#robin ransom

[midnight-scrivener]

Ahoy, ye ghouls 🏴‍☠️

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[coolcoolcoolbutwtf]

Death of your values and destruction of yourself

"Well would you look at that. The little robin tumbled out of its nest has it?" Shego's voice echoed playfully in the warehouse.

Robin jumped slightly, almost unnoticeable. flinching? No, he didn't just flinch he jumped. Shoulders tense already in a battle ready stance.

Danny paused in his approach. His head tilting because, Just what in the ancients names was he wearing and why was it familiar? That armor those colors that copper orange covering half of it.

What was up with Robin?

While Shego was busy wracking his mind about what could possibly have happened in the short amount of time he had left. Robin was subtly looking around but flinched when the wooden boards creaked from under Danny shifting his weight.

He hadn't just flinched in surprise but he jumped in what, fear? Of him, since when? " The glorified green secretary? " The Titan brats called him that so often that even the press picked it up! He was a highly qualified respectable henchmen!

Shego jumped down from his previously hidden perch atop the wooden crates. Coming out of the shadows behind Robin.

The kid's tense shoulders tensed even further quickly twerling around birdarangs no X's flying at him! Shego ei Danny dodged quickly. Ducking his head and got closer instead of away from Robin.

Shego who used to be Danny phantom. The phantom menace and a teen ghost hero immediately knew that something was seriously wrong with Robin. Something was up with the bird brat.

Because Shego would also behave like that when the status quo changed. When the status quo with roughs changes and suddenly all the shaky unsaid rules with roughs change.

Heroes and villains dance a dangerously deadly delicate tango with each other.

So when the villains suddenly start doing the macarena together you know shits about to be, well weird if not deadly.

And it's when Shego's countering Robins high kick that he finally recognizes just what it is the kid is wearing. The whites of shego's mask narrow and just for a second his grip on the teen fist hardens. For the split second it does Shego pulls the kid close to his face. Both of their white slit mask covered eyes meet.

It's a mother fucking Deathstroke mini suit. Danny feels like he's about to burst a fucking vain.

" Kid do you have any idea about what that suit means? " Shego says it calmly, levelled. He doesn't shout in his anger but oh how Danny desperately wants to.

The child remains silent but he has stopped his fighting to get free. It's quiet for a beat and when it's clear Shego won't get an answer.

" It means destruction Robin, It means death."

. . .

[ghost-bxrd]

Tim can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

He thought— the Tower was bad enough. He hates being kept out of the loop, especially for “his own protection”, but he never thought—

It is Robin who had been threatened. Robin that Batman had been taunted with. Enough times, and with grisly enough descriptions of what might happen to him, that Bruce sent Tim to the Titans as a last ditch effort to keep him well out of reach of Gotham and its newly minted crime lord.

But Hood took Bernard, and Tim can’t breathe. Can only stare at the grainy picture from an unknown number, showing his boyfriend tied up and gagged in someone’s— Hood’s, probably, oh god— bed.

Tim wants to throw up.

Please god, please no.

— sneak peek of “Modern Day Cain”

[artiswhatartdoes]

saw this joke somewhere and thought, now who does that sound like?? wrote this initially as a tim drake robin, but it works just as well for a damian

[elliewlums]

𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝟒𝐤 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲!

this is sooo overdue but thank you all so much for 4k! i love you all more than life <33

𝐜𝐡𝐚��𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 (𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝): joel miller, tate langdon, tasm! peter parker, tangerine (bullet train), eddie munson, steve harrington, jim hopper, robin buckley, henry creel, max mayfield, lucas sinclair, mike wheeler, billy hargrove, billy knight, tom grant, aemond targaryen, aegon targaryen ii, daemon targaryen, alicent hightower, ajax petropolus, bucky barnes, loki laufeyson, pietro maximoff, thor odinson, matt murdock, frank castle, rafe cameron, jj maybank, james potter, remus lupin, sirius black, cameron frye, peeta mellark, finnick odair, love quinn, fred weasley, draco malfoy, mattheo riddle, theo nott, ron weasley, aaron hotchner, spencer reid, daryl dixon, rick grimes, lip gallagher, any sebastian stan/chris evans characters + any poly!variations of these characters!!

send in your requests from the list below (under the cut) and they will be posted in one week. on sunday 19th february.

tagging some moots for reach! @reysorigins @buckyshattergirl @balenciagabucky @arakhnee @1800-fight-me @tvrgvryen @meadowscarlet @lucasnclair @munsonslilbunnie @mulletboystan @twl1ghtdollz @oldtowrs @oncasette @punk-in-docs @fleurfairie @wanturvideo @buckycuddlebuddy @buckyshattergirl @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @gxtitobxby @chainsawmunson @creelteeth @vampieteeth @morwap @jamespottersmommy @justsheerfilth1 @jannqt

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞… send me a character from the above list + any au and get a blurb! (eg: rugby!james, vampire!eddie, old money!steve)

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧’ 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲… send me a prompt from this soulmate au list + a character and get a blurb!

𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲… send me a prompt from this ‘ways to say sorry’ list + a character and get a hurt/comfort blurb

𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡… send me a dark!au concept + a character and get a blurb!!

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧… send me a kink + a character and get a smutty blurb!

[martyrbat]

do you ever think about how people traded the analysis of what happens when you're given the mask and titled of a hero at such a young age freshly after the most traumatizing day of your young life (instead of spending years rawly and painfully just yourself and that its your face thats fighting and training and working to better yourself before you even consider the idea of operating under a masked identity) and that you spend so much of your life immediately in this larger-than-life, mystical disguise to the point you can't live without it and your reflection makes you flinch because who are you without the mask, without being useful, without channeling all that raw grief and anger and sorrow into something that's considered good? they traded the idea of a child being given this opportunity and both the way it saved and destroyed him. they traded the idea of living your life to serve others and be needed and be a willing martyr because you never learnt how to live without that bandaid over a gaping wound for... a guy that talks like hes on a disney after-school special and someone that has to be told hes the specialest boy and be reassured every fucking comic

like this is a late and very tired run on sentence of a post so my apologies in advance for not being very succinct but?? so much of his character is now reduced down to hes not like bruce (whos bastardize in comics AND fanon regularly) so you WILL forgive me for using him as a direct comparison.

bruce wayne had to be dragged off the sidewalk and away from his parents corpses as bruce wayne. he made a vow that he wants to prevent others from ever hurting like how he hurts as bruce. he trained as bruce. he discovered and formed batman after at least a decade of experience and training. he didnt go into it with the idea of being batman – he went into it as a traumatized child and then young man trying to help others and stop crimes.

