was smart, but here she has no goddamn sense, and the rest of the team is having a crisis of faith with her. Jackie is no longer any kind of a leader.

Shauna is showing so much love in trying to help her find something that she’s capable of doing, of trying to make her a part of the team when she is very obviously separating herself from the work of staying alive. Shauna has seen the way the girls are looking at her, and she knows Jackie may become a sacrifice, either figurative, or, maybe even at this point, literal, if she doesn’t prove that she has use and value. She could end up as broken from the team as Allie, for the crime of her own weakness.

On the one hand, Jackie knows that she’s terrible at this, and that she doesn’t like it and that she’s not cut out for it, but on the other hand, she is absolutely incorrect to characterize everyone else as “enjoying this boring back to the land bullshit” liking something is totally fucking irrelevant at this point. It’s what you need to do in order to survive. THe other girls understand that. But Jcakie can’t get with the program.

Shauna tells her she’s so great at cheering people up and making people feel like things are going to be okay just by showing up, but is she actually good at those things? I think if she were actually great for morale, the girls wouldn’t resent her for being so lazy in the physical department, because frankly if she were providing a necessary service like that, they wouldn’t be thinking it at all. What does she do when Shauna is pulling for something she’s better at? Makes her feel small and useless. Even though Shauna is putting in far more work than she has since day one.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this” Think very carefully about your other option, Jackie.

#Doc watches Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets S1 E5

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thegreatcaptainusopp · 4 months

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The Seer

Ao3 Link

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter 5: The Children With the Second Sight

The morning sun rises cold and misty, and Franky is ready to fight.

It’s been a difficult few weeks, some of the most since he’s joined the crew. Thriller Bark had been difficult in its own right, draining the way that all big and complicated battles were draining. This, though. This is challenging in a completely different way.

Franky hadn’t realized until he’d properly joined how…young everybody was on the crew. It wasn’t until they were a few days at sea that it had properly sunk in that he had pledged himself to the safety and well being of a group of teenagers, which is a responsibility he takes seriously. He isn’t a leader anymore, but he’s still called upon to help shoulder some pretty heavy emotional burdens, and he’s completely okay with that.

When the kids need him, he’s there. He’s happy to do it, happy to give this extraordinary group of young people all the love and support they deserve, the love and support they clearly hadn’t had before now.

And now, they need him more than ever. Chopper is constantly anxious, Sanji on the verge of a breakdown, Nami unable to be alone, Zoro hunched over like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and Luffy clearly trying his best to keep them all together. He’s there, through all of it, all of the fear and anxiety and worry.

And then, of course, there’s Usopp. Franky worries about him constantly, and hopes against hope they’re not too late for him. Whatever that could mean, at this stage.

Now, though? Now, Franky can do more than offer his support, his shoulder to cry on. Now, he can actually do something, kick ass and take names and put the crew back together with his own hands. He’s always been good at fixing things.

He knows they’ve given him the most important job, of actually finding Usopp, for a reason. He’s honored to think that they find him dependable enough to do that job, and he’s willing to forgo some ass kicking if it means justifying his crew’s faith in him.

And it’s this thought that echoes in his mind as he spots, finally, the harsh lines of the ship that they had seen so many weeks ago come up on the horizon. It glides almost silently over the relatively calm waves drawing nearer and nearer to the Flying Fish Raiders base. Franky has to admire the rather…unusual design. It’s almost built more like a house than a ship: narrow and tall, and slightly ominous.

It’s gonna be nice to take them by surprise for a change: they’ve parked the Sunny behind a section of the base that’ll keep them hidden, and the plan is to jump out just as the Vance’s ship passes by. Easy peasey.

Luffy’s face is split open by a huge smile, as it almost always is, but today’s has an air of promise to it: of determination, of violence. Franky hopes he can wait for long enough to follow the plan as is. For this plan, timing is everything.

Robin meets his eye: she clearly has the same concern, continuing to dart glances back at Luffy, and at Zoro and Sanji as well. Franky is grateful for her, and for their newest addition of Brook as well. Between the three of them, they can corral the teenagers around them with more relative ease.

