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laurorne · 5 months

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༊*·˚ HE MADE A SLAVE OF ME | daemon targaryen x targtower!reader, minor aegon ii targaryen x twin wife!reader

summary: confined to the sullen walls of the red keep, there isn’t far you’re afforded to wander. entertained only by the people you silently watch, you find excitement in the visit of your older sister and uncle. though the latter is far more appealing to spend the night with, and more willing.

warnings: nsfw, minors dni, targaryen incest (uncle x niece), porn with minimal plot, p in v, rough sex, slapping, degradation, masochism, blood play?, praise kink, breath play/choking, breeding kink, a lil’ stomach bulge, cheating on both halves, swearing, inaccurate high valyian (i tried?), weird pure bloodline shit, fiending for that valyrian d, hightowerphobic daemon, bastardphobic reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: daemon is so ugly but he’s so hot it’s so bad. okay, i can’t see daemon as a rough lover except maybe with a cunty targtower so this was the only way i could bring myself to write this 😭 (this was my inspo for this entire fic, bless tiktok editors 🙏🏼🙏🏼)

As a daughter of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, you'd found that most people bent to your will regarding requests. The lords would bend over twice fold if it meant a chance at earning your hand, and the girls at court dared not step a foot before you in the case you'd remove them from your entourage of highborn ladies.

With eyes so doe-like and lips like honey, one would mistake you for just that, a doe, not the dragon draped beneath green silk that shifted like flames in a hearth.

That's how you'd created yourself. How you'd curated each step and each titter of laughter, every slow blink at every lord and all those tight lipped smiles at ladies of court who came too close to your family.

People at court had said that you were the best half of your twin brother, that he had taken all the bad traits so you could shine as the darling of the realm. Poor, sweet Aegon. Ever the scapegoat and always the perpetrator.

So as you sit across from your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you find yourself rather... without.

He sits beside your half-sister. A beautiful glow on her skin as she laughs along with something your father had said. She's stunning, Valyrian in every sense of the word. With her pale hair and aquiline nose, you can see why she was adored.

Other than the Realm's utter Delight, dinner is less than… familial.

Everyone can clearly see the divide between both sides of House Targaryen. The Hightowers sat to the right of the King, the mix of Targaryen and brown-haired Velaryon to his left. You find no warmth in this arrangement, other than false pretenses of civility and feigned love for each other, the entire affair is only for show of the poor old King.

Though there is an affair that consumes your thoughts, a tryst that would no doubt end messily. So you opt to speak with your family, with a spare glance thrown his way just to divulge yourself after all these years of self-control.

Daemon understands the weight of your gaze on him. Even from across the table he can feel the way your eyes trace his features, the way you're devouring him without lifting your fork or grinding your teeth or even touching him. Your supposed indifference to the sides that the house of the dragons has taken makes his fingers twitch around his goblet. You're speaking with Baela and Rhaena as if you've sat beside them in court for years, doting on their new dresses and telling them snippets of what they've missed at the Red Keep.

Jacaerys' gaze is flittering over to your figure every couple of seconds, eyes dipping to your dangerously low neckline of your green dress, every time you laugh and your chest heaves he looks away like a wide-eyed virgin. Red at the ears as he scolds Lucerys for holding a fork wrong, Daemon guesses, with the way the older boy points to another utensil.

And your family, gods.

Your twin brother, Aegon, is attempting to drink away his sorrows but you're always quick to scoop the cup out of his grasp and palm it off to a servant. The fool simply allows you, resigning to watch everyone speak as you have him by the balls practically. And to still have him fawning over you, his pretty little twin-wife, is absurdity.

Aemond is glaring daggers at Rhaenyra's boys and Helaena is off in an entire world of her own.

When he looks back to you and finds those lilac-coloured iris' already poised on him, his jaw clenches and he takes another pass at his Dornish wine. The way your hair falls in pure white curls around your face and frames the heavy gorget necklace that adorns your neck, inlaid with moonstone and rubies that look eerily similar to the ones from the Conquerors crown. Spoiled Hightower brat.

Daemon is far from naïve. He's been apart of how many wars?

He's a seasoned veteran to these types of women, to their greedy plans and treacherous thoughts.

Though... that colouring that she has, so clearly a staple of House Targaryen, he's not so convinced that he's entirely immune. He's sure that his nephew is beyond stupid to not have made you a mother sooner. With tits like that and eyes so sweet? He'd have you swollen with babe two moons after your last birth.

He watches the way you lick a droplet of wine from the corner of your mouth, watches the way your eyes flicker from Jacaerys to him, and he can see it then. Something so wanton in your gaze.

Perhaps paying a visit to his dear, sweet niece tonight would not be such a bad thought.

You arch up into the touch —his touch— as shivers run along the length of your spine. His hand smooths over the swell of your breast in response, easing your ache as you squirm for more. It travels over the fat of it until his fingers pinch roughly at your nipple. A stuttering breath punches its way from your throat as he stares down at your face.

“So eager, aren’t we?” He admires the way your lips part, the way your eyes dance back into focus and meet his heated gaze. The way you seek out the eye contact. Want to know he’s watching the show you’re putting on.

Just as you’re forming the vowels on the tip of your tongue, he’s grabbing a fistful of your thigh and pushing his hips impossibly closer to yours. It makes you shudder, makes you want all the more. But there is no give to his press, he’s seated far too deeply inside you to move any further in. He’s pulling his hips back just the smallest fraction before he starts inching back in, heavy and hot and oh-so deep it burns.

Your tongue swipes over your lips, your hand moving to clutch onto the arm that props him up above you. The thickly corded muscle makes holding onto him all the easier, makes your cunt flutter and your chest heave and your eyes water. He’s so large, far different from your husband, this pure-blooded Valyrian —this man— he’s encompassing your body and stuffing you all at the same time, filling, holding and folding you how he wants.

You move to weave your fingers into the loose strands of his hair but the hand that was cradling your thigh is quick to grasp your wrist, tugging the appendage away as he begins dragging his hips back. “Where did all your words go, dōna riña?” (sweet girl)

You swallow thickly, fingers balling up as he oh-so slowly pulls out til’ just the tip rests in you. It’s agonising, having been so full not even moments ago, you feel empty. It’s involuntary, the way your hips lift towards him, cunt greedily taking him as you stifle the way your breath hitches. His thighs tense up as he groans, fingers tightening around your wrist as his hips rock forwards just the tiniest bit.

“Daemon, please.” It’s breathy, spoken from someplace in your chest that you feel with every inch of your body. “I want you.”

Your eyes only just catch the tic in his jaw as he drops your wrist, immediately grabbing a fistful of your tit and pushing back into you. Hips meeting flush as he glares down at you. The grip he’s got on your fit fucking hurts, but you’d be damned if it doesn’t set all your nerves on fire.

“Ilībio,” He all but snarls. (whore)

You don’t even register the next thrust before he’s pulling out again. He leans forward, large hand coming to press down onto your throat. His fingers curl around your neck —encompassing it entirely as he presses down onto you— using you for leverage as he fucks into you.

You moan, mouth falling open as he uses your body and paws at your tit messily. You can feel the flesh spill from between his fingers, feel the sensitive peak rubbing against his rough palm.

It’s driving you insane.

The hand leaves your tit, moving to the next and grabbing on just as roughly. He hits a particularly forceful thrust that has you jolting up the bed, back arching up as you whine. Your legs curl around his hips, thighs bouncing with each stroke, making a distinct slapping as he fucks you into the plush sheets of your bed. You roll your pelvis to the rhythm he sets, it’s practised, timed and purely filth.

“You belong in the,” He pauses as he sneers down at you, watching his cock sink deep into your tight little cunt. “Street of Silk.”

You can only sigh out a breath as his hand clamps down on your throat, your air coming in short bursts only when he pulls out to thrust back in.

“Your husband mustn’t have fucked you well enough.” He thrusts violently on husband, heavy cock bullying its way back into you as your cunt clenches.

His words are driving you closer to the edge, making you feel all the slicker as he fucks you, uses you like he’s your husband. Like you belong to him. Like you’re the sister he married in the ways of Old Valyria —in the ways of your house— in blood and fire.

The thick drag of his dick brings you back from your cock drunk haze, his words ringing in your brain as he watches your lashes flutter.

“Tight like a Lyseni virgin,” He buries himself into you until oxygen evades you entirely, all his weight resting on your throat as he leans in, licking a stripe up your throat and biting at your pulse point. “Wet like a pillow house whore.”

You writhe beneath him, fingers curling into the thickly corded forearm that presses you down into the bed, he teasingly slows to a stop only to rocks forwards. Watching your eyes turn hazy as your hips twitch up onto him. Jerkily grinding onto him as you struggle to take a breath.

“Struggling to breathe and you still want me to fill you, tala.” He smiles down at you, lifting a hand from your throat to caress the bone of your cheek. “So desperate for it.”

Oh, how badly you want to spit an insult at him. How badly you want to punch him and pull on his hair and suck marks into the muscled line of his shoulder.

He lifts the heel of his palm slightly, just when the edge of your vision was beginning to cloud. A quick respite of air before he’s pressing a bruising kiss to your pouty lips. Teeth digging into your bottom lip as he fully cups the side of your face. Tongue pressing into your mouth intrusively as he overwhelms you. Full of cock, his tongue, and being pinned to the bed by the entire weight of him.

The red hot coil in your stomach is cooling quickly, fading away into nothing as he devours you in the most deliciously possessive kiss you’ve ever had. His thumb presses roughly into the bone of your cheek as he thrusts gently into you. There’s a bloom of pain in your lip as he begins pulling away, teeth biting your bottom lip as he lifts himself back up. Blood smears your pearly white teeth, and you can taste it on your tongue.

Your chest heaves as you grab a fistful of his hair, pulling his face back down so you can kiss him roughly. You practically consume him with this kiss, wanting and needy as you fight to gain control. He pants out a chuckle, thumb pulling on your chin as he licks over the cut and your teeth. Your fingers tangle in his white strands and you give a sharp tug, the rasp that escapes him sends a needy throb through your cunt. But you take his unfocus as a chance to lick into his mouth, cunt throbbing as his lower half folds you over, sinking into you so deeply it makes your hips twitch and writhe in pain.

You fight against the pain, neck aching as you crane up against his weight, biting his lip harshly until you feel the break of his skin between your teeth. Blood mixing in your mouths as he pants into your mouth, thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth as he looks down at you with something akin to satisfaction.

“Smile, tala.” (niece)

You breath in shallowly, greedily taking in air that you neglected yourself of.

“Uh-uh,” He squeezes your cheeks together, until your lips pout and he presses down onto your jaw hard. “Smile.”

And you do, lips pulling up as best they can with his fingers holding your jaws apart. He lets his fingers loosen so he can watch your teeth peak out from beneath your abused and bloody lips. You can guess that you both look the same, blood staining your teeth a burning carmine. The colour of House Targaryen.

“Good girl.” His voice is condescending as he pats your cheek roughly, pushing himself back up, and sitting back on his knees as he stares down at you through wispy strands of platinum hair. Dick sitting heavy inside you, fill to the point of it being a bit hard to breathe. Your sheets reeks of sweat and sex, and the iron tang of blood sits in the air and on your tongues.

