#Adventures of Bandana Man

[im-no-jedi]

small update on ken!bae, I made him some arm wraps and a belt, complete with thigh strap 😋

I still need to make him a scarf and a knife holster (which will be going on the belt, not his arm), and then his fit will finally be complete \o/

not sure if I even wanna attempt making armor pieces at this point, I’m too enamored with the modern casual look hehe 😁

bonus obligatory OTP pic because I can:

our hands are so close to touching OMG 👀😩

[littlejuicebox]

Mermaid whiskey.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 2 weeks after BG3 final battle, Elfsong Tavern / Astarion has been ignoring you and spending too much time reading for your tastes, you aim to distract him. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers/allusions to events / Overstimulation, Teasing, Bondage, Blindfolding etc Word Count: 4.3K Notes: Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off x Whiskey Girl

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Two weeks after the final battle, Astarion is lounging by the crackling fireplace on the upper level of the Elfsong Tavern, a large goblet of red wine in one hand and a book in the other.

Everyone else spent time after the battle exploring the city or downstairs drinking and celebrating their victory as they all prepared to move onto new adventures. But Astarion had chosen nearly every opportunity over the past two weeks to hang back and enjoy some much-deserved alone time. Now that the constant worries about Cazador and the overall impending doom of Baldur’s Gate were all behind him, the rogue threw himself into finding bits of individual enjoyment whenever and wherever he could. He'd fixated himself on hobbies and leisure, and reading had seemed an obvious first choice. He'd easily idle hours away, sometimes reading an entire book cover to cover in one sitting.

Often, you would sit with the elf as he read, snuggled in a blanket or cuddled up against your love, but eventually you always got the urge to get up and do something else. You'd tried on more than one occasion to interest the rogue in another activity, but Astarion remained glued to the couch for those two weeks, barely stepping away to hunt, bathe, or trance. You'd noted, with a bit of concern, that he hadn't even asked to feed on you in more than a tenday.

Tonight, you’d tried more than once to pull him down to the tavern, but the elf quickly refused, barely lifting his eyes from the pages in front of him. Astarion seemed particularly obsessed with this book; you were almost convinced he’d already finished it and had started a second reading.

Several hours passed while you socialized down at the bar and Astarion's perfect nose stayed wedged in a book before a very tipsy Karlach decided to climb the stairs and speak to the vampire. “Oi! C’mon, Astarion! Close that dusty tome and join the fun. We’ll all only be together for a few more days. Me, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Tav are taking shots!”

The vampire’s ears perk up and he furrows his brow at the woman, snapping his book shut in the process. “Shots? Of what, exactly?”

“Mermaid Whiskey!”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no! Karlach! Mermaid Whiskey practically makes Tav’s clothes fall off!”

Astarion is on his feet now, the book abandoned as he rushes past the Tiefling and down the flight of stairs into the tavern. He quickly spots the silky blue bandana you use to tie your hair up at camp strewn upon a forgotten bar stool. Knowing it’s possibly your most prized article of clothing, the elf tucks it into his back pocket. Scarlet eyes perform a hurried scan of the room and the vampire bristles when you’re nowhere to be found.

The others are still at the bar, where Lae’zel just challenged a bartender to an arm-wrestling competition. The women warriors are cheering Lae’zel on as she’s locked in a stalemate with the man.

“Shadowheart, have you seen Tav?”

Shadowheart barely acknowledges the vampire, too engrossed in the show. “What do you mean? She’s right—“ Her gaze flicks to the abandoned stool as Lae’zel successfully slams the worker’s hand onto the sticky bar, causing the campmates and some other patrons to erupt into cheers. “She was right there a moment ago.”

Astarion runs a stressed hand through his curled hair, inspecting the room for any sign of you. Soon enough, he spots a familiar pair of shoes and hurries to them, eyes already searching for the next clue. A discarded earring floating in a glass of half-drunk whiskey is sat on the bottom step of the stairs. That hadn’t been there when he descended down them, had it?

The vampire’s gaze trails up the stairwell and his suspicions are confirmed. Your navy-blue dress is draped across the back of an armchair he can barely see from his low vantage point.

‘She must’ve snuck around when I was talking to Shadowheart.’

The rogue dashes up the stairs to find you reclined on a chaise lounge, body flushed from the whiskey coursing through your veins. You are strewn suggestively across the chaise, clothed in only your laced undergarments and thigh high stockings. The alluring vision caused Astarion's heart to leap into his throat.

“Darling, what on earth do you think you’re you doing? You’re barely clothed in the middle of the tavern. This isn’t the wilds anymore.”

You’re lying on your side when Astarion finds you, and you pout in his direction as he scolds you, waving a dismissive hand. You roll onto your stomach, bending your knees and crossing your legs. You’re pleased to see the vampire's gaze drag down your body, pausing at the curve of your bottom, before flitting back to your face. Astarion licks his lips as he looks at you, the first sign that your little plan is working. You’ve finally gotten his attention after trying to steal him away from that damned book he was so enamored with all night.

“I know my love, but I’m just so unbelievably hot right now. You wouldn’t believe how hot I feel.”

Astarion quickly crosses the few feet between you two, placing a cool, concerned hand on your flushed cheek. “How many shots did you take?”

“Oh, just two. Maybe three? I kept losing the stupid ‘never have I ever game’ because everyone made all their questions about vampires.” You pout at your lover again before turning your head to press your lips against his thumb, lingering there intentionally, your wide eyes still focused on the rogue.

Astarion was no fool. With your mouth holding his thumb in that suggestive manner, he soon realized what you were doing. You adored the vampire with your entire heart, but on your drunken nights, you knew how to be a perfectly tempting, needy little brat. “And why, my sweet, did you keep playing the game if it was so clearly rigged against you?”

You groan, moving to a sitting position, while your hands toy with the laces of your bodice. “Because…” You sharply tug at the flouncy strings and Astarion’s hand catches yours in a tight grip, moments before you’re about to expose your breasts in the center of the lounge. “You’ve barely paid attention to me the past two weeks… and I was lonely and bored and wanted to have fun.”

“Darling, I know what you’re doing... I thought we agreed that tonight you’d go to the bar, and I would stay up here.” Astarion murmurs, nimble fingers toying with the strings of your bodice. He tries to resist the temptation to look down at your cleavage and fails; you see his eyes roll up in annoyance at himself and his inability to fight off his baser instincts in your presence. Inside you’re practically giddy that you’re winning the charade, but you keep the pout plastered to your face.

“We didn’t agree to anything, my Star. You didn't give me a choice.” You huff, pointedly brushing your hair away from your neck to reveal the little pinprick scars made by your lover. The rogue's eyes trail to the marks and he licks his lips again, suddenly quite aware of how long it’s been since he’s sunk his fangs into your flesh.

Gods you were frustrating. Astarion both loathed and loved that you could play him like a lyre; you knew him so well that you understood exactly what would make him tick. Every. Single. Time.

The vampire shakes his head, trying to rattle the fantasies out of his brain and not allow you the upper hand. You were being ridiculous; if you’d wanted attention, you should’ve just asked instead of acting out. Trying to turn the conversation, Astarion asks, “What is it you even like about whiskey? It’s vile.”

You sigh and roll your eyes before sliding off the chaise and sauntering away from the elf. For a moment you think he’s going to let you leave, but then he’s trailing after you like a lost puppy and you know you've got him hooked.

“Excuse me? You’re just going to walk away? Conversation over?”

You shrug and sigh again, stopping just in front of the door to your bedchamber. You turn to face the rogue, leaning back against the door and crossing your arms. Astarion’s eyes are narrowed as he stares at you with some level of frustration and incredulity at your antics.

“If you must know, I suppose I like a bit of edge… and a bit of pain with my pleasure.” Your voice is coy, eyebrow raised, and you're fully leaning into the innuendo of your statement. “And you like that I like it... don’t you?”

Astarion chuckles at this, a smirk ghosting his lips. “You are a wicked little thing, aren’t you? Using my own games and my own tactics against me now?”

You’re wearing a mischievous grin as the rouge saunters forward, closing the distance between your bodies. He firmly grasps your chin in his hand, scarlet eyes studying your face. Just as his lips brush against yours, and you're thinking you've won this little game, you murmur, “I guess the apprentice has become the master.”

Astarion pauses and draws back for a moment, the darkening of his gaze and his raised eyebrow causing you to shudder where you stand as he grips a bit tighter on your chin. “Oh darling. You’re cute. But now I think I have to teach you a lesson and remind you who the master truly is here.”

And then his lips are on yours, fangs clashing roughly into teeth. He feels for the knob behind you and turns it, forcing you both into the room before unceremoniously slamming the door closed. Your mouths are melded together as the vampire effortlessly guides you to the bed and shoves you into the mattress. Quick, pale hands tug at the strings of your bodice and your breasts are released from their confines, spilling out in front of the vampire’s eager gaze as he drags the undergarment off your arms and throws it aside.

Then Astarion grabs something from his back pocket — your blue bandana — and dangles it in front of you with a mock-condescending pout on his lips. All you can think about in that moment is how you want to take that pout into your own lips and bite.

“Darling, you left this downstairs and I had to retrieve it. I think I may need to teach you to take care of your belongings. You only have two of these, my love, and I know you would be so desperate to find them if they were permanently lost, wouldn’t you?”

You nod as you reach for your bandana, but Astarion is faster and pulls it away just in time, smirking at you all the while. “Come to think of it… where is your other bandana, my sweet?”

"It's in here." You murmur, lips already swollen from the rough kiss he'd pulled you into. You turn to the nightstand and withdraw your second bandana, an identical twin to the first. Astarion quickly takes it from your hand and grins mischievously, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as the silken fabric glides from your fingers.

“Good girl. Now, give me your hands.”

You oblige and the rogue deftly binds your wrists together with an expertly tied knot. He tugs at the bindings, testing their strength. Astarion lifts your hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of one before taking the second bandana and folding it into a long strip. Your eyes are fixated on his lithe fingers. Then he presses forward, face mere inches from yours. His eyes are dark and intense, but glimmering with adoration all the same, in a way that floods you with the overwhelming sensation of excitement and safety all in one.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, won't you, my love?”

“Y-yes.” You whisper, almost breathlessly and wholly impatient for what is coming next. Your body still burns with desire and Mermaid Whiskey. The last thing you see is Astarion’s eyes before the second bandana shrouds you in darkness.

Cool hands guide you to lay back onto the mattress and soon enough long, nimble fingers languidly trace their way down your body. You feel Astarion’s hands ghost over your arms, down your collarbone, and then trail circles around your breasts where he gives both nipples a gentle, teasing tug before moving on. His fingers brush your abdomen, around the curve of your hips, down the tops of your thighs, and finally to your calves. Then his lips press to your foot, and he works at pressing feather light kisses up your leg.

He continues kissing up your right leg for what seems like forever, fingers still moving tantalizingly along your calf and thigh. By the time the vampire makes his way back up to the top of your thigh, you are wiggling and keening in anticipation. He hovers over your still-clothed mound for a few beats before shifting slightly and returning to kissing down your left leg. You whine in disappointment, your bound hands straining against the fabric as you try to grip your lover. A dark chuckle is all you get in response as Astarion continues to kiss your opposing thigh, nibbling here and there, at a rate that seems somehow even slower than the first leg he worshipped.

By the time he’s placing a kiss to the top of your left foot, you’re writhing wholeheartedly, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to give yourself more stimulation. You don’t dare use your bound hands, knowing the punishment would be further binding and teasing. Astarion unhurriedly runs his hands up your legs once again, stopping to draw leisurely circles at the apex of your thighs before tracing one chilled finger along the waistband of your underwear.

“A-Astarion!” You choke out with another whine, just as the vampire runs that same finger down your still-clothed slit, feeling the wetness now soaking through the fabric from his torments.

Your lover chuckles in dark delight. “I’ve barely even touched you, my needy little love, and yet here you are, positively soaked. Your lesson is far from over, darling.”

There is a moment of silence apart from soft rustling; you cannot see anything, but your ears pick up the sound of Astarion’s buckle coming undone. And then you feel his weight on top of you. You can tell he’s still wearing his briefs as he presses his groin against your sex, legs straddling either side of your hips. Suddenly you feel a sharp pinch on both your nipples. Your back arches in response to the sensation while a pleading groan shoots from your mouth.

“Mm… I think you quite like that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes!” Is all you can reply as you feel Astarion's cold hands kneading the flesh of your breasts before he resumes pinching the swollen buds.

You try to buck your hips, but the bastard knows what he’s doing, and he’s got you pinned perfectly beneath him in a way that renders you all but helpless. Your bound hands search for Astarion’s body, and you barely graze against his abdominals before the vampire rips your hands away with a little tut, laying nearly all his body weight atop you as he raises your hands up over your head. You can feel his breath against your ear before he takes the lobe in his mouth and nibbles. Gods the torture was becoming unbearable. You buck again, another frustrated whine escaping your lips.

“Shhh now, darling. Shame we don’t have a third bandana or you would be gagged. We are quite impatient today, aren’t we?”

You whimper as he continues the abuse to your ear before trailing his tongue down to your neck. “My little whiskey girl…” His lips hover over that familiar little spot on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. Your pulse jumps to greet your lover. “May I?”

You barely nod, “Yes. Please.”

Astarion groans at your response, thrusting his hips forward to press his rock-hard bulge into your folds. You feel a sharp, icy sting in your neck before your body gives way to the delectable ripples of pleasure. The vampire laps from you lazily, rutting against your mound, the still-clothed underside of his cock sawing torturously between the folds of your still-clothed but now dripping slit. He continues suckling, not really drinking for sustenance but more for his own pleasure, his hardening member abusing your swollen clit. You’re keening again, and one of his hands moves to tease your nipple while the other gets lost in your hair, holding you in place as he takes his lazy laps.

“A-Astarion. Astarion! Please, I’m gonna—“

But before you can finish, you feel the wave of pleasure crashing over you and your legs are trembling as you find your release. The elf groans again as you orgasm, now suckling and rutting with more fervor as the taste of your ecstasy courses through your veins. When the crescendo wanes and you’re left panting, Astarion retracts his fangs from your neck with a pleased little hum.

Suddenly the bandana is pulled from your eyes, and you blink, adjusting to the light. The vampire is still straddling you, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face as he wipes the final rivet of blood from his mouth and licks it off his thumb. “Satisfied, darling? Have I paid enough attention to you now?”

You groan and buck your hips again, your drenched undergarments barely rubbing against the rogue’s stiff cock. “No!” You shriek as your bound hands pound back into the mattress.

Astarion’s lips are on yours anew, swallowing your protests as he delves his tongue into your eager mouth. You taste the iron of your own blood and groan, writhing against him and desperately pulling at your bindings. When the rogue pulls back he chuckles before easily delving two fingers inside your ruined undergarments, curling his fingers to barely strum against your swollen clit. You try to arch to meet his digits with a desperate, pleading moan, but the weight of him on your legs keeps you pinned, and you cry out.

“Please, please, please.” You whine in a soft chant coming from your lips, still using all of your strength to barely buck your hips. Your hands are twisting desperately in their bindings. “Please, please, please.”

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you, my love?” He coos, continuing to barely tease your throbbing clit with expert fingers. “What is it that you want?”

“You know what I want!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your frustration bubbling over as the rogue torments that sensitive nub between your legs.

“Hmm… perhaps I do. But you need to ask for the things that you want, my sweet. The parasite is gone and I’m no mind reader.”

“Please put your cock inside me! Please.”

“Hmm... there we are. That’s my good girl. Now, was that really so hard, little love?"

Before you can answer, Astarion’s mouth is enveloping yours as he works to quickly remove his own undergarments. The feeling of his barren member on your mound renews your desperation and you keen into your lover's mouth, causing him to smirk into the kiss. He quickly maneuvers his knee to the inside of your thigh, hitching his own leg up to spread you wide, granting him full access to your sex. Deft fingers slide the thin, arousal-soaked cloth of your underwear aside and then you feel the head of his cock pressed just against your entrance.

“Who do you belong to, my love?” The vampire asks when he pulls away from the kiss, scarlet eyes peering into yours. He’s rocking his hips just slightly, the tip of his member barely teasing in and out of your desperate pussy. He brings his hand to the side of your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek.

“You, Astarion.” You whisper, so entranced by the look in his eyes and the feeling of his cock pressing into you that you can barely think or breath. You try to thrust down to meet your lover's miniscule ministrations, but his other hand has your hip pinned in place.

“Give me your hands again.”

You oblige, and the rogue quickly undoes your fastenings, gently pressing his lips into the angry red marks around your wrists. He takes one of your hands and interlaces your fingers in his. Astarion pins one hand back above your head, but allows you the freedom of the other hand, which you bring to the side of his neck.

Then the vampire kisses you once more. As his lips press into yours, his cock slides into your eagerly awaiting cunt. Every ripple of Astarion's thick shaft makes your body sing in delight, and you're groaning into the elf's mouth as he begins to make fervent love to you, hips snapping with vigor as he sheaths and unsheathes himself in a steady rhythm.

“You are… entirely infuriating… and vexing, sometimes. Do you know that, little love?” He purrs between his lips enveloping yours, tongue exploring your mouth. The vampire plunges into you with steady determination, slowly picking up his tempo.

You’re breathless, rolling your hips to meet the rogue’s. Your eyes are shut as you smirk at his comment. “I know.. I just think you’re so sexy when you’re frustrated.” You respond between panting breaths, and that earns you a rough thrust that hits your cervix and knocks the air from your lungs as you moan in surprise.

Astarion’s hand that isn’t intertwined with yours comes under your chin and takes a firm hold, pressing just enough on your windpipe to create the delicious feeling of breathlessness without actually preventing you from breathing. Your eyes snap open from the sensation.

“You. Are. A. Naughty. Girl.” He hisses, eyes boring into your own, face mere inches from yours, and each word punctuated by another forceful snap of his hips. You moan at the feeling of his length slamming into your cervix. By this time, he’s panting and the flush on his ears is rising, and you know he’s close to his own release. One of Astarion's fingers is lingering dangerously close to your mouth as he clutches your neck; you take the digit between your lips and begin to suck.

As the vampire sees your tongue snake around his finger, he’s done for. All resolve is gone, and your lover fucks into you with reckless abandon as you moan around his hand. The grip on your neck tightens as he starts to emit his own cries of pleasure, and your hand wraps tightly onto his neck in response, nails digging into cold flesh.