dick grayson had a brief moment of just being that hurt child and the fury that came with his grievance. why him? it isn't fair. hes going to avenge them. directly them, just his parents, that was the first goal. then canon shifts about in how/when he did confront zucco and when his goal shifted to be help anyone that needs it but regardless, he was given his mask SO young and early. he was given it. he didnt discover it and earn it first. he earned to wear and keep it, absolutely! hes worthy of wearing the mask and being called a hero, dont get me wrong. but he became robin SO fucking young to where he didnt have time to JUST be dick grayson. he didnt train and prepare and learn as dick grayson, it was always under the goal of being robin. as a result, he built his entire life on being that masked hero. he didnt become a young man as dick grayson, he aged and became one as robin instead and then as nightwing. he grieved his parents and his dead brother and lost friends as said hero. after every single tragedy in his life, he only learnt to keep living with some type of mask on instead of with his own reflection and feelings now he doesnt know how to operate outside of being the hero everyone looks to for support or acceptance. he doesnt know how to live and operate outside of crises mode because the second he does, hes afraid he'll have to confront his actual feelings and wellbeing and that he'll learn he isnt worthy or strong enough to be this hero. its to where most of the people in his life are people that knows he was/is robin or nightwing because at this point, dick grayson is his secret identity instead.

i hope everyone that writes dick grayson like THAT dies and goes to hell no matter what

[tewwor-moving]

tag drep

[stove-top96]

Better In the Dark

Synopsis

Y Platonic Batfam x GN Meta Reader

Featuring: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

0.8K

Just an Idea I had while writing Chapter 3 of water colour eyes. I’m definitely gonna write Chapter 1 soon (maybe this weekend). Let me know what y’all think. I’m in such a writing mood lately so stay tuned for other Ideas and more one-shots.

You really didn’t mean for it to happen, but your mistake never warranted such an extreme reaction. You were careless, relying too much on your powers rather than the proper technique when fighting. if it weren’t for Robin you probably would’ve died. Still, they've all had near death experiences. What makes you any different? It seems like overnight everything’s flipped 180, they’re all more extreme, more obsessed. Don’t they understand your civilian life doesn’t include them? Why are they so goddamn insistent?

For Bruce it was like reliving the same nightmare. Watching helpless as the goons put that power inhibition collar on. Unable to do anything when they struck you over the head. The same helpless despair pooling in his gut from when he watched his parents die, Jason die and now you. This cycle of watching the people he cares about die is one he thought he broke free of, clearly not. While he sits there by your hospital bed, the beep from the heart monitor is the only thing that keeps him going. (Y/N) (L/N) he swears to you that he will never let anyone ever hurt you again.

It was different for Dick, he knew you looked up to Nightwing, to him, Even so he wasn’t there that night. Your hero, the one you aspire to be like, wasn't even there to save you. He’s pathetic, what kind of symbol is he when he can’t even protect the people close to him? He wasn’t even doing anything important that night, he was watching Netflix for god's sake, on a supposed “rest day” while you were giving it your all. He doesn’t deserve to be your hero, you’re too good to him. He knows you’ll say “it wasn’t anyone’s anyone’s fault but my own” deep down he knows the truth. He’ll give up anything to make it up to you, to be someone who deserves to be looked up towards.

Jason was scared. He knows what it’s like to put your trust in others only for them to not be there. Bruce did it to him, but now he’s done it to you. He’s become exactly what he despised. He doesn’t let just anyone grow close to him, but your kindness and authenticity was different, you weren’t fake to him and your kindness started to rub off on him. You were like his sibling, you brought light into his life, and he was supposed to protect that, protect you. He doesn’t know what will happen once you wake up. Knowing you, you won't blame anyone. But will you truly forgive them for not being there? Will you blame him?

Tim was the closest to you. Both of you being similar in age, and sharing a sense of humour it was hard not to get along with you. You were able to match his intellect, and even saved him a few times when Tim Drake was kidnapped and held for ransom (not that you knew it was him). Even more than that, you understood him more than anyone else did. You both started being vigilantes at around the same time, but unlike you Tim only became Robin because no one else would, and you never blamed him for that you also understood Batman needs Robin. When saw what happened he didn’t know what to do. He Joked with you earlier how Gothams became so tame, he should have seen this coming, it was too quiet. He has a plan of action for everything, yet when it mattered he froze. Sure it was only for a few seconds, but that’s life or death. He’s Lucky, you lived. If you didn’t, it would be his fault. How is he supposed to live with himself after such a drastic mistake?

Damian’s perspective changed. You were never on the same level as him, but he thought he could hold your own. It’s clear that belief was a mistake, one that almost cost you your life. you’re weak, someone who just happened to be meta. you’re not like him or the others. You’re meant to be protected, to stay at home while he fights. It was his blind trust in your abilities that you ended up in that bed. He’s grown careless, you made him that way. Your laugh had an uncanny ability to make him feel at ease, he’s never felt so seen by a person before. It was easy to lower his guard around you, a trait of yours he both cherished and envied. He won’t make that mistake again, he knows what he needs to do to ensure you stay protected.

Silence fills the Batcave, the family can do nothing but stare down at you. Unable to do anything but relive that night, they promise nothing like that will ever happen again. They will make sure of it.

[fanaticsnail]

How They Kiss

Masterlist Here

Word count: 200+ x4

Synopsis: four very different kisses with your favourite one piece characters. Small drabbles for four different scenarios.

Notes: I needed to write some kisses. Just some sweet kisses with our favourites. I adore writing kisses. There needs to be more kisses. This is me procrastinating. Art link

Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @i-am-vita @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix

Aggressive Passion

Zoro, Kid, Killer, Doflamingo, Buggy, Crocodile, Luffy, Roger, Garp, Arlong, Lucci, Nami, Alvida, Ikkaku

Hands heaped in bunches clutch behind your head, fistfuls of your hair scrunched firmly against your scalp. Each moment you attempt to pull away and gasp for air, they're back on you and holding you firmly while their lips latch themselves desperately against your own.

All raw, all passion, all encumbering; consuming all of who and what you are and forging their claim upon you by the brutality of their embrace. Should you struggle to flee from their vice-like grip, desperately in need of a reprieve; their relentless tongue enters your mouth and captures your essence while simultaneously molding themselves into you.

When a small amount reprieve is granted; their lips find your jaw, your chin, your neck, and your shoulders. Wandering fingers scrape and claw at your back as your body is held at ransom to their vivacious lust. They have to claim you, they have to showcase their ownership of all that you are, they have to demonstrate to all surrounds that you are theirs and theirs alone.

Their lips write threats on your skin, and their raspy, lustful voice growls between bites, licks, and kisses.

“Mine,” their voice growls in a predatory rumble, their intentions not only convincing you, but themselves, “All mine.”

Silent Romance

Mihawk, Beckman, Rosinante Corazon, Rayleigh, Law, Shanks, Marco, Aokiji Kuzon, Robin, Vivi, Boa Hancock

Eyes glazed before shrouded beneath their fluttering eyelids, their lips caress yours with more words than lips could ever speak. A whisper calls to you, beckons you in as they rotate their chin to deepen their tantric oscillation.

Their hands wander up to cradle your flesh, gently raking the brush of their fingertips over your exposed skin before dipping beneath your shirt to seek out your body heat. Soft calls of their unspoken plea to open yourself up to a little more, they pull away from your lips to brush their nose and nuzzle their forehead against your own.

