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thelastspeecher · 11 months ago

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Stanuary '24 - Week One: Lost & Home

I'm too tired from recovering from COVID to provide any sort of introduction, but to be honest, I don't think this needs one. Except, uh, aliens.

Alien stuff is involved here.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

Alien words breached the haze of pain surrounding Stan. A few, he could recognize.

“…poison…human…poach…” Shame uncurled in the fiery pit that was Stan’s stomach. He hated being identified as a pathetic poaching victim.

“I’m sure you have a good reason for paging me when I’m not on call,” a voice snapped in English. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead, but Stan forced himself to open them. It didn’t help. Both the figure speaking an alien language and the one speaking English were too blurry to make out. His eyes slid shut again.

“…human…death…”

“What caused him to reach this state?”

“…poison…”

“Do we know what kind of poison?” A stethoscope, ice-cold against Stan’s burning skin, rested on his chest, accompanied by a similarly cold hand. A similarly cold six-fingered hand. Stan couldn’t understand the response to the English speaker’s question, but whatever it was clearly wasn’t good. “Shit.” The blessedly cold hand and stethoscope left. “We need to act fast if we want to save his liver and kidneys.” The cold hand was back, this time resting on Stan’s shoulder. Stan cracked open his eyes weakly.

The English speaker’s face was mere inches from his. And familiar.

“Stanley,” the familiar face said, “I need you to fight.”

Blackness filled Stan’s vision. The voice faded away.

-----

“For now, we will keep the saline ratio the same. I may switch him to a high-nutrient high-caloric solution once he tells me more information about his diet.”

“…weak…food…”

“I have no doubts I’ll need to contact the dietician for a consult, given his state. Please send her a message for me.” Footsteps sounded. There was the soft swish of one of the spaceship doors that Stan had become used to. “I know you’re awake, Stanley.” Stan opened his eyes. He was laying on a massive hospital bed in a softly lit, mostly white hospital room. Multiple monitors were hooked up to him, keeping track of his vitals. There was even what looked like an IV bag filled with a light pink fluid. Stan turned on his side to see the English speaker from before. He had been right. Somehow, it was his twin.

Ford stood at a tall desk by the closed door of the hospital room, wearing a lavender doctor’s coat. He had his back to Stan, typing something on a keyboard paired to a hologram screen. His curly brown hair stretched past his shoulders, tied in a business-like ponytail.

“How’d you know I woke up?” Stan croaked. He immediately regretted speaking. Not only was his throat raw, but his voice was broken and faint.

“You stopped snoring,” Ford replied. He cleared his throat. “I realize that you likely have many questions for me.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Stan spat.

“They will have to wait. You’re going to be drifting in and out of consciousness while your body processes the poison you ingested and the antidote we gave you. I need to utilize your brief waking moments to find out how you wound up in this state.”

“Why are your questions more important than mine?” Stan snapped. The words slurred together.

“In case you haven’t realized,” Ford said in a barely controlled tone, “I’m your doctor right now. I need to be able to treat you.”

“I bet Mom’s real proud you’re an alien doctor.” Stan’s slurring was getting worse. Ford took a deep breath.

“How long have you been on this planet?” he asked.

“Uh. Dunno. Coupla weeks, maybe?”

“Then your poacher didn’t dump you after accidentally giving you something poisonous.” Stan felt his chest tighten. “I thought it was unlikely. Humans are too valuable to risk poisoning, particularly given that most poachers know our bodies are more sensitive than average.”

“You know I was- I was-”

“Yes,” Ford said softly. “My staff had to remove your poaching cuff.” Stan looked at his left wrist. Just like the rest of him, it was thin and pale, but where the cuff had been, there was a distinct ring of hairless, scarred skin.

Holy shit. I’m- I’m free. I’m actually free.

“How did you get poisoned?” Ford asked.

“I swiped some blue hot dog looking thing from a street cart,” Stan muttered. Ford glanced over at him, eyes wide behind glasses that looked identical to the ones he’d had in high school. “I got sick of living off nutrient pills, sue me!” Stan looked away. “Just my luck that the first real food I try in months poisons me.”

“…Months?” At Ford’s concerned tone, Stan looked at him again. Ford quickly went back to typing before Stan could see his expression.

“I’m guessing. It’s difficult to tell how much time goes by when you’re in the smuggler’s bay of a poaching ship.”

“What date was your last day on Earth?” Ford asked.

“Uh. May something.”

“You’ve been off-planet for roughly eight months, then,” Ford said in a tight voice. “During that time, you’ve only consumed human-rated nutrient pills?”

“Yeah,” Stan mumbled. Ford paused his typing. “What?”

“Those aren’t meant to be one’s sole diet for more than a few weeks.” Ford resumed typing, more quickly than before. “We’ll need to ease you back into regular food. Am I correct that you were unable to keep down most of the street food you consumed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I chucked just about all of it back up pretty quick.”

“That would explain why you aren’t dead. I know of the dish that you ate. It’s high in arsenic and ricin. The fact you were no longer used to eating food saved your life.” Ford shook his head. “I’ll definitely be changing the IV solution for you…”

“No need.” Stan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the exceedingly large hospital bed. The movement made his head swim, but he ignored it. “I’m outta here. You don’t have to take care of me. I can take care of myself.” Ford sighed. He pressed a button on his keyboard. The hologram screen went away.

“No. You can’t. You’ll need to be hospitalized for at least a week.”

“Bullshit,” Stan scoffed. Ford walked over, revealing that under his doctor’s coat, he was wearing one of the plain futuristic jumpsuits that were the fashion on the planet. Seemingly without any effort at all, he pushed Stan back onto the hospital bed. “How did you-”

“You just survived a severe poisoning after living on nutrient pills for eight months,” Ford scolded. Stan scowled at him. “You’re weaker than you’ve ever been in your entire life right now.” Stan felt his eyelids growing heavy. “Get your rest. When you next wake up, I’ll have more questions for you to answer.” Stan’s eyes slid shut.

“Great,” he managed, just before darkness took over again.

-----

A small hand slid into Stan’s. Stan cracked open an eye. His right arm was dangling over the edge of the hospital bed, which a very short alien had apparently decided was an invitation to hold his hand. The alien had periwinkle blue skin, long carnation pink hair tied in a braid, and eyes that were way too human.

I’ve been on this planet for a while now. Stan stared at the wide, light blue eyes inches from his. The people that live here don’t have eyes like that. The small alien let out a soft whimper.

“Unca For?” the alien said hesitantly. A smile broke across Stan’s face.

It’s just some cute kid. Unable to help himself, Stan ruffled the alien child’s hair.

“Nah. I’m not your Unca For. He’s over there.” Stan nodded at Ford, who was standing by the door, talking to two adult aliens, one male and one female. Judging by the aliens’ appearances, the child holding Stan’s hand was theirs.

“Lee, no, you can’t bother my patients,” Ford said, finally noticing what was going on. The child, Lee, looked over at him.

“Unca For?”

“Yes, Lee, that is me.” Ford crouched down. Lee let go of Stan’s hand and ran into Ford’s arms. Ford picked the child up and stood. “I apologize that he woke you up, Stanley. He hasn’t spent time around many humans, so he must have mistaken you for me.”

“To be fair, Max thought you were the one in the bed at first,” remarked the female alien. She had the same skin tone and long narrow nose as Lee, but her hair was a bright magenta.

“They look the same,” muttered the male alien, apparently named Max. He had pink skin to match his light pink hair, the latter of which Lee appeared to have inherited from him. Stan squinted.

“Why do two of you three have regular human names?”

“I provided them with human nicknames because human vocal cords cannot pronounce their proper names,” Ford replied.

“All three of them have human names?”