“Do you see what you do to me?” He asks through gritted teeth as his thrusts become sloppy. You’re seeing stars, and the friction of his pelvis paired with the intense throbbing of your abused pussy is sending you towards a second climax. As your body reaches its crescendo, you release Astarion’s finger from between your lips and cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The rogue hears your beautiful cry and feels the pulsing of your sex, which finally pushes him over the edge as he spills into you, cock twitching with every new stream of seed.

His mouth is on yours before you finish your strangled cry of release, and Astarion’s works to kiss you down from your incredible high. The vampire releases your neck, and the passionate force of his lips slowly ebbs into a gentle, lazy kiss. Eventually, with both of your bodies fully spent, the rogue rolls onto his side, sliding himself from you and spilling the evidence of your love making across the silky sheets.

Astarion rolls from the bed, and you whine, but he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he promises he will be right back. He slips his trousers on and exits the room for a minute, only to return with the book he seemed obsessed with. Part of you is annoyed when the rogue settles back into bed, opening his arm so you can nestle yourself in the crook.

You give him a little pout. “Do you not love me more than you love these books? I’m beginning to worry I’ve coupled myself to another Gale. I was sure that tonight would distract you and I would have you all to myself.”

Astarion chuckles, shaking his head slightly before turning to kiss you on the forehead. “My sweet, surely you know the depths of my love for you far surpass the pages of a book. And you are always distracting... even when I am thinking of something else, I am also thinking of you.”

He shuts the book and taps his hand on the cover, lithe fingers moving to trace the embossed words of the title. “I apologize if I’ve been consumed and you’ve felt neglected, my darling. This book is just… intriguing.”

You turn your head and for the first time, read the title: ‘The Creation of Dhampirs: A Guide.”

Oh.

Your brow furrows as you turn to look at Astarion, and you see a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. This look was different from his unfortunately familiar one that he displayed during flashbacks and night terrors… this one contained hope.

“Are you imagining your future, Astarion?” You ask, sitting up just enough to place a kiss on your lover’s cheek and brush a few wayward curls back into place. “If you are, then I’d better be there by your side.”

The rogue snaps out of his reverie and turns to look at you again, his expression laced with love. He extends his long arm backwards, dropping the tome on the nightstand before placing his hand on your face. Astarion’s thumb strokes your cheek and he sighs happily before whispering, “Yes, you’d better be.”

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Knightmare In Toronto

Chapter 1: First Meetings

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

You awoke to a scream.

Having just laid down for a midday nap after an arduous night shift, one can imagine the irritation you felt as you shot up from your place on the couch, grumbling groggily like an old person.

"I swear to fucking- Who the fuck are you?!"

That is, until you caught sight of the screamer: a short, medievally-dressed man who looked like he had accidentally wandered in from the Renaissance Faire or escaped from the jousting pits of the Medieval Times restaurant. A large sword sheathed in a blue scabbard hung from his back, which was why you scrambled up, grabbed a pillow, and brandished it at this medieval home invader. "Answer me!"

To his credit, the man raised his hands and backed away, his expression shocked and apprehensive. Good. "I- Ma'am- Where am I?!"

"What does it look like?" You snarled. "This is my house, dipshit!"

"There's got to be some misunderstanding," as he stammered an explanation, you took inventory of his increasingly odd outfit. His shirt-... tunic(?) looked like he had taken four pieces of different colored fabric and sewn them together, then slapped some brown tights and jester boots on and called it a day. He was also really short, no more than five foot two if you were being generous. "The portal never drops us in houses, always clearings or streams, but that was only once-"

What the fuck?

"Are you on drugs?"

The man blinked, looking at you like you'd grown a second head. "I can assure you I'm not-"

"Then why are you in my house?" You asked cautiously, lowering your pillow just a smidge. He didn't seem the type to chop you up and bury your bones, but one could never be too careful.

"Well, there's this portal-"

"Drugs."

"-No. But it usually drops us off outside," you watched apprehensively as he ran a hand through his stick-straight blonde hair, which was long enough that the only thing holding it back was the thick green bandana around his head. "Would you be so kind as to tell me what region we're in?"

...Region? This guy really was weird, but at least he hadn't tried anything funny with that sword of his. "Uh... Toronto."

It was almost funny how quickly the guy's face changed from inquisitive to downright baffled. "Excuse me, but I don't think I heard you right?"

As weird as having an intellectual conversation about location with a home intruder in your living room was, you couldn't say you were surprised; trouble always seemed to find you one way or another. "We're in Toronto," nothing. You pressed further. "You know, Canada."

"...What?"

The silence spoke volumes as you stared each other down, though you eventaully broke it with an exhausted sigh. "Listen, man, I'm just trying to get some sleep. I'll get you a map and you don't steal my throw blankets, deal?"

Without waiting for a response, you hightailed it to the kitchen of your two-story rambler and retrieved a map from the far cupboard. Your on-and-off job at a tourist company came with many perks, some of which being: yearly adventure passes to the 12-and-under under-the-sea theme park, Royal Ontario Museum tickets during the busiest time in touring season, and a full crate of maps that would never see the light of day.

Until now, that is.

The strange man was still in your living room when you sauntered back in, though he had turned his attention to your television, a box of an appliance you pilfered from a garage sale a few years back. He was poking it with a distinct air of confusion, which only cemented your belief that he was on some type of drug--it was almost like he had teleported here from the fucking medieval era instead of breaking in through your-... well, you didn't actually know where or how he had broken in, but you sure as hell would find out after this conundrum. You held out the map. "Here," you watched as he unfurled the thing, looking no less baffled than he had a minute ago. "I assume you can read?"

The man nodded, all traces of his earlier panic gone. "Thank you for your help. I'm Four.

"(Y/n)," you responded, half-wondering who on earth would name their kid that.

"Say, you wouldn't be able to tell me where the hero of this land is?"

"The... hero?" You echoed. "You mean the prime minister-?"

You would have put more thought into the depths of this insanity, but there was a loud crash in the kitchen that overwrote all desire to discretely call an ambulance for the poor guy. Four was hot on your heels as you rushed to the kitchen, having drawn his sword. "Watch the fuck where you're putting that," you tried to say, but a new voice shocked you into silence.

"Oww, Legend!" In the middle of your pristine floor was another blonde stranger, though he seemed no older than twelve or thirteen. A light blue tunic with gray sleeves hung down nearly to his knees, clothed in gaudy orange tights. Sky blue eyes turned to you and Four. "Where am I?"

Behind you, Four re-sheathed his sword. You breathed a sigh of relief, but it was for naught when the teenager practically sprung up to vigorously shake your hand. "Hi! I'm L- er, Wind! What's your name?"

You told him, feeling quite numb at his point.

"Cool name! You're so tall, I think you might be taller than Twilight and T..." you were already beginning to block him out, looking to Four for answers.

"I don't suppose you know anything about this?"

"I told you; portal," said Four, like that solved everything.

"I think I'm on drugs," you muttered, thinking back to that new Chinese restaurant you tried last night, at the same time Wind chimed in: "You told them?"

Four opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Okay, I don't know who or why you are, but you need to leave. Now."

"Aww," Wind pouted. "But you haven't met everyone!"

Not that you'd say it to his face, but you didn't think you wanted to. "I'll be fine. And so will you. I gave your... friend a map."

"Oh, alright," said Wind, if not a bit dejected. One of your heartstrings twinged. "Thank you."

"Anytime," you turned to Four. "You'll be fine?"

"Should be," he sighed. "We've been in these kinds of situations before."

Okay, now you felt a bit bad. Sure, they had broken into your house and scared the living daylights out of you, but it wasn't like they had been rude. Despite the impossible circumstances, Four and Wind seemed like decent guys who ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Wait," two sets of eyes turned to you. "...It would be cruel to make you leave without a bite to eat."

Both Four and Wind grin, and it's almost uncanny how similar they look. You offer a small smile, snag a small paper bag from the counter, and make a b-line for the middle cupboard, where a few packs of trail mix can be found. You shove all five in the bag, then add a few protein bars and tangerines for good measure. "Y'all don't have any food allergies, right?"

"Nope," says Four, right as Wind chimes: "Nu-uh!"

Cute, you think before you can stop yourself. "Good, hope you like tangerines and a whole lot of peanuts."

The brown paper crinkles as you fold it down, using a teal paperclip to secure it for good measure. You proudly hand the bag to Wind, who smiles like he just got his dream birthday present. Four nods to you, smiling in a far calmer manner. "We'll be going now, thanks for everything."

"Stay safe," is what you said, or, rather, what you would have said if the air above you hadn't inexplicably reformed in the form of a heavy object dropping down on you, knocking you to the ground as Wind's screams rang out. As you lay, prone and aching, on the unwashed floor, your last thought before unconsciousness was that you really needed to get rid of those maps.

That's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as I did writing it, so be sure to reboot or leave a comment if you liked it!

All LU characters belong to JoJo!

[fieldsofwriting]

With Hayden having Henrietta and Juniper having Dozy, what do you think is every love interest's ideal pet? I feel like a good amount of them would wind up being cat people to be honest lol

You are very right, I think everyone would be very ride or die with thier pets tbh. Like there is friendly debates at the Tavern over who is the best. They'd have a best in show every year. Head cannons below the cut!

Balor:

This man is a Cat lover through and through. There is no convincing me otherwise.

I could see him having the sweetest little black cat- ya know to add to they mystery vibees.

He would love to have the cat run around with him, and when he's out and about I can see it curling up around his shoulders.

THIS MAN SPOILS HIS BABY.

So much, this cat wants for absolutely nothing.

If he gets it after his D&D sessions- it have a silly name like Snickelfritz. For the vibes.

Reina:

She strikes me as a dog girlie honestly.

I think she'd like using her dog as an excuse to get out of the kitchen every now and again and just go on walks with them.

I think she'd have a chocolate lab- yes because of the name but I also can't see her having a little dog.

She would spoil the shit out of the dog too- this dog gets so many homemade treats.

Not to mention Hemlock would feed him table scraps. And Luc would love to take them out too for bug adventures.

I could also see her being the kinda dog owner to give them cute little bandana's and everything to wear.

They'd also probably have a food name tbh.

Celine:

I think she could go either way. I can definitely see her having both cats and dogs growing up.

But once she's moved out? I think she's got a bunny.

She'd LOVE taking them out to her garden and letting them roam.

She'd also love being able to give the bunny farm fresh foods!

I mean look at her and tell me that she doesn't look like she'd hold a bunny in her arms and walk around town.

She'd make it a little flower crown and everything too.

She'd get Ryis to help her make the best most lavish bunny cage there is too.

I think she'd give the bunny a cute name like Petal.

March:

Okay- hear me out. As a kid? I think he had a bearded dragon. He would have thought they were SO COOL. Alright?

But now, as like an adult? I think he wouldn't hate any animal. Mans a big softy under that hard exterior.

I think though- he'd prefer Dogs over cats.

MOSTLY because the dog would remind him of Olric

Also you've seen those arms. I think be a crime to not get him a dog so you can throw a stick to them.

He'd pretend not to care at all about the dog- but then he'd fight so hard to make it have a cool name. (He'd probably try for Copper.)

You know those dads that are like "Don't bring home any damn animals!" And then bonds with the said animal. That's him.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!! Let me know if you want me to do some of the other characters too!! And thank you for your request! :3 Requests are open!!

[midsummer-semantics]

the hint of a spark

Written for day 3 of @steddieangstyaugust.

Prompt: "The sunset looks lovely, doesn't it?"

Rating: G | WC: 2k | S4 Canon Compliant

Title from "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie

divider from @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The calm before the storm is always Steve’s least favorite part. The idle waiting they all have to do before a plan can be set in motion. It’s worse now, somehow, than it was in ‘83 or ‘84 (he doesn’t think about ‘85, when most of the waiting was done tied to a chair under the heavy influence of Russian drugs). Now, half of their group is AWOL and there’s a new person that shouldn’t have been involved in the first place.

It’s still early, their plan not beginning until after the sun goes down, but Steve is restless. He wants to finish this. Finally. Three years of his life tied to the bullshit that this Vecna guy has pulled and for what? What’s the goddamn point?

“Brooding all by yourself, handsome?” a voice comes, startling Steve out of his… okay, he was brooding. He looks over to find Eddie climbing the ladder that leads to the top of the caravan, which Steve had retreated to with a flimsy excuse of ‘keeping watch’ while the others tried to get some rest, charge up for the night ahead of them.

He waits until Eddie takes a seat next to him, offering a crooked smile before responding. “Got an image to maintain.”

Eddie snorts as he settles, one leg extended so his foot hangs off the side of the RV, the other bent so he can rest his elbow on his knee. “Even in the face of impending doom, you’re still the formidable King Steve,” he quips, but it lacks the bitterness that Steve’s used to hearing when that nickname comes up.

Steve bumps his shoulder to Eddie’s, a silent acknowledgment of the joke.

It’s quiet this far away from downtown. Not the suffocating quiet of his house or the droning quiet of Family Video on a slow day. A peaceful quiet. The kind of quiet that Steve hasn’t experienced in a while. The kind that lets him delude himself into thinking that the world is a quiet place, where the leaves rustle on the trees and crickets chirp to give the temperature and there’s no alternate dimension ready to rise up and raze the town. 

It’s a shame it’s March, he thinks. If it was summer, the fireflies would be beginning their nightly dance, one turning to two turning to a hundred as the sun sets over the open field. There’d be the smell of impending rain as another summer storm rolls in and a fox or two running to find a burrow.

Steve’s always been a big fan of summers: the sunshine and the adventure, the possibilities, the liminal space between school terms that allows him to just exist without thought for what came before or what comes after.

He still likes summer, even if the beginning of July is likely to be less exciting after last year. A lot of things have been ruined thanks to the crap they’re going to face later.

“How do you do it?” Eddie asks, once again breaking through Steve’s contemplative silence.

“Huh?”

Eddie flicks open his zippo, which is the only thing that survived the dive into the Upside Down since his cigarettes didn’t. Steve watches him spark a flame, snuff it out, open, spark, snuff, repeat.

“All of—” Eddie waves his free hand over them then the RV they’re sitting on, “—this. The battles. The interdimensional plot twists. The fucking….” He sighs, shaking his head, his hair swiveling around under the bandana he’s already tied over it. “Everything.”

Steve takes a moment to look, really look, at the man sitting beside him. Eddie’s eyes are huge, pleading, but beyond that they glisten in the fading daylight. They contain the horrors that he’s faced in the last few days, but they also contain galaxies, the beginning and end of worlds as they sparkle and shine.

He’s a little pale, sure, like he hasn’t seen daylight in two years, but the color rising to his cheeks as Steve studies him gives heat to the simmering in Steve’s stomach that started since Eddie held a broken bottle to his throat. 

Since before that, probably. The first time sophomore-Steve saw Eddie Munson stand on top of a lunch table and wax poetic about the system and forced conformity. 

The first time Steve really thought ‘I want to be like that.’

He doesn’t mean loud or angry or volatile, he has plenty of that hidden between the bricks of his carefully crafted walls. He knows what attention feels like, knows that, at one point, people looked to him like he brings some sort of message only they can get from him. No. He means unapologetic, open, himself.

He hasn’t really felt any of that since November ‘83. He’s made an active effort to feel nothing at all, because feeling means hurt and pain, and nothing means…

“You get used to it,” Steve states, tone light despite the tempest swirling in his being.

Eddie stares at him for several beats, enough time to have the younger man almost turning away. “That’s pretty fucked up, Steve.”

Steve scoffs, mostly because Eddie’s right and he knows that, but also because it’s second nature. Scoff at the drama, the trauma, the ridiculous things. 

Old habits die hard.

“No, but really,” Eddie continues. “You’ve been through a lot. Way more than you’ve told me, I know for sure. So…”

Steve shrugs, brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, normally we have—”

“The girl with super powers, yeah, I get it,” Eddie snaps. “But that doesn’t explain how you get through it all. Because if I’m honest, man, I’m about three seconds from running at every moment and you just…” He inhales and exhales heavily. “You just keep going. How?”

Steve sighs, turning back to watch the sky begin its change from blue to orange. 

“I dunno, man. I haven’t really gotten a chance to stop and think about it since it all started.”

That’s not entirely true. There’s been lulls between events before, time when Steve probably should have processed everything he’s been through. But again, it’s easier to just ignore it. Count his lucky stars that he survived another fight and then move on in the hopes he doesn’t have to do it again.

Eddie continues to fiddle with his lighter, occasionally spinning it between his forefinger and thumb before going through the motions once more. Open, spark, snuff, again.

“I guess that’s part of what I don’t get. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened.”

Steve doesn’t ask him to clarify, he doesn’t need to. Not when he gets it completely.

“Barbra Holland died in my pool,” he says, once again looking out over the field. The sun has dipped below the treeline now, the sky darkening.

Eddie’s movements stop altogether. “What?”

“Yep,” Steve says, popping the P. “The night Will Byers went missing. The demogorgon that took him also killed her.”

He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him as the metalhead speaks. “And… where were you?”

Upstairs. Taking Nancy Wheeler’s virginity.

“Inside with some friends. It happened so fast, no one even heard it.”

“Shit, dude. So you’ve really been in this since the very beginning.”

Steve nods absently. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He doesn’t really think of it like that. Or, he hadn’t until now, he supposes. Mostly, he just blames himself, even though realistically he knows there’s nothing he could have done at the time even if they’d all been outside with Barb. It likely would have resulted in all of their deaths instead. There was no nail bat or firearms at that point. Just four stupid kids and an innocent girl who didn’t deserve to die.

“Billy didn’t die in the mall fire either,” he redirects.

“Oh jeez,” Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me, another demogorgon attack?”

Steve chuckles, can’t help it. “I wish. No, Mind Flayer that time.”

“It’s really uncomfortable the way all of these monsters are named after D&D characters.”

Steve laughs again, fiddling with the zipper tab on his vest. He wishes Eddie still had his cigarettes.

“Yeah, a bunch of people went missing and it turned out they were all melting into goo to create this 50-foot monster thing,” he explains, glancing over at Eddie’s horrified look. Honestly, it sounds unbelievable, like something entirely made up, so it’s a little sad to see in real-time that Eddie believes him. “Billy was working for it, I guess. I don’t really understand the connection even now. Anyway, we tried to take it out with fireworks—”

“Fireworks?” Eddie guffaws. 

