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#the jester's writing
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hey did anyone ask for a heavily biased list of s3 worldbuilding headcannons and how i think some of the lifesteal guys interact with each other? no? too bad i was force fed half of this by my brain while trying to go to sleep
cut for length bc it's long sorry not sorry
clownpierce
of course i have to start with clown he is like a bug to me and i'm putting him under a microscope
he is a BEAST. a CREATURE even.
aka he's from the void but no one except ash knows that
the deranged discord thoughts at 2 am said clown is from the void bc everywhere he goes he brings death. he kills. it’s what he does. he kills and he’s fuckin great at it. do you hear me. do you understand.
covered from head to toe in clothing to hide the fact he's from the void. there's a constant slight chill that surrounds him and it's only really noticeable when someone's almost touching him
he never lets anyone get that close anyway besides the occasional handshake or smth bc yeah anyone would be uncomfortable if someone was standing inches away from you. he plays off the cold hands with a poor blood circulation excuse if anyone asks
if he did show skin, his silhouette would be like a black hole where it's completely pitch black, and depending on the angle, he either appears 2d or 3d (very disorienting and unnerving)
this guy does not have a single stable relationship to fall back on. he allies with people for power and not for comradery, and it is So Hard for him to tear down the dozens of walls he keeps up around him because he often finds that when he does, he gets betrayed and left in the dust (mob anon from lifesteal headcannons i am thinking so hard about your submission)
plus it's hard for him to know whether or not this person is allying with him because he's The Deadliest Assassin Blah Blah Blah and they want that safety net/protection or if they genuinely want to ally with him
it takes him a long time to fully trust branzy, and even then he doesn't open up to him about his personal stuff
the mask stays On. Constantly. doesn't matter how much he trusts someone he will never willingly show his face
he and red have a friendly rivalry with the heart economy side of lifesteal, they're both competing for the title of strongest/holder of most hearts or smth like that
ashswag
dude used to be a normal guy way way way way before lifesteal events n stuff but then he fell into the void and came back Wrong
basically instead of dying instantly, he survived for a little bit longer than usual, broke through reality, and saw that everything is just a simulation and everyone is just code, including himself
that fucked him up bad physically and mentally, and his left side is all glitched and void-like now (chronic pain coded)
dude is technically immortal but he never really tested losing all of his hearts yet
he knows that clown is from the void because he knows what the void feels like and is hypertuned to it, and to him, clown RADIATES it like a space heater. he can't stand too close to him and has to have at least one person's width between them. he hasn't confronted clown about it though because he knows when to keep his mouth shut
being close to the void for him hurts in an ocular migraine type way, but he typically pushes through it when he's down at bedrock level or in the end
he doesn't make stable relationships with people because he doesn't really see the point in them
nihilism 100
whatever side he aligns with is usually the one causing the most chaos
branzycraft
evil little meow meow
let him be angry. let him have rage.
he is Just Some Guy (aka normal ass human) but he is so smart
not a fighter but he is a builder and a damn good one at that
need a trap that is sure to kill? branzy
very good at getting the fuck out of situations that would've killed him if he didn't immediately dip when he did
based on vibes alone, early s3 branzy would so be friends with subz and vitalasy (which i think actually happens so i win)
i need branzy to be envious of clown's fighting skill and heart count before he starts warming up to him. please where is the slow burn.
falls out with subz and vitalasy when he starts allying with clown and co, and especially when he tricks vitalasy into the funhouse
during the cleansing when the dirties and team chaos are relatively working together, vitalasy tries to reconcile and pull branzy away from team chaos, but branzy's lost in the power sauce
he and rek are Just Some Guy buddies who exchange near-death experience stories (i need more branzy and rek friendship please please please please please p)
i am ace beaming your clownzy mwahahaha
leowook
strap in boys because have you considered the tension between clown and leo after mob falls (once again mob anon from lifesteal headcannons i am thinking so hard about your submission)
they were tight. they were bros. they were homies. leo was the only person clown felt like he could confide in during mob. and then leo turned coats. i'm SO NORMAL.
clown has NOT forgiven him
super duper a cyborg. he's a tnt minecart pvper he had to have blown off his limbs at some point /silly
but yeah his limbs are mechanical, along with one of his eyes. can't really see it though bc he constantly wears a mask, long sleeves, pants, and gloves. i'll probably default to his left eye if i ever draw leowook face
he and red feel like they would be friends based on vibes
still works/allies with zam after mob in an attempt to go back to what he lost
slaps roof of leowook this bad boy can fit so much mob angst inside of it
princezam
certified Thing. don't know what, he just is
has loony toons vibes. to me.
so annoyingly positive in the eyes of the others, they all want to punch him at least once
hero complex 100
dude just manages to rizz his way into teams
zam is smart. he knows what he's doing.
ok actual serious hcs bro has the most worldbuilding in his explanation tbh
in my head, lifesteal is this independent port city-state that was originally run by everyone and acted as a free, international trade center. zam is the crown prince of the neighboring territory surrounding the city, and when mob started gaining serious power, he charmed his way into working with them.
the deal he struck with mob is that if he wanted to join, lifesteal wouldn't be a part of zam's kingdom and all of his actions in mob were separate from his actions as the prince. it worked out relatively well for both of them: mob got a powerful ally with good political/funding power, and zam got to play hero and get involved with lifesteal politics
when mob fell, he initially respected their previous agreement where he wouldn't play prince in lifesteal, but when heart economics grew too unbalanced in his eyes, he decided to annex the city and then start the cleansing
nobody enjoyed zam annexing the territory, and especially not when his first order of business was to have everyone over ten hearts withdraw and bank them to evenly distribute to people with less than ten hearts
gonna pause here for now bc i feel like if i tried listing another character, it wouldn't have the same heart behind it as these guys do. if anyone does wanna see another silly that i didn't get to here, feel free to shoot me an ask or smth idm :]
fuck cringe i am having a blast i love worldbuilding
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the-anxious-youth · 8 months
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Bubbles
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Pairing: Buggy x gender neutral!Reader
Summary: While he's being held captive by the Straw Hats, Buggy won't shut up, which gives you an idea.
Warnings: none, this is all fluff, some mentions of insecurities from Buggy but nothing too angsty
Word Count: 4.2k
Author's note: This idea came to me while I was daydreaming the other day, and I just had to write it down. This is based off of the live-action Buggy, although I am only on the second episode so it may not be canon-accurate. Also, he has long hair in this cause I said so (begging to see Jeff Ward with long hair next season). Hope y'all enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! There will be a part 2, don’t worry <3 (The banners are from cafekitsune)
Edit: part two is up!
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“So now what?”
The collection of Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and yourself stood in a circle, discussing what to do with a certain clown pirate’s head. Usopp is the first to speak up after Luffy asked the question.
“Well, we can’t leave him unsupervised; who knows what he’d get up to.” Everyone turned to look at Buggy’s detached head, which wore a cheeky look, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I vote Y/N to take care of it,” Zoro states blankly, crossing his arms as he speaks.
“Hey! I’m still a person, even without the body, so don’t refer to me as it!” The objection comes from the animated head, vexation seeping through his tone. Your mouth momentarily twitches upward at his little outburst, it was almost reminiscent of a kitten hissing after unwanted pets.