Your eyes flutter open, noticing their eyelids are partially cracked and gazing at you with longing. Their bruised lips softly upturn, their squinted smile showcased in the corner of their eyes. Anchoring yourself against them, you reignite their desire by pressing your lips once more to theirs.

As they part their lips, you feel the furrow of their brow in deep concentration, wrapped up in sharing the small carving of their personal bliss painted against you. It was portraiture, mapping your lips with their own and tasting the brushstrokes within each small change in momentum.

They whisper a call of your name, as their lips hover over yours. Their eyes hold more emotion than their words could ever speak.

Desperate Longing

Sanji, Ace, Shachi, Penguin, Helmeppo

The final lunge towards you held you captivated and in awe. Hands gripped at your waist, hips stapled your body between the hard surface of the cool floor, and the warmth of their body caging you beneath them.

Their warm tongue darted out to dominate and consume your own, breathy pants and whimpered whispers pleading a chant of, “More. Please more.”

Your hands reach up to caress their cheeks, hovering over the subtle dips and grooves you have mapped from memory. As they groaned through their struggle to claim more of your flavor over their palate, you met their desperation with only reciprocated passion.

Tugging at their hair has them whine against your lips. A strangulated groan followed by a roll of their eyes in bliss as you rolled them beneath your body with expert skill. Placing your hands beside their head and dipping down, you pressed an equally overemphatic kiss against their bruised lips.

Breath stolen from their lungs, heart beating with anxious rapidity, and hands wandering and roaming over your body; you bit, licked, caressed and sucked on their lips, jaw and neck as they cried out for you.

“Please,” they sniffed a soft sob, gasping their plea with the call of your name, “Please, I need more. Let me have more.”

Nervous Uncertainty

Usopp, Koby, Katakuri, Sabo, Franky, Hongo, Uni, Jimbei, Bartolomeo

A soft quiver in the corner of their lips, their brows elevated into a peaked triangle centralized to their forehead. Your eyes were darting between theirs, watching them wordlessly begin leaning in towards you.

Stuttering in their momentum, they hover their staggering lips over your own and their breath brushes against your skin. What felt like an eternity to them, they waited the turn of your cheek to reject their advance.

Your lips draw up into a broad smile, your eyelashes flutter as you lean in to take that final plunge and meet their lips. A shocked gasp is pulled from their throat, your smile only making their nerves spark with more intensity.

A hum of surprise fled from their lips the moment you parted your mouth to brush your tongue against theirs. Caressing their cheek, you support and guide them to make bolder movements. When their right hand finds your left, they interlace their fingers within your own while drawing their left hand to your hips.

What started with a steady and unsure stagger quickly sprung to more deliberate and intentional movements. They deepen the kiss with an angle of their chin, the brush of their nose and several open presses of their lips on yours.

“I don't do this often,” their voice quivers out their hushed confession, “But I want to keep doing this with you.”

[midnight-scrivener]

@kingriverglass Missing you brother. I CANNOT believe it's been 3 years jeSUS

Some set photos from Drag Me Back to Santa Carla! Featuring me, @therandomsim, and Berto, one of our cinematographers!

[munson-blurbs]

Inspired by this TikTok. Thank you to @lesservillain for the idea and to @emsgoodthinkin for brainstorming with me!

Summary: Eddie jumpscares you one too many times, and so you decide to freak him out at work. But who will be more shocked: him, or you?

Warnings: fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, idiots in love, brief description of (fake) gore, joke about throwing up (doesn't actually happen), kissing as a joke (please only kiss w/ consent irl)

WC: 1.3k

It was just a joke. 

A joke that had started when Eddie had barged into your house—the man wouldn’t knock if his life depended on it—and proudly announced, “I got the job!”

The job in question was a haunted house performer at Hawkins’ annual Fall Festival. You’d both been going since you were kids, and his favorite part had always been the haunted house. 

He’d gotten word about his new job in early September. By mid-October, you’re fully sick and tired of his antics. 

“Boo!” he’d yelled as he jumped out from behind the Wheeler’s couch, making you leap out of your seat. 

“Raaahhh!” he’d growled in your ear while you were in the midst of a conversation with Robin, and once your heartbeat returned to normal, you flipped him off. 

His enthusiastic “Gotcha!” during your history quiz was the final straw. You’d yelped, actually shrieked in the middle of class, clapping a hand over your mouth as Mrs. Click glared at you. 

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” you’d hissed once you’d turned in your exam, growing more irritated when he’d just shook his head. 

“You can’t scare me,” he retorted with a smirk, leaning up against a locker. “You’ve never been able to freak me out, and you never will. Don’t even try, little girl.”

Challenge accepted. 

You spend the rest of the week wracking your brain for ideas. What is Eddie Munson afraid of? What will shock him?

The obvious answer is hiding a prized possession and making him think it was stolen or lost. You grin to yourself as you picture him frantically searching for Sweetheart; maybe you could leave a ransom note of sorts. 

But that plan has too many moving pieces, so you scrap it. You’re about to give up entirely when Robin inadvertently gives you an idea. 

“You guys coming to Steve’s party tomorrow?” she asks in between bites of her turkey sandwich. 

“I’m down,” you eagerly agree, itching to have a night out with friends. 

When Robin turns to Eddie, he shakes his head. “Gotta work,” he reminds her, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the spooky nature of his job. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “Fine, okay. Stop by after. I promise we won’t make you play spin the bottle again.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, cheeks redden, and he gets up from the lunch table without another word. 

Bingo. 

The plan is set: on Friday, before Steve’s party, you’ll pay Eddie a visit at the Fall Festival. It’ll be a visit he’ll never forget, you’re sure of that. 

Robin stands with you outside the haunted house, picking at a funnel cake with powdered sugar-coated fingers. “I’ll wait out here,” she promises, “but when you’re done, I wanna hear everything. Especially the look on his face.”

“You got it.” You shoot her a thumb’s up as you jog up to the bored-looking attendant taking tickets. 

You’re in. 

The first room just sets the tone. Eerie organ music pulses through an ancient sound system, and a fog machine creates a steam that prevents you from seeing the floor. Cobwebs hang in the corners of the ceiling, though you’re suspicious that they’re not intentional decorations. 

Eddie’s not in the next room, either; just a woman wearing a blood-spattered wedding dress, wielding a knife and clutching a plastic severed head. She’s screaming something about, “teaching him not to cheat with a bridesmaid,” and looks vaguely annoyed that you’re not quaking with terror. 

You go through three more rooms, getting increasingly irritating with the lack of Eddie in each one. He’s working tonight, so he has to be here—

Loud, stomping footsteps follow you into the dungeon-themed section of the house, and your heart skips a beat as you lay eyes on him. A distorted mask covers his face, but his unruly curls give him away despite the mad scientist costume he’s donning. He holds up a knife and creeps closer, a low growl emanating from his throat. You run until you no longer can, and he easily traps you, the cold metal gate pressing into your back. 

If you’re going to do it, now’s your chance. 

In one swift motion, you turn him so he’s backed up into the gate. A soft, confused “wha—?” leaves his lips as you lift his mask and lean in before you lose your nerve. Your lips press against his; hands on his cheeks as he accepts the way you melt into him.