Steve snorts. “Yeah well, it was all we had available. Well, that, and Nancy had a pistol, but there’s no way it would have stood a chance against this thing. But yeah, Billy tried to fight it, it was going to kill El, er, Supergirl, and Billy… I don’t know. Had a change of heart?” He shakes his head. “It was too strong, though. And he… he didn’t…”

Steve trails off, memories of that night flashing through his mind. It’s still, even now thanks to the drugs that had been in his system, but the crunching of bones and the piercing scream Max let out still ring in his ears if he listens close enough.

“So yeah,” he says after a moment. “I just try not to think about it.”

Eddie still looks scandalized when Steve looks at him again, his brows furrowed and his eyes shining in the dying daylight. He’s thinking, Steve can tell by the way his jaw flexes and his eyes dart over Steve’s face. Finally, the metalhead brings a hand up, resting it on Steve’s shoulder.

“And here you are, about to run head-first into battle again. You’re pretty amazing, Steve.”

Steve’s heart thumps hard at Eddie’s words, the touch to his shoulder that he can’t really feel through the tactical layers, but the weight of Eddie’s hand is enough.

“Thanks, man,” he replies, hesitating only for a moment before bringing his own hand up and resting it on Eddie’s bent knee. He can feel Eddie’s skin under his palm through the rip in the denim, and he absently drags his thumb across it. “So are you.”

It’s probably too forward. They barely know each other, and Steve might be overly familiar with what a crush feels like, but this doesn’t seem like the ideal time to explore that feeling. Although, if they’re going to die tonight, then he might as well let it ripple out in the open while he can.

Eddie drags his gaze away from Steve’s face to look down at his hand on his knee, this breathing a little shallower. Steve doesn’t stop touching him, won’t unless Eddie tells him to. But Eddie doesn’t, he swallows harshly and looks back up at Steve with a question in his eyes that Steve gives a nod and small smile to. They don’t need to talk about it. Either they survive tonight and can talk about it after, when the dust settles, or they don’t and talking wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

Instead, they sit in the quiet calm before the storm, Eddie only moving to brush the hand on Steve’s shoulder across his back to the other side, scooting a little closer to lay his head on the now free shoulder. Steve keeps his hand on Eddie’s knee, moving it just enough to cup the inside of it, holding him a little tighter.

“The sunset is lovely, don’t ya think?” Eddie asks, hushed, like it would shred the little blanket of night that’s folded over them.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, resting his chin on the top of Eddie’s bandana-covered head, wishing it wasn’t there so he could press his lips to Eddie’s hair, feel the curls against his skin, take in his scent if it’s the only chance he’ll get to do so. “It is.”

[rorylovesmatt]

As of late I’ve been watching all of the sturniolo’s old videos, and I got this idea what if Y/N and the triplets were born 2 days apart (both of their families are close friends) and have been best friends ever since. And every time y/n would make an appearance in their videos all of their fans thought something was going on between y/n and Matt because of how close they would get and the side eyes they would give each other. So when y/n decided to do a Q & A on her YouTube channel years later with the triplets a fan asked if she remembered the very first video she did with the triplets about how one of her biggest dream was to rent out an entire zoo which gives the guys an idea to surprise y/n with them buying out the entire zoo, so when the triplets decide to make the video ’we bought a zoo’. And they ask y/n if she wants to be in one of their new videos and she decides that she will do it with them, but she didn’t know what the video was about, and when they get there y/n was so excited that when she hugged Nick and Chris she forgot to just hug Matt that she ended up kissing him, and she asked Nick not to cut that part out that it was time to tell the fans that Matt and y/n have been together since freshman year of high school.

Surprise - Matt sturniolo

summary: Y/N and the triplets have been friends since forever. One day the triplets decided to surprise her with something she’s been wanting for forever

warnings: i don’t think there’s any

word count: 815

a/n: sorry for ghosting you guys i’ve just been feeling really unmotivated!!

Y/N had been friends with the triplets for as long as she could remember. Their bond was unbreakable, formed over countless shared memories, inside jokes, and a deep understanding of one another. Growing up in the same neighborhood they had been through thick and thin together, supporting each other through every challenge life threw their way.

One sunny Saturday morning, the triplets had an idea for a surprise for Y/N. Knowing her love for animals they decided to rent out a zoo for the day and film the entire adventure. They kept their plan a secret, excited to see the look on her face when they revealed the surprise.

The day began like any other. Y/N received a text from Nick asking her to meet them at their house. On the drive there she felt curious about their plan for the day but expecting another typical hangout. When she arrived the triplets were bubbling with excitement, barely able to contain their secret.

"Y/N we have a surprise for you" Chris announced, his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah you're going to love it" Nick added with a grin

"Close your eyes" Matt instructed, gently covering her eyes with Chris’s yellow bandana

She giggled feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. They led her outside and helped her into their car. The drive was filled with music and small hints, heightening her anticipation. After what felt like forever they finally arrived at their destination.

"Okay someone take the blindfold off of her" Nick said getting the camera prepared.

Y/N opened her eyes to find herself standing in front of a zoo. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"No way! You guys rented out a zoo?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with amazement.

"We sure did" Matt said proudly. "All for you."

They spent the day exploring the zoo, feeding the animals, and capturing every moment on camera. Y/N was in awe, her heart swelling with gratitude for her incredible friends. They laughed, played, and created memories that would 100% last a lifetime.

As the day was coming to an end, they found themselves in front of the lion enclosure. Nick and the camera man suggested they film a closing segment for their video before they went to bed.

"Y/N stand in the middle. Matt, you stand next to her. Chris, you're on the other side." Nick said while pointing to the direction he was talking about.

Y/N and Matt exchanged a glance, their hearts pounding. Unbeknownst to their friends Y/N and Matt had developed feelings for each other over the past few months. They had kept it a secret unsure of how to tell Nick and Chris. The moment felt surreal, standing there with Matt knowing their secret was about to be revealed.

As Nick started recording Y/N felt a surge of courage. She turned to Matt and without giving it a second thought, leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft and tender kiss filled with all the unspoken emotions they had kept hidden for so long.

Nick and Chris froze, their eyes widening in shock. Y/N pulled back, her cheeks flushed.

"Uh, Y/N?" Nick said, his voice tinged with surprise.

Y/N took a deep shaky breath, her heart racing. "Nick, Chris, there's something we need to tell you."

Matt took her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We've been seeing each other for a while now" he admitted, his eyes locked on his brothers.

Chris was the first to break the silence. "Wow, I did not see that coming."

Nick, recovering from his initial shock grinned. "Well this is definitely going in the video."

"Nick!" Y/N protested, her face turning even redder.

"No really!" Nick insisted, a mischievous glint in his eye. "This is golden. Everyone will love it."

Y/N looked at Matt, who shrugged with a smile. "What do you think?" he asked her.

She sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. "Fine keep it in the video. But only if you promise to edit it nicely."

"Deal" Nick said shaking her hand playfully.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and teasing as they wrapped up their zoo adventure. Y/N felt a sense of relief knowing that her relationship with Matt was out in the open and accepted by their closest friends.

The video turned out to be a perfect blend of fun, surprise and heartfelt moments. Capturing the essence of their unbreakable friendship and the new chapter in Y/N and Matt's relationship.

As they uploaded the video and shared it with their fans, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the triplets. They had always been there for her, and now, with Matt by her side in a new way, she knew their bond was stronger than ever.

[lostfirefly]

Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more (Ch.1)

This idea came from the dream. Again :)) Sorry not sorry :)

Buggy and F!Reader.

Description: You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Warnings: Buggy The Jealous For No Reason Jerk Clown, established relationship, arguing.

Words: 1637

The title is taken from "Gone Forever" by Wearing Scars.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were sorting out a new delivery of flowers when the bell on the door of your store rang loudly. “Just a minute, please, I’ll just put the flowers in the vase and come out to you!” you shouted from the back room. 

“Miss, I can’t wait a whole minute. I would like to buy a bouquet of beautiful roses, but I’m in a hurry!” An insistent male voice said from the next room. 

A shiver ran through your body. You quickly placed a fresh bouquet of roses in a large ceramic vase and headed into the hall. You opened the door and couldn't help but smile. 

"Hello!" you said as you exhaled. 

"Hey, my sweet cookie!" He stood near the cash register, leaning on the table. 

Your blue-haired man with a big red nose and his famous makeup. Your favorite pirate. Your favorite clown. Your beloved Captain Buggy.

"Finally!!" You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. "What are you.. How are..? Why are..?" You started kissing him on the lips, cheeks, temples, avoiding his nose. “I missed you so much!”

"Answering all your questions at once. We needed to resupply, and I said to dock our ship at your island. I really wanted to see my cookie." He smiled widely and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

You felt the warmth of his touch even through his white gloves. 

"For how long?" You asked quietly, running your hands over his forearms. 

"Two or three days."

“Well, it's better this time." You laughed. “But I need to finish up some work tasks at the store. Can you wait? I’ll close it early today.”

“I’ve come such a long way to you, and you still ask? My sweet cookie, you hurt me.” He shook his head and chuckled.

You smiled, kissed him on the lips again and quickly ran to finish your work. Buggy was wandering from corner to corner, periodically visiting you in the back room to distract you. 

After finishing your work, you closed the store, took Buggy’s hand and led him to your home. On the way you asked him about his adventures, about the sea, other pirates and where he would go next.

“Come in. I’ll make us tea.” You led him into your house and closed the door. 

"Tea? I thought we'd do something else." He said with a slight croak in his voice. 

“We have three more days for something else. Tea first. Are you hungry? I can cook something.”

Buggy shrugged. 

You suggested him to help make a meal together. You opened the bottle of rum just to make the cooking process funnier. When the dish was ready, you sat the plates with food down at the table. 

You sat on his lap, constantly looked at him, smiled and blushed every time he said that this was the most delicious dish in the world. You cannot stop running your hand over his red and white bandana and didn’t know how to stop smiling.

Buggy kissed your hands, your cheeks, your lips and you blushed the whole time.

While you were talking about everything and nothing, there was a knock on the door. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

“No. I don’t know who it is. Please wait, I’ll be right back.” You kissed him on the cheek and ran to open the door. 

"Tom, what are you doing here?" Your old friend was standing on the threshold. Tall, pumped-up brunette with brown eyes. 

“I thought you were sitting alone. Me, Billy and Drew are going to a bar and I thought I should invite you to join us.” He leaned on the door frame and crossed his arms. "So. Get ready, darling, let's go and have some fun!" 

"Sorry, I can't, I'm busy."

“Come on, pretty girl, we had so much fun last time!" 

“Tom, I’m sorry. I’m busy, I have guests. We’ll talk later. Bye-bye!” You quickly pushed him out of the doorway and closed the door. 

You walked back to the kitchen.

“Sorry!” You hugged Buggy's neck from behind and kissed his cheek. He turned around. 

"What happened?" You asked, carefully removing your hands from his neck.

"Who was that?" He asked dryly and turned his gaze to you.

“Where? Ah! This is Tom. I told you about him, remember? The guy we lived next door to when we were kids, our parents were friends. Well, somehow we became friends too.”

“Just friends?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, why?" You asked, sitting down on the chair.

“Well, I don’t know. He comes to you almost in the middle of the night to invite you somewhere, calls you a pretty girl. Maybe you have more than just fun spending time with him.”

“What? What are you talking about? I didn’t think about anything bad. He’s cute, of course, but we’re just friends and that’s all.” You took his hand. Buggy looked displeased and pulled his hand out of your hands. 

“Of course he’s cute.” He mumbled. “Did you just go to the bar?” Buggy didn’t take his eyes off you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You said he's cute." 

"Oh my god, are you serious? Why are you clinging to words?"

"I'm not!" He rose his voice.

"I'm not making a complaint to you. I could make a claim against you with the same zeal. You generally disappear at sea for months. And taking into account the fact that you have pretty girls in your crew..." You took a sip of rum from the glass. 

"I had nothing like that in my mind, but thanks for the hint." He crossed his arms and leaned on the back of his chair.

"Buggy, are you okay today? Why are you acting like this? I told you he's just a friend. I wanted to spend time with the person I love. Oh, by the way, where is he?" You angrily put an empty glass on the table. 

Buggy was silent for a second. “You started it yourself...” 

“I didn’t start anything.” You took the fork, twirled it in your hands and threw it on the table. “You're the one who got mad for no reason!” 

“So why the hell does he come to you here? He also talks in such a tone. No one has the right to come here at all!” He continued to glare at you.

You looked at him and didn’t know whether to cry or get angry. "Nothing works." You said in a whisper. 

"Nothing works?" Buggy asked in surprise. 

"Our relationship. Nothing works." 

“Sorry, what?" 

“Can't you hear me? Our relationship. It doesn't work like that, Buggy. Relationships are built on trust. I can't do that. You disappear for months, I don't hear anything from you. I don't know if you're alive or dead. Will you come? Or you won't come. Maybe you've already forgotten about me and exchanged me for the first girl you meet in every port. You come when it's convenient only for you, but I don't torment you every time with scenes of jealousy."

"I've asked you a million times to join my crew and stay on the ship with me." He spoke dryly and through clenched teeth.

“And I told you a million times that I can’t stay with you on your ship. At least for now. I have a job, a store, old parents, and friends here.” 

“You’ll see your parents and friends, just less often. What’s the big deal?” He shrugged.

“What's the big deal? I can’t give up everything just because a little grown-up boy wants it so much!” You raised your voice.

"What do you mean?" 

“I can't leave my parents. They are old. Do you understand? They need me. Just because no one cared about you before doesn’t mean my family is like that. We care about each other. They care about me and love me.” You felt your head starting to hurt. “I can't. I just can't. I’m going to sleep." 

Buggy looked at you, not a single muscle moved on his face. “I offered you to live with me. I offered you freedom and the ocean. But apparently, you don't really want to leave with the captain freak. And if you don't want it now, then you'll never want it. It will be better for you to stay with this Tom, am I right?”

“I told you, I don’t want to go on the ship right now. But I wanted to be in a relationship with you. The relationship with you was important to me. But last time I see you once every three to four months and then if I’m lucky. But for some reason, even in this case, you don’t trust me.”

"Wanted? Was important? In the past tense?" He asked in surprised tone.

“I don’t know. Have you noticed that in our last meetings we often quarrel? I’m tired. From scandals. From everything. I thought we would sit and talk. I've been missing you all this time. And now I don't wanna t... I don't know what I want. I wanna sleep.” 

“You suggest that we go to bed or that I should leave your house altogether with the phrase “I’m tired of everything” and “was important? Maybe you'll just say that you're tired of me? Just say you want to leave me. Just like he once left me. Just like everyone always did, everyone abandoned me."

“Oh, no, not again. Have you tried at least once in your life not to blame this Shanks for everything?" You grabbed your head and put your elbows on the table.

Buggy abruptly stood up from the table. 

"You're starting to behave like that again. You know, i think I need.. no.. we need a short rest from each other." 

"Rest? You mean break up?" 

"Rest is rest, Buggy. It's not a breakup.”

The last thing you heard was him slamming the front door.

“Fuck!” You thought. 

[simpingresponsibly]

Yess!!! Cowboy dream would be great

We need cowboy dream

I did actually write a Rivals duo cavalry fic that's admittedly a couple years old at this point but does involve Dream and horses <3 I just think it's neat,,

all cowboy Dreams are good cowboy Dreams!!!! here's a snippet that got out of hand for you. because I am who I am it's a bit of a blend between ccDream team and cDream team

--

Dream's used to being on the road. He likes it. Gives him space to think, to plan, to explore. He loves riding horseback, coaxing his girl to go just a bit faster, a bit longer, with an apple from his pack and a pat on the neck. It's a bit lonely, sometimes, but Dream's used to being alone. Even when he was back east, he used to travel long distances between towns to visit his then-girlfriend. He learned to love the ride, even if he doesn't think of her often anymore.

When they told him to go west, young man, he wasn't sure what he would find. It's lonely and big but the sky is there and the stars are close when he sleeps under them at night. Sometimes that's all you need.

Nobody knows who he is when he rolls into town. The bandana covering most of his face, to protect from the dust and the sun, probably helps with that. He's looking for a better life, but all of the grifters who roll through probably are.

He wants to build a homestead, a real community house, to shelter people like him. And against all odds, he manages to scrape up enough money and support to start building it. It's mostly legitimate jobs at first, but anyone who wanders these parts knows that Colonel Beast offers the best wages for the most detestable work.

Rather than help the ex-Confederate maintain his empire, Dream prefers cutting at the flesh of the great beast where it will make him bleed. Because cash seems to run through his veins, it drips straight into Dream's pockets.

Dream's perfected the art of dropping down silently onto the top of passing trains from nearby cliffs and robbing them for all they're worth. Often railway bonds, sometimes weapon stores, sometimes cold hard cash. Sometimes people are the cargo, and he's been known to set free a chain gang or two.

That's how he first meets George; covered in soot and up to his elbows in engine grease on one of the Colonel's steam locomotives. The protective goggles he wore reflected Dream's own masked face back at him as he pointed the barrel of the gun.

Don't want no trouble. Dream had assured him. Just stop this here train so I can alight, you won't ever have to see me again.

That's too bad. George had grinned. I could go for a bit of trouble.

There was room enough on the horse for two, and covered in coal like he was, George blended easily into the night with him. They slept under the rock formations that night, around a low fire. Dream was only mildly surprised that George hadn't decided to rob him blind when he woke.

Sapnap was a surprise: The son of a sheriff with too much to prove and a chip on his shoulder. On his lapel the star still gleamed with polish, glinting in the light. He rode after Dream and George, Wanted poster gripped tightly in one hand.

The sheriff's boy was a fine rider and they were slower on his girl's back with two. Deaf to George's protests, Dream dismounted and sent them on ahead with a slap to the horse's behind, to hide in the skeleton bones of the house they were building.

After he was taken into the jailhouse, Dream saw his opportunity. Whispers exchanged through the bars of a cell door, talking to Sapnap about all the cowardly things in this world and how he didn't have to be one of them. Telling him of adventure and riches and houses with enough beds for three.

When George blew a hole clean through the side of the jail that day, Dream pulled Sapnap along behind him.

Two horses between three of them and home on their minds, they rode out into that blazing sunset. If you were to see them again, well, you'd probably wish you hadn't.