“Why do I have to babysit him?” You turn to Zoro, matching his apprehensive stance. He meets your gaze with a cold look. You hadn’t been a part of the straw hat crew for long, and Zoro was taking his sweet time warming up to you.
“Because you’re the newest here, and that’s how hierarchy works.” 
His tone left no room for argument. Your shoulders slump, and you let out an irritated sigh, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.
“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you walk over to pick up Buggy, making sure to be gentle. The clown winks at you, a flirty smile on his face. You take him back to your cabin, not wanting to risk accidentally dropping him overboard. Despite only being a head, a smug aura radiates around him, already planning ways to mess with you. 
You reach your cabin and kick the door open with your foot. Being the newest member of the straw hat crew, you were given the smallest room, not that you really minded. You place Buggy down on your bed, moving to sit at the small desk in the corner of the room. 
“So what are we going to do first, darling?” Buggy smirks as he talks, clearly trying to get under your skin. 
“We? There is no we. You’ll sit there quietly while I go over these maps.” You bark, not even bothering to spare him a glance. 
“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?” You can hear the tease in his tone and can tell that he’s grinning without having to look at him.
“You’re not here to have fun. You’re being held captive, remember?” Smoothing your fingers out over the maps, you tilt your head, trying to focus.
“Yes, but who says captivity can’t be enjoyable?” His question shocks you, and you turn to gaze at him with an unamused look. Realizing that he’s completely serious, you let out a scoff.
“You really are crazy, clown.”
He smiles smugly, not bothered by your comment.
“It’s more fun that way.” 
You roll your eyes and turn back to the maps, choosing to pretend he’s not there. ‘He must really like the sound of his own voice’, you think to yourself. The clown continues to talk your ear off, but after a while, you’re able to tune him out. Before long, you’ve analyzed all the maps. Turning back to him with a curious look, you realize he’s gotten to the end of some story you couldn’t care to listen to.
“And that’s why you don’t fall asleep on the beach.” Buggy smiles at you, enjoying your annoyance, watching you tilt your head at him.
“Cat got your tongue?” He purrs. Rolling your eyes, an idea pops into your head. 
“Hey… I think I know how to get you to be quiet.” A sly smirk crawls its way across your face, and the clown’s chipper mood falters.
“Oh yeah? What might that be?” He tries to keep his confident demeanor, but the look on your face scares him.
You nibble on your bottom lip without responding before walking over to him and picking him up. This immediately wipes the smirk off his face, and he looks up at you, suddenly concerned for his safety. 
“Hey now, what are you doing?” He asks nervously, secretly afraid you’ll throw him overboard for talking so much. You place him on top of your desk and move to grab the empty basin in the corner of the room.
“I’m giving you a bath,” you shrug nonchalantly, a cheeky smile on your face. He pales at that and laughs nervously. 
“Wait, what do you mean? Are you going to waterboard me or something?” The look on the clown shows that he thinks it’s a real possibility, which causes you to chuckle.
“No, I’m just going to give you a bath; you smell like you could use one.” He just stares at you silently, quickly dropping his playful persona.
“What, cat got your tongue?” You mock him, and he gulps quietly. The fear in his eyes is quite amusing, you admit to yourself.
“You mean you’re literally going to bathe me?” A confused look crosses him, all the confidence in his voice gone.
“Yes.” You nod. “You look like you haven’t showered in weeks. Besides, now I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” A smirk crawls across your visage, enjoying seeing the trickster squirm. It wasn’t often the clown had the tables turned on him, and he definitely didn’t expect it coming from you.
“Now, wait a minute, I can be quiet without that.” He looks up at you worriedly, the idea of a bath visibly rattling him.
“But I thought you wanted to have fun?” Your smirk widens and you put a hand on your hip.
“Okay, I take it back. I’ll be good, I swear.” A nervous laugh emerges as he tries to break the tension.
“Too late.” His face drops, triggering a small chuckle from you. 
“Oh, relax, will you? I’m technically doing you a favor.” This time, a genuine smile graces your face, which does nothing to calm his nerves. “Now stay.” You put your hand up as if you were talking to a canine, to which Buggy rolls his eyes, your other hand holding the metal basin.
“I’m not a dog,” he mutters softly, not having the courage to stand up to you entirely.
You leer at him, opening the door to leave before shutting it behind you. Sitting there quietly, Buggy questions how he even got here. Not before long, you return, the bucket full of warm water. You place it on the ground, grab the towel off your shoulder, fold it, and lay it on the bed. 
“You’re serious?” He says quietly, watching you semi-curiously, shocked that you weren’t kidding. You hum softly and nod your head.
“I am.” Looking up at him, you can see the fear on his features, and your eyes soften a bit. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
He eyes you suspiciously, not sure whether or not to believe your words. Grabbing a small pouch, you pull out a bar of soap and a small bottle, which Buggy assumes is shampoo. Lastly, you grab a small wooden board and place it over the center of the tub.
“So you don’t drown,” you utter, his question practically visible on his face. He nods slowly in response, having a hard time believing the situation.
“I’ll have to take this off,” you gesture to his bandana and he bows his head in agreement, deciding not to fight it as you seem pretty determined. Gently removing the striped cloth, you fold it nicely and place it on the other side of the desk. Secondly, you remove the hair tie that kept his bright blue mane in a ponytail. Buggy watches you silently, interested in your next move. Softly grabbing the sides of his head, you place him on the wooden board that lies across the center of the tub. 
“I’m going to wash your hair first, okay?” 
He nods in response, curious eyes never leaving your face. You grab a small cup and fill it with warm water, asking him to lean his head backward so it doesn’t get in his eyes. The clown does as you say, though instead of closing his eyes, he keeps them glued on you, not trusting that you won’t dunk him in the water. You gently pour the water over his hair, moving your other hand to shield his eyes as he seems to want to keep them open. The usually talkative clown stays silent, not wanting to admit to himself that the warm water feels quite pleasant.
“When was the last time you actually washed your hair?” 
He raises an eyebrow at your question, pondering it momentarily before replying.
“I, uh, I’m not sure.” A nervous chuckle escapes his lips, expecting you to laugh at him. Instead, you smile gently and continue pouring water onto his hair. 
“I can tell.” The words contain no malice as you utter them, merely expressing an observation. Seeing that his hair was now thoroughly damp, you grab the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some out into one hand. Rubbing your hands together to form some bubbles, you move to start massaging the soap onto Buggy’s head.
“Were you born with this?” You ask curiously, referring to the cerulean color of his tresses. He raises his eyebrow at you, not expecting the question.
“I was.” Nodding as he speaks, his eyes continue to analyze your face as if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. You smile at him, continuing to lather the shampoo into his hair. 
“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your words are soft, making sure that his whole scalp is covered in suds. He scoffs at this, thinking that you’re making fun of him. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lower your gaze to meet his eyes, finding insecurity dancing through them.
“I’m being serious. I wish I had brightly colored hair, maybe purple or something. Guess I wasn’t so lucky.” Going back to massaging his scalp, he looks up at you, utterly flabbergasted. 