Why isn’t he pulling away? Why isn’t he laughing and appreciating your prank? Why does it seem like he wants this…like he’s BEEN wanting this?

Fuck. Fuck. 

This isn’t what you were expecting. He’s kissing you back, surprised but hungry, and you’re the one who ends up breaking away. 

Before he can begin to question what’s happening, you dash out of the room. No. No, no, no. Your head spins as you attempt to process the emotions pulsing through your veins. 

It was supposed to be a way of getting him back for his unwavering desire to scare you. Show him what it’s like to be the one on the other side of the joke. Because that’s all it was; a joke. 

So why do you want to kiss him again?

Fresh air hits you like a slap in the face, and once you find Robin, you cling to her like a lifeline. 

“We have to go,” you mumble, dragging her to the exit and refusing to make eye contact. 

“Whoa, what happened?” When you refuse to answer, she sighs but doesn’t relent. “C’mon, did he, like, throw up or something?”

You shake your head. “I think he liked it.”

“Of course he did,” she says with a laugh, “the guy’s in love with you.” She nudges your hip with her own. “Toldja he would lose his shit.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Robs…when I said that I wanted him to ‘freak out,’ what did you think I meant?”

Robin crinkles her nose. “Um, that the Dingus-ette—that’s you—and her doting Dingus were finally going to admit that they have big, stupid crushes on each other?” Her expression falters when you stop in your tracks. “What did you mean?”

“I wanted,” you start, swallowing hard like a gob of peanut butter is stuck to the roof of your mouth, “I wanted to get him back for scaring me. I wanted to freak him out.”

“Mission accomplished.”

She’s no longer looking at you when she speaks, and you follow her gaze to where Eddie’s shuffling over to you. You want to beg her to stay, but she just squeezes your hand in a silent good luck. 

“Hi.” Eddie’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. “Can we talk?”

You can only nod in response. His mask is atop his mess of curls, and you can see the longing in his eyes. How have you never noticed it before? How did you not notice the need within yourself?

“Actually, I’m lying. I don’t want to talk.” With that, his arms pull you into him, torsos pressed together, and he’s kissing you. It’s like a missing link in a chain you hadn’t realized was broken, and you allow your hands to drape over his shoulders. You can feel him trembling slightly as he deepens the kiss. 

“You okay?” you murmur against his lips. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he answers, ducking his head behind his curtain of hair. “Guess ‘m just a little freaked out that this is really happening.”

A smile twitches at the corners of your mouth, and you lace your fingers with his. 

“Good.”

--

[thebunnednun]

Sweet dreams!~ Trafalgar D. Law x Wife! Reader (Modern Au)

Prompt: Hear me out, Law with a girlfriend who has Narcolepsy. Ya know, just like Ace who keeps sleeping randomly.

Dearest, @orange-milky

You ask, you shall receive! I made a few changes with it. I hope you don't mind.

Another request for Follower Fridays! If you have a fic request go ahead and send it to me to see it pop on Friday! 

Art was found here.

On with the show!!~

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some quick college major headcanons: 

Monkey D. Luffy - Sports Science or Physical Education Roronoa Zoro - Martial Arts or Kinesiology Nami - Meteorology or Economics with a minor in Business Marketing 

Brook - Music or Performing Arts

Usopp - Engineering or Fine Arts Sanji - Culinary Arts

Tony Tony Chopper - Medicine or Veterinary Science Nico Robin - Archaeology or History Franky - Mechanical Engineering Jinbei- Marine Biologist or Environmental/Human rights activist

Trafalgar D. Water Law - Medicine

Bepo - Environmental Science or Zoology Shachi - Marine Biology

Penguin - Engineering or Naval Architecture

Ikkaku - Pharmacy or Chemistry

—------------------------------------

You and Law didn’t meet in the most conventional way. 

—-------

Law stood at the entrance of the bustling campus cafeteria, scanning the area for a place to grab a quick lunch. Amid the crowd, he noticed a girl passionately discussing a book with a group of friends. Her energy and enthusiasm were captivating, and for a moment, Law found himself intrigued.

As he watched, she suddenly stopped mid-sentence and began to sway. Her friends reached out, but before they could react, she collapsed onto a nearby bench, sound asleep. Law's curiosity piqued. He approached her friends, who seemed unfazed by the incident.

"Is she okay?" Law asked, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

One of her friends, a short-ish guy with fluffy black hair, turned to him and smiled. "Yeah, she's fine. She has narcolepsy. It happens sometimes." He tried to swipe her pizza before a tangerine haired girl slapped his hand away. 

Law nodded, filing away this new information. He glanced back at the girl, now peacefully napping, and felt a strange pull to learn more about her.

—--------

A few days later, Law found himself in the library, buried in research. He noticed the same girl from the cafeteria asleep at a nearby table, a stack of books around her. He approached quietly, debating whether to wake her.

Just then, her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him, slightly disoriented, but quickly recovered. 

“The fuck-”

"Hi, I'm sorry I startled you."

You reached for your purse as he placed an unopened gatorade on the table and motioned to the chair across from you. Remembering him from your biology class, you nodded and decided to let him sit, hand still on your pink stun gun. 

"Law," he introduced himself, taking a seat across from you. "I saw you pass out in the cafeteria the other day."

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, that happens a lot. It's part of having narcolepsy."

Law nodded, his curiosity deepening. "Must be challenging."

"It can be," you admitted. "But you learn to manage. And my friends help out a lot!"

“I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t feel comfortable seeing you alone and asleep.” 

'Awe, okay maybe he’s a gentleman.'

You smiled, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Well, at least if I get kidnapped, I'll be well-rested for the ransom negotiations."

Law took a sip of his coffee and immediately choked, nearly spraying it everywhere. He coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Okay, that's... that's one way to look at it," he said, laughing and wiping his mouth. "I guess I'll have to stick around to make sure they demand top dollar for you."

You giggled before hushing yourself when you saw the librarian round the corner. “So sweet to drive up the asking price." You saw a genuine smile flick across Law’s lips and decided to let him stick around. 

As they continued to talk, Law found himself drawn to your resilience and positive outlook. You had an infectious zest for life that Law couldn't ignore. So, over the next few weeks, you and Law grew closer. 

Turns out you had the same major and classes!

He made it a point to learn more about narcolepsy, wanting to support you as best as he could. You spent time studying together, going to coffee shops, and exploring the campus.

—----------

Park Bench:

One afternoon, Law was walking through the campus park when he noticed a familiar figure sprawled on a bench. He chuckled, recognizing you immediately. You had a book resting on your chest, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dappled sunlight.

"Dreamer," he called softly, sitting beside you. He gently removed the book and adjusted your position to make you more comfortable.

Just then, Luffy and his friends passed by, noticing the scene. Luffy grinned, giving Law a thumbs up. "Taking good care of [Name], Law?"

Law rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. "Yeah, Luffy. Always."