The Vance ship draws closer, so close that Franky can hear the noise of activity on the ship, can smell the salt kicked up by the waves within. As one, the group turns to Luffy, waiting for his signal.

They don’t have to wait long. The second Luffy sees them all turn to him, he takes it as permission. He unfurls, drawing himself up as high as he can go. His smile deepens, gets more determined. “Now!” He roars, extending his arms towards them all. Chopper ducks under them, running towards his quarters, while the rest of them gather in grim anticipation.

Luffy draws back, then shoots them all into the air, headed straight towards the Vance ship. Franky’s chest drops right down to his stomach at the flight (it never gets any easier) and then next thing he knows, they’ve crash landed right into the middle of the deck, stunning the once active ship into complete silence.

The silence only takes hold for a moment before they spring into action: Luffy attacks almost as soon as he’s upright again, tossing Gum-Gum pistols at the unsuspecting group, catapulting a large number of them into the water. “Go!” He roars, and Franky instantly sets off from the rest of the group, setting off the canons in his hands to clear the path ahead.

He hears someone roar “we’re being boarded” before sending the air around him grow heavy, and feeling a clang of weapons meeting in his bones. He turns to see Zoro, sword crossed with the red-haired man’s invisible weapon, a grim smile on his face. “You’re not getting me this time,” Zoro says, swinging his other sword.

“How the fuck are you here?” The man says in frustration, raising his invisible weapon.

Franky swears as a sea of identical bodies quickly pops up in front of him. He lets off a quick shot, dispatching a group of them into a puff of smoke. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, but he can’t let the clones stand in his way…

He sees the clones start to pop out of existence in front of him, one by one. Surprised, he turns to see Robin, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Move!” She tells him, as another group of clones is slapped by multiple arms, disappearing all at once.

He nods at her and keeps going, seeing Brook with his sword drawn at the corner of his eye. They’re probably keeping Usopp below somewhere, he tells himself, dashing towards the interior of the ship. Just grab him and get out.

He screeches to a halt as another man materializes in front of him, arm up. This man is new, and Franky doesn’t know how to react to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” The man asks him, expressionless.

Franky’s about to mow through him before Sanji runs in front of him, throwing out a kick. “Go!” He yells as his leg makes contact with the man’s arm, and Franky ducks around the two and goes forward. As he passes, he sees Sanji’s leg bounce off, and the man’s arm ripples, turning black and shiny.

He hears Sanji swear, and he picks up the pace, hoping to find Usopp before any other obstacle gets in his way…

Out of nowhere, a familiar feeling hits at him and he gasps, knees buckling and he’s halted in his tracks. Oh no, he thinks frantically. Not now…

He looks up and, as expected, Vance himself is striding out onto the deck, expression thunderous. “How did you get here?” He asks, voice echoing strangely in the space.

Luffy steps out in front of him, fists clenched. Franky can see the lines of his back shaking minutely, but he doesn’t waver. “You’re Captain Vance?” Luffy asks, stone faced.

Vance pins him with a look. “Straw Hat Luffy,” He says, voice distorting further. “I can guess why you’re here. And you should turn back. You will find you have no more use for your former crew member.”

Luffy’s back straightens, lines smoothing out. Franky sees the shaking cease completely. “Shut up,” He says, deadly, before revving back for a punch.

Franky is suddenly released from the strange hold, and gasps back into movement. He shakes himself back to his goal and barrels forward into the ship.

Usopp knew the second he heard the sounds of battle outside that his crew had found him.

It hadn’t been difficult to figure out, not at all. He’d known already that they were on their way. He doesn’t know if it was because he’d…seen it, before, or because he had always known, like he knew his mother’s voice, that his crew would find him eventually. But still, the sounds send a jolt of joy and adrenaline that goes right to his spine.

He hops off his cot, wobbling slightly. He’s going to find them, no matter what it takes…

He feels a palm push in his chest. “Sit back down,” Cantor says, deadly serious. With a jolt, he realizes that Vance is no longer in the room: he must’ve slipped out amidst the chaos, and is probably fighting out there right now.

The joy in his stomach ices over into fear. If any of them got hurt trying to protect him…

No. He has to make sure they find him, so they can get out as soon as possible.