“Nicknames,” Ford corrected. “But yes.” He nodded at the female alien. “This is my sister-in-law, Angie, and her husband, Max. Lee is their son.”

“You’ve got in-laws on this planet?” Stan asked. Ford was silent. “Fine. Clam up. Like I give a shit.” Ford sighed. He turned to Max and Angie.

“Please let Fiddleford know I’ll be along shortly. I need to talk to Stan before he falls unconscious again.”

“Of course,” Angie said politely. Max took Lee from Ford. The aliens left the room.

“You’ve got more questions for me?” Stan grumbled.

“No, not really. But I need to let you know your treatment plan.”

“So you’re not gonna tell me how you wound up being a fucking alien doctor?”

“Not right now, no. Fulfilling my responsibilities as a physician is more important,” Ford said firmly. Stan rolled his eyes. Ford pulled up the hologram screen from before. Stan squinted at the writing on it. While he’d been able to pick up some words here and there in various alien languages over the last eight months, he had no idea how to read any of them.

Ford better not be planning on giving me a piece of paper with instructions in Alienese or whatever.

“I’ll be providing you with a printed copy in English,” Ford said, as though reading Stan’s mind. “For now, I’ll just read it off to you.” Ford cleared his throat. “You’re going to undergo a course of antidotes to properly flush the poisons from your system. Simultaneously, you’ll be given an intravenous source of nutrients and calories, as you’ve clearly lost a significant amount of both weight and muscle.” Stan felt himself flush in embarrassment. He hated what the nutrient pill diet had done to his strong arms and cushioned belly. “Tomorrow, we will begin the process of easing you back into eating actual food. We’ll do it slowly and gradually so that you can eat normally by the time you are discharged.”

“Great,” Stan muttered. “And the second I leave, I’m just gonna eat a new poisonous thing and wind up right back here.”

“No, you won’t.” Ford closed his eyes. “Once you’re discharged, you’ll be staying with me.”

“Like hell I will!” Stan snapped. He sat up straight. The motion made his stomach churn. Ford opened his eyes.

“I’m not happy about it either,” Ford said, sounding frustrated. “But you are my patient. As your doctor, I need to make sure you become healthy again. You will not be properly healthy until quite some time after you are discharged from your hospital stay.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Look,” Ford interrupted. He took a steadying breath. “Neither of us want this. However, I must follow my duties as a physician. And you are too physically weak to resist.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“A temporary truce,” Ford said. “Once you are back to normal, we can part ways. But until then, you unfortunately remain with me, under my care.”

“The second your big doctor brain thinks I’m good to go, I’m leaving,” Stan snarled. Ford held up his hands.

“I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“Good!” Stan laid back in bed, rubbing his eyes. A sudden wave of exhaustion had just washed over him. The circular door slid down with a gentle swishing sound. Stan and Ford looked over. A tall pink alien with blood orange hair and the same nose as Angie and Lee stuck his head into the room.

“Oh, good!” the alien said cheerfully. “He’s still awake!”

“Not for long,” Stan mumbled. He frowned at the alien. “Who are you?”

“Just a feller what wanted to meet his brother-in-law,” the alien drawled. Stan’s eyes widened. He stared at Ford. Ford turned red.

“Yes, Stanley, this- this is-” Ford stammered. He swallowed. “This is my husband, Fiddleford.”

“Huh.” The jolt of adrenaline had faded, and Stan was weary again. He yawned. “I shoulda known…you would marry an alien or Bigfoot or…or whatever…” Stan’s eyes drifted shut. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was from his newfound brother-in-law.

“I s’ppose I’ll have to bring the children to meet him later then.”

-----

“I can walk,” Stan snapped at the alien nurse trying to help him into a hover chair. After over a week in the hospital, he was finally free to go. And not a moment too soon for his cabin fever. Ford, who was watching nearby, crossed his arms with a scowl.

“Don’t take that tone with my staff. You need to be discharged in a hover chair. You won’t be able to make it to the car on your own.”

“The physical therapist gave me a cane-”

“For short distances,” Ford interjected. “This hospital is the largest on the planet.”

“…Fine,” Stan muttered. He reluctantly sat in the hover chair.

“Don’t worry about escorting him out,” Ford said to the nurse. He glared at Stan. “He’s being rather difficult right now. I think it’s best if I handle it from here.” Stan flipped the bird at him. “How delightfully immature of you.” Ford took hold of the handles on the hover chair. “You need to be on your best behavior while at my home. Fiddleford is still recovering from the birth of Tate and Tesla.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m not gonna be difficult when there are newborns around,” Stan muttered. “I know better than that.”

“Tate and Tesla are not our only children.”

“They aren’t?”

“No. We also have an adopted son, Proteus.” Ford pushed the hover chair up to the door of the hospital room, but paused. “I should probably warn you about his species.”

“I’m not a racist.”

“He belongs to the same species as the person who poached you,” Ford said quietly. Stan’s heart began to race. “The authorities were able to identify your poacher based upon the poaching cuff. Apparently, he is a rather notorious poacher who uses his shapeshifting abilities to lure prey.”

“Yeah. I remember,” Stan said darkly.

“Given his reputation, I am not only relieved you escaped, but impressed.”

“It wasn’t that tough. I just slipped off when he wasn’t looking and stowed away on the first ship I found.”

“Not many have gotten away from him and lived to tell the tale.” The hospital room door opened. Ford began to push Stan through the halls of the hospital. They made the trip to the patient pickup/dropoff area in silence, Stan steadfastly avoiding making eye contact with any reflective surfaces. It was a moot point, however. Once they were outside, Stan couldn’t refuse to look at himself anymore. The hospital, like all buildings on the planet, was constructed of a mirror-like material on the outside. Stan cringed at the sight of his reflection.

Not a lot of people have lived after getting away from the guy that poached me. Now that Stan had been faced with his reflection, he couldn’t help but stare. His cheeks were gaunt, his body scrawny and bony, his skin pale from lack of sunlight. His hair, which had grown long enough to stretch halfway down his back, hung limp and lifeless. Stan clenched the cane the physical therapist had given him. But is this living?

“Ah,” Ford said, breaking Stan free from spiraling. Stan looked up. A hover car had come to a stop in front of them. “This is our ride, Stanley.” The back door of the hover car opened. Ford reached for Stan to help him up, but Stan slapped his hand away.

“I can handle it,” he grumbled. Ford stood back. Stan got to his feet and hobbled over to the hover car. When he got inside, there was a soft chime. A seatbelt quickly buckled itself around him. The door closed with another soft chime. The driver of the car, Fiddleford, looked over his shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Fiddleford said cheerfully. “It��s still on the child settings fer Proteus.” Stan wasn’t sure why Ford’s husband spoke English with a southern accent, when every other alien he’d met spoke English like Ford.

Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice to hear someone that doesn’t sound just like my damn twin.

“Where is Proteus?” Ford asked, getting into the passenger seat.

“I dropped the kids off with Angie and Max. I thought it best if Stanley came home to some quiet. At least fer him to settle in.”

“Home,” Stan scoffed quietly. Fiddleford looked back at him. “I haven’t had a home in ages.”

“We’re fam’ly, so our home is yours,” Fiddleford said firmly. He looked at Ford. “Right, darlin’?” A series of complicated emotions crossed Ford’s face too quickly for Stan to interpret. Ford eventually settled on something decidedly neutral.

“…Yes. Our home is your home, Stanley.” Ford and Fiddleford turned to face the front. The hover car took off. Stan looked out the window at the alien buildings passing by.

I don’t know what this is, but it isn’t home. He glanced at Ford, who seemed more comfortable than ever in his skin. At least, it isn’t mine.