[linkedspirit-fanartfunart]

[Image Description: A colored line-up of various Legend of Zelda characters for the Linked Spirit AU. The characters read left-to-right: "Marin, she/her, pre-Hyule Warriors" is a young redhead girl with a purple cloak and maroon and white dress. She has her hands politely held in front of her. "Groose, he/him, Skyward Sword" is a redheaded man with his hands on his hips, wearing a blue tunic and a green caplet. "Greg Moblin, he/him, LoZ 1" is a large gold bulldog like moblin holding a flower in his hands. He wears a red shirt and pants, with a green poncho. "Purah, she/her, Breath of the Wild" a young teenager wearing a black poofy skirt and a tan shirt and coat with red accents. She has a red streak in her white hair, posing with her hand next to her face. "Tulin, he/him, Breath of the Wild" is a pullet age white Rito with one arm as a wing and the other arm ends with a Wind Waker style hand and wing 'sleeve' "Aror, he/him, Twilight Princess, Crossbow Training" is a child Twili oc with red hair and wears a green over the shoulder wrap over a white tunic. "Midna, she/her, Twilight Princess" is a older Twili, with long fluffy ears wearing a black and teal collared cape, She wears a dark purple skirt with a grey fur trim and a wolf head belt clip on the side of her hip. "Medli, she/her, Wind Waker" is a teenaged white Rito, her red hair in a ponytail. She holds a hand to her chest. "Aryll, she/her, Wind Waker" is a young teen with her hand raised excitedly. She wears a purple skirt with a skull pattern, and a blue shirt with flower patterns. She has the Wind Waker's starter sail wrapped around her waist. "Ol' Niko, he/him, Wind Waker, Spirit Tracks" is an elderly man, smiling with his hands on his cane. He wears a red and white stripped shirt with a blue vest. "Gulley, he/him, A Link Between Worlds" is a blond child wearing Link's Cap and a matching green vest over his yellow tunic. He has his hands on his hips. "Ravio, he/him, A Link to the Past, A Link Between Worlds" is a teenager with dark hair that fades into light blue. He waves, winking, wearing a floor length purple robe and dark purple blue. "Grandpa Smith, he/him, Minish Cap, Four Swords Adventures" is a greying beared man, drying his hands on a cloth. He wears a long leather apron over his green tunic, and wears a green bandana. "Skull Kid, he/him, Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask" is a Skull Kid wearing a orange hat and tunic, with green shorts, collar, and gloves. He has a v like mark on his forehead. He holds up a horned skull mask in front of him. "Lady Alma, she/her, Wand of Gamelon" is a young woman with short red hair and a tiara. She raises a hand to her chin dantily, wearing a teal shirt and darker teal skirt. End ID]

A few "NPCs"

I can't say ALL of them will make an appearance in the comic, actually, but these are NPCs that are important to the Links, in one way or another, while also having a few significant design differences from canon (thus why no Linebeck or spryte lol.)

[batmanlovesnirvana]

Chapter seven | midnight adventures.

masterlist

pairing : battinson!bruce wayne x fem!oc.

words : +9k

A/N : Don't know how to feel about this chapter, angst at the end— that seems to be Bruce and Maryam speciality lol

cw : Maryam being annoying but its ok she has her reasons lol, Bruce being a taxi driver at this point, 18+, thriller, medical procedures, angst, mental health issues, depression, ptsd, noire, canon-typical violence, POV alternating, gritty, horror, illness, slow burn, action, fluff, mutual pining, forced proximity, crime families, crime, fighting ect… read at your own risk !

previous chapter

THAT MAN had wrecked her day—not that it had started off great anyway.

But fuck him, all the same.

She couldn't understand why she felt even a flicker of empathy for someone who'd taken part in the slaughter of her people.

Whatever. Fuck him and everyone who backed those so-called "wars."

She went to the grocery store, reminding herself she actually needed real food instead of more takeout. It wasn't that she hated cooking or baking; she loved it, honestly. But lately, she couldn't find the comfort in it she once did.

Once she'd finished her quick run to the nearest market, she headed straight back to her apartment without a second to spare. She needed a nap, desperately. Four hours of sleep last night—especially a night spent as the Wraith—hadn't even come close to enough.

She walked slowly through the familiar streets, a bag of groceries in each hand, letting the sounds and scents of the neighborhood settle over her like an old, worn coat. Children's laughter echoed down the alley, and mothers leaned over balconies, chatting as they clipped laundry to drying lines. The air was thick with a blend of fresh bread and something sharper—weed, most likely. Odd, yet somehow comforting; in Gotham, this strange mix was almost homey.

Near the stairs of her building, a group of teenagers lounged, passing a vape between them. They looked up as she approached, and one of them—a lanky boy with a worn Gotham Knights basketball shirt and a red bandana tied around his head—raised a hand in greeting.

"Mornin', Doc!" he called out, a smirk playing on his face. "How's it goin'? Any luck findin' that psycho yet, or what?"

She adjusted the weight of her bags, returning the smile with a slight nod. "Not yet, Freddy," she replied, her tone casual but laced with the fatigue of long nights and endless files. "But soon, I hope."

"Better hurry up then—city's gettin' crazier every day," another boy chimed in, blowing a lazy ring of vape smoke into the crisp morning air.

She paused on the steps, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "And you all should be doing your homework instead of hanging around here like old men," she teased, her voice light but with a hint of a lecture.

They laughed, trading looks. Freddy shrugged, his grin widening. "What's the point, Doc? We're just gonna end up in some dead-end job anyway—just like everybody else around here." He made a sweeping gesture at the cracked sidewalks and peeling walls around them.

She raised a brow, lifting her chin with mock pride as she shifted the grocery bags. "Hey, I'm a doctor," she pointed out, nudging open the building's heavy door. "Not everybody's doomed."

Freddy laughed, waving her off. "Yeah, well, you don't count! You're, like, the exception around here." Another boy joined in, "Bet you were one of those kids who had their act together in, like, kindergarten."

She chuckled, pushing through the door. "Only sometimes. I didn't even speak English back then!" She held the door for a moment, looking back at them with a more serious expression. "But listen up, boys. School matters. Don't let it slip—you'll regret it."

They shifted a little, Freddy glancing down, scratching his neck. "Yeah... maybe."

She nodded, a small smile softening her tone. "And don't make me have to bail you out someday."

Their laughter trailed off, and for a moment, an unusual silence settled over the group. Freddy gave her a quick, sheepish nod, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, Doc. We hear ya."

With a final look, she let the door swing shut and stepped into the dim, familiar lobby. 

The scent of old wood, damp plaster, and faint traces of whatever the building's pipes had carried over the years wrapped around her like a worn-in blanket. She shifted her bags to one arm and fumbled for her keys, her gaze settling on the row of mailboxes near the stairs.

As she sorted through the usual mix of bills and coupons, her mind drifted to the boys outside. In some ways, they reminded her of her younger self—dreaming of escape, uncertain of what lay beyond, yet feeling the weight of the city pressing down on them. She couldn't help but hope that a few words here and there might nudge them in the right direction.

Then, amidst the mundane stack of letters, her fingers brushed against something different—a red envelope. 

Her heart raced as she pulled it out, feeling a flutter of anticipation. It had been a while since she'd received anything from them. 

The doctor turned the envelope over and noted the wax seal, stamped with an emblem of two golden eagles, an "R" nestled between them, crowned in regal splendor. She traced the seal with her thumb, curiosity piquing her thoughts. 

What could they possibly want?

Unable to contain her impatience, she grabbed her key and carefully opened the envelope. 

As she did, a rich, familiar scent wafted out—roses, sweet and inviting. It was the scent of her madraya, ummi, mama—whatever name she had called her. That fragrance had always felt so precise, so unmistakable, like a whisper of love lingering in the air.

The scent enveloped her in warmth and nostalgia, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket on a chilly night. She brought the paper close to her nose, inhaling deeply, and was instantly transported back to moments long forgotten, bittersweet and tender. 

But the scent of those roses was also poison to her already shattered and fragile heart, stirring feelings of love, tragedy, and unbearable loss. It whispered to her of all that had slipped through her fingers—moments, memories, and people—leaving only echoes behind, haunting reminders of what once was.

With trembling fingers, she opened the thick, luxurious stationery, her heart pounding in her chest as the elegant, unmistakably Russian handwriting greeted her. 

        Moya dorogaya Maryam,

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been far too long since we last exchanged words. For us, life continues as it always has, marked by the relentless rhythm of the seasons. The weather in Norfolk is, as usual, dull and gray, though I find it perfect for hunting.

Genevieve sends her warmest regards. She is beside me as I write, and she insists on saying hello to you, your siblings, and your dear aunts. You would be pleased to know that she's taken up gardening with a fervor, filling our home with blooms that remind us of you.

And then there's my son, Nikolai. You must have heard enough about him over the years, yet he's still full of surprises. He now resides in London with his wife, Elizaveta. The city feels far too chaotic and sprawling for my liking, but I suppose it keeps life interesting. Elizaveta is a force to be reckoned with, keeping Nikolai on his toes—she's a saint in that regard. You know how she is, always bustling about, ensuring everything is in order. She reminds me so much of you in that way, always juggling a million things at once.

But the reason I pen this letter today is to share wonderful news about my darling Annabelle. We are delighted to invite you and your family to her wedding, which will be held at the manor next summer. It promises to be an extravagant affair, filled with laughter and cherished memories.

I look forward to seeing you and your sisters there, my dear Maryam.

The letter was signed simply, A. Petrovich.

Uncle Andrei.

Maryam's chest tightened, a bittersweet mix of warmth and unease curling in her gut. It had been years—so many years that she could barely remember his face. She could still imagine her aunts and sisters gathering around once they heard, their voices dropping into whispers, each taking turns to inspect the red envelope. A letter from Andrei was like a rare comet passing through their lives, with everyone silently guessing what it meant.

Just as Maryam let out a breath, a hand clapped down on her shoulder, and she jolted, almost dropping the letter.

Standing there was Vera, her freckled face alight with a broad grin and her curls bouncing wildly. Vera—Vanessa to some, but always Vera to herself—was her vivacious neighbor, the type to walk into a conversation as easily as she walked into a room.

"Maryam!" Vera practically sang, her eyes immediately zoning in on the letter. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's the big secret, huh?"

Maryam gave a small, surprised laugh, forcing herself to keep her tone casual as she held the letter close to her chest. "It's... just a family letter," she replied.

"A family letter?" Vera's brows shot up, intrigued. She was practically craning her neck, unabashedly curious as she leaned in a little closer.

Maryam angled herself away instinctively, but Vera didn't miss a beat, lighting up with a new story. "Family's always so fun, don't you think? I had a cousin once—my mom's nephew, you know him, he always thought he'd marry this princess. Real princess, too, he'd tell everyone. Had the ring and all!" She chuckled, completely unfazed by her cousin's delusion. "Of course, that fell through. But he still brags about the ring. A little embarrassing, if you ask me."

Maryam chuckled, keeping her voice light. "Well, it's not that dramatic," she admitted, though she could feel the weight of her own family's secrets pulsing with quiet insistence under her hand. "Though... it does involve a wedding, actually."

Vera's face lit up with glee. "A wedding? That's serious business! Weddings have drama built in. Who's getting married? You have to tell me."

Maryam shrugged, feigning nonchalance as she folded the letter back up and slipped it into one of her grocery bags. "A cousin. It's all up in the air still, but you know how families get." She smiled, though her mind was already drifting back to her apartment, the quiet afternoon she had been dreaming of all day. But Vera wasn't one to let go easily.

As the doctor reached for her mailbox keys and snapped the small container shut, Vera stepped back, only to launch into her next request with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Hey, actually, speaking of tonight... I was thinking—well, my sister was thinking—you might want to come with us to the Iceberg Lounge?" She gave Maryam a hopeful, wide-eyed look.

Maryam stared, momentarily taken aback. The Iceberg Lounge? Again? She'd been there just last night, and Vera's sister wanted to go there on a date? The Lounge wasn't exactly a place for innocent fun—it was infamous for shady deals, underworld connections, and the kind of crowd that fed on Gotham's darkness.

"Me?" she blinked, genuine surprise flashing across her sharp features. "To the Lounge? Tonight?" Her instinct was to turn her down politely—she had her grocery bags, her cozy plans to nap, and now a letter that raised more questions than answers. 

The thought of squeezing into a dress, surrounded by the smell of cigars and overpriced drinks, made her stomach churn.

"Yes, you," Vera replied with a knowing look, as if she could sense her hesitation. "You're always so busy, Maryam! You need a night out. My sister's got a new boyfriend, and he's got us a VIP section. Don't you ever get tired of being all... mysterious?"

"Mysterious?" Maryam gave a wry laugh, arching a perfectly structured brow. "I'm a medical examiner, Vera, not a spy."

Vera rolled her eyes but grinned. "You say that, but I'm convinced you're hiding something." Then, softening, she added with a pleading look, "It's just... you're always in your own world, always busy with work, doing important things, and I thought, for once, you could just be a regular person with me. At a nice, safe VIP table."

VIP? Maryam almost laughed. 

The Lounge was no mystery to her—she'd spent enough nights there in the shadows, moving unseen as the Wraith, blending into the dark corners to extract secrets from the very people seated in those VIP sections. The irony of going as herself, with Vera, was surreal.

And she certainly wasn't thrilled about heading back to the Lounge so soon after last night's mission, but maybe a little distraction wouldn't be the worst thing...

Still, Maryam couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was going to be more complicated than Vera had planned. The Iceberg Lounge wasn't just any club—it was Gotham's underworld neatly packaged in a glamorous façade.

The shimmering lights, the velvet ropes, the thumping music—it all concealed the dangerous undercurrents that ran deep through the city's criminal heart. And after the chaos she'd dealt with as The Wraith, the last thing she needed was to wade back into that world, even if it was just for one night of "fun."

She much preferred the quiet safety of her apartment, the warmth of her cozy little space where she could shut out the noise of the city. A night in with a simple meal, maybe scrolling through her phone, or watching a nice movie sounded like heaven compared to the tension brewing inside her now.

The solitude was soothing, it was a stark contrast to the life she led outside those walls. 

No masks, no knives, no lies—just her.

Besides, the letter loomed in her mind, dredging up thoughts of family and old memories. She opened her mouth to turn Vera down when, with a dramatic sigh, Vera caught her hand and gave her best pleading look.

"Please, Maryam? I'll owe you forever. And you know I'm good for it. Anything you need."

Maryam sighed, her resistance slipping away, worn down by Vera's relentless enthusiasm. "Alright, alright, fine." She felt her shoulders relax, accepting the inevitable. "But just this once, okay?"

Vera squealed, throwing her arms around her in a hug so tight it almost lifted Maryam off her feet. "Oh, thank you, thank you! You have no idea, I'll never forget this!"

Maryam laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. But don't make a habit out of this, okay?" She gently disentangled herself from Vera's arms and shifted the grocery bags in her hands.

Vera released her with a beaming smile. "I swear, I won't! I'll knock on your door at nine, is that good?"

"Sure. That's good," Maryam replied, already mentally planning for the evening ahead.

With a final wave, Vera darted up the stairs, leaving Maryam to climb the narrow staircase alone, her footsteps echoing against the creaks and groans of the old building.

She reached her floor, hearing the muted sound of a TV playing somewhere down the hall and catching a faint whiff of someone's dinner cooking.

At her door, she fished out her keys, balancing the grocery bags in one arm as she struggled with the lock, which stuck like usual. She gave it a firm twist, and the door finally gave way with a soft bang, revealing her small, cluttered sanctuary.

She stepped inside and set her bags on the counter, letting out a long breath. Books and vinyl records were stacked in organized chaos, and a few plants perched on the windowsill looked as though they might have survived another week. Her cozy space, with its patchwork of comforting clutter, embraced her like an old friend.

Unpacking the groceries, she glanced out the window at the city below, stretching into the distance with its endless hum and flickering lights. There was something oddly comforting about its restless energy, a steady rhythm that matched the beat of her own mind.

And then her gaze drifted back to the bag on the counter—the letter, sitting there like an unanswered question, waiting for her to make sense of it. She stared at it for a long moment, as if something in its ink and paper might unlock memories she'd long since buried. Perhaps she hoped for a sign, some small word of warmth or recognition from the past. But the edges of the envelope remained silent and indifferent, like a distant relative with too many years between them.

Family. 

It could be a beautiful word, or it could be a curse and a mystery, veiled in secrets and memories that faded with time.

But for now, all she could do was grab a quick shower, take a small nap, and get ready. Whatever was waiting at the Lounge, she'd deal with it.

Just like she always did.

Cocktail dresses were not her forte.

Maryam stood in front of her open wardrobe, arms crossed, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she surveyed the options before her.

A frown creased her perfectly shaped brow.

Most of the outfits hanging neatly in her closet were better suited for formal events or professional settings. 

Nothing here screamed "night out at a club." She flicked through the hangers impatiently, pushing aside blouses, blazers, scrubs, and slacks that felt too restrained for the evening ahead.

Her bronze, sun-kissed skin seemed to glow in the dim light of her room, reflecting softly off the wardrobe mirror. It was a striking contrast to her usual dark attire.

With her athletic frame and graceful curves—sculpted by years of stealth training and night pursuits—she could make almost anything look good. But tonight, her frustration wasn't just about finding the right dress. It was about stepping out of her comfort zone, something she rarely allowed herself to do.

She huffed in exasperation, ready to give up, when something caught her eye—tucked away in the back, forgotten in the shuffle of daily life.

The doctor reached for it with a flicker of hope, pulling out a sleek black-and-gold cocktail dress she hadn't worn in years. She hadn't even remembered buying it, let alone why it had never seen the light of day.

The dress was perfect—elegant yet daring.

The bodice hugged her figure, the black fabric clinging to her like a second skin, with intricate, shimmering details tracing along the top like constellations scattered across a midnight sky. The skirt flared out slightly at the hips, a flirtatious golden shimmer running through the black fabric, the hem brushing just above her knees.

It was sexy, bold, and exactly the kind of confidence boost she needed for a night out.

She slipped it on, adjusting the straps until they rested perfectly against her shoulders. The fabric felt cool against her skin, accentuating every curve in just the right way. She turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress shimmered with every movement. It wasn't her usual style, but tonight she felt like embracing something different.

Satisfied with the dress, Maryam turned her attention to shoes. She owned only two pairs of heels—one for formal events and another for fun nights like this. She reached for the latter: black, strappy stilettos with a sharp heel and minimalist design.

They elevated her already long legs, making her stride look even more graceful. Sliding into them, she felt a surge of confidence wash over her.

Next came her hair and makeup.

Maryam stood in front of her bathroom mirror, a determined look in her eyes. Her naturally curly hair framed her face in wild, untamed waves, but tonight she wanted something different. She straightened it, adding volume and shine, before parting it to the left, creating a sleek, glamorous look that softened her sharp features.