Usopp stumbles up again, pushing back against Cantor’s hand. “No,” He says, wobbling forward. “I need to-”

Before he can finish his sentence, he hears the door burst open. He scrambles back, going until he hits wall, and hears a grunt and a loud crash on the other side of the room.

He stands stock-still, arms trembling. He doesn’t know what just happened, but he hopes that whoever it was that came in, that they won’t hurt him.

He hears a sound like a wounded animal, almost a low keen. “Usopp?”

The familiar voice makes him gasp. Franky. Oh my god. Franky.

Franky’s voice spurs him into action, and he pushes back from the wall, stumbling forward, arms reaching out. “Franky,” Usopp sobs out, needing to hear him again. “Franky!”

A hand catches his outstretched arm, curls around it gently. “Usopp,” Franky chokes out, and Usopp feels himself tugged into a hug. Franky arms go around him but squeeze gently, with barely any pressure, like he’s afraid he’s going to break him.

Usopp gently lays the side of his cheek onto Franky’s chest, hearing the lub-dub of his heart. It’s more comforting that anything he’s ever heard in his life.

Franky takes a deep shaky breath, and then another. He pulls back slowly, and Usopp feels a large hand gently touch at the edges of his bandages. “Usopp,” He says quietly, voice full of…some unidentifiable emotion. Usopp wishes he could see his face. “What is…”

Usopp pushes his hand away. “Not now,” He says, desperately wanting to forget it ever happened, needing to get to Chopper to fix this as soon as possible. “We need to get out of here, Franky.”

This seems to snap Franky back into action. “Yeah,” He says, tugging at Usopp’s arm. “Let’s go, bro, everyone’s waiting for us.”

Usopp stumbles forward after Franky, head whirring. “Okay,” He says, clutching onto Franky’s arm. He suddenly wants to hear Luffy’s voice so badly that it hurts.

“Wait,” Is all the warning he gets before he feels Franky tug at him more, then feels another arm curl under his lugs. Suddenly, he’s lifted off the ground, cradled in Franky’s large arm. “We’re gonna need to move quick, bro,” He hears, a little above his head. “So hang on, okay?”

Franky turns and starts running, and Usopp breathes in the fresh air as they quickly make their way outside. He’d missed the feeling of the breeze on his face, the smell of salt in the air. The sounds of battle fill the air, and Usopp has no idea who’s there, who’s fighting, who’s winning.

He feels Franky skid to a stop. “We’ve reached the edge,” He says, narrating for Usopp’s benefit. “I just need to build us a quick way back, okay bro? Won’t take a second.”

Usopp remembers the master feats of bridge engineering he’d witnessed in Thriller Bark, and nods his head. “I know,” He says, feeling Franky gently place him by a railing. He sits there, straining his ears and trying to figure out the sounds of the fighting, and before he knows it he’s hoisted back into Franky’s arms. “It’s ready,” He hears, and Franky starts running once again, steps sure and confident, before landing down and Usopp can smell that he’s back home.

The familiarity of the smell of the Sunny takes his breath away for a moment. He’d never realized how distinct the smell is, like tangerines and metal and love.

“We’re back,” Franky says, and Usopp feels him readjust as his arm comes up. “I’m just gonna send up a flare, to let everyone know they can come back, okay?”

Even though Franky had warned him, Usopp can’t help but flinch when the flare goes off. It sounds so loud next to him.

“Okay,” Franky says, and Usopp feels him take off again. “We’re going to Chopper now, alright?”

Usopp nods, clutching at Franky’s shirt. This is what he’s been waiting for. “Please,” He says, feeling Franky open a door and smelling the familiar smell of medicine and comfort.

“Usopp!” He hears, and Franky sets him down as an excited voice below him draws nearer. “Are you-”

The voice cuts off, as if swallowed, and Franky gently pushes him forward. “He needs you, Chopper,” He says. “I’m gonna go and help everyone else for a little, okay? Please let us know how he’s doing when you’re done.”

He hears a small “okay,” before Franky breezes out of the room, and Usopp is left with one of the people he trusts most in the entire world.