#Stanuary #Gravity Falls #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Purposeful Abduction AU #Accidental Abduction AU #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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mapsofnonexistentplaces · 8 months ago

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Character thang: mithrun! And falin:3 if u want

GRINS just doing mithrun for now might rb this later and add on falin thoughts....

favorite thing about them

honestly just his whole arc being a pretty blatant abuse/depression metaphor combined with like. some of the most realistic disabled writing ive seen in fantasy. like i remember reading dunmeshi for the first time and pogging about seeing a character with ptosis because i NEVER see that shit outside of my own ocs and also some of the stuff discussed about him like. having a weird sense of direction (which is partially bc of dungeon lord business but also iirc he is stated to have weird walking/gesture patterns so!) and not really being aware of his own energy or triggers.... like it hits very close to home for me as a chronically fatigued guy with bad balance and bad eyesight and its just really nice to see someone like me portrayed in like. a way which doesnt exaggerate mithrun's disability as laughable or tragic in a very unsympathetic way. like the way the canaries accommodate him and the way his arc finishes up (+ the little chats he has with marcille....) i think its very sweet very comforting. ive just been very into him recently after like. coming to terms with being abused by an ex and going through the whole rollercoaster of emotions that comes with that. like. ughhh. i saw this thread recently and it keeps swimming around in my mind. its good

least favorite thing about them

i guess like the dude's bigotry but considering other chapters in the adventurer's bibble he seems to be self aware of it? its kind of an unexplored facet of him altogether.... and at the same time i think it informs a lot of like. the inherent supremacist ideas elf culture harbors.

favorite line

brOTP

reiterating what i said when i answered these qs with kabru. i think they both have a very funny dynamic that i wouldnt even necessarily describe as platonic or friendly theyre just very good inverse masks of one another.... makes for entertaining scenes in a way i really respect

also as i mentioned i think him and marcille getting to know one another post-story and talking out dungeon lord feelings is nice....

OTP

i think he has more important things to worry about

nOTP

him and kabru. as i said i think its funnier if theyre just two blokes forced to talk to each other. they wouldve never conversed willingly and that makes so many of their discussions interesting....

random headcanon

i think im just too picky about the anime LOL but im not too fond of the voice hes been given based on the previews. they did that breathy anime twink shit to him. i think he sounds like he smokes 20 cigarettes a day personally

unpopular opinion

i think the fact i dont like yaoi with him in it is unpopular enough i feel. oh uh i also think like. the few scenes where he shows off like. genuine bursts of aggression and violence are really fucking interesting and everyones far too keen on dismissing him as like. A Numb Mindless Boytoy like hey. think about this dude for a second as like an individual please.

song i associate with them

SIGH i have so much to say about this one. thats for another day though

favorite picture of them

sketches here are forever lodged in my mind theyre cutes. i like his shitty little ponytail here LOL

#ask

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c0rvidbones · 9 months ago

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hello I love your art a whole lot!! tell me more about Wit (he's hot and evil and I require more juicy details) and Ruby (his design goes so hard) please?

oh my god hi i did not expect to come back to 20 notifs. (/pos) youve given me a much needed ego boost tonight thank you. is it bad i cant remember having ever posted ruby art?? ive only ever gotten One comm of him which is a crime, my violent martyr son should rly get more love than i give him 😔 but thank you for asking! buckle up this is gonna be a long fuckin post ♡ everything under the cut including relevant character art

WIT

behold, all art of wit i have including one i havent posted here bc i never actually finished it and the wip of him being a silly giggly boy. pls know i came up with him like MAYBE a month ago. two, tops.

SO wit is actually a what-if au of another oc of mine, his name is doodle. doodle (seen below) is a very robin-hood-esque oc, honorable thief and kindhearted, swashbuckler rogue that dual wields rapiers bc hes insane. but hes insane in like a normal way. he was a horrible child but he did grow out of it and its rare to see him w his hair down so pardon me making him look absurdly pretty in that one.

as you can see there are some (but not MANY) differences between the two. kid wit does have the starry hands/peets im just forgetful dont @ me about it djdjdj

ANYWAYS so the what-if of the au that wit is, essentially, little singular things didn't happen to people in that au world. it goes like so;

wit: never met his childhood best friend when he was a freshly injured orphan. was alone from the (elf) ages of 0-16. ended up studying magic (illusion wizard) since he didn't have someone to lean on for that sort of thing.

laika (wit's mom): never truly broke out of an archfey's madness curse. stuck with a very twisted version of the spell Tasha's Hideous Laughter burned into her mind. everything is funny and if it's scary? even funnier. she died briefly. shes back now, but still madnessed.

perseverance (wit's dad): never saved his mother from a death blow in the be-all end-all fight to save his home. was held back by someone who he thought was a friend, killed that person and then ultimately spiralled so hard that he became a lich. may or may not have accidentally killed laika.

something something one decision can change your whole life, me and my friend loved playing with that concept.

okay now that you know a lil lore/history i can dive into what wit is like.

as a kid (drawn with the short megafloofy hair) he's very mischievous and bastardly, almost always smiling or grinning but it's more to lean into the uncanny valley effect his eyes cause than out of any actual joy or anything. he doesn't Blink and he knows it unnerves people because he also has a freakishly high insight (i think its like a +9 or smth??? at level 9??). he loves to come up with fucked up spells, like. for example i saw a silly post on here the other day that was very jokingly having a wizard cast a spell of "10000 bricks until you die" but then i was immediately aware wit would (1) come up with that spell, make it functional, and have it unfortunately obliterate everyone that gets hit with it, and (2) he would call it Wit's Bricks which i think is fuckin funny. he would also come up with spells of like. cause heatstroke. boil all fluid in your body. FREEZE all fluid in your body. he's a little freak with extremely low empathy for those he isn't connected to with blood ties. that said, he's kind to his family (albeit very blunt and will call them out if theyre being stupid) and inquisitive. he DID look his dad in the eye when he met him for the first time and went "are you dead?" which. again, hilarious, but BRUTALLY blunt. he then called his dad cool because yes his dad is now a lich and therefore undead. he's a little freak but he's still a kid and that is ultimately his saving grace, what small child isn't a little freak.

as an adult (long ponytail) i get a feel of him being aro and using romance as a way to manipulate people. he's definitely still not a good person and far more stoic than he was as a child. also he most definitely maintains a constant illusion to make it seem like his eyes are always closed, which lends an air of mystery to the strange elf that seems to always be standing right behind every throne in every kingdom of faerun. i say this because i like to think he would become what's called a King's Wit, which is like a combo of royal advisor, court mage, and "guy the regent has insult other nobility since insults are beneath the reigning royal". he uses all of that to his advantage, gaining the ear and trust of every single person of noble blood that is part of any royal or ruling court, and he will bend and twist their choices so subtly that they won't realise he led them to ruin until it's already too late. which is his ultimate plan. he's STILL somewhat a robin hood style of character, but he takes it a bit further and with far less kindness to the nobility. he guts their coffers completely and every hoarded coin down to the last copper inevitably will land its way conveniently into the lap of the common folk. he does take a healthy chunk for himself - did you know being a wizard was EXPENSIVE in dnd btw? i didnt until i made wit - but most of it is for the local citizens. he does this everywhere he goes if he sees that it needs to happen. fucker topples kingdoms For Fun, because he never gets caught or credited with the ruin he leaves behind himself. he's awful. he probably still comes up with fucked up spells and he manipulates his way into wherever he wants to be. i love him.