His hands smooth over your thighs, thumb running along a pink scar nestled closely to your knee.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, tits on full display while you look up at him through those pretty lashes, admiring the scars that mar the pale skin of his torso and the blood the runs a rivulet down his chin. “What are yo-“

He unwraps your legs from his waist, grabbing at the back of your thighs and pushing them towards you. You whine at the sudden movement, the blunt tip of him nudging against what the deepest parts of you. Pressing you in half with ease until he can hold your legs against his chest with one arm. The other coming to rest against the soft spot of your stomach as he hovers over you.

“Fucking an heir into you,” He presses a quick kiss to your calf before he’s snapping his hip forward and pressing down on your stomach. And that’s when you feel him. You let out a breathy moan as he fucks you, with your back arched toward him as you let him take you.

Like a virgin during her bedding ceremony.

His fingers leave pale prints in your skin as he grips onto the meat of your thighs so tightly. His thighs slapping against the backs of your legs while he fucks his length into you. With his arm wound tightly around your knees, there’s no way you can move or adjust or even move with him, you’re practically in his lap as he uses your hipbone for leverage.

Choked-out pants and whiny breaths are the only noise you can make as the hand that was holding your legs together drifts to your soaked pussy. Thumb slipping through until he bumps into your clit —he can tell by the way your tits heave and your cunt clenches impossibly tighter— and he can’t help but snicker as he presses down onto the poor thing. Hands used for more than just sword fighting, skilled in pleasing wives long gone that were no doubtingly three times older than you, are so deliciously textured.

“Hightower votrītsos nȳmagon wal morghūljagon.” Your maternal house is spat with hatred, he punctuates it with thrusts that grow more violent as he claims you. (hightower cunt calls men to die.)

“Iksā kempa isse nyke, issi ao daor, kepa?” You heave the sentence, attempting to speak without falter as he continues his selfish pleasure seeking manhandling. (you are heavy in me, are you not uncle?)

He grunts, nose scrunching up for a moment as a strand of hair dangles between his eyes. Silver locks messy. His thumb flicks over your clit again —a full-bodies shudder follows— so he can stare intently at your bouncing tits without the chatter.

“Aōha Valyrio Eglie jorrāelagon mirre.” (your High Valyrian needs work)

You admire the way his hair falls to his shoulders, undone from its hairstyle tonight at dinner, the slope of his shoulders to the plains of his front. A battlefield of cut muscle and scars that create ridges and valleys. Your eyes dart up as his nails cut into the skin of your calf, his lip curls up as his eyes finally drift from the harsh jerk of your pliable body beneath him, to your lilac eyes.

His eyes are dark, ringed by what little purple you can see in the darkness of your lonely chambers. The way he looks down at you, the look of curiosity, of lust, of hatred, it burns in your throat and makes your thighs quiver as he just stares.

You could nearly compare it to the way Aegon admires his cups, the way he drinks in every hitch of your breath, the way he huffs your scent, the stutter in his hips at every flutter of your cunt around him.

(Akin to Aegon’s lust for Dornish import wine, he drinks you in and savours the way your body begs for the extra inch.)

Your fingers tangle up in the silken sheets of your bed as you stutter, stomach quivering as he keeps his hips in motion, brining you oh-so close to your peak. Though it’s barely enough, used to the drunken fumble of your twin, you need a rougher edge, a little more pain. He’d just need a push.

“Iksā iā buzdari naejot kasta orvorta. Hae se dārys.” (you are a slave to green cunt. like the king)

He hums, brows pinching together as his thrusts grow sloppy and unpractised, like the green boy your husband had been on your wedding day.

“Kostilus ziry ūndan mirros hae bisa,” He circles your clit roughly, pad of his thumb rubbing deliciously against your slick cunt. “gōvilagon aōha muña grēza.” (perhaps he saw something like this, beneath your mothers dress.)

You let out a strangled moan, hips rocking up to meet his every thrust. The coil in your stomach is tightening and heating and making your thighs twitch and tense, and he doesn’t seem to take the movement kindly. The rhythm stutters when he forces one of your legs to his side as he surges forward to capture your mouth in a crushing kiss. Your other leg is caught over his shoulder as he moves in and it stretches muscles you hadn’t know existed in your legs as he bullies his way deeper and deeper, like he owns you, like your his to ruin.

“I would have loved taking your maidenhead.” He breaths the word into your mouth as the cuts on your lips open anew, smearing blood across your mouths, cheeks and noses. The kiss he pulls you into next is careless and messy, all knocking teeth and hot breathes.

“I- I’m,” He cuts you off by wrapping his hand back around your throat, pinning you down as his nose buries itself in the hair on the side of your head.

A blinding heat curls in your stomach and your cunt flutters around the abusive cock he fucks you with. The one leg that wasn’t pinned between you both is quick to pull his hips flush to you as you moan wantonly, though it’s smothered by his hand. Chest heaving and pale baby hairs sticking to your forehead as your lashes flutter closed. Taking the last few cants of Daemon’s hips as he finishes inside you, spilling deep inside you with heavy panting accompanied by a groan.

Everything is all warm, floating in your soft bed as the heavy man above you lets his weight onto you fully. Cock keeping you stuffed with his seed.

The hand on your throat drifts to your hair —you gulp down air as you feel an ache begin to form— deft fingers stroking at the loose strands behind your ear as he breathes in the perfume oil of the Dragons Breath flowers you'd chosen for tonight.

“I may take you to wife, with a cunt like that.” He murmurs, fingers tightening around those stray strands of hair as he lifts his face to meet yours. Pupils blown wide as he rolls his hips to nestle nicely between yours. That leg wedged between you both falling loose, and landing on the bed softly.

Oh?

That sentence shouldn't have made you so giddy, nor should it make a delighted grin pull across your bruised lips.

A plan well curated is always fruitful.

TAGS: @avalyaaa

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #targaryen incest

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daughterofyore · 1 year

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How would George behave while you were pregnant?

a/n;; a little headcannon about how George would act while you, his queen were pregnant. summary;; George caring for you and how I believe he would treat you throughout your queenly pregnancy.

contents;; sickening amount of fluff, almost smothering amount of love, pregnancy, birth, !!W!!;; vomiting

wc;; 566 music inspo;; falling in love

In the early stages of your pregnancy he would be an excited mess. Constantly asking if you were sure you were pregnant, just because he wanted to make sure he was being blessed with a little baby.

When a doctor would arrive to confirm the pregnancy, he would be at your side. Peppering your knuckles and cheek with kisses. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, only loud enough for you to hear.

He would demand you move to his room so that he may take care of you. He wouldn’t trust the staff to care for you and would adopt the jobs of helping you dress, get baths etc. Nothing would stop him caring for his wife and the mother of his child.

The morning sickness would break his heart, seeing you convulsing above a toilet bowl. He would be by your side in moments, in fact if he was busy and heard you weren’t feeling well he’d sprint to be by your side.

He’d hold your hair back as you are sick, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. Giving you gentle encouragement.

“That’s it dearest, you’ll be okay.”

“I am here my love.”

“Once this has passed I’ll wrap you up and lay with you.”

He’d be an absolute fiend when it came to baths. He’d be so doting, carefully filling the bath with warm water and topping it off with different (safe) dried flowers.

He’d wash you, allowing you to just relax.

He’d constantly be touching your growing belly, speaking to the baby growing inside.

“Hello my little darling. I am so excited to meet you.”

At night he’d hold you close, even in his sleep he’d be reaching for you and pulling you to be flush with him. His hand would almost always be splayed across your stomach.

He’d pay special attention to foods which made you sick and the cravings. He’d take it upon himself to go and retrieve your cravings from the kitchen, even going as far as too learn how to make them. He’d take lessons with the chef to make sure they tasted great.

Anything you wanted, whenever you wanted you can be sure he’d be making it happen.

He’d set up a comfy nook in the observatory, as the pair of you lay down he’d point to different stars and tell you their names. He’d trace constellations with his index finger.

When it came time to give birth he’d race to your side, probably coming from a meeting or a kingly duty.

If anyone tried to stop him from entering the room he’d diminish them to nothing, ripping into them. How dare they try to prevent him from being by your side, he’d push by them and deal with them later.

As you would be in labour he’d be on the bed at your side, holding you and brushing your hair out of your face. He would encourage you to no end.

He’d be nervous, but extremely excited to see his little family grow together.

He would be so proud of you, pressing little kisses to your forehead. His heart would break at seeing you in pain, though.

When it would be all said and done and the baby would cry, he’d cradle it as he lay beside you. His heart swelling with love at seeing his perfect child and beautiful wife at his side.

#bridgerton #bridgerton series #bridgerton smut #bridgerton spoilers #king george bridgerton #king george iii #king george x f!reader #king george x reader #queen charlotte #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton men #bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton family

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eddiesghxst · 10 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 10/12)

helloooo, here are these two messy cuties once again, i hope you enjoyyy

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: time is almost up but who could deny a good karaoke session?

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, sexual themes, slight angst, those awkward/cringey scenes where they're singing (i apologize in advance), and lots of mixed feelings <3

word count: 3.9k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy hehe:

Steve and Robin love karaoke.

Nancy had warned you that the friendly pair practically fiend for a good karaoke sesh, but you hadn’t expected them to be as enthusiastic as they turned out to be.

For some odd reason, the city seems less busy today, so you, Eddie, and Eddie's friends can take up as much room as you’d like on the sidewalk.

In front of you, Robin and Steve are seriously debating what the first song on the queue will be. Walking just a few paces behind them is Nancy, who’s quietly taking in the city's bright lights; and next to you, palm burning a hole through your hand with his addicting touch, is Eddie.

It’s stupid, you think. The way Eddie has seen you stripped down and bare, whining and quivering for him at what could arguably be your most vulnerable state, yet you still find your heart racing 100 miles a minute with this soft gesture of holding hands.

Sure, you’ve held his hand before, but not for this long. Not in public when it’s not the heat of the moment and you’re simply walking around. It’s weird and new, and it makes your stomach twist in a good way, but fuck— you chicken out when Robin and Steve turn to face you, Nancy, and Eddie.

“Steve wants to start karaoke with Queen— like any karaoke amateur would.” Robin huffs as Steve rolls his eyes. You slip your hand from Eddie’s hold before either of them can clock the gesture, and you avoid looking at Eddie when he clears his throat.

“Because it’s the perfect opener!” Steve stresses. “Everybody always does, Queen, Steve! Plus, I’m not even sure I can physically pull through with how long their songs are.” Robin argues.

Steve’s jaw dropped as if Robin had just said the most foul thing he’d ever heard, “Their songs are not that long. And even if they are, they’re fucking amazing, so what’s your point.” “My point is we’re not starting the night with Queen.”

They’re an interesting group of friends, you’ll admit. Interesting in the sense that you swear they could be a part of some sitcom with how funny and unpredictable their conversations and interactions are.