Eating:

During lunch, you and Law sat with a group of his friends. Mid-conversation, you suddenly slumped forward, asleep on the table. Law sighed, used to the sight, and gently lifted your head, placing a folded jacket under it as a makeshift pillow.

Penguin and Shachi, who were sitting across from you, exchanged amused glances. "Hands full?" Penguin questioned with a chuckle.

Law smirked. "You have no idea."

Drive-Through:

One evening, Law decided to take you out for a quick dinner. As he pulled up to the drive-through, he started to place the order when he felt a small weight hit his shoulder. Glancing over, he saw you had fallen asleep, your head resting against him. 

He sighed but smiled fondly. "Yeah, can I get two cheeseburgers, one with extra pickles, and a large fries with an apple pie?" he said, already knowing your order by heart.

TA’ing a Classroom:

During one of your lectures, Law received an urgent text from Professor Garp. He hurried to the classroom, finding you asleep at your desk. Your student’s were giggling quietly, but Law's concern was evident.

"Dreamer," he whispered, gently shaking you awake. "Time to go."

You blinked up at him, embarrassed. "Sorry, Law."

"It's okay," he said softly, helping you gather your things. "Let's get you somewhere comfortable."

He picked you up like a small teddy bear and shuffled you out of the door. You gazed up at him, your eyes soft and affectionate. "I must really trust you if I keep falling asleep around you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper before sleep pulled you back under. 

Coffee Shop:

You and Law were enjoying a quiet afternoon in your favorite coffee shop. As he was engrossed in a medical journal, he suddenly felt your head against his shoulder. You had fallen asleep, your coffee cup still half-full.

The barista, Sanji, who knew you both well, smiled and whispered to Law, "She’s out again, huh?"

Law nodded, carefully shifting you into his lap. "Yeah, she is." 

Later that evening, while watching a movie in Law's apartment, you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder. Law softly adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable. He watched you sleep, admiring the lovely girl he hadn't expected to drop into his life.

The next day, You woke up in Law's room, covered with a blanket. ‘He must’ve taken the couch.’ You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest. The first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. Law knocked before walking in, holding a cup of coffee. His hair was slightly tousled, and his eyes softened as he saw you awake.

"Morning," he said, handing you a warm mug. The steam rose gently, carrying the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You sat up fully and pushed yourself against the headboard, your fingers brushing against his as he steadied the mug.

"Thanks," you said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through you, both from the coffee and the gesture. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Law said simply, his voice low and sincere. "I care about you."

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, a gentle smile spreading across your face. "I care about you too, Law. Thanks for understanding."

Law smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"Get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

—-

It had been a few months and you were now dating. One day, during a particularly stressful exam period, you expressed your frustration. "I feel like such a burden sometimes."

Law looked at you, his eyes serious. "You're not a burden, [Name]. You're important to me. Your condition doesn't change that." He abandoned his book and moved closer, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was gentle yet firm, grounding you. 

Law's gaze softened as he rested his forehead against yours. "You're strong, and you're doing your best. We'll get through this together," he murmured, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. Law leaned in and placed several soft kisses along the apples of your cheeks, each one filled with reassurance and love.

The heat rose up in your chest and flood through you. "Thank you, Law,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. Instead of speaking more, you reached up and gently squeezed Law's hands, your eyes meeting his with a look that conveyed everything you couldn't put into words.

You closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly melt away. In that moment, the stress of exams and the challenges of your condition seemed more manageable with Law by your side. As you both held each other close, the room filled with a comforting silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your breathing.

—------------------------ Moving in together!

Dating Law had always been an adventure. From the intense late-night study sessions to the countless study dates where you'd find each other engrossed in medical journals, dedication was something you both admired deeply. But it wasn’t long before you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way his movements grew sluggish as the night wore on, and how he often seemed distant, lost in his thoughts.

One particularly late evening, you found him in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, his eyes wide open despite the exhaustion etched into his features. It was then you realized: Law had insomnia. He never mentioned it, brushing off your concerns with a quick smile and a change of subject, but the signs were undeniable. 

That little fucker!

"Law," you said softly, sitting beside him on the bed. "How long have you been dealing with this?"

He sighed, turning to face you. "A while," he admitted. "It's just part of who I am."

You frowned, brushing a hand through his hair. "But it doesn't have to be. You help me so I’m gonna help you. We can figure this out together."

It was that moment that solidified your decision to move in together. If you were going to help each other through medical school and residency, you needed to be there for one another, especially during the tough times.

Moving in together was a significant step, but it felt natural. You found comfort in the rhythm of shared routines and small domestic rituals. Mornings began with sleepy kisses and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, while evenings often ended with both of you sprawled on the couch, medical textbooks spread around, discussing cases and treatments.

Helping Law with his insomnia became part of your routine the way he helped you with your narcolepsy was part of his. You started by creating a calming nighttime environment: dim lights, soft music, and sometimes even a warm bath. But it was the nights when you held him close, your fingers running through his hair, whispering soothing words, that made the most difference.

On nights when sleep seemed to be closing in on you, you’d tackle his big goofy ass into the bed and koala him, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. "Just breathe," you'd murmur, your voice a gentle anchor in the dark. "I've got you."

He’d relax against you, the tension slowly easing from his body as your fingers traced soothing patterns on his scalp. Sometimes, you’d hum softly, a melody you both loved, letting the music lull him into a sense of peace.

There were still nights when he'd find you asleep first, your body sprawled in the most inconvenient places — fully on top of the kitchen table, upside down on the couch, curled up in the tub (scared the literal shit outta him) or even mid-sentence on your shared bed. He'd just chuckle softly, scooping you up and carrying you to bed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you in. 

Living together was pretty lit. You learned to navigate each other’s quirks and habits, finding joy in the little things. Your bodies weird sleep patterns weren't a burden but more of a shared challenge, one you faced together. And through it all, the love between you grew stronger, built on a foundation of mutual support and understanding.

Despite the long hours and the relentless demands of your budding medical careers, you found peace in each other’s presence. The moments of rest, however fleeting, were treasured. In the quiet hours of the night, with Law’s head resting on your chest, you’d find yourself smiling, knowing that no matter how tough things got, you’d always have each other to come home to.

Your shared friends played a vital role in this journey as well. They rallied around you and Law, each offering their unique brand of support. Luffy, with his infectious energy, would drag Law into spontaneous campus adventures, exhausting him just enough to help him sleep better. There was a time when Luffy insisted on a late-night beach bonfire, where the sound of the waves and the warmth of the fire finally lulled Law into a deep sleep.

Zoro, in his own quiet way, introduced Law to meditation and breathing exercises, often practicing together in the early mornings before the day’s chaos began. Sanji would cook up hearty meals designed to promote sleep (for you energy), slipping herbal teas into your nightly routine. 

"Chamomile for the win," he'd say with a wink, handing Law a steaming cup. 

Nami and Robin took a more research-based approach, scouring medical journals and holistic remedies to find anything that might help. They'd often have evenings where they'd share their findings, creating a comprehensive plan that combined traditional and alternative methods.

Chopper, being a doctor prodigy himself, was a great ally. He frequently checked on Law’s progress, suggesting adjustments to his routine or medication. 