Her makeup followed the same bold theme—sharp winged eyeliner, golden-white shimmer dusted across her eyelids, highlighting her bronzed skin.

The shimmering tones made her hazel eyes gleam under the bathroom lights, giving her an almost otherworldly glow. She finished with a classic red lip, a beautiful contrast against her warm complexion.

It was dramatic, intense, and undeniably stunning.

As Maryam stepped back to survey herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman looking back.

There was something raw and striking in her reflection—a beauty she'd never felt in quite this way before.

It reminded her of the journey she'd traveled, from a girl who hid behind masks, blending into shadows, to this version of herself.

Tonight, she wasn't hiding.

Every inch of her was polished to perfection, radiating a confidence she wasn't used to wearing.

A sharp knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts.

Vera.

Maryam took a deep breath, shaking off any lingering hesitation.

She'd committed to this night out, and for once, she intended to see it through. Opening the small black clutch on her vanity, she checked her essentials one last time: phone, keys, cigarettes, lighter, and—of course—her knives, hidden but always close.

She gave herself one final glance in the mirror before reaching for her black fur coat.

The soft fabric enveloped her in luxurious warmth, draping over her shoulders like a second skin. A few spritzes of her favorite perfume completed the transformation.

She was finally ready.

Another knock sounded, this time with an edge of impatience. "I'm coming!" Maryam called, voice laced with playful annoyance.

When she opened the door, Vera's jaw dropped in mock amazement. "Goddamn, Mar," she said, voice dripping with admiration. "You outdid yourself tonight. You look hot as hell, bitch."

Maryam smirked, rolling her eyes. "Shut up," she replied, though a small smile hinted at her amusement.

"Girl, please," Vera laughed, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. "You know you do."

Vanessa looked stunning herself. Her curls framed her face perfectly, and her smoky eye makeup made her doe eyes pop under the hallway's dim light. The glossy pink of her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she adjusted the hem of her flirty pink dress.

Together, they headed down the stairs, the steady clack of their heels echoing through the stairwell. In the lobby, they were greeted by the raspy voice of Gary, the elderly doorman who was practically a fixture in the building. Perched in his beat-up plastic chair with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he was Gotham's unofficial neighborhood watch, offering his unsolicited judgments on all who passed by.

As Maryam approached, his eyes widened in a rare show of interest. "Well, what a fucking doll you are tonight," he whistled, his gravelly voice almost amused.

Maryam resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gary's crudeness was as predictable as his smoking habit, yet tonight his offhand compliment was oddly amusing. Maybe it was the dress, or maybe it was the thrill of being noticed.

"Thanks, Gary," she replied smoothly, brushing past him and leaving him to his cloud of smoke and judgments.

Vera received her own whistle from Gary as she passed, and the girls shared a knowing glance, shaking their heads with small, amused smiles.

Once settled in the plush seat of Vera's car, Maryam closed the door with a soft click behind her. Inside, the warmth of the car cocooned her, a comforting contrast to the night air outside. The low hum of the engine buzzed beneath her, a subtle reminder that the night had only just begun.

As they sped down the street, Maryam adjusted her fur coat, savoring its luxurious softness as it settled over her shoulders.

Underneath, she could feel the familiar weight of her concealed knives—a constant reminder of the life she balanced, between shadows and moments of normalcy like this. No matter how glamorous the night, she never left without them.

Vera glanced over, her approving smirk still firmly in place. "You really clean up nice, you know that? It's a shame you don't go out more often. You could have half the city eating out of your hand if you wanted."

Maryam chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Not really my style, and you know it."

Vera sighed dramatically, keeping one hand on the wheel as she merged onto the main road. "Yeah, yeah. But once in a while, it's good to let loose. You need it more than anyone I know."

Maryam didn't argue. Vera had a point. Between her demanding job as a medical examiner and her life as The Wraith, nights like this were rare. These were the moments when she could set everything aside, even if just for a few hours—pretend to be someone else, someone who didn't carry the weight of secrets and shadows.

The city lights blurred together outside her window, the familiar skyline casting Gotham's silhouette against the inky night. She stared out for a moment, lost in thought, until a question suddenly popped into her head. "Wait, are your sister and her boyfriend not joining us?"

"Oh, they're already there, waiting for us at the lounge," Vera replied, a mischievous grin creeping onto her lips. "Alessandro—my sister's boyfriend—he's the one who pulled some strings. Got us a VIP table and everything!" She wiggled her eyebrows, barely containing her excitement.

Maryam's stomach tightened. Alessandro. She had a sinking feeling about this.

"Please don't tell me it's... that underground club," she muttered, hoping her guess was wrong.

The club within the club, a hidden world where Gotham's elite gathered in secrecy. She knew it well—not as Maryam, but as The Wraith. Just last night, she'd prowled those rooms, cloaked in darkness, gathering intel. Tonight? Tonight, she was bare, unarmed in more ways than one.

Vera, oblivious to Maryam's inner turmoil, shrugged with an innocent smile. "What? I mean, I wouldn't really know. I just know it's fancy." She smirked, eyes gleaming.

Maryam let out a small, forced laugh. "Fancy, huh?"

Her grip tightened on her clutch, knuckles whitening. She knew Vera meant well, but she didn't understand. Gotham's elite didn't play by the same rules. And here, where secrets were currency, and favors held more value than gold, the stakes were high.

Even now, beneath her glamorous exterior, she felt the weight of her hidden knives pressing against her skin, a reminder that she could never fully let her guard down. Not here.

Vera chatted away as they approached the club, her excitement palpable. "So, his name's Alessandro, but before you say anything, I know he's... well, shady." She added quickly, "But my sister likes him. It's only been a week, so it's not serious."

Maryam sighed. "Italian charmers. Always the same," she muttered with a smirk.

"They're not all bad," Vera replied defensively, though she shot Maryam a knowing smile. "Look, I know you have your... concerns. But tonight, I just want you to have fun. We'll stay as long as you're comfortable, and if you need an out, just say the word."

"Thank you," Maryam murmured, squeezing her friend's shoulder. Then, in a lighter tone, she added, "Just... don't lose me in there, okay?"

They pulled up to the Iceberg Lounge, where the crowd buzzed with energy, eager to dive into Gotham's nightlife. Vera led the way, navigating through the throngs with practiced ease, flashing a confident smile as they sidestepped the velvet ropes.

But then she saw them.

The Twins—Boris and Maksim, towering sentinels of the Lounge.

Maryam's stomach twisted at the sight of them. Known for their brutal efficiency, they were gatekeepers of Gotham's underworld, faces cold and calculating. She often referred to them as the Evil Twins, a joke that hid the truth. They knew her as The Wraith, but as Maryam, she was just another face.

The weight of their scrutiny pressed down on her, quickening her pulse. She forced herself to breathe steadily, feeling the cold steel of her knives, their presence reassuring in the midst of this familiar, dangerous world.

"Relax," Vera whispered, catching the tension in her friend's jaw as they neared the entrance. "It's just a night out. No one's gonna bother you here."

Maryam forced a tight smile. "Yeah," she murmured, exhaling slowly. "Just a night out."

 As they stepped into the underground club, the deep, rhythmic pulse of music filled the air, vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. 

It was the same as she stepped as the wraith the other night, the lights inside were dim, casting a moody glow over the lavish interior of the Iceberg Lounge. 

Everything felt luxurious and dangerous at the same time—Gotham's elite brushed shoulders with the shadows, a mix of power and menace lingering in every corner.

Maryam let her eyes adjust to the low light, clutching her fur, taking in the sprawling dance floor and the glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. 

The bar was packed, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and alcohol. She felt Vera grab her arm, pulling her closer as they navigated through the crowd.

"See? Not so bad," Vanessa said, her voice just audible over the pounding bass. "Just some little fun."

Maryam forced a smile, nodding, but her eyes were scanning the room. 

Even if she wasn't The Wraith tonight, her instincts were hard to turn off. Every flicker of movement caught her attention, every unfamiliar face was logged in her mind. Old habits. She had worked too long in Gotham's underbelly to let her guard down.

They made their way up the stairs to the VIP section, a private area where Vera's sister and her boyfriend were waiting. The music quieted slightly as they reached the upper level, the noise of the main club below muffled by thick glass windows. 

Alessandro stood as they approached, his charming smile disarming yet slightly unsettling. He was tall and impeccably dressed, exuding a confidence that whispered of wealth and power. Maryam returned his smile with a polite nod, but an instinctive shiver ran down her spine. There was something about him—a magnetic charm that felt dangerously close to predatory.

"Hey, guys!" Vera called out, her voice bright with excitement as she spotted the couple lounging on the plush, red cushions.

"Look who finally decided to join the living," Alessandro teased, a smirk tugging at his lips, wavering somewhere between playful and condescending. Vera's excitement was evident in the way she beamed at him, but Maryam felt a gnawing apprehension in her stomach.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies," he added, his voice smooth as the whiskey he was swirling in his glass.

Constance—Connie—Vera's older sister, gave him a sharp glance, her protective instincts flaring for a moment before she took control of the situation. "Alessandro, play nice. This is their first night out in ages. Well, for Maryam at least," she smirked, casting a look at her sister.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Vera replied, putting on an exaggeratedly offended look.

Maryam carefully settled into the cushioned seat, her body tense, her legs crossed tightly. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the mounting anxiety that threatened to engulf her.

Meanwhile, Maryam eased herself down into the seat, carefully, as if a single wrong move would shatter her poise. She held her fur coat in front of her, clutching it like a shield against the creeping anxiety gnawing at her. Her legs crossed tightly, her posture conveying both elegance and guardedness.

Alessandro raised his glass, glancing over with a lazy smirk. "Relax, everyone. It's just a night out," he said, his voice light, though his gaze was anything but. Despite the casual words, something in his tone hinted at layers that went deeper than his outward charm.

Vera gave a bright smile and introduced the couple. "This is my sister, Connie, and her boyfriend, Alex," she said, dropping her clutch on the table with a little flourish. "I'll grab us some drinks—be right back."

Maryam narrowed her hazel eyes, a flicker of discomfort rippling through her. Why had she left her alone with strangers?

Connie, who had been quietly observing Maryam, spoke up over the thumping bass of the music. "So you're a medical examiner?"

Maryam tried to play it cool, though unease curled in her stomach like a snake. "Yes," she replied, offering a small smile that felt more like a mask than genuine warmth.

"By the way, I love your dress and makeup!" Connie exclaimed, her tone warm and genuine, her eyes lighting up as she admired Maryam's outfit. "You look absolutely stunning!"

Maryam had put effort into her appearance tonight, hoping it would boost her confidence, though the tension knotting her stomach threatened to dampen her excitement.

"Thanks," Maryam replied, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks at the compliment. "You look amazing too! That blue is perfect on you!"

Constance only smiled and flocked her hair behind her shoulder.

Alessandro leaned back, loosening the buttons of his shirt, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't want a drink?"

"Hm, I actually don't drink. I just came here with Vera to keep her company." 

"That's sweet of you," Connie remarked, fidgeting with her nails as if they were a distraction from the atmosphere. "If you ever want to leave, don't hesitate."

Why did they keep repeating that?

"Yeah, Vanessa told me. But I don't really want to leave her alone."

"She's safe with me, don't worry," Connie tried to reassured her.

Maryam only nodded, the awkward silence settling over them like a heavy blanket. She could feel their eyes on her, studying her, dissecting her with their gaze. She pretended to observe the club around them, feigning disinterest, but her mind was racing. 

Her eyes flicked toward groups of people huddled at tables, the glow of the lights revealing a few familiar faces—Gil Couson, the District Attorney. It wasn't surprising; she'd seen plenty of DA's and GCPD officials frequent this place when she operated as The Wraith.

When she looked back at her table, she found Alessandro and Connie already watching her, their expressions unreadable. Clearing her throat to break the tension, Maryam attempted to steer the conversation. "So, what do you guys do for a living?"

"Well, I work in a bank, assistant." Connies says, taking a sip from the martini that had just been set on the table.

"Oh yeah, Vera mentioned it," Maryam replied, forcing a light tone. "And you?" She directed her question toward Alessandro, her curiosity piqued despite herself, even if she already had an inkling of who he really was.

"Business," he answered simply, his gaze unwavering, a slight edge to his voice that made Maryam's heart race.

She nodded, the conversation dwindling into an uncomfortable silence. Vera still hadn't returned, and the weight of the atmosphere pressed down on her.

Just then, a group of men entered the table, speaking rapid-fire Italian, their presence commanding and decidedly more dangerous. One of them shot Maryam a wink as they settled in, launching into a hushed conversation that felt too secretive, too conspiratorial. 

Sensing the tension, she leaned closer to Connie. "I'm going to grab some water."

Connie only nodded, still sipping on her martini.

Maryam stood and made her way toward the bar, navigating through the throngs of people, each lost in their own world of revelry and distraction. 

As she walked, she collided with a woman sporting a striking red wig. "Oh shit—I'm so sorry!" Maryam blurted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stepped back.

"No, it's me," the woman replied, thena furrow of confusion knitting her brows as she studied Maryam.

Maryam offered an awkward smile, the unease creeping back into her veins as she continued toward the bar, the vibrant chaos of the club swirling around her. 

She felt like an outsider, a ghost among the living, and as she reached for a glass of water, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched—by both friends and foes alike.

The doctor took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she finally reached the bar. The pulsating beat of the club made her head throb faintly, and she felt the weight of dozens of eyes on her. But maybe it was just her own nerves amplifying everything. She focused on the bartender, who was busy sliding colorful cocktails across the counter to eager hands.

"Just water, please," she said, her voice barely carrying above the music. The bartender nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly before he turned to get her drink.

As she waited, Maryam forced herself to take in the room, hoping it might somehow ease the chill that crept up her spine.

But her gaze snagged on a familiar face: the red-haired woman sitting with none other than Gotham’s district attorney, Gil Coulson.

Married, with kids, yet here he was, leaning in close, as if he had no reputation to keep up—or maybe just didn’t care anymore.

She almost laughed at the irony.

Of course Coulson would show up somewhere like this, where drops flowed and morals faded.

Then her eyes drifted back to Alessandro.

He sat surrounded by his group, that same unreadable expression fixed on her. Even when he rose to speak to someone across the room, his gaze didn’t waver, didn’t stray from her for an instant, as though he were studying her, waiting.

She looked away, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to steady her breath, to shake off the feeling that she’d made a grave mistake.

She shouldn’t have come here, not tonight, not so exposed, not with eyes watching her from every corner.

“First time out in a while?” The bartender’s voice pulled her back to the present as he handed her the glass of water.

She managed a small smile. “That obvious?”

He shrugged with a sympathetic smile of his own. “Just a guess.”

A low, gravelly voice cut in, intruding on the exchange. “Rough night, huh?”

She turned, immediately regretting it.

Leaning casually beside her was a man with dark eyes and a teasing smirk, a jagged scar cutting across his brow.

Matteo—Vittorio's bodyguard.

Shit. How was he still standing after the beating she'd given him yesterday? Her gaze dropped to his leg, where a cane was propped against him. Well, maybe not entirely.

He held a cocktail, studying her like she was prey he’d patiently been waiting to pounce on. She kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him even a hint of reaction.

“Something like that,” she replied, voice steady but gaze guarded. Small talk wasn’t on her agenda, especially not here, and especially not with someone like him.

Matteo let out a rough chuckle, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Well, don’t let the night swallow you up, ghost girl.”

The nickname struck her like a strange jolt, stirring something cold and uneasy in her gut, but she masked it with a polite, dismissive smile.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” she said coolly, turning back to her drink, hoping that was the end of it.

Matteo lingered just a second longer, his gaze trailing over her like he had every right.

But then, as if summoned, he turned abruptly toward a group across the room—one that included Alessandro. Her stomach tightened. 

Of course. 

So her suspicions were right; Alessandro was working with the Falcones.

She watched him slip through the crowd, blending in with the familiar ease of someone who’d spent too long in the shadows.

The unease she’d felt before coiled tighter, sharper, her pulse hammering.

There was no coincidence here, not with the way Alessandro caught her eye, his lips quirking in a faint, knowing smirk.

It wasn’t just some off-chance meeting.

They were watching her—had been all night, it seemed.

A chill crept through her, settling in her bones like ice. She’d been careful, blending into the crowd, slipping through unnoticed—or so she’d thought.

But every look, every sideways glance she hadn’t caught, now felt like an unseen thread tightening around her.

Her grip on the glass tightened, the cold condensation seeping into her skin. She felt exposed, out of place, like prey unknowingly lured into a trap. 

She had to keep control, play her part, if only until she could slip away unnoticed.

But she needed to go. Now.

Maryam casually placed her glass on the bar, hoping her fingers weren’t visibly trembling.

With a practiced smile, she nodded at the bartender, as if all was well, as if the weight of prying eyes didn’t press down on her shoulders.

When she finally left the bar, the medical examiner wove her way back toward their table.

Her eyes scanned the dim, crowded space until they landed on Alessandro, still watching her with a lazy smirk, his gaze assessing, as if he'd caught every detail of her evening.

The doctor fought the urge to roll her eyes, sighing inwardly as she continued walking. Her fur coat felt weightier now, almost like armor against the scrutiny of the room.

Back at their table, she found Connie sitting alone, a bit annoyed but glued to her phone. "Hey," Maryam said softly, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Hey," Connie murmured, barely looking up before flicking her eyes back to the screen. The flashing lights cast a colorful glow on her face as she scrolled.

Maryam hesitated. "I haven't found Vera anywhere, and... I'm exhausted. Tomorrow's kind of a big day for me. I think I'm gonna head out."

Connie's gaze remained fixated on her phone. "Yeah, sure. Go home if you want. Not like you have to stay just because Vera's here," she replied dismissively, her fingers continuing to tap rapidly on the screen.

"You sure? I don't mind sticking around a bit longer. I just don't want to leave Vera stranded."

Connie finally glanced up, a flicker of understanding crossing her features. "Look, Maryam. It’s ok, go. She's fine. She'll go home with me when we're done here. Just don't worry about it." She gestured vaguely to the edge of the dance floor, where Vera stood close to a tall guy with tousled hair, laughing as he leaned down to say something in her ear. "See? She's busy."

Maryam smiled faintly. "Alright, if you're sure. I don't want to be rude."

Connie sighed, rolling her eyes as she returned to her phone. "Honestly, it's better for you. This place isn't really your scene anyway. You'll be bored out of your mind."

"Guilty," Maryam falsely admitted, forcing herself. "It's just... not really my thing. I've got a long day tomorrow too."