---

RUBY

behold! @polterpumpkin drew my (not very) little guy for me! this is part of a greater set but this is the fully coloured one and arguably my fave bc it captures the absolute batshit energy ruby brings to the table.

ruby is a tiefling that was born in a lab. voluntarily, his parents participated in a sort of study that wanted to eval why it is tieflings could be born to non-tiefling parents. (both his parents are half-orcs, interestingly!) he participated in it up to a certain point, before he got sick of being poked and prodded and Watched. that's when he demanded to be released and, when he wasn't, both his parents helped him escape, unfortunately leaving his other two tiefling-born siblings behind in the process. both parents Died helping him escape, and he was embittered as is by the whole study bs, and then to have his parents die Saving him? it left him with this sort of hole he didn't know how to feel.

so he fills that hole with every vice he finds agreeable. he drinks, he fights, and he drinks again. he's a drunken monk, and one full of unbridled rage and a death wish. he isn't my happiest oc but he isn't my worst off (that would be talisman bloodhunter). he's constantly seeking a grand and worthy cause to die for, literally. he's a wannabe martyr, because he doesn't think he has anything to live for. no lovers, no friends, no allies, MAYBE a coworker or two on the occasion he's needed (he is so not needed most of the time, because it isn't often any job needs an angry monk tief to glare around the place). he has just those two sides to himself - party animal and underground drunk brawler - because he doesn't want to think about the pain underneath them both. he's tragic in a very human way, hilariously enough, but he's not a bad person. even if he's being dragged by the tail to do a job, he's ultimately going to be helpful and he ALWAYS keeps his team alive. he'll grumble about it but he'll do it, and if you thank him he brushes it off, muttering something or other about how it's just his job, don't Thank him for that. i think having a friend would Fix him but fuck if i know what would get past his thick skin 😔

i dont get to play or write ruby really, not for any specific reason other than the dnd games im in have been going for So long, and that i havent really been super inspired to write him. but i love him! literally my car is named after him! i have so many feelings for him and i hope one day i get to play/write him so he can be more fleshed out.

#c0rvidspeaks #ask me about my ocs #and-a-pidgey-in-a-wepear-tree #ruby #wit dalca #oc #i was almost done w this like an hour ago but the fucking APP CRASHED and ate my whole reply #also the tags is where i realise i never gave ruby a last name oh noo

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alternativegirl23 · 1 year ago

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I feel like the first two chapters have been filler. But I promise it gets better!

Deal With The Devil- Chapter 2

Morning came too quickly. Your eyes bleary, mouth cotton dry and sore. Slowly sitting up, you wiped your eyes to remove the sleep. You yawned wide and stretched what muscles you could feel were tense. Stomach grumbling, but turning with nausea at the same time.

Slowly swinging your legs over the bed, and heading towards your bathroom off to the left. You were startled at your reflection. Red lipstick smeared away, hair askew from bedhead, and probably the worst morning breath ever. You remember Lee helping you in the bathroom, embarrassed that you couldn't hold the wine you imbibed.

You just wanted to forget how you felt. How he made you feel. Truthfully, you were broken up with several months ago by your ex. He just "wanted space for a while". You knew it was bullshit.

So, you just wanted to drown your sorrows. As well as feel more relaxed around Lee. He had always made you a little nervous, being too handsome for his own good. All he had to do was talk or look at you a certain way and you felt your heart beat a little faster. Hands suddenly clammy and your breath more shallow.

You slowly made your way down the stairs. Holding onto the railing so you wouldn't lose your balance. The kitchen calling to you with the wafting smell of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and coffee. Yawning and putting your hair up into a ponytail, you came to see Lee in the kitchen making a full breakfast.

Slightly confused, you wondered where your parents were. He seemed to be able to read your thoughts. "They left to go for a drive", he answered in his drawl that you loved. You nodded and went to sit down on one of the chairs situated under the medium sized island.

Smiling at you, Lee finished up cooking all the food, setting them on the island. "Eat up, go on '', he encouraged, grabbing both of you plates and coming to sit down by your side. You half bent over the island, feeling too lazy to get up. The fabric of your shirt slid up slightly, and you felt Lee's eyes on you. "Yes?", you teasingly asked.

He chuckled to himself and shook his head, knowing he'd been caught.

"You just look real cute, that's all" he smiled, a crooked grin as he looked at you. You smiled in return, sitting down as you started taking slow mouthfuls of food. A few moments passed, both of you trying to decide who should speak first. Lee spoke up, setting down his mug if coffee.

"You feeling any better?", he asked.

"Yeah, my head is still pounding that's all. Shouldnt you be leaving soon?" You looked at him a moment, eating more forkfuls of food and chugging down the coffee in hopes the caffeine would help your headache.

"I'll still do my patrols but your dad actually offered me to stay here a bit. Says so I can get out of that motel I been stayin' in", he anwsers.

"That's nice of him. It must be really lonely, since, you know'". A slight pause. "Ive been really lonely since my breakup. I cant imagine what divorce is like. Im glad youre here. We all are", you finish.

Lee gave you a confused look, tilting his head and scooting closer to you in his chair."You didn't tell me you were single", he said. You shrugged, eyes downcast. Voice almost a whisper.

"I didn't think it was a big deal", you answered solemnly.

"It is to me. Might explain why you've been drinking a bit more" Lee drawls, as if he knows you melt at hearing him talk. You nod.

"You know you ain't as stealthy as you seem", he muses. You look up, face plastered with mild shock. You hadn't expected the conversation to veer this way. Lee continued, "You forget Im a cop sweetheart. I see everything. Ive seen the looks and smiles you give me. Ive noticed you've seen me given' em to you too". He moves even closer in his chair now, inches away from you. His right hand, large and warm, resting just above your knee. You had to ignore the vibrating sensation crawling up your leg.

"But what I wanna know is what exactly it is you want darlin'", he moves even closer to your face. A thumb resting on your cheek. Running small movements up and down as you keep staring at him. You're at a loss for words. You shake your head, whether to clear your thoughts or gather them, you're not sure. Lee smirks widely to himself, exposing some teeth.

He knows exactly what effect he has on you. But can he keep up the game? Before even thinking, you lean forward and kiss him deeply. Leaning into the kiss as you put your hands on his face, licking his bottom lip to see if he'll let you in. You start to moan before you can restrain it.

Little whimpers at first then bigger pleas. He only gives in a little, moving into you with his hands on your shoulders now. His hands slowly wrap around your back. Please God, just give a woman something. He deepens the kiss and slowly invades your mouth.

He can't seem to keep noises to himself either. Letting out little groans and pants, as if you were sucking the life from him. Deepening it even more, you think maybe he'll finally act on how he feels. But as soon as it started, he stops. Fuck.

He pulls away quickly, sighing to himself as if he's disappointed for losing control. "Honey, Im goin' through a lot right now. I think it best we keep things low til dust settles. Alr'ght?" You nod your head, dropping it low in slight disappointment. You understood where he was coming from, but it didnt mean it still wasnt a rejection. Lee tucked his right index finger under your chin, making you face him again.

You gave a sad half smirk. "I understand. Im sorry. I just got carried away," you finally said. Lee returned the same smile, resting his right hand on your knee now. "Im sorry if I lead ya on, darling. I really do like you. I just dont wanna jump into anything too fast", he said. You nodded your head, your left hand softly covering his, trying to reassure him.

"No, dont be sorry. We've both been really lonely. I shouldn't have jumped at you when I saw an opening", your voice calm and even. Lee smiled and leaned in to give you a friendly hug, both of you leaning forward on the stools then sitting back down. He had a different glint in his eyes now. Mischievous or calculating you couldn't tell.

A few moments of silence. He rose from his stool to stand in front of you. Hands planted solidly on the island on either side of you. You shift forward to face him. Breath hitching in your throat because he was so close again. He smirks to himself, just wanting to push your limits a little further.

But he wont, he's a patient man. At least when it comes to you. Lee gets up and starts to hand wash the dishes. You get up and start to help dry and put them away. Eyes couldnt help but keep returning back to Lee.