“You really think so?” He asks softly, timidity laced through his tone. You nod in response, a gentle smile on your face. Humming softly, the clown takes in the new information, wondering what else you think about him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the way your fingers carefully danced across his head felt incredible, not being able to remember the last time someone treated him so gently. 
Reasoning that his hair was thoroughly soapy, you dunk your hands in the warm water to get rid of the remaining suds and quickly dry them with a towel. Subsequently grabbing the cup, you fill it with water and begin to wash the shampoo out of his hair. He stares at you all the while as if he is trying to commit your face to memory. After all the soap is washed out, you squeeze the ends of his hair to rid it of any excess water and grab a towel to wrap around his head. Leaning back to get a good look at him, you smile, finding his curious expression cute.
“Now for the face,” you utter, moving to grab a fresh towel and the bar of soap. 
“Wait a second, you’re going to wash my face too?” asks Buggy, his timbre uneasy. You nod in response, replying in a steady tone.
“You’ve been wearing the makeup for so long that it’s partially gone.” Smiling at him softly, not expecting him to be so nervous. He laughs bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice.
“Can… can you just leave it?” His question is soft, and your surprise is visible on your face.
“You do know that leaving makeup on for too long is bad for your skin right?” You quip, trying to lighten his mood. Letting out a shaky breath, he shakes his head softly, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. Your smile drops, and you watch him for a moment, figuring out what to do next. His face paint seems to be a sensitive topic, and you don't want to push him too far.
“How about this,” you start, a kind smile returning to your face, “If you let me wash off this old makeup, I’ll redo it for you so it’s nice and fresh.” Sitting across from him calmly, you try to give off a safe and non-threatening aura to make him feel more comfortable around you. He stares at you for a moment, astonished that you would offer such a thing. You stay silent, patiently waiting for a response.
“You’d do that for me?” he asks after a moment, the surprise in his voice evident. You nod, making sure to maintain the soft smile on your face. “You’re in luck because I just got some new face paints.” Leaning over to open the drawer of your desk, you pull out a palette with every color of the rainbow on it and some clean brushes, holding them up so he could see. He tilts his head in response, trying to discern whether or not you were serious. After what feels like forever, he finally returns your smile and nods. 
“Deal. Can you make it match how it normally looks?” He looks up at you with a soft smile, secretly hoping that you’ll do a decent job. 
“Of course.” Grinning, you grab the towel and soap, excited that he’s letting you do this. You wet the soap bar, rubbing it between your hands to generate some bubbles, and gently start the wash the old makeup off his face. The clown continues to stare at you, though his energy is much more relaxed than before. 
“You’re really pretty,” he comments after a moment, causing your hands to falter. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you smile, taking a moment to meet his gaze. 
“You’re pretty too,” you mutter softly. Now that his face is mostly clean, you see a light blush begin to form on his cheeks.
“I’m nowhere near as pretty as you.” The confidence is back in his voice, and he winks at you flirtily. You can help breaking out into a smile, choosing not to say anything in response. He watches you quietly as you wash the soap off of his face. Unbeknownst to you, Buggy never let anyone see him without makeup, but something about you told him that he could trust you. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the view of your face being so close to his.
“Now for the fun part.” Grabbing the palette with one hand and a brush with another, you grin at him, excited to replicate his face paint. Truth be told, you loved doing makeup, but the only person who would let you do it was Luffy. There was one time Nami let you do hers, but it was after everyone else went to bed and she wiped it off immediately after. Your smile faltered at the thought of the orange-haired girl, and you remembered why Buggy was with your crew in the first place. The clown immediately noticed and looked up at you inquisitively.
“You okay?” He asks softly, already missing your smile. You nod and debate on telling him the truth, ultimately deciding that you should.
“I’m just thinking about Nami.” You force a smile back on your face, but Buggy can tell it’s not real. 
“That’s the girl Arlong took, right? Fiery personality with hair to match?” He asks, and the description of her causes a genuine smile to come across your face. You nod softly.
“That’s the one.” Staring at him with interest, you wonder if he’ll tell you Arling’s location since he clearly knows it.
“We both know I know where they are, and truth be told I had no intention of telling any of you, but something about you is special.” Your eyes widen at his words, was he really going to give it up that easily?
“He’s at Arlong Park, and I’ll bet she’s with him. I’ll take you there, as a thank you for all this.” You beam at him, ecstatic at the thought of saving Nami. It’s at that moment when Buggy decides your smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rush out, your excitement getting the best of you. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and nods, a smile on his face as well.
“Now be quiet so I can do your makeup,” you say cheekily, dipping the brush into the white knowing that it’s the base for his signature look. He laughs in response but has one last thing to say.
“Do you need me to tell you how to do it?” He looks at you as you shake your head, your smile still prevalent.
“I’ve seen so many of your bounty posters, I’ve practically got it memorized.” His eyes widen at this, and his grin gets bigger.
“Oh, do I have myself a secret admirer?” The clown asks smugly, and he notices the blush that falls upon your face. If he knew it was so easy to make you flustered, he would have done it far sooner, finding you absolutely adorable.
“Shut up and let me work.” You bark, your tone not holding any aggression. He laughs again but does as you say, and you begin to paint his face white. For once, he remains silent, watching you work. Before long, the base is done and you move on to the blue triangles above and below his eyes. You stay silent as your brush runs along his face, wanting to make it look perfect until a thought comes into your head.
“You know something?” He hums, prompting you to continue. “You have the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.” Said eyes widen, never having been told that before. Buggy silently thanks the universe for the makeup covering his face because he can feel the heavy blush rising to his cheeks. 
“Th-thanks,” he mutters quietly, not sure how to respond. You tilt your head at him, curiously studying his face. 
“You’re not used to receiving compliments, are you?” Smiling at him softly, you watch as he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Usually I’m the one giving the compliments.” He looks up to meet your gaze, partially expecting you to laugh at him. You do nothing of the sort, instead smiling at him gently.
“Well, that’s a shame because I think you’re pretty handsome.” You wink at him, wanting to make him feel more comfortable since flirting seems to be one of his pastimes. His eyes widen again, the surprise written all over his face. Without saying anything else, you finish the blue around his eyes and move on to the red, cleaning the brush and dipping it into the face paint. The clown stays silent as you work on the red smile around his mouth, internally wondering if you meant what you said. When you get to his nose, he tenses up, a clear indicator that he’s insecure about it. You make sure to be extra careful as you paint the red onto his skin. 
“I meant what I said, I do find you quite attractive.” His eyes search yours for any hint of insincerity but find none. The king of flirting himself is stunned into silence, feeling his heart flutter at your words. You say nothing else and go back to finishing the makeup. Deciding to observe your face while he had the opportunity, he notices that you stick your tongue out slightly when concentrated, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter. 
“All done!” You pull away proudly, assessing your work. It looks almost identical to his bounty picture, and you internally pat yourself on the back for your memory. Getting up to grab a mirror, you find one in the small dresser and bring it towards Buggy, holding it up so he can see his reflection. He looks in the mirror and instantly grins, impressed with your makeup skills.
“You know, you would be a wonderful addition to my crew.” You chuckle in response, not thinking that he’s being serious.
“You need a professional makeup artist?” You joke, internally glad he thinks you did a good job.
“No really, we could use someone like you.” His proposal shocks you, not expecting him to say something like that. 