"Right, the mayor's funeral." Connie didn't look up, still focused on her screen. "You should definitely go home then."

"Thanks, Connie. I appreciate it." Maryam gathered her things, glancing once more at the buzzing club before standing up. She offered Connie a warm smile. "Thanks for having me. I hope you two have fun."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Connie barely looked up from her phone, her tone dismissive as she continued scrolling. "Safe travels! Just text Vera if you need her."

Maryam could sense the irritation radiating from her. With a grateful nod, she turned and made her way toward the exit.

As she slipped through the crowd, she pulled out her phone, shooting Vera a quick text to check in: 

Heading home. Hope you're having fun. Stay safe !! <3.

With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of the club and into the cold night air. 

Lighting a cigarette, she took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, and began to walk down the street in search of a cab.

The click-clack of her high heels echoed against the pavement, each step a reminder of how out of place she felt.

Clutching her fur coat tighter around her shoulders, she let her thoughts drift, allowing the city's vibrant nightlife to fade into the background.

Suddenly, without warning, a gloved hand gripped her arm and yanked her into a dark alley.

Panic surged through her as she yelled, the sound swallowed by the night, but before she could draw a breath or take one of her hidden knives, a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.

“What the hell?!” she muttered against his hand, her voice muffled but furious. Without a second thought, she bit down hard, forcing him to pull his gloved hand back. Taking advantage of the moment, she shoved against his solid chest, trying to free herself from his grip.

"What were you doing in the 44 Below?" he only replied, his voice low and gravelly, darkened eyes with charcoal around it narrowing as he studied her, assessing the confusion etched on her face. 

"Are you stalking me, you fucking creep?" she shot back, her heart racing.

She fought to regain her composure, her breath coming in shaky gasps, visible in the frigid air around them. With a quick movement, she pushed the stray strands of hair away from her mouth and eyes, trying to clear her vision and steady herself.

"I saw you there," he said simply, his mask obscuring most of his face.

"How?" she demanded, her tone sharp, but he ignored her question, his gaze unwavering.

"What were you doing there, Maryam? Are you tangled up with Carmine Falcone's corrupt bunch?" His words were sharp, each one dripping with suspicion as he stepped closer, invading her personal space.

Instead of answering, she lashed out, slapping him hard across the cheek. The sound echoed in the quiet alley, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, turning his head slightly as if her strike had genuinely stung.

"Fuck you. No, I was here because a friend invited me! I didn’t even know we were going down there!" she snapped, her anger simmering just below the surface. "I didn’t stay long, anyway."

Turning on her heel, she started to head back toward the street, desperate to escape the confrontation.

But as she did, her ankle twisted awkwardly, sending her crashing to her knees on the unforgiving pavement. A sharp wince escaped her lips as pain shot through her. What a stupid move, Maryam. Bravo. The bitter thought lingered in her mind.

He was at her side in an instant, concern etched into his masked features.

"Leave me alone," she muttered, trying to wave him off, but he shook his head, his voice firm. "You need to sit still."

"I can and I will, Zorro." she insisted, her pride flaring. 

But he didn't listen. 

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, her surprise morphing into indignation as she yelped. "What the hell are you doing? Oh my god--"

"You can't walk like that," he reiterated, his tone brokering no argument.

"I can manage!" she protested, but her struggles were futile against his strength. 

He carried her with no problem as if she weighted nothing, toward a mid-engined muscle car, sleek black and big car parked nearby, opening the door to the passenger seat.

"Hey—" she began to protest, but he cut her off, locking the door with a swift click before sliding into the driver's seat.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, a hint of panic threading through her voice.

"Your apartment," he replied, the engine roaring to life as he pulled away from the curb.

Maryam stared at him, a mix of anger and bewilderment coursing through her. She had never asked for this—for him to step in as her protector.

Her gaze drifted over the car's interior, buttons gleaming everywhere, with only two seats and a large motor behind them.

It looked as if he had built it himself.

Absentmindedly, she reached out to touch one of the buttons, intrigued by the craftsmanship.

"You shouldn't touch that," he warned, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"Sorry," she murmured, quickly retracting her hand and crossing her arms, pulling her fur coat tighter as she turned to stare out the window.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the steady hum of the engine and the faint squeak of his leather gloves on the wheel. 

When she glanced at the vigilante, his jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet hers—as if he was deliberately avoiding her. 

She furrowed her brows, puzzled by his cold distance. 

Who was she kidding? They barely knew each other; of course he would act like that. The way he kept his emotions under wraps, as if they were a dangerous secret

He didn’t respond, just continued to drive with that inscrutable expression.

It infuriated her further to no end.

Did he think she was weak? Did he believe she couldn’t handle herself?

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

"So this is how it's going to be?" she finally asked, her voice low but edged with annoyance. "You play the hero, drag me into this mess, and now you're just going to ignore me?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. The city lights flickered across his face, casting sharp shadows that only made him more unreadable.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. "I didn't drag you into anything," his tone was controlled, but there was something darker beneath it. "You were already in it. I'm just making sure you stay alive."

Maryam scoffed, shaking her head. "I never asked for your help. I don't even know you. You're the one who keeps showing up out of nowhere," she said, her hands gesturing animatedly as she threw him a sharp glare.

She cursed under her breath in Arabic. "I can handle myself just fine."

The tension in the car was suffocating, thick enough to cut with a knife. Maryam shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her mind a storm of unspoken thoughts. Being this close to him was unsettling, and the fact that he was shutting her out now only stoked her frustration.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the tension in his sharp jaw making every muscle stand out. 

Maryam's eyes flickered to the small cut on his face—her cut, the one she'd given him without realizing the night The Wraith clashed with the Bat. His cheek was still red from where she'd slapped him earlier. 

Guilt tugged at her, but only for a moment. He had underestimated her, after all, and maybe this was his karma. The leather creaked under his hands as he snapped, "Handling yourself almost got you killed tonight."

His words hung heavy in the air as he glanced at her, his gaze hard as they stopped at a red light.

"Killed?" Maryam shot back, her voice rising in disbelief. "What are you even talking about? I was literally minding my own business, smoking a cigarette, and you dragged me into that alley! If anything, I should call the cops on you for kidnapping!" She jabbed her finger toward his face, anger sparking in her eyes, her pulse quickening with frustration.

He didn't flinch, but his gaze darkened. "It's Gotham. It's dangerous anytime, especially for a woman at night."

The words hit her harder than she expected. 

For a moment, the car was filled with nothing but silence, the engine's low hum the only sound between them. Maryam swallowed the knot in her throat, her chest tight. 

There was truth in his words, but the way he said it—like she was some helpless victim—ignited a fire in her. She wasn't just another woman in Gotham, and she sure as hell didn't need his protection.

But despite the anger simmering inside her, the weight of the night and his warnings pressed down on her like a cold, heavy blanket. 

She turned her gaze out the window, unwilling to let him see just how much his words had stung.

Because unfortunately, he was right.

"It's doctor to you," Maryam snapped back, her voice sharp. "And why do you care so much about what happens to me?"

He didn't respond immediately. 

The low hum of the engine filled the silence, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer at all. 

But then, in that deep, controlled voice of his, he said, "You're valuable."

Her stomach twisted. 

Valuable? That was it? 

That was his reason for constantly showing up? For interfering in her life? A mixture of hurt and anger rose in her chest, so intense it was almost frightening. He infuriated her in ways no one else ever had.

She stared at him, catching the familiar clench of his jaw. "Right," she said, trying to sound unaffected. "Lovely to hear," she added with a biting edge to her voice.

His gaze flickered, perhaps noticing her frustration, but he stayed silent, stoic as ever.

"That's all I am to you, then? Valuable?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet trembling with the weight of withheld anger. She spoke as if to herself, words slipping out like secrets she could no longer bear to keep. "Just some asset to monitor, a liability to contain—like a ticking bomb?"

She didn't stop, didn’t give him a chance to answer, and he could feel the words catch in his throat, unspoken, the retort he might have given already hollow. Her voice held a rawness, an unfiltered pain that made his chest constrict, and he hated the way it cut through him, so exposed and honest.

"I’m not just valuable, Bruce. I’m a person. I bleed, I break. And you… you can’t just—" Her words wavered, her voice splintering as she tried to find the right thing to say, to capture the truth of how much his detachment wounded her. "You can’t just treat me like I’m another cog in your mission, something to be controlled and used when convenient."

He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, tension flickering across his face as he fought to hold his composure. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice taut, controlled.

"Oh, please," she shot back, folding her arms as if to shield herself from the hurt that pooled in her chest. Her tone was bitter, tired. "If you’re going to keep manipulating me, following me, then at least be honest about it. Don’t pretend it’s for my sake."

"I'm not here to manipulate you," he shot back, his tone sharp and cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Then what are you here for?" she challenged, fully aware she was being infuriating, but it felt like a necessary pushback. "Because from where I'm sitting, all you've done is make my life infinitely more complicated." She laughed bitterly, the sound laced with frustration. "Do you think I wanted any of this? You just show up, decide what's best for me, and vanish like—like I'm supposed to be grateful!"

His gaze stayed steady, unwavering, the shadows in the alley accentuating the angles of his face. "You're not just in danger, Maryam. You are the danger. To yourself, to others. If you get caught up in this without knowing what you're dealing with, you'll be—"

"Collateral damage?" she interrupted, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Another loose end for you to tie up? Don't you dare stand there and pretend this is just about keeping me safe."

She jabbed a sharp finger toward him, her frustration palpable. "You just don't want anyone interfering with your plans. Isn't that right hm?"

"Believe what you want," he replied, his voice hard, but she could sense a tremor beneath it. "But if you understood what's out there, you wouldn't be asking for independence. You'd be begging for protection."

Her eyes blazed with anger as she held his gaze, feeling the weight of every word. "I. don't. need. protection. And certainly not yours. I'm capable of making my own choices, even if they aren't the right ones."

"Then those choices are going to get you killed," he replied, blunt and unyielding. But his voice was different this time, the edges frayed, his words dropping into something raw, almost desperate. "And you have no idea what that would mean—for the people you'd leave behind."

What?

Her breath caught, her anger stumbling as the confusion washed over her. What did he mean?

He was so confusing, so closed off, it hurt.

She opened her mouth to respond, to demand an explanation, but the words vanished in the hollow space between them.

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe ?—crossed her face as she saw him, just for a moment, slip. She'd never expected to see even a crack in that armor.

The silence stretched, taut as a wire, until they pulled near the Narrows, the streets narrowing and darkening around them.

He eased the car to a stop in an alleyway by her apartment, and the tension between them was so thick it seemed to vibrate, settling like a weight on her shoulders.

"Thanks," she muttered, barely meaning it, as she reached for the door handle. The bitter night air struck her as soon as it cracked open, a jolt of cold that only intensified the aching in her chest, the emptiness his words left behind.

The chill bit into her skin as her feet touched the pavement, and she welcomed it—a reminder that, at least, her night was ending. She was just about to pull her hand free, to escape back into her own world, when she felt his hand close around hers, firm and unyielding.

Startled, she looked back, but he didn't meet her gaze, his expression hidden in the shadows. He pressed something into her palm—a small device, cool and solid in her hand.

"For emergencies," he murmured, his voice low and final.

She looked down at the device, feeling the cool weight of it settle into her palm, a tangible reminder that, despite everything, he'd bound her to him yet again.

It was a lifeline, but one she hadn't asked for—a link to him she didn't know how to sever, even if she wanted to. Anger and confusion swirled within her, pressing up against her resolve. 

Part of her wanted to throw it back, to end whatever twisted bond he kept tethering her to. 

But her fingers only tightened around it, a reluctant acceptance she despised herself for.

"Right," she said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the silence. "Because I'm 'valuable.'"

He was so still, so unyielding, but the shadows softened just enough for her to catch something in his expression—a flicker of hesitation, a crack in his perfect, unreadable mask. 

The cold barrier he wore around himself seemed to shift, and she could almost feel something between them, a weight heavy with unspoken things, words neither of them could say.

Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, she almost believed he would answer her. But the flicker passed, buried beneath the steel of his gaze, the armor snapping back into place. 

He was the Bat once more—untouchable, unreachable.

"Stay safe," he said finally, his tone curt, though beneath it, that rawness lingered, faint but unmistakable.

She swallowed hard, her chest tight, and managed a small nod. Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "Be careful."

His gaze shifted, just a flicker, but enough to show her words had once again slipped past his defenses. Somehow, it was her specialty with him—finding those hidden, vulnerable places beneath his armor, stirring something in him he'd long thought dead. 

It was as if she could reach the parts of him he'd buried, unsettling that stone-cold heart he swore no one could touch.

Without another word, she turned, stepped out, and closed the door, her fingers lingering on the handle for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, she stepped away, her legs carrying her quickly toward her building.

She didn't look back, didn't trust herself to. 

The door to her apartment closed behind her, but she could still feel his presence, the memory of that unsaid moment like an ache in her chest.

Outside, the Batmobile remained in the shadows, unmoving, a silent sentinel. His silent presence lingering like a ghost in the shadows, unwilling to let her go but never willing to let her stay.

It didn't pull away until her apartment light finally flickered on, and even then, the empty space it left felt far too heavy.

previous chapter | next chapter

Didn’t edit the chapter yet…. sooooo sorry for any mistakes ;)

btw this is the outfit & make up/hair I had in mind while writing the chapter— if anyone’s interested ofc (lol) :

…don’t hesitate to drop a comment tho !! xxx

[procyonloser]

Pt 4

"Papa, I wanna go see animals again..." Charlie told him, poking around at the smiley face on her omelet. Lucifer paused from sipping his herbal tea, to look at her in excitement; sure, they'd just gone last weekend, but Lucifer was more than ready to go back to the aquarium again. More than ready to see someone again.

"Sure, sweetie, we can go to the aquarium." Lucifer beamed at her, holding up an orange slice off his plate to make a fake smile in front of his face. Charlie giggled, but she was already getting to that age where she was laughing because he was being silly, not because she found it actually funny.

"No, I want to go to the zoo!" Charlie said with a big grin, unaware that she made Lucifer's heart plunge slightly.

"Oh. Yeah, uh, of course! That'll be fun too." Lucifer answered, faking his enthusiasm. Maybe he shouldn't be this hard up for a guy he'd barely spoken to, especially since the man's job was to interact with aquarium goers. But, he felt like they had... you know, a little spark.

The local zoo was bigger than the aquarium, they lived in a big city, and it got a lot of traffic. Not a ton at 2pm on a Tuesday during the school year, but enough other people were around that they didn't feel alone. They wove through the zoo, until they reached an amphitheatre in the kid's area. It looked like a show was about to start, and Lucifer was getting tired after so much walking and pulling the wagon along with him.

"Hey, Charlie, let's watch the show! That'll be fun, won't it? They'll probably have animals come out!" Lucifer said, trying to encourage his daughter, who thought about it, before nodding and running down the steps at a speed that legitimately worried him that she could fall - then again, he'd seen Charlie jump on a trampoline, launch herself into the side of the house, then get back up laughing.

They found a seat up near the front with a few other parents and kids, including one peacefully sleeping baby in one woman's arms. Lucifer smiled at the infant, wistfully missing those days - just not the diaper duty.

Suddenly fog blasted out of the stage, and confetti cannons went off, promptly scaring the baby into a fit of screaming. Music began to play, and an announcers voice came flooding around them from large speakers.

"Hello, hello, hello and welcome to The Garden! We're going to introduce you to some totally awesome creatures, and some spooky ones too! So, I want every boy, girl, and squirrel, to pop on their adventurer hat and come with me on trip across the wild world!" A tall figure emerged from the fog, clearly wearing an Indiana Jones type hat. Charlie was slack jawed and mystified by what was going on, which was enough of a distraction that Lucifer didn't stop to think the man sounded familiar.

"My name is Captain Adam, and my partner here is Lieutenant Lute!"

Lucifer's head snapped back to the stage, stunned to see Adam, his Adam (his Adam?), walk out from the fog, and out onto the main stage. Their eyes met briefly, and Adam raised an amused eyebrow at him, but he clearly had other concerns - Adam had a full ass eagle on his arm. Then he noticed the pretty, yet very serious looking, girl walk out on stage beside Adam in khaki shorts and a bandana on her head. She was holding an owl, that was looking around curiously at the audience.

Charlie bounced in her seat, clearly recognizing Adam from the aquarium, and looking at Lucifer excitedly. "Look, look! Papa!"

"I see, sweetie." Lucifer said with a nervous laugh. God, Adam was going to think he was a stalker.

"For the beginning of our show, I'm going to need a volunteer from the audience." Adam said, a microphone clipped onto his khaki shirt. "How about you? The short blond man in the audience, who looks like he has a fondness for Clownfish. Come on up to the stage." Adam sent him a come hither motion, which did things to him emotionally.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Lucifer turned beet red.

What had he gotten himself into?

[im-no-jedi]

I’ve begun the process of customizing the doll bae, so this’ll be the official progress thread of his modifications✨

here’s what he looked like to start:

thankfully I don’t have to do much with his hair other than cutting and styling it, which is what I’ve done today. I’m always nervous cutting doll hair cause I’ve ruined so many of them in the past 😅

I thought about layering his hair a bit, but I’m not practiced enough with that, so it’s just gonna stay one length. I can layer it later if I want to. the most important thing is the front of his hair, which is pretty choppy. I’m sectioning each portion for trimming, and uhh this is what he looks like LOL:

he’s not having much fun 😂

honestly, this part wasn’t much fun for me either cause I have to use gel to keep the different portions separate, and hair gel is quite sticky so yeah 😬 full styling will take some time since I have to wait for the gel to dry, but the initial cut and style for his hair is basically done! here’s the result:

I’m not sure yet how I’m gonna get the little danglies to stay down, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out 😋

bonus pic of mini me giving him some company while waiting for his hair to dry (and holding onto his shirt for him 😉):

yes I am wearing the pants he came with. don’t act surprised 😝

time to make his bandana!✨

[m-musings]

Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

[ray-is-they]

WEDDING AU! SPICYNOODLES!

[I love them both and I'll try my best to explain whats in it from this au]

This whole au lore is gonna take longer than you expect so try well- take notes or try not to get your eyes sore while reading-

Let's talk about:

Designs:

REDSON- So in that wedding- Redson wears a dress and that necklace she's wearing is his mother's ancestory necklace that was passed down on every person that is getting married.

