#one piece fanon

[loganwritesprobably]

On a similar note to the previous post

I'm working on collecting together some of my favourite Cross Guild fanon additions (e.g., popular fruitwani names, the idea that they have a barn/stables, named guild members like doctors/cooks)

If you have any fics/authors you love or have versions of the guild/island/surrounding islands etc that you would consider canon to you, or would like to shout out (or yourself) - let me know!

[empressofmankind]

I know Robin is supposed to be fluent in the fantasy Linear B of the poneglyphs, but in the context of my increasingly complicated headcanon, where Croc (and Shivs) find her early on as a 14-year-old, it is much more interesting (and funny) to me if the reality of that ability is more akin to an eigth grader's grasp of English after their first few lessons. Most of it is from historical poneglyphs (they were archaeologists, after all) and mostly useless in the context of super secret weapons of mass destruction. We're not telling them that, though!

Which then caused the related notion that Robin, a tween-going-on-teen in the majority of my ship's main story real-estate, understandably considers herself crucial to everything going on and basically the Chosen One in her own life. "You need me and my special gift but I hate it here and I wish I was normal" she teen rages against her faux adoptive parents made out of literal water and sand, respectively. You can see why that fell flat, I am sure.

This ties directly into the notion that the infamous paperwork Sir Crocodile appears to always be doing isn't actually accounting of any sort. He's just been pouring over the same twenty-something rubbings of poneglyphs trying to pull a Ventris on this fantasy Linear B. After all, we've been deciphering dead languages and ancient scripts without the providential presence of magical teenager who happen to be able to read them fluently for some time now. The texts are few, but there's plenty poneglyphs and fragments out there, so we might accumulate more (and they do, several plot points in several WIPs), and they already know the context of what the critical text is supposed to be about which is a massive help. Because, the irritating part of deciphering a language, is that you need to already know what it is probably saying, to be able to figure out how it is saying it.

But I digress.

Anyway, Croco spending hours and hours pouring over those documents because that's what it takes (and is still taking, raising one for those still tackling Linear A). But as the whole looking-for-battleship-of-mass-destruction is supposed to be a secret, the minute someone enters his study he pulls his agenda and creditcard statements over it. And thus the eternal paperwork impression was made.

Shivs knows about all of this and goes along with it, apparently. He's so focussed on finding this magical-mythical ship and, she's a pirate, she's down with finding this franchise's Flying Dutchman (or Black Pearl?) What am I saying, she's a pirate helmsman, she'd LOVE to sail it, lmao. Mass Destruction whomst? Lets sail this baby into the sunset!

I digress. She Indiana-Joneses around Alabasta every so often, I am sure. I can see that in exactly the way I cannot see Croc crawling through any sort of dusty old tomb looking for new shards of frustratingly indecipherable ideograms for him to start smoking more heavily over.

What I am saying is that I've never been partial to Crocodile being a Big Stupid and that I am getting increasingly invested in him actually being a closet academic. I have a weird spin-off of the Mummy franchise in my head in which Shivs is Rick and Crocodile Evie.

APPARENTLY.

No, I wasn't really going anywhere with this, I just needed it off my chest. @tiredemomama is busy.

You're welcome.

[orbis2d]

I love the ASL dynamic of

Portgas D Ace, a son of two people with the will of D/the Pirate King

Monkey D Luffy, Grandons of Marine hero Garp the Fist and Son of the most Wanted Man Alive, Dragon the Revolutionary

And Sabo, a nepobaby, poor by choice and keeping up with the other two by just being a Freak

[fluffyartbl0g]

If you asked me to describe them in one picture it would be this

Here’s the scene in question ^^^^ ITS SO GOOD ITS SO GOOD ITS SO GOOD

And here’s the exact screenshot I redrew

[landofartandcraft]

I REALLY like them OKAY

They are so funny together and it's so obvious they care even if they can't stop bickering like a pair of silly dudes

[miaiminnis]

give me something pretty to wear beneath my bloodstained clothes

darling, the devil knows my name 🥀🗝️🦩🗡️💃

[jetsskeee]

old art I did months ago

[antari]

zosan... zosan is so good for my health. Two equally powerful guys in the middle of the sea. THEY ARE EQUALLY STRONG AND EQUALLY GOOD PEOPLE!!!!!! they're kind hearted and care for their crew's safety more than anything. THE WINGS OF THE FUTURE PIRATE KING.