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, Steve and Robin have an entire list of songs mentally queued up, and they make a beeline to the DJ operating the music as you and Nancy snag a table towards the middle of the room. The bar is to one side of the room while the stage is at the front, and the DJ booth is at the back; the rest of the room is full of tables where people chatter, laugh over drinks, and sing along with whoever is currently doing their performance. Eddie had split off to get drinks the second you entered the bar, so it’s just you and Nancy as you settle at the wooden table.

“Are you going to sing?” Nancy questions from the other side of the table. You pull a face, shrugging your shoulders up to your ears, “I’m not sure, maybe once I get a few drinks in me. How about you?” Nancy softly laughs with a playful roll of her eyes, “Unfortunately, I doubt Robin will let me escape this one.”

As if summoned, Robin slides into the seat right next to Nancy. “I put you down together, but there’s a few people ahead, so start thinking of the song you’ll sing.” She gestures between you and Nancy. You shrug, accepting defeat, and before you can pitch an idea for a song to Nancy, Robin is leaning her elbows against the table and blinking at you, “So, let’s cut to the chase. What’s going on between you and Eddie?” She asks.

Nancy’s eyes widen as she instinctively jabs her elbow into Robin’s ribs, “Ow!” “Rob, you can’t just ask people that— god.” You softly laugh as Robin rubs at her sore side. “Sorry if I’m interested in keeping tabs on my friend!” Robin sarcastically argued.

Nancy rolls her eyes and sends you an apologetic look. “Look, I’m just guessing— based on the fact that you two were in the back of a fancy restaurant— that something is going on. Oh— unless this is, like, a business thing, then you can totally ignore me.” Robin rambles.

“Robin,” Nancy stresses. Your cheeks seem to ache from the amused expression on your face as Nancy turns to you, “You don’t have to answer either way since it’s none of our business.” She says, voice raising near the end as she glares at Robin. Robin rolls her eyes, and you laugh with a shake of your head as you shift in your seat. “No, it’s fine, I understand, but um,” You shrug, “It’s just a business thing.” You finally answer.

And, technically, you’re not wrong. There is a business transaction going on between you and Eddie… and the rest of the band, which is primarily the basis of your relationship, but you’re not sure how appropriate it would be to say, ‘Yeah, I mean, Eddie hated me, but now he doesn’t, so then we fucked yesterday but then his manager basically told us to squash whatever that was, so now we’re kind of in a weird spot because we don’t hate each other but we can’t like each other. Oh yeah, and here’s the kicker, Eddie’s been a total asshole this entire time, and it’s fucked with my head a bit. But apparently, he wants to change!’

It’s a colorful mess of loopholes and twists and turns that probably nobody will fully understand aside from you and Eddie, so…. business thing it is.

Robin seems to take that as an answer, but Nancy is now intrigued by your tone, “That didn’t sound very sure.” She playfully raises a suggestive eyebrow. Robin hums, “What happened to it being none of our business?” She points out, to which Nancy just waves a dismissive hand in response. “It’s a business thing, but…” Nancy prods. Your face warms as you lift your shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, it’s… it’s complicated.”

Nancy nods with a shrug as she shifts in her seat, “So, how did you two meet?”

You take a deep breath as you lean to rest your elbows on the table, “Well, I’m a writer for Rolling Stone magazine—” Robin gasps, grabbing your attention, “No shit? Nancy’s a journalist too— ow!” She turns to look at Nancy with a disgruntled look as she rubs her thigh, “Would you stop bullying me?” She frowns.

Before either of them can get far into bickering, Eddie and Steve come waltzing back to the table with drinks in their hands. Eddie snags a seat beside you and passes a drink to you; you smile as you gratefully take the glass and softly thank him. Steve plops down next to Robin, sliding her and Nancy their drinks as he says, “Alright, I hope everyone has their songs picked out because I plan on battling each and every one of you.”

Although the weather outside is on the more chilly side of summer days, you find your body warm with liquor and laughter as you, Nancy, and Eddie watch a tipsy pair of Steve and Robin sing a surprisingly good rendition of Huey Lewis’ Heart and Soul. You’ve shrugged off your sweater and tossed it over the back of your chair— and you’re thankful to have thrown on a tank top underneath because, most of the time, you hardly bother to wear anything beneath sweaters.

It’s their fourth song of the night, Eddie and Nancy have both gone up at least once, but you’ve been on the observant side mostly, enjoying the ongoing conversations you’ve had with Nancy. There’s a bowl of chips and salsa in the middle of the table, and Eddie’s arm is draped across the back of your chair, heat pouring from him and seeping all around to wrap you up in an Eddie-scented bubble— it’s nicer than you’d care or like to admit.

Nancy has turned around to watch and cheer on the performance; she’s become more animated and loose after a few drinks, and you laugh as Robin practically serenades her from the stage. You lean back in your chair, softly giggling as you slightly lean into Eddie, “So,” you grab your drink and glance at the boy on your side, “What’s the dynamic here?” You ask with a jut of your chin towards his friends.

Eddie hums, leaning further into his chair, and in turn, pressing himself closer to you. His breath is warm against your ear and cheek, curly strands brushing against your skin as he speaks, “So basically,” He dramatically sighs, and you smile at his dramatics as he gestures between his friends, “Nancy and Steve are exes from high school and Robin and Steve are best friends.” You nod, gaze darting between the friends as you connect the dots. “But,” He raises a finger over his glass, “Robin and Nancy are dating now.” Your eyebrows raise at the full circle of events, but you nod as your suspicions are finally confirmed.

Eddie leans closer, voice dropping to a lower volume, “But at this rate, it’s safe to say Nancy’s playing third wheel for Steve and Rob since they practically share one brain cell.” You tilt your head, “Okay, I see it now.”

Nancy glances over her shoulder to glare at you and Eddie from her seat, “I heard that, assholes… you’re not wrong.” She grumbles. You and Eddie laugh as she turns back to face you both now that Steve and Robin are hopping off the stage.

“Steve’s actually seeing a girl now; she’s in nursing school.” Nancy pipes up, grabs a chip, and pops it into her mouth. Eddie leans forward at that, keeping his arm on your chair as he uses the other to grab a chip for himself, “Nursing school?”

Nancy nods as she sips her drink, “He goes down to see her like every other weekend. And they run our phone bill up like hell.”

Robin plops down into her seat, “What are we talking about? Steve’s hot nurse babe?” She asks, humming when Nancy nods. Robin scoffs as she turns to Eddie, “Can you believe they’ve been dating for, like, four months, and we have yet to even see a picture of her? They see each other every week!”

Eddie snorts, “Then who’s he talking to on the phone?” Robin shrugs, “Who knows at this point.”

Steve returns as if on cue, sitting down with a sigh as he glances at the table, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, just talking about your imaginary girlfriend.” Robin teases.

Steve groans, eyes rolling before glaring at his giggling friends— your cheeks hurt from smiling. “She’s real, okay? She’s real, and her name is Cassie, and the only reason you haven’t met her yet is because she’s literally in nursing school— she has a busy schedule!”

And although you wish Eddie and you had been able to finish your discussion without the abrupt interruption, you find yourself growing fond of this shade of Eddie— sure, you’ve seen him having fun and being unapologetically himself with Gareth and Jeff and even on stage, but this side of Eddie is softer— kinder, brighter— homey.

You realize as you watch him singing his heart out to some mainstream pop song that Steve somehow talked him into doing. You’re more surprised that Eddie knows the lyrics, but you’re too tipsy to dwell on it because Nancy’s scooting onto the chair beside you and asking what song you two should sing because, “We have to outsing them, obviously.”

And, well, you hardly have the time to stop your lips before you lean in and tell her the song you’d like to sing. Nancy snickers, giggling at the obvious undertone of the chosen song, and she eagerly agrees because “He’s gonna shit his pants.”

You go back and forth on who will take which role— who will sing Tom Petty’s key, and who will sing Stevie Nicks's key— but then you eventually land on just singing together for the entirety of the song. When the boys finish their song, Nancy drags you up to the DJ to request the song and magically persuades him to let you skip the queue of people to go next. She’s a good flirt, that’s indisputable.

You should probably thank Nancy at some point for agreeing to this song regardless of how little information she has about your situationship with Eddie, but before you even get the chance to, you and Nancy are already singing the first line of the song— Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door. Same old line you used to use before— and well, Eddie’s head has never turned his head faster, but you avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

And you’re doing good; you’re doing so good, and then you get to the second chorus and lock eyes with Eddie as you sing along to the track with Nancy— Baby, you could never look me in the eye. Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world. Stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my heart around— and, well… you think you made your point clear.

You and Nancy have a blast singing to Nicks and Petty, and when the song ends, the bar claps and cheers as they do after every performance, and you’re all smiles as you waltz back to the table, sitting next to the fidgeting boy you’d just indirectly serenaded. Steve and Robin are telling you and Nancy how well you did and teasing each other over specific parts of the performance, and they’re all so caught up in one another that they hardly notice as Eddie leans into your space, voice low and gravely as he speaks, “That was cruel, princess.”

You look at him, eyes falling to the ghost of a smirk that dances across his lips before you reach forward to grab your drink, wrapping your lips around the thin, black straw, maintaining eye contact as you shrug, “Did you get the hint?” You tease.

Eddie huffs around a laugh, shifting in his seat, left arm back to barricading the back of your chair, and you don’t fail to notice the tent in the crotch of his jeans. He rolls his tongue over his teeth, snickering when you raise an eyebrow, “Yeah… Yeah, I got the hint.” He nods, and you think you might see a pink tint dusting across his cheeks.

You smile, liquor making you bold as you blink up at him, “Good.”

It’s a long trip to the hotel with a pair of drunk best friends.

They ramble a lot— Steve and Robin— you come to find out, and Nancy and Eddie have become experts at handling them with ease. You realize this as you watch them get their friends tucked into bed. Nancy is tipsy, but Eddie informed you that she has a weird thing with tequila where she becomes highly functioning, so she’s moving about the room with grace and precision.

When the drunk pair is finally tucked into bed, Nancy walks you and Eddie to the door of the hotel room, thanking you for taking the time to make sure they got in safe. “I would say see you at breakfast, but I doubt these two will have crawled from the grave by then.” Nancy gestures back to Robin and Steve.

You don’t blame them; they’re basically on holiday, and you would do the same.

Your and Eddie’s rooms are on a different floor, and it’s a long ride up to the top, especially with the burning desire for one of you to say something— what, you’re not sure.

“I like your friends.”

That was you talking, you realize when Eddie turns to you with a smirk, “Yeah? They didn’t scare you off with their incessant shithead behavior?” He jokingly questions. You hum with a laugh, “I’ve dealt with worse.” You tease.

Eddie walks you to your room, his intoxicating smell and presence hovering around you as you unlock the door before stepping in. You turn around, hand resting on the edge of the door as you look at the curly-haired boy, “Good night, Eddie.”

Eddie hums, leaning against the door frame, eyes flickering to the twist of your mouth before reaching your eyes again, “Not gonna finish our conversation?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I hardly believe you’d be doing much talking if I let you in right now.” And you don’t think you’re ready to travel down that path again. Not so soon when you have the events of tonight to digest, not to mention the gift sitting in your bag.