“Chopper,” Usopp says, feeling, finally, salt sting at what were once his eyes. “I really, really missed you.”

“Usopp,” He hears, choked off, a gentle hoof coming at his knee. “I-I missed you too. Just…come here, okay? Let me…let me look at this.”

Usopp nods, and places his trust in Chopper’s small hands.

Franky’s been running on autopilot.

He doesn’t remember much after bursting into the Vance’s medical quarters, after seeing Usopp curled at the wall, white bandages covering his eyes. It’s just a blur of getting Usopp to the Sunny and sending up the flare.

He knows he needs to pull it together. The crew is relying on him to get them out. After that, he can lose it.

He runs back to the deck, hoping against hope that Luffy managed to get them all out, before he hears a series of screams and sees the entire crew crash land right at his feet, piling together in a heap.

“It never gets easier,” Zoro grumbles, struggling out from the bottom of the pile. It’s clear his injuries are still getting to him.

Franky quickly counts them, nods in approval. “We’re out,” He says, then runs to the canons. “Okay! Taking out the Vance ship now!”

He runs through the image of the ship in his head, identifying its weaknesses, thinking of how to stall it in the water. “Right!” He says, making sure the canon is loaded. “I’ll take care of this in a second…”

He quickly aims, the fires the canons at the ship. It take him a couple tries but he manages it, breaking the ship quickly and easily.

He thinks vaguely for a second how Usopp could’ve taken out the spots in one shot, then shakes the thought away. “Sanji!” He bellows, seeing the cook pop up next to him in a second. “Take over, okay? Just in case they come after us. I’m gonna get us out of here.”

“Did you see that?” He hears Luffy say enthusiastically, but there’s no time. He has to run down to prepare a Coup de Burst. They need to get out of here.

He quickly checks soda storage (there’s enough), then sets up the process, one he feels like he’s done hundreds of times by now. “Okay!” He says, “Let’s get out of here!”

He hears a cheer go around the ship as the burst of energy rockets it forward. A scream sounds in the distance, from the direction of the Vance ship, and Franky smiles grimly. Good, he thinks. I hope whatever that was, that it hurt. Asshole.

He makes his way back to the others, dread pooling in his gut. One job done, and now comes the other, and it’s one he desperately wishes he didn’t have to do.

He knows the implications of what he saw on the Vance ship, of the bandages around Usopp’s eyes, of the way he can barely move coordinated, of the way he wobbles weakly in place. He knows what it all implies, but he doesn’t, can’t know for sure. Not until Chopper confirms it.

Still. The crew probably need some sort of warning. Just in case the worst is true. They need to prepare for the news. And Franky is the only one who can break it to them.

As he approaches, Zoro turns to him, gaze piercing. “How’s Usopp?” He asks, direct. “Got him out okay?”

Franky, faced with the question he hadn’t prepared for, hesitates. What does he say to that?

Zoro’s eyes narrow. “Franky?” He asks, slow and deliberate. “What is it?”

Everyone’s silent now, everyone listening intently. Even Sanji has wandered back from his post at the canons, clearly now far enough that his presence there is no longer necessary.

And they’re all staring at Franky with slowly growing worry and fear in their eyes. He’s always been good at fixing things, but how can he ever even start to fix this?

“He’s fine,” Franky says, trying to regain control of the situation. “I got him out, he’s with Chopper now,” He hesitates. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Nami asks, voice rising. “What is it, Franky?”

They need to know. They just do. “When I found him,” Franky says. “He had…bandages, around his eyes. That’s all I know. Chopper’s with him now, he’ll be able to give us a better idea of what’s going on.”

There’s a brief, horrified, silence, then…

“What does that mean?” Luffy looks at him, teeth gritted. “What do you mean, Franky?”

“Just what I said,” Franky says. “Usopp’s eyes were covered with bandages. That could mean anything, or it could mean nothing. He didn’t tell me anything, and I didn’t get a chance to ask. But, just in case…we need to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Luffy asks.

“For if Usopp…”

“Shut up,” Sanji says, teeth gritted. “Don’t say it.”