And like... I like the enemies trope just as much as the next person but my god if their rivalry isn't a 100 times more wholesome than if they simply just Hated each other's guts and called it a day + sanji's fucked up past and over +1000ch worth of canon story fills the angsty quota more than enough, allowing creators to come up with the craziest yet in-character fan content you could ever imagine

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Black Hearted.

when the heart wants what it wants, someone’s bound to get hurt.

✩ roronoa zoro x f!reader

✩ warnings & tags : smut & angst, thick, black coded reader. established affair, no happy ending, degrading names (slut).

you held your finger up to shush the green haired, muscular swordsman that knet before you, his hair cock in your other hand, your eyes traveling down as you sucked on the swollen mushroom head.

the two of you were in the sunny’s observatory, keeping watch while the rest of the crew rested. which was a perfect opportunity for you to finally relieve your desires, the deep want to have the pirate hunter’s fat dick in your mouth.

your throat burned when you pushed him further into your mouth, but hearing his low moans and grunts only encouraged you to take him deeper. slobber pooled down the sides of your once-glossed mouth and ran down his veiny shaft. a mixture of your spit and gloss dribbled onto his deep brown balls.

you slurped, gagged, and sucked his eight inches until he finally released his warm seed into your mouth—which you happily swallowed before pulling him into a kiss. he welcomed your tongue into his mouth, tasting the remnants of himself, while your tongues danced with each other.

you could feel his dick jump against your clothed bottom, your arousal grew. “can i ride you, baby?” you purred into zoro’s ear, kissing and sucking on his broad neck, worshipping the exposed skin; while you grinded against him.

“only if you can keep quiet, you know how loud you can be while you take me” he chuckled, in between a groan; while you stimulated his sensitive cock.

“just so he could hear us. you know i love the thrill,” you bit his ear lobe, while he pulled your panties to the side underneath your skirt and pushed his sticky tip into your sopping wet entrance; earning a stifled moan from you.

your pussy clung to his cock with each stroke, squelching, and creaming around him; while he held onto your waist—ass clapping against his tan legs. and just like he predicted, your mewls and moans were loud—but you couldn’t help it, he knew exactly how you wanted to be fucked. just hearing you moan into his ear was enough for him to plunge even deeper inside of you, making your cling to his shoulder; biting his green shirt, with your eyes rolled back into your head.

soon, his very own eyes clamped shut; while the two of your bodies moved in sync with each other—orgasms both brimming at its peak, until reaching its end. your walls clamped down around his hard middle, riding out your orgasm at a fast pace; while he released his thick warm load inside of you.

you stayed like this for a while, catching your breaths; before he pulled out of you, with a small dribble of his nut following.

“it’s almost sunrise. he’s going to be up soon~”

“more reason for me to stay like this,” you sighed, basking in the moment once more before you got up and pulled your panties back to its right side, before leaving the swordsman in the observatory.

while the sun rose and morning finally shined in, you hopped in the ship’s bathhouse before everyone else, to wash off the scent of zoro; hiding your sickening secret once again. walking into the dining hall for breakfast, you were greeted by your crew and your loving boyfriend; sanji. he kissed your cheek and you swallowed your guilt like it was nothing, before sitting down to wait for your meal.

“hey luffy, we are we off to next?” chopper squeaked, jumping with excitement about their next adventure.

“some island, hopefully with lots of food. hey! has anybody seen zoro?” your ears perked up at the mention of him and the remnants of this morning flowed into your mind, causing you to press your thighs together. you must’ve had a weird expression on your face because sanji noticed it and asked if you were alright.