A white tee shirt hugged the little pudge of his stomach. Light wash jeans gripping his thick thighs. You had to practically clench your thighs together. So touch starved, you would have humped his leg like a dog if he asked.

"Lee? Thank you for making breakfast", you said coyly. He gave a little grin. "You're welcome", was all he gave in return as he put the last dish away for you. He turned on his heel, heading towards the living room now. Now or never. My last chance.

With a quick inhale, you walked away from the sink. A few paces closer to him but he was almost out of the room. "Lee?", you asked with a hint of panic in your voice. He turned toward you, a brow raised in your direction. "Yes Darlin'?", he drawled. There it was again. Does he know hes toying with you?

"How about a deal", you were nervous now. Hands clammy, wiping them on your jeans. He slowly strode over, licking his bottom lip and pulling into his teeth. Lee stops a few inches from you, eyeing you up down.

"Whats that cutie?" You blushed a little at his comment. His fingers brushed past your cheek as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, finding the courage needed. You looked him in the eyes, not wanting to look away.

"How about when everything settles on your end…we have a sort of…relationship", you stated. His brows raised, unsure of what you meant. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts. This was still coming out more nervous than you wanted. Just once you wish you could be confident.

Lee chuckled softly, shaking his head. His hand softly grips your chin, tilting your head more up to his eye level. "Just say what you wanna say, honey", he spoke softly, more gravel in his tone than normal. Like he knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you say it. You kept eye contact still, wanting to appear unafraid.

"Were friends but we also fuck on occasion. Once your divorce is finalized, I mean. I know we're both lonelier than ever. So why not keep each other company?" Both of you stared into each other's souls, trying to figure the other out.

Would a man a decade younger than your dad be interested in someone like you? He had to be with all the looks and touches, right? He gave you a neutral expression, not giving away what he was thinking at all. Come on, just tell me already. You stepped back a foot or two, suddenly feeling enclosed by his presence.

The weight of him is too much to bear. His scent is too dizzying to make you think straight. His thumb brushes your jaw tenderly. He notices and gives a little smirk. "Sounds fun to me darlin", he coos.

You couldn't believe it. "I have one condition", you add. He still stares at you intensely. Lee gives a little nod for you to continue. "Let me call you Master, maybe Sir. Deal?", you hold out your left hand. He shakes his head with a laugh, stepping closer to you.

Lee holds out his right hand to shake your left. "Did I just make a deal with the devil, honey?" You shook his hand firmly, letting it drop after a few seconds. "Maybe you did", you say. A Cheshire cat-like smirk appears on your face. Now the fun can really begin.

#Lee Bodecker #the devil all the time #smut #Sleazy Sherriff

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scover-va · 1 year ago

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could you perhaps do the ask thing for Lazarus? I love him so much and I NEED more opinions on thay man, love your content <3 -💫

This ask may be from January but we're answering it now! Becaaauuuuse fuck it!

favorite thing about them It might just be because i enjoy the trope in general but i really enjoy the codependent slash doomed by the narrative dynamic he has with Chandrelle. Not even from a romantic standpoint I just really enjoy what they got goin on

least favorite thing about them Drawing his armour next question

favorite line It's been so long since ive played the game so i cant remember specifics but either the convo w/ Chandrelle right before the Irving confrontation, or his snarky remark (smth along the lines of preferring he just stayed under the rock) if you go the long way to the dragon in SoL

brOTP Him, Jay, and Junior :-) I never really went into the group dynamic but i like to imagine they were kinda like a pseudo family for one another. Lazarus misses them a lot

OTP I dont have a singular Lazarus ship that i put above all else but i do ship him with Chandrelle, Bryce, and Rust

nOTP Irving for. Obvious reasons. Im saying him specifically just because i put those two in that 'i dont see the difference love is love' meme when im known for shipping Ducks & Lions (carla and lionel) and chansado so i figured I should clarify. My original idea for that square of the meme btw was Irving/Bryce since i do half ship them (shouldnt happen in canon but could work in aus type deal) but i thought drawing Irving's literal death was funnier

random headcanon Hes a french depressed bisexual like damn bitch pick a struggle!! Also in SoL he has a longass ponytail, in VG2 he gets a buzzcut, and then by the time the inn stuff happens he has this awkward lil mullet thing goin on

unpopular opinion Lazarus and Chandrelle wouldnt be able to healthily date by the time The Hex ends im sorry. Not even shortly after. Maybe in the future after working out their issues but if they started dating before working through all That i dont see it ending well given the codependency and the guilt and the sacrifice and the trauma and just. Yeah. Like i think eventually it could work out, they clearly both want to at least try and fix things to some degree (Chandrelle tries to apologize, Lazarus later tells her that being her swordsman wasnt all that bad when the last thing he said to her before being separated for however long was "Chandrelle, I regret this" or smth like that. Like theres potential but its gotta have effort put in first)

song i associate with them The Moon Will Sing (The Crane Wives) obviously but also Blood On My Name (The Brothers Bright) but like. From Chandrelle's pov about him. Because one it literally has his name in it and two it also really fits. I think Battlefield (SVRCINA) also works p well

favorite picture of them I dont have a favourite picture of him (mainly because the hex is a lil limited with photo content) but the way hes passed out after the Gameworks fuckin blows up is hilarious. Mainly bc of that one meme im way too lazy to go find

#scov.txt #the hex #lazarus bleeze #im killin the shit out of my hands by doin all this on desktop btw #but oh well! fuck it we ball lmao

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jils-things · 3 months ago

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“unless they were my romantic fos!!!” YES SAME it’s that bad now I guess waaawaahhh YES I ADMIT I LIKE HIM A BIT TOO MUCH

AWWW YOU THINKIN OF ME WHEN PLAYING NAIB INGAME (I made it, I made it to Naib-crush status in Jil’s brain /jk)

Pls know that you're also on my mind when seeing Steven or Red in Pokemas or Norton (very rarely tho)!!

I’M- YES- I’M THINKING UP A- PARTNER A NAIB PARTNER (should I ask u first if I’m allowed to create a partner for your brother idk would you be ok with that)

H-HE MIGHT REVEAL HIS FACE TO A VERY NICE LADY- ok wait I have to overshare real quick, so I actually have a fewww ideas - she doesn't have a name yet but I think she would be the daughter of some kind of astronomer or researcher idk I like that idea. Annnd Naib gets a job… he has to retrieve a very rare item from a family of astronomers/researchers and Naib thought he would have to retrieve it from the father BUT NO the family member with said Item is the daughter :] I just think this could be a fun concept. And uhhh maybe later he ends up rescuing her from danger somehow and I can imagine her having a very sunshine like personality, so she’s like “I want to thank you :)” and gifts him something (a flower, a small trinket maybe idk) and Naib gets quite flustered about it (but still kiinda irritated/confused? Like what is this? Why am I feeling like this?) and is like “I can’t do this anymore” PFFFTT idk pls let me know if this might be too ooc ;w;

(GIRL I’m scrolling through his gallery on the wiki and I wanna save all of the images and draw him and AGHGHFFDG I EVEN CONSIDER GOING PUBLIC WITH THAT CRUSH AND CHANGE MY BLOG THEME BECAUSE THE BUTTERFLIES IN MY STOMACH GOING CRAZY AGGHHG)

-🐭 anon

thrhretheamount of times i had to look away and just squeal to myself obymhoifd what have i done /pos

I ESPECIALLY JUST THINK OF PONYTAIL NAIB SINCE IT SEEMS TO BE YOUR FAVORITE PART OF HIM AJAKAKSJDHHDHSH 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (me crying at steven and red btw.. my husboo... THANKYYOU....)