“Sanji,” Franky begins, helpless. “We don’t know anything at this stage. We can’t really make a decision on if…”

“I don’t care,” Sanji says, nostrils flaring. “Don’t speak anything into existence. If we don’t know anything, we don’t know.”

“He’s right,” Zoro says, to the shock of everyone in attendance. “We don’t know anything. Only Chopper does. We’ll wait for him.”

Luffy suddenly bursts forward, towards Chopper’s office. “I’ll check,” He says, a little desperately. “I’ll see if…”

“Whoa,” Franky intercepts Luffy, holding onto him tight. “Let’s not bother Chopper, okay? I told him to give us the news as soon as possible. He’ll have some for us very shortly, I’m sure.”

There’s another short silence. There’s a numbness now, the celebratory air long gone.

“We have him now,” Franky feels compelled to add. “That’s the most important thing. We can work with everything else.”

This seems to work, as ever, on Luffy. “Yeah,” Luffy says. “We got him back, like we promised. We’ll just work on whatever comes next.”

Luffy says it like a promise. Franky knows that he’ll keep it.

Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

#one piece #op #usopp #one piece fic #op fic #speaks

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aurumacadicus · 2 years

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Fictober 13/31 -- “I don’t want you to do that.”

I was gonna save this for a different prompt, but this was really the only one I could get to fit, so. “Why is Steve the one pointing out it’s scummy when he couldn’t even tell Tony that Bucky killed his parents” WE’RE BETTER THAN THE MCU HERE. It’s over 1K so look out for under the cut!

Somehow, it was Clint who spilled the beans. No one had really expected it, and by the look on his face, even he looked startled that he’d exposed himself.

“What did you just say?” Lottie asked, turning to give him her full attention. Her brows furrowed together, an almost scowl—stern, not willing to accept a lie. “What did you just say to me?”

Clint opened and closed his mouth, helpless, before he finally sighed. His shoulders sagged with the motion, dropping under the weight of his shame. “I said, I’m surprised you don’t wear more tank tops. Because you don’t seem to really care about your appearance. So I was surprised you were embarrassed of your stab scars. Because. I’m. An asshole.”

Lottie tipped her head, staring at him, before her eyes darted over the rest of the Avengers. Apparently, she got whatever answer she was seeking, because her eyebrows dropped into a real scowl, angry and embarrassed. She stood up, hands gripping into fists. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“We understand, Lottie,” Steve answered hurriedly. “That was scummy. We shouldn’t have—”

“You could have just asked me,” Lottie cut in. “It happened to me. I should be able to tell my story, not—not all these reporters who don’t know me, who were just trying to get dirt so that a senator’s son looked good or bad, depending on what side they were on—”

“Lottie,” Thor began, standing as well.

“I’m not going to change, you don’t have to get ready to corral me again,” Lottie exclaimed angrily, voice slowly growing louder and louder. “I can control it! This is why I didn’t want you to—You’re already treating me differently! Nothing about me has changed! I’m still me, still Lottie, I bake cookies and sew dresses and read books—NO,” she screamed as Thor approached her. “I’m not changing I can control it I don’t need you to—”

Thor reached out, wrapped his arms around her before she could dodge, and yanked her into his chest. He held tight, burying his nose in her hair. “You’re still you,” he assured her when she froze against him. “And you’ve always given very good hugs.”

Lottie stayed stiff against him, trembling with emotion, too overwhelmed to speak. Finally, though, she let out a sob, sagging against him. Her hands came up behind him and dug into his shirt, squeezing tight until her knuckles went white.

Natasha stood from the loveseat and offered it to him, and he gratefully took it, carefully pulling Lottie down on top of him. Once they were seated, she walked over, sitting down beside Clint. He started to get up, felt a knife in his ribs, and gingerly sat back down.

“Do you want to tell us what happened, in your own words?” Tony asked quietly, sitting forward in his seat, and ignoring the shocked glare Bruce shot him. “I should have known better. I know what it’s like to have your story told wrong for you.”

Lottie turned her head, glancing at them through one red eye, then leaned back from Thor with a sniffle, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “How much do you already know?”

“Pretend we don’t know anything,” Natasha replied simply.