Eddie shrugs with a small smirk, “I can multitask.”

His gentle smile is beautiful. Alluring and unique, and his eyes are taking you with such an intensity that you think you might melt if you stay a minute longer. “I didn’t choose that song for the hell of it, you know?” You ask. “Stevie’s got a mean fucking range. Lord knows if I’ll be covering her again.” You grumble. And really, how high can the woman go with her rasp?

Eddie laughs, turning his head and glancing at the empty hallway before looking back to you, “Yeah, I know,” He softly replies.

You nod and he takes a deep breath, nodding towards your bag slung over your shoulder, “Listen to the tape.” He reminds you.

You tilt your head, clenching the strap of your bag before speaking, “Are you under the impression that this would make up for everything?” You ask.

And you don’t mean for it to sound harsh or hurt his feelings, but you have to let him know that if that’s what he’s hoping, then he’s wrong. This doesn’t fix everything. This doesn’t fix the confused feelings and the harsh words. It’s a start, but it’s not a finish as well.

And although Eddie’s expression falters, he shakes his head, “No. But I still want you to listen.”

You nod quietly, gazing at each other and wishing you could start on a different foot. You clear your throat, straighten your stance, and step back. “Good night, Eddie.” You softly say.

By the time you finish showering and getting ready for bed, the only thing running on your mind is the pending need to sleep. The maids had changed out the seats so they’re not doused with the ghost of Eddie’s cologne and shampoo— but you don’t go long with Eddie out of your mind because there’s a hard object that pokes into your arm when you settle into the bed.

You groan, twisting your arm around your frame to dig out the small object from below you, and when your fingers wrap around the plastic case, you immediately remember the task you’d had for tonight— listen to the tape.

The sleep that weighed down on your body is suddenly gone as you sit up to grab your walkman and headphones before settling back into the comfy sheets.

You try your best to ignore the swirling feeling of nerves and excitement in your gut as you put on your headphones and slip the tape in, but you find yourself nipping at the skin of your nails as the tape winds either way.

It’s silent for a moment, the sound of shuffling and the soft thud of what you think might be someone setting a glass down. There’s a clearing of a throat— it’s Eddie, you can tell— and your stomach twists in anticipation at the first ring of a piano chord.

The beginning chords are soft and slow, gentle enough to lull you to sleep if you sink into it, and the recording is so vivid that you can hear the dull thud of each key beneath the press of his fingers.

Your heart races when Eddie’s voice seeps into the melody. It’s a ballad, something Corroded Coffin doesn’t have much of, and you wonder why because the softness of Eddie’s voice is arguably one of the most heavenly sounds to have ever touched your ears.

I'm feeling a way, off some kinda drug

Maybe it's lust, maybe it's love

I know I said I'd straighten out a week ago

I'm fiending though, 'bout to reach my peak, you know

The city's got me falling now

It’s… fuck, it’s fucking good, and you haven’t even gotten to the chorus, but god, your heart skips a beat at the following line because it’s a direct callout to you.

I'm fading away, I'm losing my head

I know you said leave, but fuck what you said

As much as you wish you could say you hate it… you don’t.

Even though the song is about you and your twisted relationship with Eddie— which definitely aids to your feelings towards the track— it’s genuinely a good song. Which, okay, is slightly annoying, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as the song carries on.

The future's never looked so bright, it's blinding me

It's hard to see, I'm swimming through dopamine

Your body looks like heaven and

I wanna give up, I just wanna leave

I'm floating away, I'm caught in the breeze

The outro of the song comes and slows down, a softer sound than before filling your ears, and shit— you’re at the edge of your seat now because Eddie is singing so gently, and it has your mind swirling.

I can't believe this is happening

What did I do? What did she do to me?

…

Mending my brain again

Please don't give up on me

This hurts tremendously

How will this end for me?

When the song dies off, you can hear shuffling again before the track ends, and you’re left with spinning thoughts as you take your headphones off and let the silent and dark room envelope you.

You have to take a moment, yanking the string of the bedside lamp to light up the room so you can see your thoughts more clearly because— how do you feel? You’re not sure, honestly, and the thud of your heart beating in your chest only clouds your judgment even more because— isn’t this what you asked for? For Eddie to be open and honest with you, to tell you his true feelings and where he’s at when it comes to you. And is it enough?

Would it ever be enough for Eddie to give you one simple, stripped-down track to allow him the chance to mend what he’d ruined?

Your heart wants it to be enough, but realistically, it’s not. Eddie has only just begun his journey to forgiveness, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not wrong to be hesitant to let him in, neither is it bad for you to want him as badly as you do. You’re both learning, and you’re both trying to fix the damage that’s been done, and it might take time, but if you both want it— if Eddie really wants you— then the time and work it takes to fix things won’t be a bother.

You listen to the song two more times, maybe more than twice, and you let the words sink into your bones until you practically have it engraved into your mind, lulling yourself to sleep with the haunting echo of Eddie’s voice and words bouncing in the walls of your skull.

And in your dreams, you meet Eddie, and for the split second you have with him there, everything is perfect— and by the time you wake up, the ticking time bomb to make your choice is now louder than it’s ever been before.

————

part eleven

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a/n: OMG HIII, you made it to the end again !!! i would just like to specify that the song eddie has written and sang for birdie in this chappy (23 x chase atlantic) is not entirely a nod towards their relationship! reader is not specifically 23 years old nor is she struggling with any type of substance abuse, the lines that were used in this chapter are the lines that actually adhere to them imo, OKAY I THINK U GET IT I'LL SHUT UP NOW.

also, this is not the last of the songs that eddie has written abt birdie btw🫣

i hope u enjoyed and i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 AND AS ALWAYS, TY FOR READING, I LOVE U SO BIG MWAH <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting

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madstronaut · 3 months

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got totally blindsided by a whole fucking beautiful chapter on IRL a/b/o pack dynamics in a sociological nonfiction nyt bestseller book I was reading

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU, ISABEL WILKERSON FOR INCLUDING THIS CHAPTER IN CASTE (great and challenging read btw, highly recommend) i am also honestly like why is there a whole chapter dedicated to this is she secretly an A/B/O fan LMAO

a few choice quotes for all my fellow a/b/o fiends out there:

"True alphas, the behaviorist told me, are fearless protectors against outside incursions, but they rarely have to assert themselves within the pack, rarely have to act with aggression, bark orders, or use physical means of control." speak softly carry big dstick vibes

"True alphas command authority through their calm oversight of those who depend upon them. They establish their rank early in life and communicate through ancient signals their inner strength and stewardship, assert their power only when necessary. An alpha generally eats first, decides when and who will eat afterward, inspires trust through firm shepherding for the safety and well-being of the pack."

"An alpha is not necessarily the biggest or fastest but usually the innately self-assured one who can chastise a pack member with a mere look or low voice. A true alpha wields quiet power judiciously apportioned."

"You know that you are not seeing a true alpha, or, put another way, you have encountered an insecure alpha, if he or she must yell, scream, bully, or attack those beneath them into submission. That individual does not have the loyalty and trust of the pack and endangers the entire group through his or her insecurities, through his or her show of fear and lack of courage."

"We owe our misperceptions about alpha behavior to studies of large groupings of wolves placed into captivity and forced to fight for dominance or to cower into submission. In nature, wolf packs are more likely to consist of extended family systems, packs of between five and fifteen wolves, led by an alpha male and an alpha female, whom the pack trust and has reason to trust for the survival of them all." ok let me interject here to briefly proclaim *clears throat* ALPHA FEMALE SUPREMACYYYY

"The main characteristic of an alpha male wolf is a quiet confidence, quiet self-assurance...you know what's best for your pack. You lead by example. You're very comfortable with that. You have a calming effect."

"At the bottom of the hierarchy is the omega, the underdog, the lowest-ranking wolf, arising from natural personality traits in relation to others in the pack. The omega generally eats last and serves as a kind of court jester who acts as an escape valve, often picked on by other wolves. He bears the brunt of the tensions they face in the wild, where they are subject to attack from predators or from rival packs and during lean times in the hunt for prey."

"The omega acts as a kind of social glue, allowing frustration to be vented without actual acts of war...the omega is so critical to the pack structure that when a pack loses its omega, it enters into a long period of mourning, where the entire pack stops hunting and just lays around looking miserable, as if there were no longer a reason to go on. The loss of an omega can threaten social cohesion and put the entire pack at risk. Depending on the composition of the pack, an omega might not be easily replaced. The new omega would mean a demotion for one of the lower to mid-level pack members. Either way, the pack is destabilized. After all, these roles are not artificially assigned based upon what an individual wolf looks like, as with certain other species, but emerge as a consequence of internal personality traits that surface naturally in the forming of a pack."

tagging my fellow a/b/o + werewolf au fans/moots/beloveds:

@obsidiangravity @the-californicationist @ghostgorlsworld @http-paprika @deadbranch

@gemmahale @frogchiro @yeyinde @ghouljams @shotmrmiller

(i bless you all with enough inspo and hcs and fic ideas to rival loads of rut/heat-induced knotti-)

anyway, HAPPY JULY FOLKS WHAT A GREAT WAY TO START THIS MONTH

#madstrothought #a/b/o dynamics #caste by isabel wilkerson #isabel wilkerson #alphas #omegas #wolf packs

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rimeswithpurple · 1 month

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Good morning! Thank you @monbons for the tag! I'm still buzzing from @palimpsessed's remix of my COC artwork, it's truly stunning!

The kids are back in school and the house is quiet again. It was a little harrowing at first because I was behind on sewing Littlest Purple's uniform, so I was sewing the next day's outfit the night before. Towards the end of the week, I caught up and eventually found the time to draw.

My CORB concepts are submitted and I can't wait to see what everyone has come up with! After a pivot on my artwork for chapter 3 of Time Will Lie Down & Be Still, I'm plugging away and I'm much happier with the results. Here's a peak of the good old Baz Pitch Sneer™ and the beginning of chapter artwork!

The tiniest bit of a tattoo is gonna be visible on Dev, so did I design a whole ass tattoo? Of course I did! @blackberrysummerblog and I threw around some ideas and I also grabbed some inspo from the fic, Sword of Mages Tattoo. If you're curious, I used coriander, oleander and camellias.

This really made me want to get another tattoo, so maybe I'll get off my butt and finish my Vegas vampire concept

No pressure tags and hellos below!

@talentpiper11 @messofthejess @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @thewholelemon @larkral @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @fiend-for-culture @cosmicalart @mooncello @that-disabled-princess @cutestkilla @noblecorgi @iamamythologicalcreature @best--dress @emeryhall @ileadacharmedlife @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs @whatevertheweather @rbkzz @ebbpettier @cccloudsss @theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @theotherhufflepuff @onepintobean @orange-peony @hushed-chorus @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @bazzybelle @martsonmars @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @alexalexinii @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @raenestee @skeedelvee

#the overarching theme for dev's tattoo?#something slutty and botanical #it felt so good to absolve myself from continuing with the original chapter 3 concept #i tried and tried but it just didn't want to work #and that's ok #sketch sunday

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kozykhaos · 8 months

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Day 1 - Neo-Soul/Boho ethereal emerald; vegetarian | loves the outdoors | green fiend inspo playlist

#blacksimblr #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #black sims #cas #BHMCAS

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monbons · 2 months

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Stitch Sunday

Thanks for the tags @orange-peony, @roomwithanopenfire (your snips were excellent!), and @thewholelemon (I too trap my spouse into helping me resolve conundrums in fic writing).