And then there was Usopp and Franky, who used their engineering skills to design a customized, noise-canceling sleep mask and a comfortable, ergonomic bed that helped reduce stress and promote better sleep. Even Brook, with his calming violin melodies, would sometimes play soothing lullabies, his skeletal fingers dancing over the strings.

Law's friends, initially unsure about your condition, quickly adapted. Bepo, a tall dark skinned man with the best hugs anyone could ever give, and one of Law's closest friends, would carry You to a comfortable spot whenever you fell asleep in odd places. Penguin and Shachi would create makeshift beds with their hats whenever they saw you clock out at the study table. Ikkaku didn’t play about your safety either. If you fell asleep at the pub then she was keeping her arm around you at all times until Law could take you home. 

Damn you loved everybody!!~

Living together, surrounded by such a supportive group of friends, made the journey easier. The nights were no longer something to dread but moments of bonding and care. You and Law found a balance, each learning to lean on the other, and the support of your shared friends only strengthened your resolve. 

—---------

At Home:

Law arrived home first, pacing the living room as he waited for you. Today he wasn’t able to drive you both due to him being on call. Hearing your car pull up, he stepped outside, just in time to see you struggling to stay awake. Opening the car door for you, he teased, "I'm surprised you didn't fall asleep again."

You smiled sheepishly. "I tried my best." You threw him your keys and decided to leave the bags in the car.

He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you inside. "You need to be more careful, sweetheart. I worry about you."

"You always worry," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

"And I'll never stop," he said softly, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Inside, Law set you down on the couch, handing you a glass of water. You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and affection. He sat beside you, taking your hand. "I'll always take care of you, Dreamer. Just promise me you'll try to be more careful."

"I promise," you said, squeezing his hand.

—--------

Office Couch:

One late evening, you finished your shift at the hospital and decided to check on Law in his office. Opening the door quietly, you found him slumped over his desk, fast asleep. His dark circles and the clutter of medical journals around him told you he hadn't been sleeping well.

Smiling softly, you walked over and gently shook his shoulder. "Babe, you need to sleep properly."

He groaned, barely awake. "I'm fine, my love."

"No, you're not," you insisted, helping him up. You led him to the couch in his office, coaxing him to lie down. Once he was settled, you snuggled up beside him, your warmth and presence easing him into a deeper sleep.

Living Room:

One night, you woke up to find the bed empty. Knowing Law's struggle with insomnia, you got up and found him on the couch, wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

"Law," you whispered, sitting beside him. "Can't sleep again?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "No."

Without a word, you laid down beside him, making yourself the big spoon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. "You know, I don't mind being your personal pillow," you murmured, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

He relaxed against you, his tense muscles slowly unwinding. Your soothing voice and gentle touch worked their magic, and before long, he drifted off to sleep in your embrace.

University Library:

During a late-night study session in the library, you found Law fast asleep amidst a pile of books. You knew he had been pushing himself too hard, so you carefully moved the books aside and slid in next to him.

"Couldn't stay awake without me, huh?"

You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling your head against his shoulder like a cat. The warmth of your body and the steady rhythm of your breathing provided him with a sense of comfort. Even in his sleep, he instinctively pulled you closer, just loving your presence.

Bedroom:

One particularly rough night, you woke to Law pacing the hallway, unable to settle down. You got out of bed and approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

"Come back to bed, Baby," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "I can't sleep," he found your hands and raised them to his lips to plant kisses on the back of them. You booped his nose before kissing his shoulder blades. “C’mon,”

You pulled backwards to guide him to the bed and fell backwards, making yourself the big spoon. As you held him close, you began to talk softly, recounting your day and telling him stories. Your fingers threaded through his hair, your voice soothing and rhythmic.

Gradually, you felt his breathing even out, his body relaxing completely. You stayed like that, holding him until you were sure he was deeply asleep, knowing that your presence was his anchor.

Kitchen:

Early one morning, you found Law asleep at the kitchen table, his head resting on his folded arms. He had clearly been up all night, working on something.

You sighed softly, shaking your head with a fond smile. "Oh, babe."

Carefully, you lifted him from the chair, supporting his weight as you guided him to the bedroom. Once he was settled in bed, you climbed in beside him, snuggling close.

"I've got you," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He mumbled something incoherent, suddenly wrapping an arm around your hips as he drifted deeper into slumber.

You stayed with him, knowing that even in his dreams, he needed the reassurance of your presence.

After graduation—---- 

Years had passed since your days as a medical student, and now you were a fully-fledged doctor, training young residents alongside Law. The hospital environment was a bustling hub of activity, and your relationship with Law had to be kept under wraps from the higher-ups. Despite the secrecy, your students couldn't help but notice the chemistry between you two.

"I swear, the Trafalgar’s are such an adorable couple," one of your residents whispered to another during a break.

"Totally! He's all grumpy and she's like his sunshine! They're like hospital mom and dad," the other replied with a grin.

Unbeknownst to them, their playful shipping was not far from the truth. Law's stern demeanor contrasted with your warm, approachable nature, creating a dynamic that both baffled and endeared your students. They would often turn to you for guidance, seeing you as a nurturing figure, while Law's gruff exterior masked his deep care for his residents and patients. 

(Freaking softy~)

Despite the progress in managing your narcolepsy, there were still moments when it caught up with you. It never happened during lectures or patient interactions, but sometimes during lunch, in your car, or in the privacy of your office, you would fall into a deep sleep, impossible to wake up from.

One afternoon, after a particularly exhausting morning, you found yourself nodding off during lunch. Your residents, familiar with your condition, quickly alerted Law with a series of beeps. He arrived shortly after, a mix of concern and affection in his eyes as he gently lifted you into his arms.

"You've got to be more careful, Dreamer," he whispered, carrying you to his office where you could sleep undisturbed.

He placed you on the couch, covering you with a soft blanket. Your peaceful expression as you slept brought a smile to his face, even as he sighed at the thought of how hard you pushed yourself.

In the Car:

One evening, after a long shift, you decided to take a moment to rest in your car before heading home. Law was finishing up some paperwork when one of your residents knocked on his door, slightly panicked.

"Dr. Trafalgar? Dr. Trafalgar fell asleep in her car. We can't wake her up."

Law's expression softened as he nodded. "I'll take care of it."

He found you in your car, head resting against the window, completely out cold. Carefully, he opened the door and gently lifted you out, carrying you back to his office.

"Dreamer," he murmured, settling you on the couch once more. "You really need to take it easy."

In Your Office:

During a rare moment of downtime, you had decided to catch up on some paperwork in your office. The next thing you knew, you were waking up to the feeling of Law's arms around you, lifting you from your chair.

"Can't resist taking a nap just to be in my arms?" he teased, carefully carrying you to his office.

You mumbled something incoherent, still barely unconscious, but snuggled closer to him. Law chuckled softly, his heart swelling with affection.

—-----

Law glanced at his phone, the familiar chime indicating a new message. It was from one of the medical students.