Lottie nodded a little, considering. Finally, she said, “I grew up on a working farm. Hops. Berries for local pickers. It was outside a small town. Everyone knew everyone. Because I was so young when my mutation presented itself, and because my parents provided a lot for the school and community, they felt forced to accept me. But over time they realized I wasn’t dangerous, and then my sister presented with a mutation in middle school, and by that time a few other kids had too. I don’t want to say we were accepted with open arms. But. We weren’t considered a big deal, I guess. At least to adults. Our classmates didn’t really care. Kids. You know.”

“It probably helped that you would show off,” Tony offered, remembering their previous conversation. “Nakedness aside.”

At that, the corner of Lottie’s mouth quirked up, almost against her will. “Yeah. Big cats were everyone’s favorites, because I could carry people around on my back. It sort of… sort of cemented my mutant code name, I guess. Everyone started calling me the Queen.”

“Because lions are kings of the jungle?” Clint asked.

“Yeah,” Lottie replied with a shrug. “So they started calling me the Queen, and I sort of ran with it.”

“When you say mutant code name,” Steve began, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Are you talking about like—the X-Men? Did you go to Professor Xavier’s school?”

Lottie let out a bark of laughter. “Ha! No. Oh, I was offered,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr both came to our house to rally me to their side.” She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, lips curving into a smug smile. “When I realized that I’d have to go alone, away from my family, and especially from my twin sister even though she was also a mutant, I didn’t want to go. My dad chased them away when they didn’t like that answer.”

“…Your dad,” Bruce repeated in disbelief. “Your dad chased away Professor X and Magneto.”

“And my mom,” Lottie offered with a blasé shrug.

Natasha leaned forward. “Lottie, are your… are your parents also mutants?”

At that, Lottie seemed to hesitate. She started curling her hair around her finger, like they’d learned she did when she was nervous or thinking. Finally, she said, “Well, my mom isn’t.”

“But your dad could be?” Clint asked, frowning in confusion.

Lottie let out another laugh, not as amused, more scoff-like. “I’m not going to fucking ask him.”

Tony remembered what he’d found in the darkest corners of the SHIELD database. Phil was at least a decade younger than his brother, which meant that Lloyd Weber must have remembered a lot more prejudice against mutants, a lot more hiding, a lot more abuse heaped on them. Maybe even remembered when the Xavier Institute had been opened. The fights between the ‘X-Men’ and ‘the Brotherhood.’

The newer generations seemed to be more open, more welcoming, but you simply didn’t ask people of a certain age if they were a mutant. He’d mention that to the others later, especially Steve, because he didn’t seem to understand, but not in a way where he was going to say so.

“Why do you think they backed off?” Bruce asked, more wondering than wanting an actual answer.

“There’s something about my dad,” Lottie admitted. “I’m not going to say it’s a mutation or anything. Sometimes it’s not that. But my dad… he’s not a man who gets angry. He’s not… a very emotional man. I never thought like he didn’t love me, or anything,” she added quickly. “I know he does. He shows it in his actions, not his words. But when he does get angry. Woof,” she muttered, hunching her shoulders as she started down at her lap. “If I didn’t know better, I would have said the air in our house froze.

“Charles and Erik were both still trying to argue their cases, even though I’d already said no, and I was starting to get to distressed, and… my mom asked them to leave. And when they tried to insist…” She shivered a little at the memory. “Well. Insulting his daughter and his wife. In his house. Quite frankly, I think he would have ripped them both apart with his bare hands if he had the chance, but he just told them once, very firmly, to get the hell out of his house and leave his family alone. They tried to pretend they were leaving because they wanted to, but everyone knew they were scared.”

“I, also, am scared,” Clint declared. “I never want to meet your dad. This sounds like a mistake.”

Lottie shrugged again. “It’s funny you say that, because most people really like my dad.”

“I mean, he helped raise you, so he must be a good man,” Thor said.

Lottie went faintly pink. She coughed awkwardly. “Anyway. That was the backstory.”