“You don’t know me,” you speak quietly. He just smiles at you, taking in your beauty. 
“I know enough. You’re kind, funny, and great at makeup.” The clown winks at you, enjoying the surprise on your face. “I’ve also heard you are quite the fighter.” Smirking at you, he gives you a look that tells you he means what he says. You just stare at him in silence, having a hard time believing your ears. 
“So, sweetness, what do you say?” Gaping at him, you blink a few times, processing his offer. After a moment, you sigh, indecision written all over your features.
“I don't know, I’d have to leave the straw hats, and I’m not sure I could do that.” Surprisingly, his face softens at your words.
“Tell you what, let’s head off to save your friend and find my body, and then you can decide.” His smile remains soft, which is unusual for the clown. “I don’t think your current crew appreciates you. I mean, look at today, they gave you the task of babysitting me when you have so much more to offer.” Eyes widening at his words, you realize that maybe he’s right.
“Luffy appreciates me,” you whisper softly, though you’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.
“He might, but grass head certainly doesn’t.” You want to smirk at the nickname for Zoro, but there’s too much going on in your mind for your facial muscles to pull through.
“All I’m going to say is this, you’d have a real place in my crew, and not just on the bottom of the totem pole. Besides, I think you like my company just as much as I like yours.” He gazes at you, studying your body language, and you realize that he’s right, you do enjoy his company. You start nibbling on your lip out of nervous habit, and he picks up on it immediately.
“You don’t have to decide now, we can go rescue your friend first, okay?” He watches your shoulders visibly relax at that, and smiles in return.
“Okay.” You say softly, smiling back at him. “Your hair should be dry now.” Moving closer, you carefully take the towel off his head and giggle at the fluffy blue mess. 
“Thank the stars I have a brush.” Buggy chuckles at the comment and watches you grab the hairbrush with a smile on his face. Softly working through the tangles, you watch as his hair goes from frizzy to smooth. As you’re running the brush through his mane one last time, the door opens, revealing a shocked and somewhat appalled Zoro.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” Yells the swordsman, and you turn to him with a confused look.
“Well, you told me to watch him so I did.” You shrug, not liking the attitude coming from your crewmate.
“I said watch him, not give him a makeover! Did you do his makeup too?” The horrified look on Zoro’s face made Buggy laugh, not used to seeing the man lose his cool.
“You guys never let me do your makeup, so I had to improvise!” You bark back, crossing your arms. Zoro just stares at you silently, clearly having difficulty processing your kindness towards the clown. After a while, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“Whatever. Luffy needs him so we can find out where Nami is.” He mirrors your stance, crossing his arms.
“I already know where she is,” you spit, growing tired of the way he speaks to you. The swordsman scoffs, not believing you for a second.
“Oh, really? How?” A faux smile creeps onto his face, prepared to catch you in a lie.
“Because Buggy told me.” Zoro’s face drops and the man is stunned into silence. The clown immediately bursts into laughter, enjoying Zoro’s dumbfounded look. The green-haired man gawks for a moment, before moving his hands around, silently asking the question ‘how’.
“Because they’re nice and you’re an asshole,” Buggy says smugly, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if he had the rest of his body. You break out into a soft chuckle at this, which snaps Zoro out of his trance. 
“I’m not explaining this to Luffy, so you better take the head and go find him.” The swordsman scoffs again before leaving the room, shaking his head the whole time. Rolling your eyes, you move back toward the clown, mumbling to yourself while putting his hair back in a ponytail. 
“Don’t let him get to you, he won’t know what he has until it’s gone.” Buggy’s cheeky grin triggers your own, and you laugh softly, gently picking him up to go find Luffy. 
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©️ the-anxious-youth, 2023
Please do not replicate/repost :)
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vixenfoxpup · 15 days
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I need more dca fics to read, not just because they're all so cool and special and unique-
I want to collect their y/n's in my pocket, and bring back the y/nverse. All of them in a lil pocket dimension (the dca stay in their respective stories, this place is reserved for the self inserts and side characters/family to interact. The boys can have their own pocket dimension)
The y/ns live on the same street or apartment complex, being bunched into groups that are roomies
For example. Bamsara's Solar Lunacy y/n, Paper-Lilypie's CCRT y/n, and bones-of-a-rabbit's staffbot y/n. SB is there so CCRT can perform routine maintenance, plus CCRT can be a but messy, plus they could help clean up after ccrt's kids. SL is where, you may ask? Their room has been vacant for some time, but CCRT and SB keep it clean and regularly dusted, out of respect. They don't know if or when their friend will return, but they'll be welcome at any time.
Naffeclipse's y/ns share a suite, probably.
spadillelicious's LDR y/n could stay with saltciphblr's lovebug au y/n
Again, I need to read more to get a better feel of the different wonderful y/n's
This probably won't be uploaded, maybe someday, but this is mostly self indulgence that my brain has been blasting on repeat all day
Into the y/nverse, I raise you from the depths
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 11 months
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Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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essektheylyss · 6 months
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“Your delinquent child is outside, and I have assured him that he is very, very grounded.”
Between Yeza and the campers still waiting for their parents to arrive from around the coast to collect them, Veth wasn’t sure any of them saw her move between the dining room and the foyer before she’d thrown the front door open.
Outside, Caleb held Luc by the back of the vest, neither of them looking any worse for wear. Behind them, Jester and Fjord looked a bit sheepish, though not nearly as sheepish as her son, who had almost curled into himself beneath the venomous look she’d given him.
“I thought you were dead! You're never leaving this house again! I couldn't get in contact with anyone and I thought you were fucking dead!” she screeched, before any of them could move, but Luc almost kept pace with her, slipping from his godfather’s grasp and, to her surprise, likely to the others’ surprise as well, threw his arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Mom, I should’ve listened to you, I’ll stay grounded for as long as you want—“
Veth spluttered for a moment, though her arms wrapped around him in return. This had not been how he’d returned under Kingsley’s grasp, caught by the ear and cursing up a storm.
It took a long moment to realize that Luc was trembling beneath her grasp. Very faintly, but definitely trembling.
She looked over his shoulder at Caleb, then Fjord and Jester. “There have been… several lessons learned in the past thirty-six hours,” Caleb said, his tone even stonier than his expression.
Fjord nodded slightly in agreement, carrying the weight of agreement. Her grasp on her son tightened, and she kissed his hair. Her sharp tone felt empty and hollow even to her own ears.
“Don’t you ever run away again— Don’t you know what I’d do if you were killed—“
“I know, Mom,” Luc interrupted, and for the first time in weeks— months— a long fucking time— he didn’t sound petulant.
He sounded like her boy.
“I kept him safe,” Caleb said flatly, also without any defensiveness. There was, even for Caleb, a dark flame behind his eyes. It felt like a spark she hadn’t seen in quite a few years.
“He was very particular about it,” Jester agreed, and then, in a poorly-disguised whisper, “Trent.”
Veth’s grip tightened, and she pulled Luc aside, away from the doorway. “Come in, tell me all about it—“ she pulled back and checked him over as Caleb nodded and passed inside. “You’re all in one piece, you’re alright—?”
“Yeah, Mom,” he agreed, with exhaustion. “Uncle Deuce made sure we were all in one piece.”