ALSO OMG OF COURSE?!?? YES OF COURSE YOU CAN MAKE A PARTNER FOR NAIB. IF ANYTHING!! IRENE WOULD EXPLODE AND DIE LIKE "OHMYGOD I KNEW YOU WERE CAPABLE OF LOVING. YOU'RE STOIC BUT YOUREA SOFTIE INSIDE" RAAAAA dude like if you're my familial/platonic's partner of COURSE id be so happy you dont even have to askk!!!!!!

THE FUCKIGGN OVERSHARE. THE SUDDEN SI DROP NO FUCKING WAY‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ WE GENUINELY GETTING AN SI RN?;?;?;?;?;?;? I FEEL LIKE EXPLODING EVEN MORE NOW😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 NAUR IM ABSOLUTELY NODDINH MY HEAD TO THIS CRUMB?!?!?! him absolutely startled by this sweet lady handling such important data... kinda cute ... hes probably thinkijg HRMRMRMMM (I WOULDN'T SAY ITS OOC BECAUSE HES HESITATING W HIS FEELINGS!! ive seen fanart absolutely destroying his personality so YOURE FINE) (my argument that he would feel "the butterflies" with his gift from si is because he doesnt a lot of good things in his past because of war and living not-so-comfortably back then so i think him being given something kind is a nice change of pace for him!!) (ps i think si should treat him to a nice dinner. he is a foodie, i mean understandably so for a fit man!)

DRAW HIM????? DRAW HIM.... MOUSE IS THINKING OF DRAWING HIM GUYS OKG... OMG... JIL WINNING ERA... /J EEKEKEKEKEKEKEK WHAT U DOIN STARING AT HIS GALLERY UHUHHH (closes my norton tabs /j you saw nothing) GO SAVE IT... I DARE YOU.... 😈😈😈😈

#YOU GOING PUBLIC. IM GOING CRAZY #ONE OF THE THINGS I AM ANTICIPATING IS THAT ANON REVEAL IM REALLY WONDERING WHO THIS COULD BE SKSKSKSKDJDHSHSJ EEEKKKK #CHANGING YOUR BLOG THENE. GIRL. AINT NO WAY /J THE NEW FAN EFFECT US SO STRONGEHDHSHAKWKWKWKJEJWJ #IM JUMPING EVERYWEHRE ITS 1AM FUFUUCK #HAAYAAAAAA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#~ mailbox #🐭 anon tag #mouse and ekans yall gonna kill me from getting too excited holy FUCK. /pos nm

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writingsoftrash · 4 months ago

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Alice In Mechaland Chapter One, Part IV Savior At The Eleventh Hour

Alice continued with out the slightest hint of discomfort, smiling as she took down her ponytail, and rolling her neck to stretch it, "If you'd like, I can get your clothes dry-cleaned tomorrow. I uh, might have some clothes for you to wear, but- they're probably not anything you'd want to work in, so- I can grab you some things. If... you want to stay that is." "I... am. I do - I think." he followed after her, "But you don't have to do that, I should have some units still stored in the bank-"

She laughed, shaking her head with a wry smile, "Uh, still working on that actually, friend. Getting the banks to unfreeze your accounts, and your agency to release you from your contract has been more of a hassle than getting the cops to free you. Ironic, because your agency was perfectly fine to let you rot in a jail cell or worse, but now that you're free... well. Those are the... other 'issues' I mentioned before. But- I promise, I'm working on it, and everything should be resolved soon, so, you don't need to worry!" He moved in front of her, pale green eyes looking over her, studying every inch of her face for any tell, any possible subtle note that could reveal to him what game was being played- "What is the catch?" he asked finally, head tilted as he looked at her carefully, "I know I asked you before, and you answered but there is always, a catch... I simply wish to know, so it does not catch me off guard." "There's no catch," she replied, giving a small indignant huff, "You need help. I want to give it. That's all there is to it, I'm afraid. I realize it's odd for a human to give a shit about you, and you're not wrong to mistrust my intentions. But- I do care. I have no intentions of tricking you, or stabbing you in the back- or worse. I'm sorry if it's so confusing... I just want to help you, you deserve to be treated just as any other man." Just as any other man-

"N-Now, if you don't mind... I am... quite tired," she said, offering an apologetic smile as she moved past him, "So I'm going to catch some z's, but I'll set my alarm for early. We can go grab you some clothes and drop off your suit at the dry cleaners. I've got some errands I need to run anyway, so does that work for you?" He nodded slowly, though made no attempt to turn and look at her- "Yes. Well, if I am still here in the morning, of course..." He paused, waiting for her answer, waiting for some sign- "...I hope you will be," she said softly, voice as unrelenting and without any trace of hidden motivation, "I know it's strange, and I know despite being programmed to trust humans, you're probably deep down wondering when the other shoe will drop. And you should be wary - especially after all you've been through. It's on me to show you that I don't mean you any ill will, trust is... earned, not given. But I do promise you, Joe. I just want to help. Really. I'm happy I was able to get to you before the worst happened." And then her door was closed gently - and he turned to look at where she had been standing, eyes gazing at the now empty spot before turning to look into the room she had offered up to him to rest his wires in. The moon was in the window, bright and shining unto him just as it had in the forest with David in what had seemed like a lifetime ago. Real. He wondered in the back of his brain, if the woman behind the closed door was real just as the moon was now - perhaps - under the light of this real moon, his troubles were truly over. The thought was odd - foreign to him even. From the moment of his inception, he knew what he was, what his purpose was, and the irrefutable fact that one day he would become obsolete and thrown away. He had told David as much, hadn't he? So why did he now feel an unfamiliar feeling settle into his wires - unable to name what exactly it was?

After a moment, he turned to walk into the room that would be his, settling down in the chair beside the neatly made bed- eyes looking up into the night sky outside the window.

He had much to think on.

Chapter One: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV Next Chapter Masterpost

#gigolo joe #a.i artificial intelligence #gigolo joe x oc #gigolo joe fanfic

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goatedgreen · 2 years ago

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HI yes I have a handful of questions answer however u want em :3

Abbi: how does she feel about Loreina at the start of the story versus now? What's up with their relationship?

Frith: does he ever tie up his hair? If so with like scrunchies, braids, ponytails etc.

Felix: does he have any rings or jewelry for his tail?

Annora: what sort of projects does she get up?

Maria: in the art I've seen of her, her left eye is covered and there's a little bit of a scar visible. Would love to know the story there or a hint maybes :3

THESE QUESTIONS ARE SO FUN!!!! okay ill try answer them as best i can without revealing too much :)

Abbie: at the beginning of our story abbie is unfortunately a bit of an unintentionally shitty sister :( because of her magic, she gets a lot of attention from their father, the king, while growing up. but because of this attention, she becomes a little sheltered, and a little distracted from everything else, that includes her younger sister loreina. theres resentment there, but abbie is basically oblivious to any of this until she runs away and starts the rebellion, assuming loreina was just an angsty teenager. when she finds out her sister genuinely hates her, she's devastated and tries her hardest to mend the relationship between them

Frith: during his time locked away, and then later as part of the king's personal guard, friths hair is not given a lot of attention beyond making it presentable to the public, this sometimes included tying it back into a low ponytail for important events, but normally it was just left to do its own thing. once he escapes that environment, he finds that people really like braiding his hair, and he likes the comfort of being able to trust people to do that, so its often found woven with pretty ribbons or flowers :)

Félix: surprisingly ive never considered that before but hes totally the type to want to accessorise like that!! his powers work in such a way that his wings and tail arent always present (early on) but as the story progresses and his extra limbs are there for longer and longer, he finds ways to incorporate them more into his look. he suits gold jewellery:)

Annora: before the story begins and all the characters are introduced to each other, annora is the only one of them (excluding abbie) who is aware that she is.... connected to Some People. like... Weird People In Her Dreams Who Are Actually Real People In Real Life. she isnt content to just chalk it up to over active imagination, especially when, after extensive research, she tracks down these people from her dreams and find out theyre real fucking humans in the real world (apart from the girl with pink hair, who she cant find on any search engine or newpaper clipping). basically shes a full blown conspiracy theorist, except the "conspiracy" is her own fucking life and powers that make it impossible for her to leave her house because Dear God these plants are so fucking Loud in her head, and the animals are Rude to her, even if they're not communicating in any language she can understand, and damn if she enters another mall with all those Feelings in it she might bite through drywall. basically shes just really into finding the truth behind everything, which makes her great at uncovering all the things covered up by the King from this magical world shes suddenly thrust into

Maria: well spotted!! yes, maria has a large scar going over her left eye and down her cheek. i wont say much other than, if a child approached you with eyes as red as the devil, claiming to be able to "see you when you arent there" and always knows a persons next move... well it might make you a little fucking terrified, and some people aren't inclined to run away from what theyre afraid of, but rather try to elimate the threat.

