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reareaotaku · 1 day

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Superboy vs Robin

Summary: The life of 3 best friends that get confused when realizing they have a crush on their other friend, Y/n Prince, daughter of Wonder Woman Pairings: Jon Kent x Fem! Reader, Damian Wayne x Fem! Reader Tw: Love V [NOT TRIANGLE!!! IT'S A 'V'], Slow Burn? Taglist: N/a

[This probably would have been better to write as a multi-part story instead of a one-shot, so I can really get the slow burn and such... Might make a part 2 if yall like this? Also hope this isn't bad because I've been wanting to write this for over a year....]

You had met the two boys when in the league's spaceship. Your mother was on business and sent you off to do, as she put it 'Children things', before taking off with Batman and Green Lattern. You rolled your eyes at her dismissal, but decided to find something else to do. Besides, hero work was boring anway. Nothing interesting about discussing rules and such anyway.

You walked around the large spaceship, before coming across a particular room. In the room where two kids, boys, around your age you didn't recognize. One of the boys, the one in darker clothes, must have felt your presence, because the second you stepped in he turned around.

Damian knew who you were. He knew who everyone was. He would look like a real fool if he didn't know the daughter of Wonder-woman. Too bad the same couldn't be said for Jon.

You awkwardly stand at the door way, now having both the boys' attention on you. You awkwardly wave, "Hey."

Jon's face lights up and he rushes to you. He loved meeting new people and you were nothing short of pretty. "Hi!" He grabs your hand, engulfing it with his own. "I'm Jon, Jon Kent."

"Y/n Prince." You tried to keep up with his handshake, but he was fast and strong, and by the time you could gather what was going on he had already let your hand go.

You looked past Jon back at the emo boy, but he was just staring at you. Jon looked over to see what you were looking at, before gesturing towards his friend.

"Oh, that's Damian. Don't mind him. He's.... Shy."

"I'm not shy. I just don't have any reason to speak to her."

Jon gasps, before glaring at his friend, "That's rude, Damian." He turns back to you, his face flushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry about him. He's not good with people."

You nod, still staring at Damian. "He's Batman's kid, right? The son of those assassins?"

Damian's eyes widen, but only for a brief second. He could let such an emotion out.

"My mother mentioned it a while ago. She didn't say much, just that you were... Different."

"Yeah, he is different." Jon jokes, causing you both to chuckle, but Damian just rolls his eyes.

---

You and Jon stuck your faces to the fish tank. Neither of you had ever seen a fish tank before. You were both stuck in the house by your parents in fear of you revealing yourselves on accident. Your parents have isolated you both- Even Damian was isolated, but he wasn't as naive and foolish as you and Jon.

"Oh, that one's purple," You point to a triangle-shaped fish.

"No, it's a dark blue," Jon argues, causing you to side-eye him.

You rolled your eyes, but don't respond.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Yeah, Jon?"

He looks over at you, wide eyed and excited, "You ever been Tire-rolling?"

"Tire-rolling?"

---

"I don't know if this is a good idea, Jon-" You try and reason, as your hands grip the tire's rubber.

He smiles, his hands gripping the tire, "Oh, it'll be fun. Promise!" He then pushes you, but instead of pushing you at a normal strength, he accidentally uses his super strength and sends you flying. His eyes widen as his mouth drops, before he runs after you, hoping you don't get hurt.

You scream as the tire jumps and hits multiple things while going faster than you've ever gone before. You grip the inside of the tire so hard, that you can feel your nails digging into your palm. You hear cars honking, but there's nothing you can do, without using your powers.

Though, luck must have been on your side, because while you're mid way in the air, something goes through the tire and harshly pulls you down. Your face slams into the tire, your hands ripping the tire's rubber. The tire falls flat on the ground and you sit up, rubbing your head.

Above you was the one and only, Damian Wayne. He was in his school uniform and he was looking down at you annoyed. In his hand was a grappling hook, which you assume he used to save you.

You quickly stand up, brushing off your clothes, "Uh, thanks."

Before Damian can respond, like he would, you hear Jon calling out to you.

"Y/n! Oh my god, Y/n! Are you okay?" He's nearly out of breath as he runs up to you before he stops. "Oh. Uh, hi Damian."

There's a moment of awkward silence, before Jon goes back to his normal self.

"What are you doing, Damian?"

"Nothing." Damian is quick, calculated even.