"Dr. Trafalgar, she fell asleep in the common room again."

He sighed, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. Quickly gathering his things, he made his way to the common room. As he entered, he saw you slumped over a pile of textbooks, softly snoring. The sight of you asleep, with your hair slightly tousled and your face relaxed, made him smile despite his concern.

"Dreamer," he murmured, gently shaking your shoulder.

You stirred, blinking sleepily up at him. "Law...?"

"Couldn't wait to fall into my arms, huh?" he smirked, squatting down to your height to plant a kiss on your sleepy head.

He gently lifted you into his arms, feeling your head nestled against his shoulder. Your soft breaths tickled his neck, reminding him of how much he adored these moments, even though he wished they didn't happen under such circumstances. As he carried you through the corridors, fellow doctors and nurses exchanged knowing smiles and whispered comments about the devoted couple.

Arriving at his office, Law gently placed you on the couch he had designated for moments like these. He covered you with a warm, soft blanket and brushed a stray hair from your face. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

"You're lucky I found you," he said, his tone lighter. "Guess who's getting extra assignments as punishment?"

You pouted, still half-asleep. " 'S not fair..."

"Life's not fair," he replied, smirking. "Ah, you're so cute. Don't even remember we're doctors now."

You mumbled something incoherent, your eyes half-closed, but a playful thought crossed your mind. "No, but I know who I married!~"

Law's eyes widened in realization, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, look who's not really asleep!"

Before you could respond, he unleashed a tickle attack, making you squirm and squeal uncontrollably. The light of his office caught your wedding rings, making them shine brightly. You tried to fend him off, but your laughter and sleepiness weakened your defenses.

"Law! Stop!" you giggled, trying to catch your breath.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you decided to turn the tables. You reached up and bit his collarbone, catching him off guard, before you began to tickle him back. Law's deep chuckles filled the room as he tried to evade your wiggly fingers, but you were relentless. 

"Don’t you dare!" he managed between laughs, his usual stoic expression replaced with one of pure joy.

The two of you ended up rolling around on the couch, tickling and laughing until you were both breathless and tangled in the blanket. You finally stopped, both of you lying there, panting and grinning at each other.

"Okay, okay, truce," Law said, holding up his hands in surrender.

You snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest. "Truce," you agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Law wrapped his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest, my wife. I've got you."

As you drifted back to sleep, the warmth of the blanket and Law's presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber, Law watched over you, his heart full of love and admiration for his wife. 

His wife! 

The two of you had made it through college, med school, residency, board exams, your shitty sleep schedules and really made it out the other end. 

The sight of you nestled comfortably, your hair fanned out on the pillow, brought a sense of worship over him. He gently adjusted the blanket around you again, ensuring you were snug and warm. As he settled back into his chair to work, the sound of your soft, steady breathing was the sweetest music to his ears. It filled the room with a sense of calm, a gentle reminder of the love and life you shared.

Law often found himself pausing in his work to steal glances at you, his heart pounding against his ribs. Your presence grounded him, reminded him of what truly mattered. The stresses of the day faded into the background, replaced by the serene comfort of your love. 

He marveled at your resilience, your unwavering spirit, and the way you faced each day with a smile, despite the challenges your condition brought. And then you had to go in and save him, too. With your warmth, the gentle touches and those little kisses you ghosted over him while he slept. All those nights he couldn’t sleep he was shakey and on the verge of tears and you’d bathe him and calm him down. You let him into your life and he was going to thank you every day for it. 

With you, even the mundane felt extraordinary. And as he sat there, watching over you, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Blessed for your love, your partnership, and the beautiful journey you were on together. Life, with all its unpredictability and challenges, was perfect because he had you to share it with.

Despite the casual chaos of your busy lives, this moment reminded him of why he cherished you so deeply. Life, with all its demands and pressures, was brighter with you by his side. And as he worked, the sound of your soft, steady breathing was the sweetest music to his ears. 

“I love you.”

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @orange-milky @xxsliverwolfxx @mochiclouds @m0rona @thealtofvalleyxdoodles

I own none of the art or characters!!

Posted on the ao3 account soon.

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ And thank you guys again for 100 followers!!

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

FIRST ROUND: 53rd Tilt

Prince Aemond Targaryen, House of the Dragon (2022-) VS. Erik Thurgilson, The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Propaganda

Prince Aemond Targaryen, House of the Dragon (2022-) Portrayed by: Ewan Mitchell Defeated Opponents: - Kai [Michael Gothard], Arthur of the Britons (1972-1973)

“Aemond studies the sword, philosophy, history. He is the rider of the largest dragon in the world (objectively sexy), has an eye patch (also objectively sexy), and dresses like an anime villain (your mileage may vary on that one.)”

Erik Thurgilson, The Last Kingdom (2015-2022) Portrayed by: Christian Hillborg Defeated Opponents: - Much [Sam Troughton], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

“Few things are hotter than watching the callous Dane facade drop like a rock in record time after being confronted with the smart, strong, vulnerable Saxon Princess he’s *supposed* to be holding for ransom. There’s just something irresistibly sexy about seeing all pretense of ambitious indifference fall away to reveal the tenderness and kindness a man like that can be capable of without sacrificing his fearsomeness. Just gives you shivers.”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Prince Aemond:

For Erik Thurgilson:

"Behold the Micro expressions of a man whose priorities in life have just been completely upended:

If you told me that Christian Hillborg’s acting direction here was “Illustrate the phrase ‘caught feelings’”, I would believe you."

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Eddie is, perhaps, the only person who seems to be handling the fact Steve has been turned into a porcelain doll in a level-headed sort of way. Probably because he's the newest person to be privy to Upside Down shenaniganary and quiet honestly just thought 'ah. Of course. Why wouldn't something like this be possible?' instead of freaking out and screaming like everyone else.

"It's a physical impossibility, Robin!" Dustin shouts.

"Well, we thought monsters didn't exist before, but guess what-" Robin is shouting back.

"The monster situation was scientifically plausible, now proven scientifically true! Transforming a living person into a doll is magic, and magic isn't real!"

"It fucking is now! Look at Steve!! Look at him!" Robin, who is holding Porcelain Steve, shakes him in Dustin's face, complete with the clack of porcelain on porcelain.

Eddie isn't even fully aware he moved from his spot on the couch in the Byers-Hopper living room until he's snatching Steve out of Robin's hands with the thought of 'he gets migraines too easily for you to shake him like that' and then is left wondering if little Porcelain Steve can get migraines. "Stop waving him around like a flag, Buckley. Porcelain is fragile, you could break him."

It's a testament to how worried Robin really is about breaking Steve that she doesn't instantly rip him back out of Eddie's hands like she had when Nancy had first picked him up.

"We don't even know that's Steve," Dustin has never been gracefully about potentially not being right and now is no different.

"I know that, Henderson!" Eddie snaps, pulling Steve to his chest in a protective two armed hug, "But wouldn't you feel like shit if this is Steve, somehow magically changed, and we've accidentally murdered him by busting his little porcelain face?"

That brings Dustin to a pause and Robin starts up again, backed by Will now.