#long post #cant use a readmore on this bc im on mobile so SORRY PEOPLE #oc stuff

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philtstone · 2 years ago

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for the prompt list, how about #16 for the Star Wars characters of your choice? 🪐✨

#16 -- our life was one block wide this is definitely a very abstract interpretation of the prompt and also one of the more incoherent au concepts ive run with but here u go <3 <3

"But I'd say your best bet will be homeschooling," Qui-Gon Jin is saying. "I had to switch myself, back when the kids were school age. It is a commitment, but a worthy one."

His long biker style ponytail is offset by the very lumpy and quite frankly ugly knit sweater he wears, and the thick plastic rims of his glasses. His kitchen door, which he had to duck a little to step through, stands open to let in the pale fall air and also to enhance the acoustics of the relative chaos running through the rest of his house. It seems to be full of people -- not too hard to guess who, given the line up of lopsided family photos lining the wall next to the ancient rain poncho and the three mismatched cars in the driveway -- which is … unexpected. When Din met Bo Katan's old college friend at the most recent political rally she’d dragged (read: blackmailed) him into attending, he had opened up out of desperation; even Bo Katan’s referrals were worth following up on when he had no other options. Except all Ahsoka Tano said, sipping the juice box she’d pilfered from the drinks table while Paz droned on about clan solidarity at the podium, was, You know, I think you’d do really well to talk to my dad.

And now here he is. Drinking apple tea out of definitely-homemade clay mugs and discussing educational philosophy with a total stranger, who looks like someone spliced Sons of Anarchy with like, an English teacher (Cara has been making him catch up on modern media). At least Greef and Cara were okay to babysit Grogu for the hour; otherwise Din wouldn’t know what to do at all.

Ahsoka’s foster father is still talking, it seems.

“Now, granted, it can be overwhelming. You could always try an alternative Montessori type institution – my eldest Obi-Wan’s working in that these days, though I can’t say I completely hold with their methods. But a boy with his ability and constitution, he might do fine in that sort of environment.”

“He’s just,” Din tries to come up with the words, “I don’t want him to feel like -- out of place.” Omera said nonverbal at six wasn’t unheard of, especially given none of them knew, really, what had happened before Din found him, but –

“Always tricky at that age,” Qui-Gon agrees wisely. He takes a long sip from his cooling cup while a loud thundering of footsteps sounds on the staircase just outside the kitchen door and one of the voices that had been going on in the background becomes more clearly audible, saying,

“Well, I wouldn’t have lost it if you didn’t leave all your old things in my room!”

“You own a literal apartment with your literal wife and children, Anakin!” calls back a second voice, in cheerful, overloud tones. This voice, at least, Din recognizes, “And I can use your old room for storage if I want to, Qui-Gon said so –”

“Please tell Snips to use Obi-Wan’s room for storage next time!” calls the first voice, matching that same easy cheerfulness and somewhat more directly aimed at the kitchen.

Amidst all this a teenaged girl with too much hair wanders in, picks up and bites into one of the leftover apples on the counter beside the stove, then says, proclaimative,

“Dad lost his screwdriver again.”

Qui-Gon gives Din a complicatedly fond look, like, Kids.

Din sweats. Grogu is a kid, his kid, but increasingly he is realizing that he has no idea what that means – the depth and implications of a child in his care. He probably wouldn’t even be here if not for the sheer dumb luck of his lovely widowed neighbour and Greef and Cara from the bar, and now homeschooling – Din never finished high school! He’s diplomaless! It doesn’t matter what Boba Fett says about corrupt institutions in the quiet moments between running security during happy hour, he can’t leave Grogu without opportunities in this economy –

“Hey,” says the girl, interrupting Din's mental doom spiral. “Wait a second. You’re the guy! From the afterschool program.”

“The – the afterschool program?” Din manages.

“Yeah, my brother Luke volunteers there. By Temple road? You were there last week to pick your kid up and he wanted to keep playing with the blocks.” She grins, a combination of cleverness and genuine care in her round cheeked face. “The adorable Dumbo ears, right?”

“He –” Din clears his throat. “Yes. My neighbour says he’ll grow into them.”

“I saw him run over to you at pickup time,” says the girl. “It was so sweet. You should’ve seen him, Grandpa, this guy’s a natural.”

“Leia’s an excellent judge of character,” says Ahsoka’s sudden voice, in time with her braided head poking into the kitchen. “You should listen to her. But later, because she’s late for soccer practice.”

“We’re late for soccer practice,” Leia says, though allows herself to be led out of the room, not before catching a second piece of fruit in her hands, this one tossed gracefully across the room by Qui-Gon himself. “Dad’s our coach. You’re assistant coach. The whole extracurricular is an enterprise in nepotism …”

The front door slams distantly behind them.

“I,” Din says, and then just sits there, for a moment, in total silence. He does remember the other day, at the after school program. He remembers the huge grin on Grogu’s face and the warm sticky feel of his cheek and his little fingers tangled in Din’s scarf, which was slightly singed because Greef had just introduced flaming cocktails to the menu and only total idiots drink flaming cocktails in the mid afternoon. He takes a deep breath and tries again. It never hurt anyone to try, Omera keeps reminding him, on the off days they have these weirdly deep chats when they take the garbage out at the same time. “Maybe – maybe if you had some of your … curriculum materials. To share.”

Qui-Gon looks immensely pleased. “That I do, Mr. Din Djarin. I’ll just go fetch them from upstairs. I’m sure your boy will take to them in no time.”

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saccharine-suffering · 2 years ago

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Naomi & Issac - 1

Remember these guys? Well I fleshed those suckers out. Prepare for suffering y'all.