Jester pouted as she passed. “I also made sure you were okay, alright, but Caduceus is so helpful, you know, and honestly, in the end, it wasn’t even that bad— we saved most of the town, and we had a great party, and—“
She stopped her rambling in the middle of the doorway and clapped both hands to her mouth as Luc ducked under both of them into the house.
“Oh. My. Gods, Veth, you will not believe— Fjord proposed to me—“
With the number of things Jester had just imparted to her, it was honestly a testament to her own intelligence that Veth managed to process them in time to turn to Fjord just as he started up the steps, stopping him in his tracks.
“You what? And I missed it—?!”
"You know, Jester, I think we can let Caleb debrief the Brenatto family alone—"
She had him by the ear before he could move, which was an impressive feat considering he was over half her height, but he was almost as slippery of a bastard as she was.
Within an instant, he'd turned to mist in her grasp and vanished to the other side of the street, Jester complaining behind her all the while. Veth shrieked after him. "You piece of shit!"
In response, he yelled, "That's soon-to-be Admiral Tusktooth-Lavorre to you!"
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darlix747 · 11 days
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MASKED FOOL AVENTURINE TIME BITCHES
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carus
a masked fool notorious for gambling with lives.
“all i do is lay down a bet. it’s out of my control if my opponent decides to lay down their life, isn’t it?”
a well known musical artist and actor, his associations are not known to the public. he seems to harbor animosity towards the ipc.
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snail-noodle · 4 months
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"my my my... what do we have here?"
you shivered in fear at the gigantic being before you. you and your cookie friends had tried your best to seal the rift in the tree with white lily cookie. however, your actions proved pointless. white lily cookie's powers were still too weak and your time had run out. you all watched in horror at the towering cookie grinning down from above.
"it's been so long since we've seen new faces! we were starting to get bored being by ourselves in here..." shadow milk cookie smirked as he took a look at each cookie standing before him. when his eyes had reached you, his gaze stayed far more longer on you than the others. you trembled from his piercing stare, a small whimper escaping from your lips as you backed away and hid yourself behind pure vanilla cookie.
shadow milk cookie chortled at the pathetic display. "Oh, how I have missed the faces of fear from you cookies! Never gets old!" now that the rift had opened big enough for him to pass through, shadow milk cookie stepped out of the silver tree that had kept him and the others imprisoned for so long. the smaller cookies screamed in terror as they scrambled to get out of his way. every footstep he took practically shook the earthbread beneath their feet.
"pure vanilla cookie!" fear clouded your mind as you tugged your leader's arm in desperation. "what are we going to do?!" anxiety gripped your heart when he hesitated to think of a solution. one of the most powerful beings in all of cookiekind has just been unleashed and is ready to bring chaos to the world once more. just how on earthbread will any cookie be able to stop such beasts?
before pure vanilla cookie could even think of an answer, you cried out in alarm as you were suddenly lifted into the air. the other cookies screamed your name as you watched their forms grow smaller and smaller. you gasped as you were face to face with the grinning jester.
"what a cute little cookie you are." he eagerly examined you as if he were a child that had been given a new toy, turning you this way and that. "it's been ages since i had a little pet to dote on. you'll make a fine addition to my collection!" your mind raced as you tried to understand what you have just heard. a collection? a pet to dote on? what on-?!
your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a snap of... fingers? confused, you found yourself locked inside some sort of bird cage; the bars were thick enough to keep you from escaping. shadow milk cookie cooed as he watched you attempt to break free. "no-!" you tugged and pulled at the bars keeping you in.
"no! y-you can't keep me in here! Please!" you cried out to him in desperation. shadow milk cookie only giggled and shook his head, "ah, ah, ah! you're staying right by my side, my little cookie." you shuddered in fear as he began to summon his powers once more. shadows seeped out from your surroundings and from his body. multiple cold blue eyes stared at you and the cookies still down below.
"now, my dear..." with a clap of his hands, monsters of every kind stepped out from the shadows, ready to obey their master. with a manic grin, shadow milk cookie spread his arms out in grandeur to the cookies below. with a perfect view from above, you could only watch in horror as your friends were surrounded at every side by monsters of different sizes.
"let the show begin!"
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wolfythewitch · 28 days
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sometimes I wonder how an interaction with my TMA sona, Jester (a spiral/Stranger avatar who is just a pile of sentient clothes and a smiling full face mask that occasionally just pilots around a corpse when he wants to pretend to be human) and Cain would go.
Cause like Mx. Water in your lungs vs. Mr. No lungs (or other organs for that matter)
(I would draw this but I can't draw to save my life.)
Contrary to popular belief he does not try to drown every avatar he meets 😔
But they'd probably just grin weirdly at each other for a minute before cain turns and walks away
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c-kiddo · 1 year
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this is canon btw. cad did their top surgery for them :-3 they can use the magic paint to make the boobs blue i guess lol
[image ID: a digitally drawn comic of caduceus, fjord and jester from critical role. in the first panel caduceus is saying "time for your fantasy wildmother top surgery" to fjord who's in a hospital bed with an excited expression, and jester hugging him shouting "good luck, fjord!". the second panel is after the surgery and caduceus saying "hey fjord, the surgery went great btw. how are you doing?" to fjord, who is dizzy and saying "ooh. good." he's in a bed with a compression vest and bandages on his chest. the third panel is a close up of fjords face with a worried expression saying "wait, where's jester?" and caduceus replying "who do you think took your boobs?". the fourth panel is jester in a hospital bed with a mischievous, pleased expression and the outline of boobs under the blanket. there is a trans flag behind her and she's thinking "win." End ID.]
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cookierunauprompts · 4 months
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AU Prompt #4 💓
It had been oh so long since you last saw your love, how long had it been now? You lost track, but it certainly must be a high number. It's a miracle that you haven't crumbled yet, but it doesn't look like you've aged at all this you were 'freed' from his tower. You had originally been placed there for safe-keeping, after all with a cookie that made himself a new enemy every day ever since his corruption who knows who would go after you to get back at him. You knew him from before that too, and yet you still stayed because you loved him. Even now, you still love him. So maybe that's why you begged Gingerbrave and Co to take you with them to Beast Yeast, you'd heard that that's where he and the other Beasts were being held... At least, you think so. So when you saw him again, those gigantic blue eyes locking onto you like a kid seeing that their favorite candy bar was back in stock at the candy store. You couldn't help but feel like your little cookie heart wasn't going to be ready just yet even after all these years. " Oh my little Star~!" He'd excitedly squealed as he scooped you up into his ever-so big hands, much to the horror of your friends. " It's been ever so long since I last saw you~!"
....
Or, an AU where you(or an oc if you want) were Shadow Milk Cookie's lover before he got sealed.
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coolcoolcoolbutwtf · 2 months
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Joker junior isn't the only kid in the joker's gang anymore.
Harley: This is your new babysitter I mean older brother, You know Mr.J and I can't just spend all our time with you Junior. Why don't you and Trixter get yourselves introduced while playing somewhere away from here, Kay bye!
Trixter(Danny): ...
JJ:...
Trixter(Danny): I like your nails they are pretty.
JJ: *growling and hissing*
...