I was really hoping to have finished my new set of dolls to present today, but given that they are the MOST detailed I have made to date, it is going much slower than normal. So instead, this is more of a progress post.

If you know me at all, you will have guessed that the new ship I've been working on is DeNiall. They own my whole heart, and I love what @mooncello is doing with them in more than a footnote. They are both FULLY realized characters with exceptional backstories, grade A pining, and hilarious personalities to boot. (Don't even get me started on the writing itself. Every single word makes me swoon.)

Such a thoughtful fic deserves a thoughtful set of dolls. Here they are in progress---all cuddled up!

New things I had to learn how to do this round include: tongues and ears that I could pierce (Dev's gauges are in progress so ears aren't sewn on yet ... but look at Niall's adorable little ears), two full heads of hair in difficult textures and more stylized cuts, shoes (!!!), and making my OWN fabric when the store did not carry the pattern I wanted (forthcoming for Niall's shirt. It appears in a future chapter so it is still a secret!). Behold more angles of Niall's hair below. I am SO proud of it because it looks EXACTLY like the inspo pic mooncello sent over when we were planning the dolls.

Both Niall and Dev are also the first set with new and improved joints, AND new and improved (and standardized!) body construction. They are based on the body proportions of the old school Kevin doll (Skipper's boyfriend for anyone who played with Barbies back in the day). Why does this matter? It means I can now use all of my old Kevin clothing as patterns to create clothing for new dolls, speeding up the design process significantly. (Although my daughter dislikes that I've been raiding her dolls and stealing outfits!)

I've really been enjoying pouring my love into these boys alongside the writer. Most of the other dolls I've created I had a plan + canon descriptions, so I only offered up one or two customization options to the writer. With this set, every little detail has come from the fic or has been planned with mooncello. Who could have guessed collaborating to bring their dreams to life would be so rewarding?

Hellos and high-fives from the doll factory: @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @hushed-chorus, @emeryhall

@shrekgogurt, @rimeswithpurple, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @talentpiper11

@brilla-brilla-estrellita, @beastmonstertitan, @best--dress, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @larkral

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @messofthejess, @iamamythologicalcreature, @aristocratic-otter

@blackberrysummerblog, @run-for-chamo-miles, @facewithoutheart, @ic3-que3n, @rbkzz

@supercutedinosaurs, @skeedelvee, @arthurkko, @fiend-for-culture, @whatevertheweather

@martsonmars, @katatsumuli, @comesitintheclover, @fatalfangirl, @stitchyqueer

@onepintobean, @palimpsessed, @moodandmist, @ileadacharmedlife, @theimpossibledemon

#always having a deniall moment in monbonsland #it's about time the rest of you joined in #more than a footnote #fanfic fanart #hand-stitched dolls #stitch sunday

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northstarstate-loverboy · 2 months

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NEVADA FANART !!

more under the cut‼️

Whats up wttt fandom, I’m sorry for dissolving for a minute but I have solidified again and now have art to feed you all! (Idk if I hate or love this. Something’s off and idk what it is)

My headcanons for Nevada include:

His human name is Olive Carmelo Vega

He is Transmasc/FTM, Bisexual, and Aromantic (idk I haven’t found any NV ships that scream “ahh they love to do coupley things!!” so NV’s AlloAro imo)

He is Latino, Colombian to be specific!!

He does drag (which he is doing in my art (yes, it’s a wig, folks))

Her drag queen name is Lustra Goldmine (ty drag queen name generator for the inspo)

He is a manic panic fiend who dyes his hair about twice a month and his hair is somehow still healthy

Gov is his adoptive father, and while Nevada has some good memories with him he overall resents him for being very absent in his childhood (Gov does try making up for the past sometimes)

California and him are half siblings who share a biological mother and they have a very typical sibling relationship (I’m sorry CaliVada shippers)

Nevada is really good friends with the Four Corners, Oregon, Washington, and Florida and he’s also mutually friends with a few on Floridas friends

And if he HAD to pick a best friend it would be Utah but he loves all his friends equally 🫶

Anywho my search on Pinterest for inspiration was easy with “pose ref slutty” as my key words

Reference + Sketch!! ^^^ also according to Pinterest the ladies name is Loren Gray (who is GORGEOUS might I add)

TY FOR READING ALL MY BS!! IM GONNA GO EVAPORATE AGAIN NOW :3

#Nevadas so slay and you can’t tell me otherwise #I showed my partner my reference and they immediately guessed NV #so I guess that means it’s fitting?#wttt #wttt nevada #wttt headcanons #wttt fanart #wttsh #wttsh nevada #wttsh fanart #wttsh headcanons #ben brainard #my headcanons #northstarstate art #northstarstate rants

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haveatthee83 · 2 months

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The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 1/4

Inspo: GOSSIP-MÅNESKIN

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~7.9k

Warnings: Cursing, canon typical violence, insecurity, descriptions of peril.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, it just makes sense. So is Ashnikko, esp Cheerleader. Listen to it in context then judge me. All the chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Buggy was furious. First, he woke up on the floor because it stormed during the night. Second, no one had their shit together during rehearsal. And third, worst of all, soME KID STOLE HIS FUCKING MAP! HE WAS GOING TO INVADE IN TWO DAYS, ACTIVELY FINISHING HIS PLANNING WHEN HE SAW THAT BENDY LITTLE SHIT MAKING OFF WITH HIS MAP! UNCALLED FOR! OUTRAGEOUS! IT’S BULLSHI-HIS. FUCKING. MAP?!?! FUCK!

Buggy snarled as he threw one of his throwing knives at the mast in front of him, “We’ve got a fucking show to do fellas! Hop to!” he sneered, aiming a dagger for the feet of the closest crew member. The crew scattered to their positions, Cabaji staying by Buggy’s side.

“What exactly is the plan, Captain?” the unicyclist asked.

“Get. My. Fucking. Map, Cabaji.” Buggy hissed, poking out another knife from seemingly nowhere, resting the tip on Cabaji’s nose. Cabaji often wondered if the captain had eaten two Devil Fruits, a secret one that let him be such a fiend with those knives, a paranormal, infinite number of them at his disposal. “Board their ship, knock them out, and find my map.”

Cabaji sighed, wheeling backwards, away from the knife’s tip, “Yes, Captain.” He said, wheeling away to bark orders at a few out of place “freaks”.

‘Somehow…this is Shanks’s fault.’ Buggy thought bitterly, slinking back toward his throne, ready for a performance of a lifetime.

You felt a little out of place. You couldn’t help but shuffle your rice around your bowl as you thought about where you were.

You had run into the one and only Monkey D. Luffy when he was on his way to steal the map to the Grand Line from Ol’ Axe Hand. You were on your own little mission, searching the sea for…let’s call it a family heirloom. You were out for blood, but forced to run out of gas as you floated along the expansive seas. Your skin burned and blistered as you stared at the horizon line of nothing but blue all around you. You had been lost at sea for days, no food or water, nothing but the torn-up gown on your back. You were losing hope of surviving. That’s when you heard it.

“HEEEEYYYY!! YOU OKAY?!” you could barely drag your head to look in the direction of the loud screaming, a small rowboat, little more than a dot in your blurry vision. You sighed out a breath of relief, flopping an arm over the edge of your own rowboat. A small sign that, yes you were alive, yes, you need help. “DON’T WORRY! WE’RE COMING!” you felt your eyelids close against your will. A small wave of peace washing over you.

“You dead?” a voice asked tentatively from beside you, what you assumed to be an oar poking your backside a little too hard, drawing a pained groan from your dry throat. “That’s a no, then.”

You peeled your eyes open with a wince, two young men? Boys? Were in front of you in their own little rowboat. You’d later come to find their names to be Luffy and Koby.

“Whatcha doing out here, lady?” Luffy asked, almost tipping his boat over by hoisting himself up on the edge to see you better.

“W-“ you sighed at your scratchy voice, “Water?” you rasped, reaching your sunburnt hand out toward the boys.

Koby flinched back, scrambling to grab a large canteen of water from his feet, thrusting it into Luffy’s hands. “You-you do it.” He whimpered, shifting further away from you in his seat. Luffy laughed a bit, unscrewing the cap, but extended his arm out to you, the open canteen’s rim meeting your greedy lips. The water flowed too fast, covering your face, but you didn’t care, reaching a hand up and taking the canteen from your face. Luffy grinned wide and sat back.

“So, why are you out here, Clown Lady?” Luffy asked, eagerly shifting in his seat.

“Clown Lady?” Koby asked.

“Yeah, that big frilly thing she’s wearing, and the paint on her face! She must be a clown!” Luffy justified, crossing his arms.

You huffed a laugh, mustering all the strength you could to sit up, “Not a clown.” You explained, the gravel in your voice quelled only slightly, “Just a big poofy dress and messed up makeup. I was chasing some Marines, got stranded.”

Koby recoiled, “Why would you be chasing Marines?”

You snarled at the thought, “They stole something of mine. I need it back.”

Luffy’s grin stretched even further, “I can help with that!” you eyed him down, looking for deception in his pure, wide eyes. “Join my crew! I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates!” he exclaimed, giggling a bit.

You blinked at the boy in front of you, taking in his scrawny frame, the little scar under his eye, his straw hat, a hat with a complete sense of Deja vu you couldn’t get rid of, and a smile wider than the Grand Line. King? Well…actually…maybe. The boy didn’t look like much, but the fire in his eyes, the pull in his chest to adventure that you could practically feel, the love and care and hope oozing from every pore. A pirate? Yeah. In the hazed light of the afternoon sun, in your dehydrated mind, your heart skipped a beat. You thought you saw Gol D. Roger in front of you. You felt his warm smile, his laughter ringing through your ears. Yeah…he could probably do it.

You set your jaw, trying to chase away the sting of tears, “Okay, Kid. I believe you.” You said, holding out your hand to shake. Koby’s eyes bulged, and Luffy all but cackled, “I’ll join you, but I have a few conditions.”

“Fine by me!” he had said, shaking your hand immediately, dragging you into their rowboat, and the rest is history. You had been pretty useless in helping get the map, but your knowledge of Marine’s bases and ships’ construction and layout helped more than you’d know, dangling from first Luffy’s back, then eventually Zoro’s.

So, there you sat, mulling over your rice. It hadn’t been long since you joined Luffy and became a “Straw-Hat”, and as much as you believed in the kid, and even though you got along with Zoro and Nami, you couldn’t help but feel unwanted, a little on the outside. Even if you had technically been the first one to join, you kinda felt like you were tacked on, like this wasn’t where you belonged.