CW: Pet whump, vampires, death mention, a lot of blood mentions, whumpee thinks caretaker is their new master

1.3k (though the first ~500 words are just me talking about my modern vampire lore)

~~~~~~

Naomi had been pacing for hours trying to rationalize what she did. ‘This is the best option,’ They told themself, “At least this way, I can make sure I’m getting blood ethically. No one has to die.’ They knew they had to drink something. When she first turned, she was quick to dress like the vampire she was and cut their hair to show off their bite. She loved the idea of being dark and mysterious, living as a cryptid- a beast. It sounds strange, but a part of her was excited to start living a vampiric life- well, maybe “life” isn’t quite right.

Then came the fading from mirrors and nausea from eating anything at all. Having to blow eighteen-hundred bucks on a casket was a bit of a gut punch. As were the several blackout curtains they needed to avoid third-degree sunburns. It was annoying to have to sell her silver jewelry and even more so to break out in hives when even slightly near a single fucking garlic clove–

But they could deal with all that. They could bite the bullet in exchange for immortality.

No one told Naomi that blood cravings were the very last step in turning.

Just when they had gotten used to waking up a 8pm in a box, right as they had grown accustomed to guessing what their hair and makeup might look like, exactly when the worst of it seemed to be over, there was this pit in their stomach. They were so thirsty. Before resorting to humans, they tried draining raw meat. Nothing. Then a live pig. It didn’t do much. They knew this would happen, of course it would, but they hadn’t expected it to be this painful, and they definitely didn’t know the blood had to be human.

So, they researched how to get human blood. And sure, you can buy a little legally from donors, but it was so far outside their budget that is was barely even an option. But the cheaper alternatives, aimed at vampires specifically, seemed so needlessly cruel. For every new company she could find, she asked how they supplied their blood. The response was always the same. Humans would be hooked up to IVs, blood coming out of one, and saline coming in from the other. Sometimes they ere given solid food, but at most places, they used a feeding tube. Naomi almost quit, residing themself to finding and extra $700 for 100 tiny milliliters- but then they saw one more hyperlink.

“Stop paying for subscriptions! Buy a living Bloodbag today!” Exactly as she thought, they were selling humans. She was disgusted at first, but, then she thought about it more. These people were being drained of their blood anyway, so if she buys one, at least they’ll be treated humanely? Maybe it was the thirst talking for them, but they decided to purchase a person.

They couldn’t afford another massive dent in their bank account, so they scrolled all the way down to the cheapest one. A twenty-seven year old man named Issac Rivera, blood type O+. That, and his picture, was the only information available. He was pale and sickly with blue eyes and tangled brown hair. He had blue eyes and it looked like he had finished crying moments before the photo was taken. Naomi hoped they were making the right choice.

Which is what landed them here. Waiting for the poor boy to be delivered straight to their door. She had tried to make herself look nonthreatening. She didn’t want to scare him. They wore the mast casual and normal clothes in their dresser and pulled their hair into a little baby ponytail.

A knock on the door.

It was an older looking man dressed in all black and carrying a parasol in one hand and a rolling suitcase in the other. Oh gods.

“Naomi Castillo?” He asked.

“That’s me.” They smiled. Their eyes wouldn’t leave the suitcase, since they were fairly certain that there was a person in there. He handed it over and she felt him kick.

“If you ever need training or extraction tools, they are available on our site.” It keeps getting worse.

“Of course, thank you.” Naomi hoped their smile looked real. The man walked away and she quickly unzipped the case.

Issac had been sold. He never thought it would happen. He had occasionally been compared to cheap box wine. Perhaps the vampire that bought him wanted something quick and inexpensive. The conversation between his captor and his new owner was muffled, but he felt the case he was in change hands. He instinctively covered the arteries on his neck. She was saying something, but he wasn’t listening. He knew exactly what would happen- she would rip his hand from him neck and drain what little he had left.

A hand touched his, and he braced for impact. But, he was being led away. Before he could question it, he was sat down on something soft. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet and he wasn’t planning on it. Next thing he knew, something cold was against his lips. Taking just a small peek, it was a water bottle. He shouldn’t trust it, but his mouth was so dry that he just let it go down his throat.

After the bottle pulled away, he waited for the pain of the bite. He waited and waited, but nothing came. Eventually, he opened his eyes and looked at the vampire next to him, as if he was asking her what she was waiting for. But they just smiled at him.

“Can you speak?” That wasn’t expected. He used to get told off for talking to himself.

“Yeah…” His voice was raspy. They handed him back the bottle.

“Okay, great, um, I’m Naomi!” They gestured to themself. Issac was going to introduce himself, but they already would have known. “Are you hungry?” Naomi arose from the sofa when he nodded, “I don’t have much, I got rid of most of the perishable stuff when I turned. Do you want… dry cereal? I can maybe put it in water- no that sounds gross.” Issac accidentally gave her a look. She was different from the other vampires he had the displeasure of knowing. A bit more dazed and certainly less elegant.

“Just… dry is fine.” He said. He had no reason to trust them, but he hadn’t had real, solid food in such a long time that if she was planning on drugging him, then he could live with that. He ate in completely awkward silence as Naomi tired not to make eye contact. Internally, Issac was panicking. Yes, he had been trained just in case he was sold, but he hadn’t been for such a long time that he barely even remembered it. Hopefully it would come rushing back to him when he was properly fed and rested.

“Uh, I put a mattress in a spare room. Do you wanna go to bed?” It’s like they read his mind. Can vampires read minds? He didn’t know. He was tired. He nodded.

She led him away gently, and closed the door, leaving him alone in the makeshift bedroom. He didn’t have the energy to consider what was going to happen to him. Naomi was weird. Maybe it wasn’t even real. He’s had these kind of dreams before. Maybe when he wakes up he’ll be back in the facility with needles in his arms and a tube down his nose. Or maybe he’ll wake up here and she’ll peirce him with her fangs. He always wondered what a real bite would feel like. It would probably hurt worse than the needle.

Whatever. He could worry about that when he can keep his eyes open.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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The Five Scares (and one revenge)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤

Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them.

Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.

Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.

“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.

They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.

“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.

“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.

“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.

“Yup.“

It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.

Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out.

However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.

Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.

Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.

While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.

“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“

The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“

For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.

“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.

III

Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.

They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.

Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.

However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.

As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.

When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.

A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.

“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.

Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...

“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.

Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.

Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.

“Whatya cooking over there babe?“

Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.

A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.

“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“

Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?

“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.

“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“

“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.

“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.

Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.

The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.

“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.

So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”

Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.

~ ~ ~

Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.

Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.

The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.

“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“

Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.

They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”

Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.

And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.

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ballisticmarking · 3 years ago

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the reason i hate ace attorney's "older version" character designs is bc they all get future-luked instead of having any amount of thought put into them. it doesnt feel like theyve grown up at all, theyre stuck in their original shell & it falls completely flat

(comparisons under the cut)

for those who dont know what im talking abt when i say future-luked

(spoilers for a 14 yr-old game lol) it made sense for "future luke"/clive's design to be like a stretched out luke, w the same haircut & pretty much the same clothes, bc he was trying to emulate an older version of him — based entirely on his current appearance. he couldnt predict how luke would ACTUALLY look like as an adult

meanwhile, luke's real older design has got to be one of the best ive seen in any media franchise

he has a different haircut, color palette AND clothing style, yet he's instantly recognizable as our beloved little luke triton.... he looks like he's matured over the years, but retains the playfulness thats so characteristic to him

but im here to talk abt ace attorney designs :)

so let's take a look at some of them!

.........do u see what im getting at </3

pearl is obviously the worst offender im not even gonna say anything. how do you stay the EXACT SAME between the ages of 9 and 16

ive seen dozens upon dozens of fan designs for older maya, all of which were vastly superior to what we got so like they had ZERO excuse for this. wheres the creativity??????? they couldve given her some cool ass master medium clothes but they just opted to make her robe longer????? get OUT of here this is literally the worst they couldve done

as for edgeworth i think it wouldve been nice to see him distance a little bit more from his perfectly prim & proper style (obviously without taking away the ruffles). i rlly liked the concept art of him w longer hair in a low ponytail, that wouldve been rlly good

ema's an exception; her older design is very nicely done but thats bc she was designed for aa4 and i think iwamoto helped out w it

(then in soj they STILL managed to fuck her up by randomly giving her green eyes, bigger tits and overall daintier proportions bc shes a ~woman~. but thats neither here nor there)

in conclusion stop future-lukeing ace attorney characters it looks fucking stupid

#im only fine w phoenix's future-lukesque design bc hes the face of the series #so u cant change him up too much if u want him to stay as the main protag #ace attorney #max.txt

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broiunno · 3 years ago

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License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

---

summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

-----------------------------------------------

You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

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