Harley tugging the child leach with junior in it: it don't bite.
Danny: Yes it do!
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catching up on the kabsmp videos rn and i'm having normal person thoughts as usual anyway did you guys ask for a crazy ass idea on where i think the storyline is gonna go because i have a crazy ass idea on where i think the storyline is gonna go (this is gonna get long sorry in advance)
In Which I Lose My Mind Over Some Guy's Minecraft Persona In A Goofy Ahh Lore SMP
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cover image for sillies
So. Hear me out. Clown is still the overarching villain of the series. Whatever's happening with Kyle and the void is still """""important"""""" n stuff, but (totally not because i'm biased or anything (i totally am)) that's all a red herring covering up the real threat. The idea I have rn is that Clown is biding his time and finishing up whatever research he had on the void, then when Kyle is defeated, he's gonna swoop in, take the void for himself, and become basically unstoppable which'll lead into season 3 or smth.
Bits Of Info That Makes The Pepe Silvia Meme Cover Relevant
Time to be insane and dump every single bit of potential evidence on why I think Clown's a bigger threat than the others think he is, starting at the very beginning (i'll try to keep this as chronological as possible but i'm busting my brain trying to piece everything together i watched this so out of order at first).
First, obviously, is the whole him killing Pyro bit and betraying him to get to Rae, then killing everyone in the commune. hoWEVER bro just casually tore open a portal to the nether and back and none of the other people in the group can do that. It's kinda hinting that Muu knows how to make portals but other than that the original s1 group has been stuck there since the start (which maybe suggests Muu isn't from this dimension also but that's another thing to unpackage).
a side note here: lincu came from an end portal that clown made for maddy and they NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN????????? WHAT
In the Pyro POV that came after that, it was heavily suggested that Clown was originally a conqueror or insanely destructive pillager (not the actual mob) (like come on, "bow before the scythe emblem" or whatever the words are? just write your name in the book you're practically screaming it at this point). Then, when Branzy showed up in that cameo episode, he didn't shut up about how Clown destroyed entire villages and killed a fuck ton of people (i will scream more about this point in a second 😁).
In the Season 2 opener animatic, he dropped his manipulative buddy buddy act the moment the void appeared, stabbed Kaboodle, and fucked off. He was also shown going full aggro on Magic, trying to get information about the void from her. A little while later, he's shown reading books on the void and finds something "perfect" for whatever he's planning (brain explosion).
Looping back to the Branzy cameo, it was revealed that he, Branzy, and Ashswag worked together in a laboratory somewhere in a different dimension researching and experimenting with portals. Ashswag said that Clown pushed him into one they made, which resulted in him glitched out and broken (WHICH OPENS UP ANOTHER CAN OF WORMS ARE THEY SUGGESTING THAT THIS IS ALL ACTUALLY JUST A SIMULATION/GAME LIKE HOW MINECRAFT ACTUALLY IS???????????? holy shit if i think about this for too long i'm gonna have another huge scream fest again).
and THEN in the most recent one as of today (aka A New Issue) it's revealed that Pyro had his suspicions that Clown is otherworldly and unnatural. Bro casually soloed a 100-Piglin invasion. I already had the thought of "oh yeah this guy's definitely not from any of the three dimensions" but the only contradictory thing that popped up for that was he and Pyro used to live together for a bit with the Waste Walkers. HOWEVER with this new information that Clown was just this anomaly that popped up periodically in their group, he's practically screaming that he's not from any of the three dimensions.
BASICALLY. I'M VERY NORMAL RIGHT NOW.
i love overcomplicating silly lore as a pastime
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sinnabee · 9 months
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INGREDIENTS:
2 cups evil boredom
3 teaspoons (heaping) blorbo poison (powder, not liquid)
1 daycare theme (10 hour loop)
1/3 cup brainrot
*1/2 cup distilled back pain
**(un)diagnosed mental illness
*(any kind of pain works, back pain is usually what i have on hand)
**(if you aren’t a fan of the flavor a diagnosis leaves, undiagnosed will work in a pinch! Personally, I like to add a bit of both.)
INSTRUCTIONS:
First, turn on the daycare theme (10 hour loop) and pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees.
Sift together your evil boredom and blorbo poison in a medium sized bowl.
Add in your pain of choice and mix well.
Once thoroughly mixed, it should be looking a little thicker. Some granules from the evil boredom and blorbo poison are fine. (You can always mix further, if you’re worried about it affecting the texture.)
Add your brainrot and beat with a whisk until it’s looking lighter, a little fluffy. (If you aren’t in the mood for fluff, a dash of angst or hurt/comfort can help tone it down. An AU if you really wanna spice it up.)
Realize this is turning out a lot better than you thought it would. Dang. Well, you’re certainly committed now.
Go ahead and get out a glass baking pan. Coat the bottom with non-stick spray. (I tend to favor Y/N brand Nonbinary Spray myself)
Using a baking spatula (one of the rubbery bendy ones), carefully move your mixture from the bowl to the pan. It’s alright if you get some on the sides, the heat should help it settle once it’s in the oven. To get out any air bubbles, tap the pan (carefully!) a few times on the counter.
Place the pan in the oven and set a timer for 15-25 minutes, or take a peek every now and then and see if it’s the right shade of cheerful.
Congratulations!!! You’ve successfully survived evil boredom, despite the hurdles you faced, and made something! (Pretty tasty too, if I might add.) You are still mentally ill, though. But - hey - now you have a little treat! And hopefully, your day’s just a little bit brighter! Enjoy!
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a-kind-of-merry-war · 6 months
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A Jester's Token
HEY SO. I wrote a thing. Based on @oblivionsdream's Knight/Jester OCs, who are SUPER AMAZING, which you can find here.
Thank you for your wonderful art!! And also accidentally inspiring a jester obsession in me 🤡
No warnings, contains a little suggestiveness, 3.4k words 💖
*
The grounds were alive with activity. The King doted upon his sons, and now with his second eldest’s twentieth birthday only a scant few days away, the celebrations were in full swing.
The prince, as was his wont, had demanded a tournament to celebrate the day of his birth. The King, as always, had been unable to refuse. And the Knight was looking forward to a week of respite; of celebration and jousting and fun instead of training and war council meetings.
Typically, he tried to remain impassive and stoic with his fellow knights. It was what was expected of him as the King’s champion, after all, and besides: it added an edge to his demeanour that meant orders were obeyed. The other knights weren’t to know that beneath his shining, shuttered helm he was wondering if the stable cat had birthed her kittens yet.
Still he kept his head high as he strode across the grounds, heading towards the armoury where he had left his sword that morning to be honed and polished. Several other knights turned to glance at him as he passed: one, he noticed, standing immediately to attention as he did.
The deference was useful, he supposed, but he hoped it did not extend to the tournament itself. It would be a dull affair if everybody he encountered was afraid of the King’s champion knight.
As he approached the armoury, a familiar noise perked up his ears. He found his steps faltering, his sure stride suddenly broken.
Not everybody was afraid of him.
He turned just in time to see the grinning face of the Jester as he sauntered over, his motley - brand new for the tournament in festive greens and reds - lit up in the dazzling summer sunshine. His hair haloed from his head, sticking in yellow waves from beneath his cap’n’bells. His eyes - startlingly bright, one dark, one nearly gold - shone with excitement. 