You had three conditions in joining Luffy, 1. He and the other Straw-Hats were to help you find your heirloom, 2. You would stay with Luffy until it was found, 3. When it was found, you would be allowed to leave whenever you were ready, to make your own path, your own life. Until then, you would be the most loyal crew member the Greenhorn Captain had ever heard of. You would ask how high, you would “bark” on command, kill without hesitation. You hadn’t had to prove it, nor the chance to yet, but you could feel it coming. Something’s brewing. Something’s on the horizon, and it wasn’t a rowboat.

“Hey, Clown Lady! Whatcha up to?” Luffy asked, plopping next to you, already stealing a clump of rice from your bowl. You sighed and handed the bowl over, resting your head on the table in front of you.

“I’m thinking and I’m sad, Luffy.” You had long given up on correcting him that you were not, in fact, a clown. Luffy’s face scrunched and he paused his ravenous shoveling of the rice into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment, “Why are you sad?”

You hesitated, but relented, knowing this would only nag at you until you talked about it, and raised your head, but only half facing your rambunctious captain. “I feel like…I don’t belong here.” You finally spat out, shoving your face into your hands so you didn’t have to see the younger man’s expression. “I feel…different. I’m not…special like you guys.”

Luffy went to interject, but you slammed your hands off your face, pushing yourself to face him fully, “I don’t have a devil fruit, I’m not a great swordsman, or a great navigator. I’m some lady you found in a rowboat on the verge of death who has very little that’s spectacular or at all interesting about her other than some family heirloom that I don’t even know if I fully want to tell you about.” You exclaimed, grabbing the captain’s shoulders, “Don’t you ever just-just-” you huffed in frustration, shaking Luffy a bit, “-feel like something’s missing?!” Luffy looked at you with wide eyes, his arms pinned to his chest, a weird expression on his face. You sighed loudly, letting the poor man go and turning back to the table, suddenly infatuated with the wood grain, heat rising to your face.

Your captain called your name softly, “What’s your dream?” he asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t really have one. I have…goals I guess.”

“What are they?”

“I want to find my father’s-um my family heirloom,” you stuttered, revealing a touch more than you had before, “I want to carry on his mission, I guess. Keep it safe. After that, I don’t know. I’d like to fall in love maybe.” You rambled, all rather noncommittal in your tone.

Luffy nodded thoughtfully, setting aside the now empty bowl you had your rice in. “What do you like to do?”

You thought for a moment. God, it had been years since you thought about what you liked, what you wanted. You had to set it all aside for your father, for your family. The last time you remember having fun was when you were fifteen, when two boys that were your age came to visit your island, they taught you knife throwing, tried to show you how to sword fight, showed you the ship they lived on, but most of all, you thought of the way they showed you how to perform. They weren’t able to steal around the island, for fear of your family overpowering their crew and kicking them off before they had their fill of fun and food, so they needed money.

They had you bring them to the town square and set one of their hats on the cobbled ground and for hours the three of you did little tricks, danced, sang, told stories, or showed off some of the skills they had been teaching you for tips. The echo of your laughter and glee bouncing through the city, chorused with the boys’ joyous hoots and hollers into the sunlight. You had scrounged the tips together and used the money to have a ball that night at the summer festival, running through crowds with fried dough and masks of monsters and beasts of old, only stopping to watch the massive fireworks in the night sky, dancing under the colorful sparks for nothing but yourselves, cheers from all around.

Your eyes threatened to well up at the thought, not a day goes by that you don’t think of those boys, hoping they’re doing okay, that they got to grow up as carefree and happy as they were with you. That was the last summer you were allowed to be a kid, “I like performing.” You whispered, barely wanting to voice such an absurd thought. That everyday could be like that summer. That you could feel the thrill of all those eyes on you, all that joy directed at what you can do.

Luffy sat up and grinned, “Is that your dream? To perform? What do you do?” he asked, genuinely happy to have helped you down this train of thought. “C’mon, tell me!”

“I learned how to do a few things over the years, I’m good at acrobatics cause of all the ropes I’ve dealt with on ships, I love to dance, I-“ you laughed as you said the rest, “I learned how to fire breathe and throw daggers really well too!” you grabbed a worn, old throwing knife from your side and tossed it in your hand, Luffy’s eyes sparkled in wonder as you went on, “You weren’t the only one with a weird childhood, kid.” You teased, nudging him with your shoulder, before grabbing the blade at the end and launching it straight at the wall where it stuck with a light twang.

“Why don’t you do that?” Luffy exclaimed, gesturing to you, your face more specifically, “Just talking about it has you smiling more than I’ve ever seen you!”

You chuckled a bit, but the sad gleam returned to your eyes, “I can’t. I have to protect the Kaku Kaku no Mi.” you explained. Luffy furrowed his brow, and horror dawned your face, “Forget I said that! Luffy, this doesn’t leave this conversation.” You whispered, holding his face in your hands, eyes boring into his.

Luffy’s eyes widened in excitement and awe, “You’re looking for a Devil Fruit?!” he exclaimed, your hands over his mouth muffling the last two words from leaving his mouth.

“Yes!” you whispered, tears close to falling, “And no one can know! I trust you, so it’s okay that you know, but you must promise me you won’t say anything to anyone. Not even Zoro and Nami.” You pleaded, hands still covering the captain’s big mouth. “Please, Luffy. As my Captain, I’m begging you.”

Slowly, your captain’s eyes softened, and he nodded, gently taking your hands away from his face, and in a pure moment of sobriety, Luffy spoke, “I’ll keep your secret, Clown Lady,” he said, a small smile spreading over his lips as he added, “Only if you promise me that you’ll follow your dream. Go perform on the biggest stages you can find. If not for you, for me.” His words were punctuated by a hand being raised; pinky outstretched in a childish pact. One that you hadn’t seen or made since you last saw one of those boys that summer, vowing to see each other again.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you choked out, “I can’t just-!”

“Yes, you can.” He chortled, “I just told you that you could. You have permission.”

You froze, the tears coming harder, but you felt a weight falling off of your shoulders as you wrapped a shaky pinky around his. You yanked Luffy by the join and pulled him into a deep hug, his arms wrapping around you twice with his rubber abilities. “You’re such a good kid. Roger would be happy to have you as his successor.” You whispered into his hair, laying a quick kiss onto the crown of his head.

Luffy pulled back a bit, eyes shining, “You knew him?!”

You giggled, swiping a stray curl out of his face, “Not for long-“

You were cut off with a BANG and a LURCH. You held Luffy to your torso as you were both flung to the floor, shielding him from potential impact.

“We’re under attack!” you exclaimed, already rushing to your feet, the captain not far behind. You both ran out to the deck, Zoro and Nami already there, weapons drawn.

“Who the fuck is that?!” Zoro roared, looking in all directions through the grey smoke.

You felt woozy all of a sudden, red overtaking the grey, “Luffy! The map!” you yelled, pushing him over toward Nami, coughing and trying to balance against the railing of the ship, “INCOMING!” you yelled, dropping to the floor, clinging to the rails. Another BANG and a LURCH cut through, the red smoke billowing farther. You peered through a gap in the sea of crimson and saw a curious jolly roger. “Is that a clown?” you mutter. The last thing you see before you pass out is Luffy swallowing the map, Nami and Zoro already passed out. With your last moments, you reached out to the barely conscious Luffy.

“Wake up!” came a hiss from next to you, you tried to rouse, your eyes barely blearing open. A harsh kick to your foot made you jolt to attention. Your eyes met Zoro’s as you tried to blink the drugs out of your system, finding all four of you in a large wooden crate. The other three were already standing, looming above you.

“What the fuck?” You mutter, trying to stretch the soreness out of your neck.

“Where’s the map?” Nami whispered.

Luffy waved her off, “Don’t worry about it! It’s somewhere safe.” He assured cryptically. You two shared a look, and you gave him a small nod, you weren’t saying shit.

“Marines must’ve found us,” Zoro huffed.

You and Luffy shook your heads, “Pirates.” You droned.

“Yeah, I saw a big, weird Jolly Roger.” Luffy explained.

You nodded, “Uh-huh. Kinda looked like a-“

“-clown.” You both finished. After a moment, you blanched. You knew who a clown in the East Blue was. “Oh shit.” You whisper, standing up and trying to find a way out of the crate, futile as it was.

“What’s your problem?” Nami asked.

You looked her dead in the eye, “We might’ve pissed off the wrong guy already.” You mutter, cryptically.

With that, the crate’s walls fell to the ground, all of you squinting under the harsh spotlight. Circus music played all around you as performers swung above you, cycled past, fire breathers a little too close for comfort, all the while a chorus of flat applause echoed over the music. When your eyes adjusted it took you a second to notice the audience and their distress, taken by the barrage of talents all around you. When you do, you lock eyes with a woman who’s jaw trembled and eyes widened, tears threatening to fall as she mouthed a small, “Help.”

Nami lowered Luffy’s clapping hands next to you, “If we die, Luffy,” you locked eyes with the young captain, “I’ll kill you.” You hissed, pushing the younger man behind you. You, Nami, and Zoro forming a bit of a triangle around him.

You whipped your head toward a backstage entrance, a resounding voice demanding attention, “No, no, no, NO!” the pirate yelled, rushing into view, “Stop clapping! Stop clapping!” he insisted, marching into the ring, “No! This is all wrong!”

You squinted trying to get a proper look at the source of the voice, but he was in the dark, not quite lit up enough to see his face. “The spotlight was late.” He exclaimed, “You completely missed my entrance!”

‘Ah, that’s why I couldn’t see him.’ You thought with a smirk.

The man gestured wildly, getting the spot tech’s attention, physically guiding them to find him. The comedic timing and absurdity caught you off guard, and you found yourself suppressing a laugh, just a soft snort coming out. Zoro glared at you over his shoulder, this was not the time to think the enemy was funny.

“-And where was the dancing lion?!” you got a good look at him now; he was a clown. A handsome clown. The first thing that struck you was the way his eyes caught the light. They shone in a way that struck you, your heart skipping a beat, a sense of nostalgia washing over you. His makeup was perhaps a little worse for wear, but he looked pretty stressed. Pissed might be a more accurate word, really. Nonetheless from where you stood, he was a very attractive man, a squared off jaw, stubble peaking through along it. His face was screwed up a bit in annoyance, but you couldn’t help but think he was pretty. He had blue hair and a colorful getup, topped off by an orange captain’s hat, his clown-y jolly roger positioned proudly at the center. There was no question about it, this was one of the most prolific captains in the East Blue, Buggy D. Clown. You all were fucked.

“Hey!” You whipped around to grab Luffy by the arm, try to stop him, but he persisted, “I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!”

“Don’t say something stupid, Luffy!” You whispered, pinching his bicep.

He barely flinched, brushing you off, “You’re the clown guy!” Luffy turned to you briefly, “Hehe! How bout that, Clown Lady!” He chimed.

Buggy’s face screwed up in confusion, ‘She’s not a fucking clown.’ He thought. ‘If she is, she’s a shitty one. Out of costume and everything.’

“Your name’s uh-uh” Luffy trailed off already moving on.

“Buggy!” you whispered.

“Binky!”

“No!”

Buggy was unimpressed, “Buggy.” He corrected. “Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool? Buggy, The Genius Jester?” Buggy offered, looking for any sign of recognition on the young captain’s face. He found none, just unabashed…well. Luffy.