The dress is color white [theres also shades of red ofcourse]

Mei is the one who braided redson's hair

There is a wedding ring from redson's left hand ring finger (not entirely shown because they have ofc lego hands.)

MK- wears a suit that has the color of black

That bandana's design- instead of red from pigsys he's having the color of orange and the two trail colors of green and red that symbolizes the traffic light trio which is mei and redson-

The flower ring he's wearing at his right hand middle finger is mei's promise. It's the promise they both kept about sticking to each other even if they are faraway.

The left hand from him is the wedding ring and the other ring Redson gave him as proposal.

JUST A LITTLE BACKSTORY: The Engagement ring was spoiled from a demon attack that yin and jin have been messing with them. The engagement ring is shown after the box flew off redson's pocket, when Mk saw the box he came into a big realisation that the whole date that was set up was for redson to propose to him.

But now it was accidentally spoiled and ruined redson's whole plan and it made them very upset to the point they almost got out of control with their own power.

When Yin and Jin apologized, Mk let redson propose properly since a while ago was an accident- Mei had to take care of yin and jin (not harmful way she just- took them out on like a snack and released em-) yin and jin had NO idea that redson was planning this.

(Mei talked out the stuff about this to yin and jin to make it clear)

MEI- Mei is known in the wedding as the 'best woman/man' one of those groom's right hand

Her bun tied hair has a trail of red that is aka Redson's color

And on her front bangs were mk's that are orange

At the back of her hair on lose it's supposed to be purple because it's macaque's since he and Mei bonded together like uncle and niece- but i lost my purple marker right there- the earrings designed that were supposed to be green- it was redesigned of having Mk's color since he was marked as the side who never left her

Mei wears a suit [thats already cleared because who does NOT want mei wearing one am i right? She's so girl boss hehe]

ABOUT:

Married [future au]

Redson in the future au- the samadhi fire is now back to his control than having Mei control over it because [I really thought it would be interesting since Mei already has her dragon ancestry powers so redson had his fire ability] there was quite alot of adventure the traffic light trio went through ever since before mk and red got married.

There was a power so strong that could transfer back his samadhi fire and almost took out half of Mei's consciousness thankfully she recovered fast.

Redson can now have full control from his powers now that the samadhi fire is in his control he's more stronger now.

In original human form for redson- he sometimes feel like insides of him are hurting and kinda really itchy for keeping his form in- and he was sometimes shy and thought it would be embarrassing to show his form out to them but when he got too comfortable he shows it- he fully shows the form when his own powers completely lost its temper while fighting a demon.

At the current future au- mk's design is human form when he's outside- and he has the monkey form when inside the fortress

Mk and redson have their own fortress than dbk's because it was their time to move out and probably take care one another-

Mk's bandana is dark red [than the red bandana he originally has from pigsy] and it has the samadhi fire symbol stamped orange color on the left side [my right] and the demon bull horns fused with a monkey logo stamped black on his right [my left]

Mk- The one he's wearing is a plain shirt and a red robe- an extra one for redson's red coat where he usually wears is now attached to his back.

Mk has a permanent black tattoo of a heart on his right arm

Redson has theirs on his left arm.

The two of them made swore to each other that their love is strong and will never give up that easily. And marking by words- this is carved on their arms.

[Love the idea of matching tattoos]

Red's hair is cut short [mk's choice of picking-]

He doesn't wear the usual pants that were violets but it's red and there is orange patterns down.

His horns are grown out not the usually small ones since his powers gotten stronger and the samadhi fire he created that was given to mei was returned to his posession now- he has that cracked [chip?] On his left horn because of a demon attack.

[this was the proposal thing i explained back there- jin accidentally knocked redson off with a strong hit and chipped his horn that he did not meant to do it on purpose]

Redson has that samadhi fire permanently marked red on his right arm- to symbolize that him. Redson is the one who created it.

By the way redson sometimes wears mk's bandana when he tries to train himself for a fight [cuz his hair is on the way lol-]

Mei's design isn't shown on the future au yet but can be shown soon tho- her appearance is fully changed than her personality.

She's still the usual Mei as she was in the past but with memories and experiences of course.

She talks with Pif and Macaque [a headcanon that her and pif were setting on the wedding plan once they agreed to get married]

Mei and macaque talk about how strong mk and redson would be and their child at the future- and not only that- Mei sometimes teases macaque by actually marrying swk lmao-

Mei's hair is longer now- [s3 redson's hair limit when down] but she does a bun and half down hair- her dragon scales is shown from her cheeks and other parts of her body but not much- her outfit that she's wearing is her green jacket [not the one from the show but with the traffic light trio colors] pants are grey than white-

STUFF TO KNOW ABOUT REDSON AND MK'S FUTURE CHILD:

JUST TO TELL SOMETHING! IF YOU KNOW LEGO NINJAGO THEN YOU PROBABLY KNOW KAI!

Anyway the future au kai-

Kai- well we're unsure the fact of wether he's adopted or not that came out of Mk's thing but uh we stuck with not adopted-

Kai shows his true form when in the fortress but not outside where he trains with the rest of his friends [lloyd and the others except nya and master fu]

They both know about him and his parents so he couldnt hide this.

Nya [sister] isn't exactly part of the demonbullkey family but she's shown as a half/step sibling with kai when she comes to his fortress to play games and stuff like how mei and mk normally would do on arcades or monkey king games stuff.

So they stuck up with nya and kai pretending to be actual siblings from the group which master fu also sticked in,

Mk sees nya as mei to him because seeing how nya and kai get together in a platonic sibling like way- shows to him like he was seeing himself and mei in the past.

Redson-on the other- sees Nya [not a distraction] but a strong soldier like- that he would definitely want to adopt lmao but he doesn't say it because he and mk know that nya has parents and they would never adopt her without the parents's approval-

Nya's parents doesn't know about kai's parents but kai's parents knows them- but they never say or talk to her parents because of personal reasons- and especially being the known Monkey Successor and the Dbk's son aka the one who created the samadhi fire.

Redson and Mk talked to Master fu right after kai got in the group and accidentally showed his true form to the master- he was shocked at first- so kai told him that he'll bring his parents to understand some things-

In the end of the conversation masterfu will pretend that kai's parents are normal just like the rest of the groups parents and that him and Nya are siblings.

They didnt manipulate him or anything- masterfu has known the tales and gossips about jttw, the great sage sun wukong, and the new successor, hell even the samadhi fire- redson was the one who created the samadhi fire and samadhi's have many elements which include FIRE written down and there was no way he missed that.

What he didn't know was that the successor and the demon bull prince were courting and got engaged-

Because as far as he knew- sun wukong and Dbk fought before and used to be allies from the brotherhood now that it has been broken- turns out after hearing redson and mk speak about swk and dbk they both made peace and truce allies again- after years of separation since they still consider together as allies-

master fu was still kind of a fan but he doesnt show his energy, he covered up kai's secret and talked things out to them.

One of those- speeches where "ninjas are meant to fight enemies and yada yada stuff" "evil demons such as mortal beings who threats the whole world" which redson sarcastically points to himself saying that he USED to take over the world after freeing his father dbk out- and mk just chuckled-

Master fu arranged his own tone trying not to show that he felt like he offended redson. As he was saying- if kai doesn't do anything such as hurting the group physically meaning it to them then there is no biggie.

Kai clarified to himself that he wanted to join as a ninja to be part of a purpose and be stronger like his parents for the next generation.

This really made a big chance for his life to change and it did. Mk and redson are proud of him honestly.

Like Red was- "my son is grown up and he's stronger than me I'm tearing up" mk in the other is like "we're proud parents, we raised him well"

Kai's demon form:

He shows his true demon form at their fortress, since he's part of the DemonBullKey family he pays his own respect.

Kai has small horns [it was ok since redson used to have small horns as well]

He has bull ears, a monkey mark thing on his face, and a monkey tail.

His power has fire powers. And the other half is Mk's.

Kai has longer hair when he shows his true form.

Now some people question me alot from tiktok about some things:

Why is Nya not part of the DemonBullKey family?

Who is the top or bottom?

Why is it called Demon Bull Key family?

How is SWK and DBK handling this engagement with Mk and Redson?

Are SWK and DBK good with terms now that their sons are both married?

How is Pigsy and Tang?

What about Macaque and Swk's relationship from the future au?

How is Mei since she doesn't have those fun bonds or hang outs with Mk now that the two lives in a fortress and taking care of things?

Is Mei upset?

Is Mei overprotective?

How did she know that they both ended up like this?

Did Macaque knew?

Why headcanon PIF and Mei knowing about Redson and Mk's relationship?

Any reactions when Kai is borned?

Does Kai have a nanny or a babysitter when he was a little baby?

What about bai?

Did redson actually grew a beared?

Do they sometimes get into a fight?

What does redson and mk do now that they live together?

What job does mk work in?

Does he still work as a noodleboy?

Does redson still call him Noodleboy?

Do they both live the same room?

Do the two of them share the same bed?

What answer did mk or redson give to kai when he asked how they both met?

What did mk or redson wear on their first date?

Where was their first date?

How many dates did they take before redson's proposal?

Where did they go on their first date?

Who confessed?

When was the time did redson and mk told the squad that they were both officially dating?

Did the squad and the db family get to eat together while talking about it?

When and where was their first kiss?

Answers:

Nya isn't part of the DBKey family [in my opinion] because I dont find something that would fit on her but just as a step sibling to kai [she has water powers and the dbkey family uses fire and strength]

Mk is mainly top, Redson is bottom. Either of it. Depending on both of their moods- sometimes Red is top and Mk is bottom- theres even times they're both bottoms and both tops at the same time- [doesn't matter]

The reason why it's called DemonBullKey family is because Redson takes the name of their 'Demon Bull' family that was passed down to him. And mk as a 'great successor' of swk he also takes half of the name. [I didnt find the 'monkey' fitting so it's short for Monkey that's why it's called 'Key' only]

Since swk and dbk still stick with eachother they may be sworn brothers but they still treat themselves some respect. It was honestly shocking for them because neither of them knew that they were courting. But at the end they're good and talked things out.

Swk and dbk are in good terms, they promised their sons that they stay strong in the future.

Pigsy and Tang [are married before Redson proposed to Mk btw] they both used to hate redson because back in the days he was trying to KILL Mk for that staff now that redson doesn't want it anymore and helped them with things about defeating lbd or spiderqueen, not to mention when mk told them both about how he saved his, Mei, and Sandy's life from that desert. They approved their courting on one condition, it is to NEVER hurt Mk's life. Redson accepts and said he would protect Mk from his life.

Macaque and Swk's relationship are both taking it slow. They don't want to move fast or anything- so it's better if slow.

Mei is alright, she may not have seen or talked much with mk these days but they both still remember eachother from time to time. Mei has alot of things to do while Mk does to. But she oftenly visits the fortress occassionally or even when they're not doing anything important.

Mei is upset, not to the point that Mk got married and that they both dont see eachother often now. She's upset that things will never be the same again like how it used to be. But she lives on with it.

Back when Redson and Mk officially announced to them that they both are in a relationship, Mei squeals from excitement. She has their full support and warned Redson not to hurt him at all or anything in the future. He has her words.

If you guys remembered S3 and looked back- the first ring of the samadhi fire episode. Seeing the part where mei takes photos of mk hugging redson while he pushes him. And also S2 when Mei heared that he helped mk beat his dad with a smirk. I bet she knew right there that there was a part of redson that she didn't know but have this- chemistry going on with mk all along and continued to develop without them knowing.

Macaque surely knew about this, takes place after S3 Macaque and Mei have their own conversations and said also stuff about mk and redson would possibly get married in the future [which they did] Macaque just smiled knowing that they both will soon.

Theres a reason why. Back in S2 The Skeleton Key episode is the part Redson revealed where Mk lives, and on that location that was shown. I had a hunch Pif suddenly knew because Redson is having an obsession with Mk (based on how much he mentions 'noodleboy' heheh) in S4 at the end of the episode where the Db family and the Mkid Squad are at the beach. Mei and Pif both get to talk about redson and mk's status now, theres also Macaque on the other side who placed bets.

When Kai is born, his form is shown to have monkey tail and small bull ears.

Redson- he got too worried that mk wouldnt make it after he gives birth with kai, but after looking at the baby, he was really really happy and wanted to hug mk so much. [Also kiss him hehe]

Pigsy- he saw the beautiful baby sweet angel and is happy that Kai was born [like any other grandpa who wants grand children-]

Tang- he was glad that Mk didn't pass out- god it took longer. And the baby is adorable for him to look at.

Sandy- he gets to be the one giving the baby some baby bottles for milk because baby kai is just- CUTE

Mei- when mei first carried baby kai in her arms she was in tears of joy and really happy that kai was born in this world, she's proud of her bestfriend.

Swk- swk is shocked [how the baby has mk's features and redson's as well] he is really happy for mk

Dbk- the happier kai was born he wanted to cook meals for kai when redson and mk drops off at the demonbullking fortress. (Like any other grandfather what does to their grandchildren they give them really delicious meal 😋)

Pif- pif's reaction when kai was born, she's like any other bossy mothers who gives anything for her child.

Macaque- his reaction shows less but does enjoy keeping mk company. Even tho mk didnt want macaque here but he did apologize to him a bunch of times.

Nezha- His reaction shows that he is also happy and excited that this would include kai's celebration

Bai- since bai is mk's [lil step sister] bai doesn't see mk much but she talks to them over the phone, she's out for family vacation with her parents and well- doesn't get to visit them much. But bai still considers mk as her big brother, she hopes that baby kai would grow into a strong and a nice person.

And yes! Kai has a babysitter! He has three actually- theres Sandy, then there Mei, but if both of them are busy then theres Tang or Macaque- (honestly who even put Macaque incharge?)

Bai in the future au she's gotten older now and her long hair is still there, she still wears the same headband. When she has free time she goes to Pigsys Noodles to visit, or even talk to Macaque again about how things are going.

Yes, redson grew a beared. It was the part where i posted about- <Me and My Husband> after a few months has passed since the wedding and he started regretting his life decisions. But now him and mk are together everything just- changed. Mk and red had their little talks and they both smiled trying to carry the future on.

They both do get into little fights (not an actual problems) like- "hey im supposed to be the one to cook! Thank you honey" "You're cheating at this game" they sometimes have bigger problems but they still worked it out. It's not good if one of them handles it too much.

Mk does- well- help gardening with Redson, they both share moments and memories together and other stuff. Like a family.

For mk I'm still not sure what job he'd have now that he quit from pigsys noodles.

And no, he doesn't work as a noodleboy not after him and red are married now and moved out from the apartment.

Redson calls him Noodleboy sometimes but mainly he calls them by their real name now that Mk told him his name is Qi Xiaotian. (Sometimes red doesnt feel much of calling mk honey or babe since he doesn't find it soothing to him)

YES they both live in the same room. With a big bed! Theres a side from Mk's and the other side is redson's. There are also pictures of Mk and Redson at the wedding day, and also the day they both were officially dating.

The two of them share the same bed! Who doesnt? Married couples do!

This is actually hilarious, kai asked Mk how him and redson first met. They were at the dining table and redson spat out his drink after he asked that. Mk's reply was also funny! "Well- your dad and I met when I accidentally fell from the top- thats the part where i got the staff and well-' "we both used to be enemies- and that i-" "tried to kill me?" Kai's eye just widened and he was so speechless regretting that question he asked..

Mk and redson were wearing the same outfit that they both wore in s3

Lets say they both took 3-4 dates until redson proposed

The first date is took place on the arcade, mk told redson it was a 'hangout without mei' without him knowing it was a date. Next thing mk told him after was that- it wasn't a hang out and it was a date. This made redson thought about it and he was so dumbfounded.

The second date is before redson confessed his feelings to mk (not the 'i like you' part yet) but he told him how much he felt inside of him from. A long time now, and mk told him he felt rhe same as well.

It was after the second date, when Pigsy asked redson what he has been up to. Taking mk spending his own time with him- pigsy wanted to beat him up. Until mk gathered the squad around together. Mk slowly told them about him and redson's relationship while holding redson's hand. Telling them that they are both in a relationship now. Pigsy is in lost of words he almost fainted, Tang is supportive and also cares about mk's decision. Sandy is highly supportive and mei as well. 'Just dont hurt the lil guy'

Yes, the dinner is held at the demon bull fortress where pigsy and dbk both cook for each others taste. The feast and the conversations were great! And even dbk and pigsy talked about chang e's cooks.

For when, it was at the last episode of S4 where they both were in the beach. Redson and Mk were both playing on the sea until a big wave hit mk and accidentally put force from his whole body into moving towards redson. And then shwala they kissed

I think thats all of the questions, I tried to answer it (not good with grammar but I'm still trying)

Anyway- THANK YOU FOR TAKING YOUR TIME!

FOR READING THIS AU LORE! I REALLY WISH I COULD MAKE MORE! BUT THIS IS ALL I HAVE! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[mangledscrimp]

HAII GUYSSS,, HERE’S THE REFS FOR HERSHEL TEEN AND RANDALL TEEN DIABOLICAL YURI!!! Wahhh

I know not everyone will like them, but I like them and that’s really all that matters tbh. !!

First with Hershel!

Writing out the bullet points so it’s easier to read!

•She isn’t that interested in archeology but her dad encourages it since he has a fond for it as well! Roland loved to adventure in his prime and he wants Hershel to experience something like that as well.

•She has pcos. Ok guys, listen to me okay…she’s..she’s literally me..okay..?,,,I gave her pcos because I wanna feel a better about myself okay..okay…and that I think it would add more to her character okay bye

•Fond of puzzles because of her father and friends. Randall is quite the encourager when it comes to puzzles, especially with Hershel. Hershel has grown to like solving puzzles the more she bonds with her dad and Randall.

•Going to the library with Randall. Hershel enjoys when Randall brings her along for library trips and shows her the cool archeological text books. Though she still finds it a bit strange since Angela and Alphonse tend to find it weird how Randall usually just wants to hang out more with her instead of them. But, she tends to overlook that and continue to have fun with Randall! Even when it’s just reading a book or two!

•Going by the Sapphic label. She has the need to feel like she should be attracted to men as well at her age, but she doesn’t really have that wired very well in her brain. Her mother suggests she should allow herself to be open to roughly anything that comes her way.

not in the picture but, Hershel’s nationality is Barbadian/Bajan and puerto rican lolllll bc I felt like it tehe (though, Hershel would call herself Barbadian because she doesn’t live in Barbados)

,, Also not in the picture but she is 17years old!!