“Good morning, Sir!” he said cheerily, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
Lovelier for you, the Knight didn’t say.
“It is indeed,” he said. “Perfect for a tournament.”
“Perfect for a party,” the Jester countered. “I called into the ale tent on the way here, have you seen how stocked it is? Forget the tournament, I fear our Lord means to drown us. Can you swim in that?” he pinged a fingernail against the Knight’s plate.
The Knight rolled his eyes, forgoing a response.
“Although,” the Jester continued merrily, “I must admit, these events always make me laugh.”
“Oh?”
“Come,” the Jester said, “Oh ho - here I am, the picture of virile manhood! Beware my powerful—” he gave a short, sharp thrust. “Lance.”
The Knight bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “You have a filthy mind.”
“You should hear me talk about maypoles.”
“I would really rather not.”
“I can do some wonderful things with ribbons, you know.”
“Anything useful in a tournament?” 
“Depends what you need,” the Jester said, catching him with a sidelong glance. “I’m very good with knots.”
The Knight swallowed, saying nothing.
“Well!” The Jester said, clearly unphased. “I am afraid I am wanted by— well, by everyone. Which makes it such a shame that I’d rather spend my morning following you around. Nevermind.” His smile twitched a little, before settling back into a grin. “Good luck, my Knight!”
And with that, he was off. The Knight watched him leave, swaying through the crowds with his typically fluid movement. While the Knight would be entering competitions, the Jester would be entertaining in a much different way: joking and turning somersaults and charming the King and his guests. He even had a role in the joust alongside the announcer, riling up the crowds and mocking the competitors.
With luck, the Knight would be able to watch him perform. He enjoyed watching the Jester show off, and he loved his jokes, not that he would ever allow the Jester himself to realise that. The first time they had met he’d been forced to remove himself lest he make an utter fool of himself, and since then the Jester had taken him as a challenge, when he wasn’t making a game of flirting with him.
With a sigh, and a final glance at the Jester’s departing figure, he walked on towards the armoury. He noticed Sir Rowan lingering just outside, standing beside Lady Felicity - one of the Queen’s Ladies in Waiting. Without thinking, he called out a greeting to his fellow knight.
As he approached, he realised far too late that what he thought was simply a polite conversation between knight and lady was something far more intimate. Sir Rowan’s head was tilted just so, Lady Felicity leaning in a little too close. Their hands, he realised, were linked.
Shit. But it was too late now; he had already hailed Sir Rowan and he couldn’t very well turn heel and run. Lady Felicity quickly snatched her hands away, her face mottling in a sweet, pink blush before giving him a slightly lopsided curtsey, bidding them both farewell and quickly rushing off. 
As The Knight drew closer, he noticed a scrap of fabric clasped in Rowan’s hand. He pretended not to have seen it as Rowan quickly tucked it into his breastplate.
A favour, then. He hadn’t realised that Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity were courting; although most of their time spent together would have been at banquets and feasts, where the Knight’s attention was more often than not focused on their entertainment and very little else. It was terribly improper to ask Sir Rowan for more information. Even as his friend, he would not push for information too intimate to share; certainly not while Rowan and Lady Felicity were still in the first, tentative steps of the most delicate of dances. 
He engaged Rowan in brief conversation, deeply aware of the moment he had managed to ruin. He wished him good luck - making him blush - then headed inside the armoury where he collected his sword.
He couldn't help but peer back as he left. Rowan, now alone, had taken the favour from his breastplate and was tugging it through his fingers. It appeared to be cream-coloured silk: a handkerchief or scarf, perhaps. Rowan's face had gone red.
Something tugged in the Knight's chest. It was a sweet, deeply romantic gesture. It would leave Rowan with no doubt at all about Lady Felicity’s intentions towards him. And, of course, it was furiously lucky: any man blessed with such a token would be sure to do well, especially from one they loved.
The tugging grew more urgent, joined by a leaden feeling in the Knights stomach. He would have no such token. Oh, he was sure that many members of the court would accept him should he attempt to woo them - courtly favours included - but it wasn't any of them he really wanted.
“I would rather spend my day following you around.”
The Knight’s face heated beneath the metal. His heart swelled. Whatever the Jester’s intentions towards him, his feelings were not the sort that spurred a man to give a love token. His were the feelings that spurred a quick fumble behind the stables - perhaps several quick fumbles, judging by the lewdness of the Jester’s tongue. It was no more than that.
Or, more likely, it was even less than that. The Knight was aware of the reputation he had carefully curated at court, and he knew that the Jester had taken him as a challenge. He was just another joke. The Jester had never even seen his face, hadn't seen the scars, didn't know the stories behind them.
He was just teasing.
The Knight tried to shake the thought from his head, fluttering the great plume that burst from the crown of his helm. Chasing such thoughts - be they of fumbles or fools - would get him unseated in the joust and begging for mercy in the duel.
He turned towards the stables, trudging down the muddy path. The earth had been turned by the sheer volume of guests and carts and horses, and was now a sucking, muddy mess. 
There was an oddly metallic clink beneath his boot. He paused. He lifted his foot. In the centre of a perfect footprint was a mud-splattered, but unmistakably golden, bell.
There was only one person who wore bells like that.
The Knight picked it up without thinking, desperately wishing he had something to clean it with. He rubbed off as much muck as he could with a fingertip, watching as it glinted in the light. As he turned it in his hand - terribly small against his huge palm - it jingled merrily.
He swallowed and closed his fingers around it, squeezing it tight.
The stables would wait. As a high-ranking man, he had been given a private tent on the edge of the grounds - somewhere he could clean and rest without traipsing through the castle to his chambers. He headed there, pulling the flaps tight shut behind him before unfurling his hand.
The bell had left a neat little indent in his palm. A curving, teasing smile embedded into his skin.
He placed it reverently on the wooden table at the far side of the tent before shooting a final, nervous glance towards the entry. And then he removed his helm.
The air felt cool and good against his burning cheeks. He shook out his hair, tied into a low queue to keep it out of his face, and stared down at the bell. It felt as if it were the only object in the room; perhaps the world.
Mindlessly, he took the cloth he used to tend his sword from the chest beside the table and gently began to clean the little golden thing. Mud had even managed to get inside the bell, and he carefully cleaned away as much as he could until it was shining and jingling once more.
He rolled it in his palm. It felt hot, like a tiny lump of coal, like a nugget of forge-warmed iron.
The Knight thought of Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity.
He would need luck, after all. Skill he had in abundance, but luck? Luck was harder to judge; a tip of the scales that, at present, could fall either way.
Of course, traditionally, a token needed to be a gift. But many Knights - both in tournaments and in battle - found luck where they could snatch it. A sword that had never slipped from their grasp, a tunic worn during a lucky win, a shield taken to war that deflected a killing blow. Perhaps a bell - so small and yet so weighty - could be like those. It was luck, after all, that helped him find it when so many people had stepped over it.
He turned back to the chest and searched through it until he found what he was looking for; the spare ties he kept on hand in case his snapped during the tournament. He typically used them to fasten his gauntlets, and while it was thin the leather was tough and sturdy: perfect for what he needed. Carefully, he threaded the bell onto the strap, ensured it wouldn’t slip off and then twisted the strap around the hilt of his sword, securing it tight.