You had only known the two boys for a few months, but it felt like you had known Jon your whole life and this moment felt like the first time meeting Damian. Though, Damian was busy, so you couldn't really blame him. He was the son of a man with an empire and an assassination group. He was bound to be tied up from time to time.

"Uh, do you want to hang out, Damian?"

Damian is taken by surprise. You wanted to hang out? With him? Why?

Jon went to speak for Damian, but Damian interrupts him, "Sure."

"Really?" Both you and Jon speak at the same time, before you both blush out of embarrassment.

"I mean, great. Wow, okay. Yeah, let's hang out."

---

Damian groaned, before laying down on the roof. He could hear Jon and Y/n snickering to themselves, probably over something stupid. He closes his eye, their voices slowly fading from his mind. He didn't know how you had convinced him to hang out with you on a roof in the middle night.

He didn't like you, so he didn't know why he listened to you. He had no reason to care about what you said or thought, but yet here he was.

You had some kind of pull over him and he didn't know why. There was nothing about you that was different from the other superheroes. Sure, you were pretty, but so was Starfire, Raven, Super-woman, etc.

He looks over at you as you lean on Jon's shoulder, whispering some secret into his ear. He wondered what secrets you two were sharing. Maybe if he asked you'd let him in? He didn't know.

He takes his eyes off of you and looks back at the sky. It was a dark and cloudy night, like most nights in Gotham. Though, unlike most nights, it was quiet; Almost peaceful.

It bothered Damian. More than he'd like to admit. He felt an ich in his skin, like he was supposed to be doing something, but there was nothing to do. There was no fight to fight or crime to solve. It was peaceful for the first time in a long time.

---

Jon liked you, a lot. Like more than he's ever liked someone in his life. He feels immense emotions when he's around you, even if your mother doesn't like him. Though, your mother didn't like men period.

He was thankfully you didn't receive that quality from your mother. You were much nicer and happier than your mother. But that could be because you weren't tortured in the same way your mother was by the women of Themyscira.

In fact, they adored you. They treated you like some kind of goddess and cherished you. Jon understood though. You were perfect- At least to him you were. He thought everyone should treat you like the perfect person you are because you deserve nothing less.

---

You were alone with Damian for the first time in all the years you've known each other. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn't know how you were going to tell them you were going to be leaving for Themyscira.

Your mother wanted you to be trained by the Amazons to be able to control your powers and abilities. While she herself was banished, she knew they would welcome you with welcome arms.

You knew Jon would take it hard, but it was only going to be for a year. Just a year. A year you'd be away from your best friends. So, there was a part of you that hoped if you told Damian first, it'd be easier to break it to Jon.

"So, when do you leave?"

You looked over at Damian, confused, "Leave?"

"I heard your mother talking to my father. She said she was sending you to Themyscira to train. So," He sits up on his bed, making direct eye contact with you, "when do you leave?"

"Next month. I'll be gone for a year."

"A year?"

"Yeah. My mom wanted me to stay for 3, but I was able to talk her down from it."

"Have you told Jon?"

"No..."

"Well, you know he's not going to react well."

"Yeah. That's why I've been procrastinating it."

"Can I write you?"

You frown, "No. The island is cut off from the world. So, no contact at all. Not even with my mom."

He now frowns, but says nothing more.

---

You sigh, leaning on your hand, your sword tossed on the ground. Before you stood Philippus, your mentor.

"Princess Y/n, what is bothering you so?"

You couldn't tell her you missed your friends. If she knew they were boys you knew you would get scolded. The Amazons didn't like men, because they were chaos and destruction and they were peaceful. A part of you understood, because you've seen the terrible things men can do, but your friends- they weren't like those men.

"Nothing... Just tired."

She takes your answer, even though she knows you're lying. You were frustrated and annoyed. You had been here for a month and found yourself making no progress. This was pointless.

You could have been with your friends, but here you were on some stupid island. You wanted to your friends.

"You know, if you don't get these down in the upcoming year, you'll have to stay."

You straighten up and glare at the woman. "No, I won't-"

Philippus quickly turns around, looking at you offended, "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." You quickly respond not wanting to repeat yourself.

She huffs, rolling her eyes, but decides to leave the conversation.

---

It had been a year since you were forced, by your mother, to train on the Themyscira Island. They wanted you to know how to use your powers to the fullest potential. It was fine... But you missed your friends. You wondered what they were doing. You wondered if they missed you too.

---

Jon was estatic. You were finally going to return from the island. Though, there was a part of him that was worried that you wouldn't remember them or even worse, you would hate them.