“Wow!” Luffy exclaimed, he looked at your little crew with a grin, genuinely excited to meet a famous pirate. “I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are!”

Buggy’s eye twitched, and you took a step closer to Luffy, widening your stance, “What did you just say?”

“Just that everyone knows who you are!” Luffy said innocently. He didn’t know. He really didn’t. You didn’t even know about what was going on, and you actually knew who Buggy was.

Buggy snarled, pushing past you and the other crewmates, grabbing Luffy by the face, “NOSE?!” You stumbled but stood close, eyeing the clown pirate’s hand on your captain’s face. Your fingers twitched to deck the guy, but you had to be patient. You had to wait. Your priority was keeping Luffy safe, not pitching a fight with other pirate captains.

You saw the other circus folk step forward, a menacing threat hanging over all of you. “Are you making fun of my nose?” Buggy seethed.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Luffy started, struggling to speak through Buggy’s grip. “But now that you mention it…” Luffy’s hand rose from his side as he spoke, “Is that thing for real?”

You clenched your jaw as Buggy slapped Luffy’s hand away. “Don’t be rude, Luffy!” you hissed.

Buggy regarded you for a second, taken aback, but his attention was quickly grabbed by Luffy again as he tried to reach back toward his nose. Buggy slapped Luffy’s hand away again, “What’s real is, I’ve been scheming for MONTHS!” he exclaimed, “to steal that map from that Old Axe-Hand Moron.” Buggy emphasized the insult, swinging into Nami’s face, who regarded him coldly as he indicated for a laugh. You frowned at the mention of the Marine, displeased by the few interactions you’d had with him. Buggy shrugged at Nami’s nonresponse and backed away, “-only to find out I had been upstaged by four little nobodies! Who stole it from right under my nos-“ he cut himself off, that clearly being a sensitive subject for him. “-NO! IT’S IN MY HEAD NOW!” he yelled, groaning in frustration before marching away from your crew.

You took a deep breath as you watched him go, approaching Luffy again, resting a hand on his shoulder, trying to ground him to reality for one damned second. “Hey!” Luffy shouted, and you clamped your hold on his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. You hissed, trying to get him to shut up, but Luffy persisted as if you weren’t even there. “I’m not a nobody!” he proclaimed, a resolute tone in his voice. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I will be King of the Pirates!” you tensed even further, letting go of your vice grip and biting back a lecture on time and place.

Buggy let out a weak, piteous laugh at your captain’s statement, “Oh! Now that’s funny!” he pointed at the man who was supposed to oversee the lion, who held up a LAUGH sign. The crowd followed directions hollowly, and you found yourself locking eyes with that woman again, the tears falling slowly down her cheeks. You sent her a determined nod. If you could do nothing else today, you’d protect Luffy, and get her out of here. The laughter rang for a moment, until the unamused clown gestured to stop, the tent falling to silence on a dime. “My bounty poster graces every marquee of every Marine outpost for miles.” Buggy carried on, talking up himself and his crew, but at that moment, you noticed something. Buggy had throwing knives in his coat. If you could just get your hands on one…a plan began to form in your mind on how to get one as the two pirate captains argued about who would be king.

You scanned the room when your plan was as fully formed as it would be, looking for all exits and possibilities you could. Just when you felt solid, Zoro opened his big mouth.

You could see Buggy’s rage build at the swordsman’s arrogance, a vein on his forehead popping out a bit, the tendons in his neck tight. “Now,” he muttered. “Maybe we should skip right to the finale.” Buggy raised his hand, each finger interlocking with a knife, one shoved between each knuckle. Your focus lasered in on them, barely registering the other pirates as a threat as they readied themselves for a fight.

THEN NAMI STEPPED UP. FUCKING HELL. Your brow twitched as you resisted the urge to shove her back, “Wait! Wait. What if I have something to offer you?”

You snarled, “Oh hell no.” you knew exactly what she was gonna do. And it wouldn’t work.

“Something more valuable than the map.” Luffy eyed Nami, confused as to what she could be talking about, stepping closer to her. Nami goes on to set up offering one of you as a freak, stepping around Luffy.

“Go on.” Buggy insisted, curiosity something he couldn’t seem to resist.

Nami smoothed her resolve, turning and snatching Luffy’s hat, tossing it high above you and tried to bolt. Luffy used his rubber abilities to try and grab the hat.

“Fat chance!” you yelled, sprinting after her. You made it out of the tent when she stumbled in her path, shocked by the destruction around her. You, did no such thing, tackling her around the middle. You two rolled in the dust for a moment, when you landed you had her pinned under you, straddling her, holding her arms above her head, “We die, you die. You signed up for this shit.” You hissed, leaning into her face, “Try something like that again and I might have to kill you. Only thing that could save you is that rubber boy you just tried to sell out.” Nami’s eyes were wide under you as you were quickly surrounded by circus performers, picking you two up and dragging you back to the tent.

Buggy eyed you with renewed wonder. ‘You chased down your crewmate who was…getting away? All because of this…rubber dude?’

Nami’s horrified expression hadn’t left her face, “What did you do?! What did you do to their town?! You destroyed everything!” she cried to the clown. Buggy just rolled his eyes and twirled a throwing knife in his hand. You had become used to such destruction over the years, and used that to your advantage, compartmentalizing those feelings for later and focusing on getting one of those damned knives.

“Not everything.” Buggy chided, cutting slices into an apple he had retrieved in light of Nami’s escape attempt. “I let em keep their hands.” He joked, pointing to the guy with the sign again, provoking applause from the crowd.

“Okay,” Buggy started, “Here ends the theatrics.” He said walking over to your group again, but more specifically over to you, the lights shifting with his path. His eyes landed on you, looking you up and down, trying to take you in. You met his gaze without issue, even quirking a small smirk at the man. Buggy narrowed his eyes at you before turning to your captain, “I know one of you has my map, and I’m gonna get it back.” He said, Buggy’s eyes flicking to you briefly. “What was it you said, rubber boy? That it was in a safe place?” All of your eyes shot wide. Amendment to the plan. You were going to be grabbed. You have the map now. At least they’ll think you do. You have to help Luffy. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere.”

You shared a look with Luffy ‘Go with it.’ You tried to telepathically communicate with the boy, “So please make our guests uncomfortable in the Greenroom!” He said, motioning for the circus pirates to descend onto you, trying to drag you into the back. You immediately held your arms over your torso, pretending to have the map under your shirt, he doesn’t know it’s in a damned cannister, writhing to keep your hands in place. ‘Please think I’m stupid enough to do that.’ You prayed, meeting Buggy’s eyes for a moment.

His eyes narrowed, “Leave her.” Buggy called, pointing right at you. You struggled less, darting your eyes around, ‘panicked’ you and Luffy were left in the circus tent while Nami and Zoro were dragged into the dark of the backstage. You two were ushered forward, inches away from Buggy. “I am going to have a little chat. With my stretchy new pal, here.” He said, eyes flicking to you, “But first, I’m, gonna need to talk to this pretty little Doll Face right here.” His gaze bore into you as he flicked his head to the side, the crew grabbing Luffy and dragging him one way, Buggy guiding you in another. “Let’s chat, babe.” He rasps into your ear.

‘Please let this work.’

“Come ON, Doll Face!” Buggy whined, the two of you in one of the off shoot store rooms. He had stuck you both into a large cage, not lion big, but big enough. “Work with me here! I mean, what are you even doing with a bunch of snot nosed little babies, huh?” he asked, plopping to the ground in front of you. You sat across from him, your arms crossed over the area you were pretending to keep the map.

You gave the clown another grin, “Why? Jealous?”

Buggy’s brows knit in confusion, “Huh? Why’d I be jealous?” genuine perplexed questioning all over his face as he began fiddling with one of those throwing knives you were so ready to get your hands on.

“Because he’ll do it.” You said frankly, checking your nails, frowning at a break.

“Do what?” Buggy challenged, holding the knife level with you.

You simply hummed into your smile, making it grow, “He’s gonna find the One Piece and become King.” You said, speaking like you were talking about the weather. “I see it in him every day.” You locked eyes with Buggy’s annoyed gaze. “I swear sometimes he might be the reincarnation of Roger himself.” You barreled forward, riling Buggy up, “I haven’t heard of a pirate like him since Joy Boy!”

Buggy was almost growling, “Don’t you talk to me about Gol D. Roger.” He hissed, fingers twitching around the knife’s hilt. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

You shrugged; arms still wrapped firmly around yourself. “How would you know?” you lilted, leaning forwards into the clown’s space. “You don’t know anything about me, Buggy.” You said, emphasizing his name. “You don’t even know who I am.” You giggle, cocking your head to the side, looking the seething clown up and down.

Buggy ran his tongue along his teeth, sucking in a breath, “What’s your name then, Doll?”

You bit your lip to keep down another laugh, “I don’t know if I want to tell you, I kinda like it when you call me Doll.” Buggy was physically taken aback for a moment, his head jerking back a bit, not expecting any flirting. Your eyes softened a bit, extending out your leg to bump your foot with his. “Come on, pretty boy, don’t be so serious.” You laugh at his bewildered expression for a moment before announcing your name with a grin.

His eyes widened further, making you laugh harder, “You’re cute when you’re not trying to kill my friends.” You joked, nudging the clown’s foot again, trying to illicit a laugh or any reaction now other than the frozen, almost afraid man in front of you.

Buggy swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting off the heat rising to his face by clearing his throat, “What about when I am?” he joked, trying to get the higher ground back.

Your smile never left you as you rose to your knees, ‘It’s been long enough for Zoro and Nami to have figured something out to get us all out of here. I want to use the little time I have left to have a little fun.’ You thought to yourself, crawling over to Buggy, grabbing the bars to the cage next to his head, settling between his legs.

“Well, I thought you were kinda hot, but I’m sure you’d be even better trying to kill someone I don’t like.” You lilted, face only inches from Buggy’s.

Buggy’s eyes were blown wide again, his long lashes tempting you a bit. After a moment of sharing the same space, you raised your hand up, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand, your knuckles brushing those feather soft eyelashes. You watched as his pupils overtook his beautiful blue green irises, raising your hand further to tuck a stray strand of hair back into Buggy’s bandana. You smiled again and his whole face softened.

Buggy brought his own hand up and grabbed yours from his face, whispering “You don’t have the map, do you?” you looked to the side to avoid his eyes, feeling a bit bad for the deception, and shook your head. His fingers caught your chin, and he made you look at him, a pained look on his face. “Was all of it lies? Just sweet little things to distract me?” he asked through grit teeth, and you couldn’t help but notice a slight tremor to his grip.

Your eyes shot wide, immediately holding Buggy’s face in your palms, heart straining a bit when he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You could never be so cruel! “Hold on, now Bugs! This wasn’t even my plan, honestly,” you started, moving your head into his field of view every time he tried to dart those pretty eyes away from you, “I was just gonna stall, piss you off a bit.” You chuckled, “Anything I said in here,” you said with a soft smile, “I meant, pretty boy.” His eyes searched yours for deceit, confusion flashing over his face when he found none. “I don’t have to lie to get what I want.” Buggy felt an impossible pull closer to you, and so did you to him. Just as you were close enough to brush your nose against his-

“HAHAHA!” Luffy’s cackling rang out through the whole area. You flinched and tried to find where the sound came from, and Buggy blinked a few times, taking in your beautiful features as you searched for your captain, only realizing you were real when he felt the pressure of your fingers still on his face.