“oh im fi—“ your words were cut short as zoro walked in. he was shirtless, with a towel draped over his shoulders and his tooth brush hanging in his mouth. just like usual sanji and zoro picked a fight with each other about something so simple, but you tuned it out like usual; too turned on by the tan swordsman.

this affair wasn’t intentional. at least, that’s how it started off. you honestly don’t remember how it initially started, but you know you couldn’t stop fucking him. and you weren’t trying to hurt the blonde cook, you liked him and he loved you. something’s just happen. at least that’s what you told yourself.

the ship finally docked on an unknown island and most of the crew went together to explore; except for you, zoro, franky and sanji. the cyborg and chef decided to stay near the shore to fish for lunch and look after the ship, while you and zoro snuck off deep into the woods, to get off a quickie.

you lips were like glue the way they were stuck to one another, neither of you wanted to break it. he had you pressed against a tree, dominating you with his lips. after seeing him this morning and watching his muscles flex and protrude; you had to have more of him. you body needed him.

he was the first one to pull away, pressing his forehead against yours; while his fingers found their way underneath your flowy green dress—playing with your wet folds.

“so fucking wet. i turn you on like this, baby?” his panty wetting voice was deep, making you drip even more onto his fingers. your pussy began to squelch, driving the five foot ten male insane. he pushed his khaki pants down, along with his black briefs; freeing his slick coated penis.

“lift that leg up for me, momma~” you did as you were told, letting him hold you up by your legs—making it easier for him to enter you. he didn’t even let you adjust to him, pounding your cunt silly with his cock; your smooth walls clamping around him with each stroke.

you loved his dick. you craved his dick every second of every day. he was made for you and you for him.

“f-f-fuck….zo-zo-” you stuttered, too fucked out to even formulate a sentence. every time you were in his arms and filled with him, you were practically cockdrunk. he always made you feel drunk from his cock the way he would dig your guts out with each stroke and hitting your g-spot at the same time; was a skill no other man could posses; especially sanji.

“this my pussy? huh? this my fucking pussy?!” he groaned, gripping your ass while pounding harder and deeper inside of you.

“yes! yes! fuck~” you moaned into his ear, nibbling on it softly. the feeling of an orgasm creeped up on you and you closed your eyes; anticipating the feeling of it exploding inside of you.

“i love you. shit, cumming deep in this pussy.”

“i love you t—“ the sound of someone’s throat clearing scared you, forcing your eyes open to a face you did not expect to see. a few feet away from you was the male who’s heart you just broke, standing there with a tray of drinks and a cigarette in his mouth. you pushed zoro away, fixing yourself before you approached sanji, but before you even could; he turned away.

“lunch is finished, we’re about to board the ship too.” he was cold, his tone calculated as he walked away before you could even call him. you felt zoro’s hand touch your shoulder, which you shrugged away. you weren’t in the mood for him right now, especially after what just transpired.

“sanji! please, let me explain!” you yelled out, jogging to catch up to the cook; leaving zoro with blue balls.

for the rest of the day, sanji ignored you. he wasn’t trying to hear your apologies and if he needed to speak with you, he would do it indirectly so the rest of the crew couldn’t question what was going on between you two. zoro on the other hand was his usual self, sitting back and observing while he napped. from time to time he would check on you, watching how you handled the situation.

and then nightfall hit, and you were scheduled to keep watch with sanji. perfect, it was the perfect time to talk to him and he couldn’t get out of it either. when he climbed the ladder to the observatory and saw you sitting on the plush blue sofa, he sucked his teeth and pulled out a cigarette. he stood on the far end side of the room and stared at you, piercing your skin with his soulless eyes.

“sanji, look…I never meant to—“ as the lie flew out of your mouth, sanji couldn’t help but laugh at you, making you frown. you weren’t even going to continue with it, you were going to downright admit everything.

“look, i was never in love with you. not like you were with me. i accidentally fell in love with zoro, it wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it did.“

“it did? that’s all you have to say? you did the worst thing possible, but what can I expect from a slut?” you craned your head to the side and it felt like slow motion; they way you walked in front of sanji and slapped him—hard. tears brimmed your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, he didn’t deserve them.