The Knight gave the sword an experimental shake. The bell jingled against the hilt. He didn’t bother to suppress his smile: it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. The noise set a thrill through him. He would be the first to admit that he was not a musical man, but the ringing of the little bell felt like an angelic chorus just for him.
Besides, he thought, as he sheathed the sword once more: if it didn’t bring him luck, the noise may distract an opponent long enough for him to land a good hit.
He took a few moments to gather himself, taking a long drink of water from the jug atop the table, wiping down his face, and re-tying his hair before donning his helm once more. He pulled on his gloves, too, and now with his hand now gripped tight around the hilt of his sword, he exited the tent.
Outside, the noise was growing more urgent as more people gathered to watch the show. Now buoyed by the token hanging from his sword, he strode with pride towards the centre of the grounds where he intended to take part in the first single-combat duel of the day. It was likely still a little early, but no doubt he wouldn’t be the only one keen to begin and could at least find someone to spar against to pass the time.
He was dodging around a lad from the kennels and a pack of exuberant dogs when he heard a shout from behind.
“Knight! My Knight!”
He hastily shoved his sword behind his back as he turned, watching the Jester bounce across the field towards him. 
“I need your skills,” he said, as he slid smoothly to a halt beside him.
“Oh?” The Knight was glad for his helmet, now: the jester couldn’t see him blush.
“Have you seen a bell?” The Jester tugged at the frontmost horn of his cap, which was indeed bell-less. “I’m missing one.”
The Knight gripped his sword harder. He could feel the distinct shape of the bell through his gloves, praying it would not ring and give him away.
“No,” he said, his face so hot he was amazed his helm did not begin to steam, “I cannot say I have.”
“Oh.” The Jester gave him a crestfallen look that was so heartbreakingly sincere that for a moment, the Knight nearly relented. “I suppose it will turn up… or the King will fund me for another, I am sure.”
His eyes darted down, as if taking the Knight in for the first time. His expression turned dark. The Knight found himself standing a little straighter.
“And where are you off to, my chivalrous wonder? That’s—” he peered around the Knight’s back, “—an extremely long sword you have there.”
The Knight rolled his eyes, not that the Jester could see the gesture.
“You have realised,” he said, keeping his tone even, “where we are, yes?”
The Jester gave a dramatic twirl as if assessing his surroundings. “We are standing in the mud,” he grinned.
“Typically,” the Knight said, ignoring him, “A Knight takes part in a tournament. I intend to test my luck in the duel.”
“Luck?” The Jester said, “Not skill? Although—” he gave him another of those long looks, “—I suspect you have plenty of skill in swordplay.”
He gave the Knight a tight, cattish smile, his tongue wetting his lips as he waited for the Knight to respond. The Knight, once he had finally regained control of his lips, could only manage a single word.
“Quite.”
“Well,” the Jester grinned cockily. “I would surely love to see you in action. Lead on, good Sir Knight.”
The Jester looped his hand around his arm, gripping him tight. The Knight was utterly unable to resist, lost in a sudden moment of deep regret that he was so armoured, unable to feel that touch against his skin. 
Arm in arm they headed across the grounds towards the ring. The Jester joked and chatted and flirted as they walked, commenting again on that marvellously large blade, but the Knight could barely hear him over the rush of his own spinning thoughts.
He kept his free hand gripped on the sword, over the bell. The Jester couldn’t know.
The Jester finally released him as they reached the ring. Even though the touch had been to the plate steel of his armour and not the skin beneath, the Knight still missed having him hanging from his arm.
“You better win,” he said, stepping back. “There are a dozen other things I could be doing right now, and I refuse to tie my lot to a man who cannot even win a duel for me.”
The Knight’s heart stuttered in his chest. For me. The Jester was watching him, expectantly. And then his eyes widened, as if remembering something.
“Of course!” He said, face splitting into a grin. “You need a token. As you said, to give you luck enough to win. Ah— here…” he reached up, and before the Knight could stop him pulled another bell from his hat. “What’s another bell?” he said with a shrug. “I was lopsided anyway. Here…”
He produced a silk ribbon as if from nowhere, quickly looped it through the bell, and tied it with swift, dexterous fingers to the Knight’s belt.
“There,” he said. “I told you I was good with knots. Now you’ll win.”
The Jester stretched up on the tip of his bell-topped toes, placed a hand to the Kight’s shoulder for balance, and flicked his helmet’s plume with a single, long finger.
“Good luck.”
And with no warning at all, he placed a kiss to the warm metal of the Knight’s helm. Beneath, the Knight felt as if he could no longer breathe, his heart launching a battle of its own.
“I…” he said, gathering himself. “Thank you.”
The Jester gave him another grin, trailing a finger across the spot where his lips had been moments before.
“You’re welcome.”
***
The Jester leaned casually against a stack of crates, watching the Knight perform with genuine interest. The interest, of course, had very little to do with the fight itself - he wanted him to win, sure, but the minutiae of the fight were nothing compared to the strength of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, or the exceptional noises he made when he struck a particularly good hit.
He fiddled mindlessly with one of the horns of his cap as he watched the Knight take another decisive swing. A hint of gold glinted through the air as he did, catching the light like a comet.
The Jester grinned to himself. No wonder his Knight was being so stiff as they walked towards the ring. What a sneaky little secret; not the sort he had come to expect from him. It was amusing, and quite sweet, too. Anyone would be lucky to have the Knight be their champion, to have him take their token. But the one he had chosen - the one he had taken for himself - was little more than a minstrel’s bell.
He was glad he had stumbled upon the thought to give him a token himself. Now the Knight would know that he would have given him one, had he asked, and even better: now he had twice the luck.
The Knight swung around again, the bell jingling, harmonising with the one the Jester himself had tied to his hip.
Thrice the luck, the Jester thought, if you counted the kiss.
The Knight ducked, dodged and lunged. The Jester watched, lips quirked into a smile.
When the Knight won - a feat which did not surprise the Jester at all - he straightened up, set his shoulders, and looked towards him.
And then his helm snapped down, taking in the hilt of his sword and the bell hanging from it. The Jester was almost surprised that he couldn’t see the Knight blush through his helmet.
The Jester too glanced downwards to the hilt of the sword. He let his gaze linger there. Then he dragged his eyes up, up the Knight’s body, over his chest, to the place where he desperately wished he could properly see his eyes.
He heaved himself away from the crates and waved. The Knight sagged, only a little. A small moment of recognition and relief. A spark of understanding, shared between them.
But the Jester could not stand there all day, no matter how much he wanted to. He shot the Knight another grin - his best grin, saved just for him - blew him a kiss, and swayed away towards the ale tent.
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belligerentbagel · 4 months
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welcome to caleb’s katzencafé
for @youcancallmekathyp (from her fic!) through the @widojestsecretsanta
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crabsnpersimmons · 3 months
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Happy valentines day!
happy valentines day to you too!
i didn't plan any art for valentines day (besides my gift for the valentines secret santa event), but here's a little hairdresser Sun i drew as a pre-class pick-me-up this morning (added some heart stickers to make it valentines-y):
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