uhh wip thursday! time isnt real!
lil snipped from my first actual fanfiction without an oc in a whileeee
its jojos and a lil snippet of Trish & Narancia interacting, trying to look inside Trishs head roughly after the formaggio fight & during the illuso one.
tldr: Narancia tries to help Trish feel more safe by offering her his knife to defend herself
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The cushions of the sofa tilted then resettled as another person sat down on the other end.
It took what little remind of Trishs fraying nerves to not immediately whip her head around at whichever boy had intruded on her corner of the room, her heartbeat racing as she tried to appear calm.
So instead she tried to imitate the now absent silver haired man's resting bitch face and eternal scowl- channel the audacity of all the rich tourists and their designer handbags, looking down on those poorer than them for 'ruining' their vacation, acting like she and her mothe-
-It's the dark haired boy, named something orange related (Narancia, but rich tourist brats don't remember names, even if scared girls do)
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"Hey, don't freak-"
Her pulse thuds through her body. She's trying not to! It's just hard wh-
An arch of something silver looking, all she can see, the glint of light on blade- she's absolutely freaking the fuck out. Her pounding heartbeat would drown out her thoughts if panic didn't give them an edge of clarity. Her eyes ache with how wide with shock they are, and her hand digs into the surprisingly malleable sofa cushions, hand shaking, gripping fabric in her fist.
"Hey, hey! I said don't freak! That means don't freak out!"
As the blade moves away from her, her tunnel vision expands, and she can see the closed switchblade is held in his hands as he leans back, away from her.
-
As he talks, her fear subsides, and she realizes he's trying to be sweet, in his own way. The offered weapon isn't just for her to be able defend herself easier against enemies, it's giving her something to defend herself against the men and boys in the room and currently outside.
In a weird, and in what she's growing to think is very Narancia way, it's reassuring, like a somewhat oversized switchblade could make her magically safe from all the bad in the world.
She can't help the small smile on her face as she reaches out for the knife, gripping the handle firmly, as her other hand lets go of the sofa it held in it's fist.
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🎃🍭for Rowan
Thanks for the ask! From this ask game (and Rowan's masterlist is here).
Since you haven't specified a whumper, I'm going to do this twice, with both adult and child Rowan. So the first half of this post contains a minor whumpee.
Child Rowan (shortly before they're rescued, at about aged 10/11)
CWs: minor whumpee, underfeeding
🎃 Do the Leaches ever do fun activities with you? When they do, do you have fun?
"Fun for me, or for them?" they ask quietly, before shaking their head. "I mean, I'm sure those parties are fun for Mr Leach and his friends, right?"
🍭 Do the Leaches feed you often?
Rowan cocks their head to one side thoughtfully. "Is once a day often?"
When Cian comes to visit that evening, Rowan relays the question, unsure. It's not like they have anything to compare it to, but maybe Cian can help.
"No, Row. You don't get fed often. Who's asking you these things anyway?" Rowan points to the wall the voice had come out of (accompanied by spooky music) and Cian scowls at it. "No. Your answer is no. Now go bother someone else so I can spend some time with my friend."
Adult Rowan (while being held captive by The Osprey, along with Cian)
CWs: lab whump, human experimentation, implied electric shocks, mentioned force-feeding, captivity, brief emeto mention
🎃 Does The Osprey ever do fun activities with you? When she does, do you have fun?
"This again," growls Cian. "Fuck off, won't you, we had enough of this as children. Especially Rowan."
Rowan puts a hand on his arm. "It's okay. I'll answer them. Maybe... maybe if I answer well enough the voice will go away for good this time. And I won't be punished."
The last sentence is very quiet, and they clear their throat as they look back towards the loudspeaker.
"We're being held in a lab, there's not much available to do. Besides. The Osprey's too busy being an 'upstanding pillar of the community' to spend time with us outside of her experiments."
"Thankfully," adds Cian.
Rowan nods. "But... um... Medic did bring us some magic colouring books. We can't use them much because we need the water to drink, but... it was still nice of her."
"If she gave us a proper one with crayons I could draw on you," muses Cian. "Make you nice and colourful."
"Yeah, but she wouldn't. It would be too messy." They finger their shock collar, then Cian's, and Cian gets the message, swallowing hard.
"Spoiling my fun," he murmurs.
"But," says Rowan, glancing up at the loudspeaker where the question came through, "that wasn't really The Osprey anyway, so I'm not sure it counts. And it wasn't exactly doing things with us either. So I guess your answer is no. Not unless you're counting the time with the birthday cake candle, which..."
They trail off, and Cian finishes, "I'm not sure anyone is counting that."
🍭 Does The Osprey feed you often?
"Not... not exactly. Apparently it's unhygienic to have open food in the lab, so we have these shake drink things. The Osprey said that the Hero League developed them for long-term missions, so I guess they're healthy. But we only get them once the experiments are finished for the day in case it messes up the results."
"Or I throw it up," cuts in Cian. Rowan nods.
"So we don't get fed often, exactly. Sometimes Cian doesn't eat at all in a day because he can't. Sometimes I can't either. But if either of us don't eat for too long they'll get the feeding tube out. That's... that's bad."
Beside them, Cian shudders.
"Have I answered your questions well enough this time? Will... will you leave us alone now?" Their voice cracks as they stare at the loudspeaker, and their last word is barely a whisper.
"Please?"
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