“Do you want to be finished for the day?” Bruce asked kindly.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not upset about it anymore. It’s been ten years. Almost eleven,” she added thoughtfully. She shook her head. “I mean, there’s not much to tell that you don’t already know, apparently. My parents wouldn’t let us go to Mutant Pride when we were minors, so the minute Frankie and I were eighteen, we started planning to go. It was up in Portland. We had family there on my mom’s side that said we could stay with them for the weekend. My older sister was coming with us to keep an eye on us. She’s always been pretty protective, so we didn’t think anything of it. So we went to Mutant Pride. We were having fun. There were anti-mutant protestors there, of course, but we knew that would happen. No one knew there was a faction of extremists who meant to kill as many mutants as possible until they attacked. I was one of the luckier victims.”

“That’s something we don’t really know,” Natasha said. “You survived, but was that part of the mutation?”

Lottie scoffed. “My dad’s good with his hands. As soon as Frankie and I decided we were going to Mutant Pride, he started making an umbrella for my older sister. To shade from the sun,” she said, raising a sardonic eyebrow. “As soon as she realized I was in trouble, Laura popped the umbrella end off the handle and started beating my attacker with it. My dad made it out of a police baton.”

Everyone stared at her for a moment, stunned. Finally, though, Thor clapped her on the shoulder with a laugh, nearly knocking her from the couch. “It sounds like your family is made up of very strong, clever people,” he praised as Lottie righted herself. “I shouldn’t have expected any less!”

“Yeah, haha,” Lottie answered weakly. “Ow.”

“The papers couldn’t agree how many times you were stabbed,” Clint said before Thor could get too concerned. “Ranging anywhere from once to a dozen times.”

Lottie blinked at him, confused, before she rolled her eyes. “Ah, that’s because my family didn’t want to tell them, and they couldn’t get it from the hospital, and I was too injured for the police to interview for a while.” She stood, turning to show them her back, and reached over her shoulders to pull the back of her shirt up. “I was only stabbed seven times.”

“Only,” Steve repeated weakly. The scars were even worse, now that he had the story for them—seven puckered marks starting from her shoulder and ending at her mid-back.

“He only really got my lung, and they were able to fix it in surgery,” Lottie continued, as if she wasn’t making the blood drain out of Steve and Bruce’s faces. “Nicked my kidney, too, but only barely, so it healed up fine. I was lucky.”

Not everyone had a kid as old as they were stabbing them, she didn’t say. Nathan Stern had been just freshly nineteen, they’d found in their deep dive—other attackers had been well into their sixties and full of hatred for mutants. Lottie’s attacker had been insecure and scared, had cut himself with the knife and made the handle too slippery to get a good grip, and as soon as her sister had been a target, Laura Weber had turned into an avenging angel. Stern had had to be put into a medically induced coma to survive her retaliation. He’d been lucky, too. Unfortunately.

“And, Phil came and sat with me at night when I wasn’t supposed to have visitors, and he bullied the police,” Lottie sighed, dropping her shirt. “Mental and physical therapy, I’m paranoid now blah blah blah. You know the rest.”

Natasha opened her mouth.

“Yeah,” Clint cut in. “We know the rest.”

Natasha slanted him a sharp look, but he slanted one back, so she sat back in her seat with a sharp nod of reluctant agreement. They could ask about the letters on a different day, when she wasn’t feeling so sharp and prickly, so betrayed that they’d go behind her back. She’d never once seemed like the secretive type, she could admit. They could have simply asked what she’d rather they do and follow her lead, instead of making the decision for her. She needed time to come to terms with what they’d done and decide what to do with that.

She didn’t seem terribly upset about it, now, but they’d learned she was just like the cats she turned into, that way—she hid her hurt away, licked her own wounds, and it was luck to find that she was upset. This had been a breech of trust. They would follow her lead until she decided what to do with it.

#aurumacadicus writes #original character #marvel #fictober

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prophetparadox · 2 years

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DMC OC Week 2022 Day 2: Connections with OCs

(art by @castledvania !)