•Notes;

-Her design changed a lot through development, at first I wanted her hair to be how it is normally, a small but long poofy hair, but I think the hair as a small fro is a good call back to Hersh teen original design

-Another example would be me trying to figure out what color her vest should be, eventually I got it down to be blue vest with a red tie, but in the beginning I was debating on keeping the original color pallet

Now with Randall!!

I feel like u guys might hate me for this one but..ehhhhh,,,i don’t really give a fart…

yeahg this ref is like. huge huge. okay. be nice…

As always, writing out bullet points and explaining some,

•Her glass lenses are fake, she tries to look like her dad most of the time since he’s a very known archeologist in this au. Though he was lost very long ago, when Randall was about 5 years old. He was also with Angela’s brother but, that’s another story!

•The two “mom makes her shave” bullets. Rosa, Randall’s mother, is quite the horrible woman. Randall started to develop facial hair that looked similar to her father when puberty hit, so she made her shave so Randall wouldn’t look like the man that left their family for his archeological studies. Even though that wasn’t his choice. Randall quite likes her facial hair but when her mom nags her about it, she’ll feel self conscious. This is why she wears her bandana! Though, as it says in the photo, Her mom lets her keep her hair sometimes if it’s not as noticeable.

•Randall is Mexican!! I really like the mexican hispanic randall headcanon, it’s my favorite, so I wanted to give it to Randyyy in this au!!

•Purses archeology to be more like her dad. Randall does this mostly in secret with Hershel in the library. Her mother wouldn’t want her taking the same path as her father so she does it with Hershel because she know Hershel wouldn’t disclose that to her mother.

•Randall is a closeted lesbian. Ohhhh she’s like. Deep in a glass closet, all of her friends know but they don’t want to tell her that they know. Her mom doesn’t know since Randall is so afraid to tell her mom about what she and Hershel do and she’s afraid to invite Hershel over to her home because she fears that Hershel would tell her mother the things that they do together (archeology reading time in the library)

•She’s quite awkward since Hershel arrived in stansbury and started attending school. Angela and Alphonse noticed it pretty quickly. Randall would usually have her jacket on with the buttons up, with only two left off of course, but that really started to change the more she got comfortable with Hershel around.

•She also has. pcos. OKAY HEAR ME OUT IN THIS ONE OKAY GUYS :< ,, she has pcos and a condition that can come with pcos called Hirsutism !! Hirsutism is excessive hair growth in certain areas like the chest, arms, legs and face! Randall has hair a lot in those places, she doesn’t shave anywhere but her face. She just doesn’t find the appeal to it!

•Yes..Jade Harley is an inspiration to..her..don’t ask me why..I don’t even homestuck, it’s just for hair anyways lolsss

not in the picture,, Randall is 17 years old tehe

Here’s some outfit stuff for toggles and other things lallaaaaaa, also! The stripe on her shirt would go around fully, not just the front.

ALSO!! Oh my god when making Randy ref and finishing someone,,, definitely not any spherical wizard of sorts,, said that it looked like Randall’s wall that he put all his ideas and stuff on with all the doodles on Randall’s ref page and I was just. Wow. entirely correct. So I did this;

i’m going to DIEEEE after posting this oh my god

i was laughibggghhh my ass off making that. I’m fully convinced that Randall would draw in that yuri art style and still not think she’s a lesbian.

Angela so real for that honestly like how are they not. Also alphonse shirt..happy puppy…Henry don’t gaf.

[moonbeamwritings]

bathed in moonlight

wc: ~3.3k

pairing: johnny joestar x fem!reader

warnings: nudity, nonsexual intimacy (bathing together), fem!reader pretending to be a man for the steel ball run

Your life is simple. Quiet. You work on your family’s farm, the only child to two loving parents. You take on a lot, both emotionally and physically, familial burdens becoming your own to bear as soon as you could help on the property. 

The burden gets heavier the winter before the Steel Ball Run. Your back bows and threatens to crack and splinter when your mother falls ill and the responsibility of both mother and daughter comes to rest on your shoulders. You tend to the animals when you can, clean the house, cook the food. All the while, your aunt and uncle who have come to stay in the wake of your mother’s illness to care for her and assist you and your father, talk in hushed tones, blaming you for your family’s misfortune. You’re not doing enough. Well, maybe if they had a son or more money things would be different.

Your father can only tell them off so many times before their words start to seep through your skin, covering your bones in a dark, cloudy haze. You take on more responsibility, eager to prove yourself. To do something.

Months later, a newspaper you find in the corner store changes everything. A horse race with a generous cash prize is set to be held in September — The Steel Ball Run. Your father taught you to ride when you were just a kid. Hours of your youth spent in the warm summer sun working with your horse before your mother rang the dinner bell. You know it won’t be easy, but you know you have to try, even if your family won’t approve.

You spend the next few weeks hoarding supplies, stuffing them into closets and hiding them in the stables, chipping away at all of the things you’ll need, and on the night you plan to leave you press a kiss to your parents’ cheeks, and go to bed, heart turning to lead in your chest.

That night, when the moon is high, and the house has fallen silent, you pull your father’s clothes from beneath your bed — an old pair of pants with a rip in the knee, a loose button up shirt, and an old cowboy hat — and tiptoe down the rickety wooden stairs, careful to avoid the creaky boards along the way, and disappear into the night.

As you ride, the wind whipping in your hair, and the moon casting shadows over the landscape, you assume a new identity, one of a man on the hunt for a new beginning. You’re sure you won’t be the only one, and you’ll be able to slip right through the cracks. And though you’re leaving your home behind, everything you’ve known growing more minuscule with each beat of your horse’s hooves, you feel hopeful — like a grand adventure is waiting just beyond the horizon.

The moment you meet Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli is the moment your life becomes infinitely more complicated. They’re nice, friendly despite Gyro’s initial intention to kill you for so much as looking at him. But hey, all budding friendships have their hiccups, right? You travel with them and find safety in their numbers, though getting wrapped up in their scheme to find the parts of a mysterious corpse wasn’t exactly high on your to-do list.

The only times you ever hesitate, the only times you ever find your voice losing the confident vibrato of the man you’re masquerading as is when it’s time to bathe. At inns, tucked neatly along the streets at each checkpoint, it’s easy. Harmless. You can sneak away and conceal your true form behind closed doors and shower curtains. But with the sky overhead and a babbling brook acting as your only chance at freshening up, your fingers wring the soft fabric of your bandana.

You weave intricate excuses, using a different one each time, hoping, praying the boys don’t catch on.

“Oh, I was going to eat first.”

“Someone needs to collect the firewood.”

“I’m just not used to bathing around other people yet.”

And the first few times it works, Gyro doesn’t think a thing of it, looking at Johnny as he dunks his head beneath the water, and raising his shoulders to shrug. “Eh, some guys just have their things, ya know?”

Johnny nods reluctantly, but feels there’s something else going on. Something you’re not telling them. He knows you’re not an enemy stand user, you’re not out to get them or kill them in their sleep. He’s certain you would’ve done it by now if that was your true intention, but there’s something else.

He ends up discovering your secret entirely by accident. 

Sure he’s suspicious of what you’re hiding, and sure he wants to get to the bottom of it, but he’s not a creep. Honest. He didn’t mean to walk in on you just as you were pulling your night shirt down over your head, curves and smooth skin on display. As his entire face burns, he’s at least thankful all he saw was your back.

You whip around at the sound of his strangled gasp, and your face ignites. At the same time, you both frantically mumble, “Oh my god.”

You’re speaking over each other as you race to kick your door shut, pulling Johnny into your room with a harsh tug.

“‘M really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in! Yer door was open and I just thought-”

“How much did you see? How long have you been here? Do not tell Gyro or I will-”

Words and questions rush from your mouths like waterfalls, only stopping when you finally huff, running a weary hand through your hair. “It’s fine,” you start, only to repeat yourself when Johnny opens his mouth. “It’s fine. Just please, Johnny. Don’t tell Gyro.”

The desperate plea in your voice pulls the strings of his heart taut, and he’d do anything you ask if it meant he’d never have to hear that broken, aching sound again. His brows crease, and his face softens. “I won’t.” And as the clock behind you ticks to fill the silence, he adds, “I promise.”

In the days that follow, you hold your breath, waiting for the pin to drop, for the dynamics to finally shift. But that shift never comes. Johnny keeps your secret to himself, treating you just as he always did. Gratitude blooms in your chest, and you find yourself smiling whenever Johnny does, fixing him with a honeyed expression, like you’re seeing him in a new light.

You sit nearly shoulder to shoulder by campfire light, you eat meals at the same time, and when Gyro isn’t babbling away, the two of you make quiet conversation to fill the silence. It’s nice, feeling like you can finally ease the ache in your shoulders. The burden has shifted, if only just slightly, and you’re grateful to Johnny for taking on some of its weight.

“Wanna set up here?” Johnny asks, bringing Slow Dancer to a stop at a quiet clearing. The grassy patch is a ways off the path, concealed by trees and dotted with flowers. You hear the dull babbling of a river just down the hill. An oasis. “I think we should rest sooner than later now that the sun is starting to set.”

The ache in your back shoots up your spin and you roll your shoulders. “Yes please. I don’t think I have anything else in me.”

You all dismount and begin spreading out, setting up tents and crafting a little circle of rocks for a small fire. And as you chuck your bag to the ground, Gyro approaches you with a proposition.

“I’m gonna bathe now, I’ll make dinner once I get out if you find the firewood.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

He ruffles your hair, before shooting Johnny a look. “You comin’?”

Johnny's gaze flickers between you and Gyro for a moment, pensive, before he replies, “I’ll take a dip later, wanna rest for a minute.”

Gyro holds up his hands and sets a towel over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

“Do ya need help with the wood?”

“No, I think I got it, Johnny. Thank you.”

By the time you come back, bundles of sticks in your hands, Gyro’s already setting up a pot to boil water, wet hair clinging to the back of his night shirt. When you drop the pile, he grins at you appreciatively. “Thanks.”

With Gyro’s attention elsewhere, you and Johnny sneak off down the hill, excited to have your own time in the river.

You perch your things on a rock before hesitantly locking eyes with Johnny. He knows your secret, and with the sun setting, he probably won’t be able to make much out anyway. Yet you feel bare, vulnerable even now, fully clothed.

As if sensing your trepidation, Johnny pulls his hat off. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go first.”

You turn your back and let Johnny strip and get in, and once he gives you the all clear, you fiddle with one of the buttons on your shirt. “Just-... Just don’t look.”

You slowly unbutton your shirt, and Johnny shuts his eyes, the cool water of the river already kneading the ache from his joints. “I won’t.”

“I don’t want a repeat of last time.” A flutter, and a soft thud follow. Johnny figures you must have lost your shirt and your hat. He doesn’t dare peek.

“It was an accident.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

The smile that forms on Johnny’s face is lazy, teasing. “Alright, alright.”

Johnny hears you hiss. “Shit, it’s cold.” You dip into the water until only from your shoulders up remains above its surface. “You can open up.”

He almost wishes he hadn’t opened them at all. You have a bar of soap in hand, your hair clinging to the back of your neck with water. His eyes trace along the smooth curve of your neck, watching as the delicate lines kiss your collarbones and shoulders. The setting sun catches the water droplets that cling to your skin, bathing you in tiny flecks of pink and orange. Your body glitters like a jewel as you rinse away the grime and sweat from a long day of traveling. You’re so beautiful Johnny fears he may never be the same.

In that moment, he understands artists and their muses. He understands why someone would painstakingly mix colors and stare, memorizing features and curves and lines. He understands how love inspires art.

And he wants to die when you smile, this tiny sheepish thing that Johnny thinks stops his heart in his chest. You duck beneath the water’s surface until it reaches your chin. “My eyes are up here, ya know.”

Pushing a hand in his direction, you send a gentle spray of water barreling towards his face, and it's then that Johnny decides he needs to get his mind out of the gutter; shifting focus to start washing his hair.

With his back to you, you can admire the strong muscles you find there. His pretty blond waves are darkened by water and slicked back away from his forehead. They brush along his shoulders and bring your attention to the pale skin of his shoulders, inhabited by tiny freckles, constellations trapped right on his skin. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to connect the dots, to find patterns in the speckled curves of his shoulders. You want to give names to those tiny stars, to kiss them.

“What-“ Johnny looks like a deer in headlights as he emerges from the water, fresh from dunking his head to wash away the shampoo. “What’re you looking at?”

The shimmer of the water, deep blue tones mixing with the same oranges and pinks that paint your skin, catch the light blue of his eyes, and you feel like you could drown in them. Johnny in the light of that setting sun, eyes sparkling, hair shimmering like precious, golden threads, is a sight you wish to burn into your memory, to covet.

Now it’s your turn to feel caught red handed, vulnerability prickling your bare skin. You speak without thinking. “You’re so…” You struggle to identify the right word, and when you can’t conjure one, you hope that what you do find will be enough to articulate what you’re thinking. “You’re so pretty, Johnny.”

And despite the silence that follows, and the awkward tension that hangs, thick and heavy, in the air, Johnny can’t bring himself to refute you. If he didn’t know you better, he’d wave a hand, tell you you’re full of shit or that you’re just trying to butter him up, but he does know better; and it’s that exact thought that sends his heart racing back to life. It’s a compliment he’ll only accept from you — an angel amongst men. And Johnny’s certain that angels can’t lie.

You watch as his wet cheeks flush, eyes downcast as you catch the tiniest ghost of a smile on his lips. His response is quiet, bashful, and it makes you want to hide your smile beneath the surface of the water. “Thanks.”

Any walls that remained between you have been reduced to rubble, and as the moon begins to peek over the trees, you feel comfortable, more relaxed now that the daylight has made way for night. You fall into murmured conversation and the warm hues of the sun morph into the silver beams of the moon, floating together with your skin feeling refreshed and bodies feeling slack. Your hand brushes over Johnny’s beneath the cool surface of the river.

When the conversation lulls, Johnny worries his lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing.

“What?” You ask, tilting your head and squinting at him in the moonlight. “What is it?”

Johnny looks at you for a long moment. He’s nervous. He runs through a list of things he could say, but even now, with your hand in his and your shoulder brushing against his own, he can’t form the words in his throat.

You’re so pretty it hurts. My heart is hammering against my ribs so fiercely, I’m afraid it’ll burst right out of my chest. If you keep touching me, looking at me like that, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself anymore. You’ve ignited a fire in my belly that I’ll never be able to extinguish.

He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by rapidly approaching footsteps.

Johnny hisses. “It’s Gyro.”

You have to act, and you have to act now. Either you arouse suspicion and stay put, jeopardizing your precious secret, or you hide - somewhere, somehow, and leave Johnny to fill in the gaps. Deciding on the latter, you scramble up to the bank of the river and practically throw yourself behind a bush, praying you’re out of sight of both Johnny and Gyro. You don’t think you can stomach the blow to your ego being caught naked, and now covered in mud (again), would deal.

“Hey, you need help getting out?” Gyro asks when he approaches the edge of the water. “You’ve been down here awhile.

It’s only then that Johnny notices the way his fingertips have started to prune. “Oh, no.” He rushes to answer, “‘m fine. Just got lost thinkin’ about stuff.”

Gyro’s only half listening, gaze fixated on a pile of clothes amongst the rocks. Your clothes. Johnny’s chest tightens.

“What’s this doing here?” Pressing further, Gyro asks if you finally manned up and joined Johnny to bathe. Johnny catches sight of your soaps, sitting just out of eye-line on a rock behind some thickets, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders — less to explain away.

“Oh, he came down and… went around the bend that way,” Johnny nods his head towards the left. “Wanted some privacy, I think.”

You’re shivering from your spot in the bush, branches poking your ribs and leaves getting trapped in your hair. So much for getting cleaned up. 

“You’re a shit liar, Johnny.”

It’s almost like a horror novel, the way your body stills, the way your breath catches in your throat. Shit shit shit. Your heart races, and you worry that somehow Gyro will hear it.

“Wha-”

“You don’t have to play coy with me Johnny, I can see it plain as day.”

Johnny has never wanted to curl up and die so badly in his life. Gyro had figured out your secret all on his own, and is content to rub it in Johnny’s face. Torture him with it.

“You finally told him you like him… I gotta hand it to you, I never thought you’d have it in you.”

Johnny stands corrected.

“What’re you-? Gyro that’s not-” Johnny can't even form a coherent sentence under Gyro’s smug gaze, and knowing you’re sitting behind that bush, listening to this shit only serves to add fire to the warmth pooling in his cheeks, boiling up to the tips of his ears.

You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth.

Gyro clicks his tongue with a wag of his finger, head shaking and ruffling his dirty blond hair. “You don’t have to explain it to me. Trust me, I get it. Our lil riding partner’s pretty easy on the eyes. If you ever need some time alone, I can make myself scarce, ya know? Collect some firewood, maybe hunt a little or something. However long you need.”

Johnny can hear the smirk in Gyro’s tone more than see it in the dark of the evening. He struggles to collect himself. “It’s not like that.”

“Mm,” Gyro hums, “sure it’s not.” He raises his voice a little, ensuring that you both can hear what comes next, “In any case, food’s done whenever you two lovebirds are ready to eat.”

Johnny’s face burns as he watches Gyro disappear back to camp and out of sight, and just as he brings his gaze back towards the smooth surface of the water, you’re climbing back in. He catches an unfiltered glimpse at your curves, the expanse of your legs, the plush of your hips. His eyes squeeze shut and he feels like he’s suffering from acute heat stroke. Johnny knows the visage of your body, sinking into the water, bathed in moonlight that clings to your skin like a silver gown, will haunt his dreams until the end of time. Aphrodite has been plucked from her throne amongst the Gods and dropped right in the lap of some disgraced jockey from Kentucky.

He can’t possibly face you now can he? He’s not prepared to meet a goddess.

“I-” You look up at Johnny through your lashes, water clinging to them from your journey back into the river. You seem almost bashful, shy. Johnny’s heart skips a beat.

“He’s an idiot.” Is all Johnny can bring himself to tell you.

You giggle, and Johnny thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “He is.”

A quiet moment passes before you’re back where you started, hand closing over his own as you settle before him, backlit by the full light of the moon. “I meant what I said earlier.”

With the way you carefully examine the slope of his nose, the way your gaze flickers from his eyes to his lips and back again with a look Johnny can only describe as reverence, the man has no choice. He believes you, just as he had before. He captures your cheek in his palm, as if doing so will stop you from returning to the heavens, disappearing before his eyes.

Johnny brings you closer, lips ghosting over yours. “I know.”