Eddie retreats, not back to the couch, but out the front door and away from the arguments. Aside from hating the sound of people yelling at each other himself, he doesn't want Steve to hear it either. Steve only enjoys an argument he can be bitchy in, and he can't really participate.

That is, if Steve can even hear anything. If this is actually Steve changed, and not just the creepiest ransom threat left in the form of a perfectly porcelain replica. Down to the moles on his face and the scars on his torso, which Robin had claimed felt like paint when she'd ran a shaking finger over them.

He sits down gently in the front lawn, crisscrossing his legs and lays Steve in the cradle they create. Blank hazel eyes stares up unblinking into the sun and Eddie finds himself hovering a hand above Steve's face to... protect his eyes, he supposes. He'll admit to feeling a little embarrassed about doing it -anyone walking down the street could see him shielding the eyes of a doll in his lap- but if Steve is trapped in there, can see out those eyes, well, he'd rather do the kind thing and be little embarrassed about it.

"Don't know if you can hear or not, Harrington," Eddie says, "but worry not. If anyone can figure out how to return you to your flesh prison, it's this crew. Not that you need my assurance on that. You know what they're capable of better than I."

It's quiet on the front lawn except for the occasional car rolling down the street or dog barking somewhere down the road. Eddie's never been a fan of quiet, so he talks to fill the silence. Not about anything really important. He recaps the current Dungeons and Dragons campaign he's running for Hellfire, which has been relocated to Jeff's dining room for the summer.

"And Will, very smart strategist that one, delayed his turn in initiative -that's the order they take turns in in combat- to cast Fireball in the room once everyone had run out of it. Worked great, especially since several of the creatures were invisible at the time and-" Eddie goes on, interrupting his own story to explain mechanics, or spells, or give backstory on why something was important, so that Steve wouldn't be too confused about everything. It probably all still sounds like a foreign language to him, or he's just tuned Eddie out, but Eddie would like to think that Steve would appreciate it.

Eddie sits outside long enough for his butt to go numb and for the sun to shift lower in the sky before he hears the front door open and close and Robin sits herself down next to Eddie.

"Come to some sort of agreement yet?" Eddie asks, turning his face towards Robin.

"No," Robin sighs, reaching a hand out. At first, Eddie thinks she's going to take Steve but she just pets at his hair for a moment before pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "El's got an idea, though. Don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. She's going to try and find Steve, y'know, with her mind. Someone will come let us know what she discovers, so no rush to head back in."

"Oh," Eddie replies dumbly, looking from Robin down to Steve. They sit quietly for a few minutes before Eddie says, "Is it wrong of me to hope that this is Steve?"

"Depends on why you hope that's Steve, I guess."

"'Cause then we know he's safe," Eddie says softly, almost a whisper. "'Cause if this is Steve then he's not... not kidnapped somewhere, alone, maybe being beaten up or tortured or- those things happen far too often."

"Then no. It's not wrong to hope. I think right there in your lap is probably the safest place Steve's been, well, ever."

"I don't know Buckley, he was pretty safe in your hands."

"I shook him around like a ragdoll, Munson," Robin levels him with a look, "I'm woman enough to admit I get caught up in my nerves and don't think of consequences. I'm not, like, the number one klutz or anything but it didn't even occur to me that we could really hurt Steve until you said it. Like, what if what happens to the doll actually happens to Steve? What happens if his arm shatters or-" she cuts herself off to pull in a shaky breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to Steve," Eddie says, voice more confident than he truly feels but comforting Robin is important. Steve usually grounds her with some bitchy look and sarcastic phrase but he's not close enough to Robin for him to be sure he wouldn't just be insulting her instead of joking. "I won't let anything happen. You won't. No one in that house would."

A deep breath from Robin, then, "yeah. You're right. You hear that Steve? We've got you, and nothing's going to happen to you except becoming a real boy again."

Eddie huffs out a laugh and sits in the quiet with Robin, waiting to be called back inside once El has made contact with Steve.

[searsage]

Sam: Have you talked to him yet..?

Robin: Yes! Thirteen fucking times! Everytime I so much as take a step in there he starts growling then getting upset and apologising! he's so sad Sam!

Sam: Damn, well Dani's got the truck ready..we should probably get rid of her as soon as possible..and by that i mean tonight.

Robin: I know I know! But what the hell am i supposed to do?! He'll never forgive me if i take her from him!

Sam: Calm down Robin, he's just going through a phase, it's likely he saw dark skin, curly hair and his little alien heart just went pitter patter-

Robin: Three.

Sam: What..?

Robin: Al-an has three hearts, and they look nothing like me!

Sam: Right Right! Look, the point is he'll get over it, sure he'll be sad for a while but he'll come to his senses eventually and recognize that it was just his misfiring parental instincts rearing for the vary first time.

Robin: I don't know…he's never acted like this before..

Sam: we can't let him keep her Robin, she has a family, they've been tearing up town and the surrounding woods looking for her! …you haven't seen the faces of her family as they staple her flyers to every damn tree..

Robin: I know! It's just…ugh.

Sam: it'll be hard I know, just the sedatives-

Robin: You mean tranquilizers…

Sam: Robi…Im giving you the option to do this the easy way, one word and i can have Margurite do it for you..we need to take her back and we need to do it tonight when that idiot is on patrol, anyone else would be too risky.."

Robin: I'll handle it okay?! I doubt I'll need the tranqs, besides we need him awake to insure she doesn't squeal. And don't call me that I'm not a kid! I just need to figure out what to say to him after…

Sam: Your certain he can remove everything..? All traces of us..? She can't remember anything..

Robin: Yeah, he can…anything she does recall she won't be able to decipher enough to sense of this whole mess, Just get the bag and tell Danielle to have the van ready.

Sam: on a lighter note, Magurite is having a field day with those ransom notes, says that idiots been loosing sleep over her demands.."

Robin: fifty thousand dollars, seriously? is it right to pick on him like this?

Sam: Yes, Robi or do you not recall last christmas when that hopeless jackass tried to break into our lodge with his fake warrent..

Robin: I said don't call me that, and yeah, I'll admit that was pretty damn funny, but to be fair we did shoot his tires out.

Sam: what officer Ryley doesn't know Officer Ryley can't prove.

Robin: okay enough chit chat, this won't get done by being idle, I'm going to go tell him to wipe her, wish me luck.

Sam: Good luck…tell him we won't even complain if he mopes on the couch for a few days.

Robin: Really Sam?

Sam: What?! I was trying to be supportive!

Me still thinking about that domestic cyptid comedy horror Au where Ryley is a park ranger living out his days patroling the woods where an odd old lady , quirky researcher and her sibling and her girlfriend reside .

And every now and then he has to Head out and investigate reports and sightings of weird alien wendigos and robot not deers and chase off the local hippie cults (alterra) convinced aliens are trying to commune. And 100% knows Robin sam and Margaret know more then they act like.

And refuse to explain the power outages or odd glowing lights.

But its all told in like a podcast format And Ryley is 100% done with their gasslighting.