Well, since last year I did Kay’s connections to the canon cast, I thought it was only fitting that for day two of @dmc-oc-week-specialedition I’d talk about her relationships with other OCs! Like I said before, Kay’s changed a lot in the past year, and she has quite a few relationships with OCs now due to me being involved in the community! Aside from the last character mentioned, these relationships aren’t exactly “canon” to Kay’s storyline. And while there’s a lot of OCs that she’s had interactions with in some form, I decided to stick with those she’s either interacted with in fics (my own or otherwise) or roleplays just to make things easier for myself. I’ve done my best to mention everyone, but if I forgot somebody, my apologies! All the OC owners are credited here, and some of them are probably posting OC Week stuff of their own (not all of them on here, but on their other socials)! If they are, check them out!

Lucanus ( @castledvania ): Lucan might not be the most open with his emotions, but Kay is happy to consider him a friend nonetheless. She respects him as a fighter, and knows that he’s a good guy deep down. And sometimes, she’s able to see sides of him that others don’t. For reasons she can’t explain, something about him makes her feel nostalgic even though they hadn’t met at some earlier point in her life. In some universes, they may even end up as more than just friends…

Raphael (Pampero on Toyhouse): These two are the definition of “complicated relationship”. Raph puts up a front of being an asshole, but Kay knows it’s a farce to try and get her to leave. The two of them are stubborn as hell, unstoppable force meets immovable object. In fact, they’re more similar in ways they aren’t aware of at first. She knows that he needs someone there for him, even if he says otherwise, and wants to help him be the support he so desperately needs. Even if that means having to deal with him constantly trying to fluster her for a laugh. In some universes, they may even end up as more than just friends…

Tilda ( @blacknight-darksky ): Kay thinks Tilda is cool, it’s not every day you get to meet a witch after all! The two of them are close, though they can’t help but worry about their other friends when they do something reckless and stupid. They’ll happily make some good food for everyone, including each other. In some universes, they may end up as even more than friends…

Roman ( @keyboardthenerd ): It was certainly a surprise to learn that Dante had a kid even he didn’t know about, but the moment Kay met Roman, she knew something had happened with them that hadn’t been good in the slightest. She’s always willing to be there for them and offer a shoulder to cry on. She worries about them a lot, especially considering their special interest is the Order of the Sword, but she isn’t about to give up on them. They just need a supportive figure in their life, maybe a lot actually, but Kay doesn’t mind being one.

Saara ( @saarasabaku ): Kay struggles to remember what it’s like for her to have a mother figure in her life, but she thinks Saara is the closest thing she has to one. She feels safe going to her for things, whether it be advice or a hug or to vent about Dante being an idiot. She’s probably accidentally called her “mom” before.

Manticore ( @mrmercer13 ): Kay thinks Manticore is a strange demon, but a good one to be around. The giant of a man is very friend shaped after all, and he’s good at cooking too! Even if he isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, it’s hard to feel upset around the big guy for long and she’s happy to call him her friend!

Gray ( @tseliius ): Kay sees the young maven as a bit of a younger sister. She can’t help but worry about her. She likes listening to them talk about magic and what they do with it, especially when it comes to seeing souls. She only hopes they stay on the right path, and she’s willing to help in whatever way she can.

King (derudevil on Twitter): At first, Kay thought King was kind of a dick. But in time, the human hunter has grown on her, and it turns out he’s not that bad. Dealing with him isn’t always easy, but it beats dealing with Vergil. Besides, considering the rough life he had, she can’t help but respect what he’s managed to achieve.

Siena ( @shadedshadowmc ): Dante’s daughter is a handful, but one that Kay doesn’t mind dealing with. Siena’s a good kid deep down, she cares about her dad a lot after all, but she is a little shit and that’s hard to forget. Even though Kay isn’t fond of being relegated to babysitting (mostly because she wants to be fighting demons, not stay stuck at the office), she does her best to be a supportive figure for the girl.

Avalon (Mine): Hate. Kay feels nothing but hate for the man who ruined everything. Her life, her family, her happiness, all of it was stolen away because of him. She wishes he hadn’t gotten away all those years ago, too much of a coward to see things through to the end. One thing is for certain, she will find him one day. And when she does, she will kill him. After all the atrocities he’s committed, it’s what he deserves.

#Prophet posts #dmcocweek #DMC OC Week #Devil May Cry

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