He shook himself out of it, “Duty calls, Starshine!” Buggy chuckled, grabbing you around the waist, placing you to the side. You worried your lip between your teeth as you listened to the loud sounds coming from Luffy. Buggy hummed and stood up, taking a key from his hat and letting his hand detach while you weren’t looking, letting it unlock the cage door before slipping through and closing it back up, locking it quickly.

Your eyes snapped to Buggy, standing in the cage, watching him as he walked away from you, “Buggy!” you called. The clown captain stilled, only turning his head to listen to you, “Promise me something!” you could barely see his brows furrow, his ear twitch, “Don’t kill him. Just-he’s a great kid and he deserves a shot. You don’t have to share; you can fight to find the One Piece all you want. Just-just don’t kill him.” You were even shocked yourself at the desperation in your tone. Buggy’s shoulders tensed before he straightened out, with a deep breath. You didn’t know for sure if he agreed of not, but something deep in your heart told you Luffy would be okay.

You were spinning the throwing knife on your finger, threading it through your fingers over and over as you sat and waited. You had already tried picking the lock to little success, and there weren’t enough weak points to exploit in the cage, so you sat, and you fiddled with the blade, waiting for one of your crewmates.

“Clown Lady!” you heard Zoro’s gruff call travel low through the room. You licked your lips and whistled a practiced bird call, hearing two sets of footsteps move direction and come find you in your sturdy, iron bar cage.

You leaned against the bars, waving at your crewmates, a wry smile on your lips, “I don’t know if this is the right place for that nickname.” You joked.

“Damn, what’d you do to get locked up like this?” Nami huffed, already trying to work the lock.

You shrugged, “I think he likes me,” you chuckled, to the dismay and slight disgust of the two pirates, “Maybe he wanted to keep me!”

Zoro grimaced, “You have a weird sense of humor, woman.”

You rolled your eyes, a glint in the sand catching your eye, a glint in the sand catching your eye. You beamed, pointing at the swordsman’s feet with a wide smile, “I told you he liked me! Look,” both crewmates’ eyes followed your finger to the dusty ground, “He left me a key!”

Zoro and Nami took a moment, blinking to process this information, looking at each other to confirm this was real, nodded, and then Nami grabbed the key.

“Let’s go, Luffy was running his mouth, I could hear him,” you said, rushing through the tent, you and Nami running ahead while Zoro made quick work of any circus folk you ran into.

You turned the final corner and sprinted through the hallway, coming into one of the ring entrances. Luffy was in an escapologist’s water tank full of seawater, Buggy arguing with him through the glass.

Your eyes met Luffy’s as he was fully submerged in the water tank, and you gave him a wide smile, Nami running up behind you. Luffy, ever the little shit, points behind Buggy at you two. Just as Buggy turns, Nami launches the staff she’d been holding straight at the glass with enough power to crack it.

Buggy dodges it, looking up at you two. Just when his eyes met yours, the glass broke out, all the water and Luffy himself spilling out onto the ground. And in that moment, the world paused.

He was in peril, sure, but Buggy couldn’t help but marvel at your wide smile, the grin crinkling the corners of your eyes. You tossed something in your hand, catching it again. One of Buggy’s throwing knives. Buggy felt a smirk pull at his lips, no one manages to steal his knives from him. Damn you’re impressive.

When the world resumed, he and Luffy were fighting off the effects of the sea water, and Buggy heard an absolutely awful gagging sound, eyes shifting to the rubber captain. ‘HE ATE THE FUCKING MAP?!’ Buggy almost cackled at the insanity, but one thing overpowered it all. He needed “My map-” “My hat-“ he and Luffy began to crawl, dragging themselves toward their respective treasures. When they had reached them, Buggy laughed, God could he fail upwards.

That’s when you three made your advance, you, Zoro, and Nami circling Buggy like sharks, “You want a piece of me?” Buggy called, “Let’s see what you got!”

Zoro tried to chop off Buggy’s head, but it just popped off then back on again, causing all of your faces to scowl in confusion. “Chop Chop Fruit.” You called.

“Very good, Doll Face!” Buggy exclaimed, “Surprise, Shithead!” Buggy began to separate into smaller and smaller pieces, flying around you three.

“Cutting him won’t work.” You stated, twirling the knife in your hand, thinking. Thinking of nothing good, of course, a wicked grin appearing on your face.

The flying limbs and body parts flew all around you, pushing Zoro and Nami out of the ring. You tried your best to dodge them, but you got hit back by a few before finding Buggy’s rhythm, bobbing and weaving with him. Unfortunately, he noticed, and sent a hand out to drag you to the ground, away from the others. You landed hard against a supply of chests and crates. Perfect.

Luffy rose to the challenge, invoking Buggy’s Chop Chop Cannon, and dodging expertly, pinning the clown’s torso to the ground before one of his fists came flying in from the side, toppling Luffy off of him. Luffy popped right up, only for Buggy to send a fist full of knives at his head, catching Luffy’s hat when he ducked.

‘Oh, shit.’ You thought. ‘Buggy might be fucked. What a shame. I kinda wanted to see him again.’

Luffy’s eyes were wide, panic and rage flickering through them as he tried to pick it up, only to be tripped and pinned by Buggy. Your captain met your eye, which you immediately swung open one of the chests, and he got the hint, that brilliant boy. “Nami! The crates!” he choked out.

Nami’s head whipped to where you were, ready to go, knife in hand. Luffy stood tall, ripping Buggy’s hand off of his throat and whipping it towards Nami, who batted it right at you, who slammed it into a crate, closing it tightly before prepping the next one. And so that’s how it went, the other Straw-hats sending you pitches and hits, and you making sure they found their homes in individual crates. One particularly sneaky leg tried to go back to Buggy, but you whipped your throwing knife right at it, barely nicking him, but pinning it to the ground by the pants. You grabbed it and shoved it into a chest, sitting on it with a satisfied grin. All that was left was his head, feet, and hands.

“What did you do?!” Buggy roared, outraged.

Luffy chuckled, dusting off his poor hat, “Cut you down to size!” he laughed, infuriating the clown.

Buggy sputtered and yelled, “-you’re just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!”

You lowered your gaze to Buggy’s, a narrow glare. “I know who I am.” Luffy started, placing his hat back on his head. You glowed with pride as he spoke, “I am Monkey D. Luffy. And I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates!” he announced, readying himself for the final blow.

You met Buggy’s eye one more time as Luffy wound up, and you sent him a quick wink and a smile.

“GUM GUM! BAZOOKA!” and with that, Luffy slingshot the clown’s remaining pieces out of the tent.

‘Wonder when I’ll see him again.’ You wondered. ‘Hope it’s soon.’

You kept your eyes on the hole in the tent as Luffy picked up the map, handing it off to Nami. You stiffened for a moment, apprehensive with her after the stunt she pulled.

“You’re trusting me with this?” Nami asked, taking the map into her hands.

“You’re the navigator.” Luffy insisted.

They shared a little moment, holding each other’s eye, a passage of understanding between them.

Zoro cut in, puffing out a quiet, “Let’s get out of this clown show.”

You smirked, “Should I take offence, Zoro?” you teased.

Zoro rolled his eyes, “Quiet, woman.” He barked, all of you heading towards an exit.

“Wait!” Luffy exclaims, and your eyes landed again on the face of the woman in the crowd. “We have one more thing to do.” You and the woman exchanged smiles.

“Hey, Luffy.” You said, sitting next to your captain on the deck of your small “ship”. The young captain was wearing the straw hat again, repaired by Nami.

He smiled up at you, watching the waves. It was just you two out there, the other two working inside. “Should I stop calling you Clown Lady?” Luffy asked, peering up at you, squinting in the evening sun.

You smiled, teeth and all, stroking the young boy’s nape, “You don’t have to.” You start, poking his cheek with your free hand, “I don’t mind being Clown Lady. Especially not for you, Captain.”

Luffy sat up and his eyes got that sparkle, he had an idea. “Maybe that’s what you could do! Be a clown!” he volunteered, gesturing wildly with his words, your shoulders shaking in laughter. “Clowns do all kinds of stuff! You could do all the stuff you wanna do!”

“I could also…just do them and not be a clown.” You chide, pinching his side, “Besides, you don’t have to worry about me and my silly dreams. Okay, Luffy? Focus on yours. You might actually achieve yours.” You say, taking the boy into a side hug, his head under your cheek.

You could feel him scowl under you, “You’ll achieve your dream,” Luffy said, using your government name to prove his point.

You barked out a laugh, “That might’ve been the first time you said my name!” Luffy shrugged and chuckled, wrapping an arm around you too, a comfortable silence filling the deck, the only sound was the sounds of the sea, calm and cool. You took a moment to look at Luffy, specifically that hat. That hat niggled at the back of your skull like a song you couldn’t remember the name of, why was it so familiar? “Say, Luffy.” He hummed in acknowledgment, “Where’d you get this hat from?”

Luffy smiled wide and began telling tale of the Red-Haired Shanks, a man he looked up to in every way, who took care of him. As he spoke you couldn’t help the feeling of familiarity grow stronger. “Luffy.” You stopped him suddenly, craning your neck to look the boy in the eyes. “Did this Shanks guy ever tell you about a girl he met when he was young?”

Luffy shrugged noncommittally, “He talked about a lot of girls.”

You pursed your lips trying to place your words, “What about a girl who beat him in a fist fight when they first met?” you asked with a chuckle.

Luffy sat up suddenly, straight as a board. “Was that you?” he asked, wide eyed.

You shrugged, “I think so. Remember those boys I told you about?” Luffy nodded eagerly, “I’m starting to think one of them was your Red-Haired Shanks.”

Buggy froze where he was being held by Arlong’s pirates, the itchy bag rubbing against his sensitive nose.

‘Remember those boys I told you about?’

‘I swear sometimes he might be the reincarnation of Roger himself.’

‘What about a girl who beat him in a fist fight when they first met?’

The knife.

It all made sense. It was you. The girl. Right before it all went to shit, when Roger was still around. The first girl he had a crush on, the girl he promised to see again. It’s you.

“Well, I didn’t know their names!” you exclaimed to an incredulous Luffy. “They called me Gale. Like Nightingale, one was Cardinal, and the other was Peacock! We thought we wouldn’t miss each other as much after they left if we didn’t know names. Didn’t work, but it’s what we thought.”

“Why didn’t you go with them if you liked them so much?”

You sighed, taking a pause before speaking. Buggy straightened up a bit. “I wanted to. I always liked being a pirate and everything. I just…I had-still have responsibilities. I have my duties; I must serve my family.” Lame excuse, if you ask Buggy, but what can you do?

‘I…think one of them was your Red-Haired Shanks.’

And of course, you remembered Shanks, not him.

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