“im the slut?! you don’t think i notice you coming in and out of nami’s room when you thought everyone was sleep? sniffing her panties like some perverted creep? the moans coming from her room almost every night? didn’t think I knew that, did you?” there no more trying to be the bad guy anymore, he was just as wrong as you were.

he couldn’t say anything, not after his secret affair has been put out in the open. “i don’t know why i was so okay with me being the bad guy, when you’re just as guilty as i am. hurts don’t it, slut.” you couldn’t stay in the room with him any longer, those tears started to make way down you face as you climbed down the widow’s peak—mind racing with everything that transpired.

he was the reason why you cheated in the first place, he couldn’t keep it in his pants—making it easy for you not to fall in love with him. he did this, you just played his game better.

and when you finally reached the bottom, your one eyed love stood there waiting for you. but, you couldn’t face him—not today, or tomorrow. you had to leave. he followed you all the way to your room, but was met with the door slamming in his face. you ignored his calls, fighting the urge to open up the door—until he finally went away.

as night fell, you ignored your crew knocking on your door trying to see if you were alright; but you all gave them the same answer. nothing. you spent the whole day packing your things and writing a letter; before you finally escaped your room and tip toed across the deck. you snatched a compass from the ship, and dropped a boat at the edge of the ship—jumping on it and sailing away.

and when the crew finally awoke and found your door wide open with nothing it; they had began to panick—until zoro found the note you had left for the crew and read it out loud. you apologized to them for leaving and not finishing your journey with them, but telling them that this was for your own good. you ordered them not to come after you, no matter how much luffy wanted to.

the crew were upset and saddened, wondering what caused you to leave. they started to question sanji, but he said nothing and lit his cigarette; leaving the room afterwards. they left your room not too long after, to come up with a plan to find you—leaving zoro alone in your room. he had found another note you had left with his name on it and as he read it, his heart panged in his chest.

you told him how you were pregnant and positive it was his. you had known for some time now and didn’t have the guts to tell him. you told him that you loved him and apologized for how things turned out, but you would always love him. and would tell your child about him everyday.

maybe this was just another thing you were guilty of.

[quadrantadvisor]

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

-

Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,” Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

[julissart]

First time drawing Kaya? Most likely

I loved her new outfit but, since we don't have official colors, I just went with the vibe

My OP Fanart Masterlist here

[empressofmankind]

You know what tickles me right now?

The notion of Arabaste's paparazzi getting wind of Shivs' return and going absolutely Hollywood crazy over it. Just these typically completely inane stories.

"You'll never believe who isn't dead! Where has she been? Who is that guy she's with?! Read the shocking truth now!"

Buggy seeing blurry photos of himself and Shivs in these tabloids. They're all getting his name wrong, of course. In giant letters on the covers, to add insult to injury.

This is a feature Buggy, not a bug!

The longer it takes for Crocodile to figure out who you are and where you two are holed up, the better.

"You didn't tell me you're famous!!" Luffy, no doubt, grinning broadly. Everyone else is worried their cover is blown to a billion tiny pieces now.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Reminder for the dpxdc writers!

Yeah I know lots of us get canon and fanon confused and some never watched Danny Phantom which is why I’m going to *friendly remind everyone* that if you don’t want to use the Ghost King Danny thing, it’s—it’s fanon. Like. You do not need to go out of your way to make it Not A Thing, if you find it’s hindering your plot line or whatever. You don’t have to write around it. At this point, you might need to clarify it’s not something you’re doing, since it’s so common, but like—if I have to read one more plot where they’re twisted up in knots to avoid it, like. Pls. You can do what you want and that includes this, we already disregard canon all the time, you can buck common fanon as well I’m—

That’s not to say I’m against Ghost King Danny, but I’m starting to think it’s one of those things people are afraid to stray from because they think it’s it’s one of the more… pillar parts? Of Danny’s character and canon? When it’s, like, not. If you want to write in reasons why he’s not king and etc etc you CAN, it’s your story and maybe it even serves your plot or tone or you just want to, but you can also just not even have it be a consideration. You’re free to just not do it.

[the-goblin8]

Yes... I have this headcanon where Kamala Khan is a One Piece fan, and on Friday afternoons she invites Bruno to her house to watch a few of the thousand episodes that One Piece has.

[unrelatedsideblog]

Do you think if Zoro saw Sanji had some swordfighting skills (referencing to fight Sanji vs that noodle dude on the sea train) he would try to learn some kicks? And fail miserably-

[daily-one-piece-stim]

3/?

Shuggy Breakup - Shanks & Buggy (Ep 1116)

🌦️ ⛈️ 🌆 🌊 💔 🌧️ 🤝 🌊 🩸