"You worry too much," Damian told him.

Jon sighs, trying to collect himself, "I'm just worried." Jon fiddles on his toes, as he repeated looks out of the window, hoping to see you pull up. Though, you were no where to be found. He walks away from the window, his shoulders dropping. "How far is that place?"

"Themyscira? It's a few weeks by boat, but she'll be here soon. She's home now."

Jon lightens up, "Home?"

"Yeah, she won't be here for a few more hours."

Jon glares at Damian, "You had me here looking like an idiot!"

Damian chuckles, "Yeah. I did, didn't I?"

---

Damian wasn't surprised by your appearance, unlike Jon. Damian had already seen you, without you knowing of course. You think he'd let you leave without any kind of contact? He knew everything, thanks to his connections. Though, nothing could compare to you really being in front of you.

Jon was the first to hug you. His arms squeezed you tightly, nearly causing you to lose your breath. He didn't want to let you go- Just hold you forever. He didn't want you leaving forever, but he was forced to let you go.

"You look great, Y/n."

You smile, a blush forming, "You too, Jon." You look around Jon to see Damian, who was avoiding eye contact. It almost reminded you of when you had first met the boys. "No hug, Damian?"

Damian finally looks at you, his natural glare on his face. Unlike Jon, who had let his hair grow out, Damian still had shorter hair, but his features were sharp. Though, that didn't surprise you. What did take you by surprise though is how much he looked like his father.

While Jon looked like a mix of Clark and Lois, Damian just looked like his father. Well, minus his golden skin- He got that from his mother.

Speaking of Jon, you felt him squeeze your bi-cep. You looked at him confused and he blushed.

"Uh, what are you doing, Jon?"

"Your biceps. They're like... Huge." He's fascinated by your arms, even comparing it to his own. While he was naturally strong, because of his powers, you had trained relentlessly for a year and it showed when your arms were bigger than his.

You chuckled at his amusement, before his eyes lit up, "Ah, Y/n you've missed out on so much- Come on," He grabs your arm, leading you inside the headquaters of the Justice League. You are stopped though when Damian grabs your arm that Jon didn't have. Jon looks back, wondering why you stopped when realizing Damian had grabbed you.

"Jon, why don't you head up. I just want to talk to Y/n."

Jon seems reluctant, but you turn to him, "I'll catch up. Promise."

He sighs, but ultimately goes up the stairs and inside the building.

"You look nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That means a lot coming from you, you know?"

Damian avoids eye contact. He's worried that you might see all his emotions, feelings and thoughts. He didn't want you knowing his darkest thoughts. "Yeah.. Uh, Jon missed you a lot... Obviously. Um..." Damian had never been like this- Lost for words. He always knew what to say. He had everything calculated, but now... Well, he felt lost. He felt your stare on him, waiting for him to finish, but he felt his tongue felt twisted. "It's good to have you back."

"Yeah, well, it's good to be back. You know, I've missed you a lot... And Jon. I've missed you both a lot."

Damian finally looks at you. Your eyes bleeding into his own. For a moment it felt like you two were the only ones in the world. Everything else was just dark and all that was left was you. That was until another voice spoke.

"Y/n."

You both looked up to see your mother. She gestured for you to come inside and you looked back at Damian.

"Well, I guess that I have to go."

"Yeah... I'll see yah."

"Yeah... you will."

You rush up the stairs, trying to stop the blush from forming on your face. You were so embarrassed and felt like the conversation was stupid. You wished you could have done it differently, but it was Damian. You were sure he wasn't as pressed about it as you.

If only you knew how much your life was about to change forever- All thanks to teenage boys' puberty.

#jon kent x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #superman #batman #yandere x reader #wonder woman #robin x reader

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dfortrafalgar · 9 hours

Note

Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.

How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.

thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3

also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL

Rectify

Law x Fem Reader

Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.

Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him. It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth. All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man. And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.

Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.

You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd. You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers. Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer. You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came. And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.

On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason. He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents. He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter. His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.

Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.

Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.

Bellamy certainly seemed to like you. A lot.

Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants. The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer. The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.

You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house. Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table. He followed you diligently into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes. “I didn’t hear you behind me!”

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter. You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap. Law eyed you suspiciously.

“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.

You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did. “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”

Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue. “Is Bellamy bothering you?”

Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Something told him you were lying to his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned. “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”

“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.

“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly. “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere. I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”

You had a point. Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal. Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.

Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch. But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.

“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted. He hadn’t said anything more. With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.

The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session. He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently. The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable. Law felt his stomach flip over. Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned. A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips. You looked… aged. Stressed. Afraid.

But Law kept his distance.

You didn’t want a scene to break out. You could handle yourself on your own.

Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs. The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him. Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.

“Don’t run off,” he snapped. “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”

You steeled yourself. “Then I don’t want you touching me like that. We’re not an item, Bellamy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed back. “I’ll touch you however I want.”

The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes. The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults. The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.

“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.

No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been. When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking. You were alone.

And Law was somehow so far away.

“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally. “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you. You’ll never be able to do better than me.”

You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short. Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock. You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin. Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone. You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.

And yet. No one. Noticed.

Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him. The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers. The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.

For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself. His father was a retired marine after all. Law knew a thing or two about a good punch. His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.

Don’t cause a scene.

Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings. “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”

With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded. Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.

If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.

The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state. Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump. Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street. Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes. He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home. Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.

Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well. He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.

A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink. Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste. Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.

The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink. As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears. You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.

Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.

When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen. He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth. He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue. You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch. The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut. He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.

He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink. “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay? Don’t remove them until I say so.”

You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle. You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle. He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp. He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath. He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.

While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face. While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side. A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.

Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen. You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water. He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl. He finally turned around to face you.

“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed. “It might taste kind of bitter.”

You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound. Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant. Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit. Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.

After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye. “What was that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered. “To disinfect your tongue. Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”

Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears. You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen. You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.

“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling. With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable. Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.

With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface. His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers. It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.

—

It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home. You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up. Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space. Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.

After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch. He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own. Your heart galloped in your chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own. His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest. “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way. “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”

When your eyes opened, they were small. Weak. Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember. You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with. “I never really liked Bellamy.”

The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.

“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile. Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.” Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin. “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Again.

Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior. A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do? It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it. And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins. But he needed to stay calm for you. Anger solves no issues. He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.

A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.

“What…” he began, stumbling. “What do you want from me? To help you?”

After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up. “Can you spend the night with me?”

Law blinked once, then twice. “Here?”

“Yeah. In my room.”

He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You emitted a small gust of air through your nose. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Fair enough. “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw. The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.

One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt. “In my bed. I feel safe with you, Law. It’s really okay.”

After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack. He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets. You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light. The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.

Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was. A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin. The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side. You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious.

“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.

You didn’t hold it against him, however. Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.

You nodded. “Yes.”

Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him. He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen. You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.

The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck. His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night. You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.

No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least. Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

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theriverbeyond · 2 days

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irt to dunmeshi people definitely overhype the tone change, it's my favorite manga but i don't rly get how the action ramping up as the stakes get higher makes it super dark lol. it's a fantasy/action story. later on in the series it rly starts cashing in on how carefully the characters and their relationship to the world is set up and there are some extremely compelling narratives abt consumption and lifespan and obligations to others i think tlt fans would enjoy (i know i do) but some fans rly set it up as a horror romance when it is 1000000% not that. i think tamsyn muir and ryoko kui have similar strengths w how well they enmesh really carefully made characters into their world. sorry for the long message lol but these r like my two fixations rn.

i appreciate this ty anon!

The tone change was probably the most overhyped, but Im also reading the manga and every page that doesnt have Falin (after she chimeras) im like. WHERE is my girl. i miss her where is the dungeon meshi that exists on my tumblr dash where she is there all the time...... i know why she is not there in the begining (obviously) but she comes back and then is gone again....

I definitely think it wasn't really a tone change at all, but like you said truly just an action/adventure amp up, wherein the fun and silly tone is expertly *maintained* despite the increase in action and stakes. Gurren Lagann is my favorite anime of all time and it pulls off a [ABI DONT LOOK‼️] really signifigant tonal shift that massively reframes the story for the better. (also, highly recomend this anime to anyone into TLT. it hits the same parts of my brain!!)

I'm interested to see how the characters develop over the series and I definitely really see the thematic parallels to TLT that make it appeal to my dash specifically! I do think I need to really seperate the two stories though, because as much as dungeon meshi has a venn diagram overlap with TLT in terms of themes and events I think thus far the way it approaches and handles them are... just not the same, in a way where if I am constantly thinking of them in parallel i am setting myself up to be disappointed 😔

anyway no worries about rambling i appreciate your thoughts!!!

#the great tragedy of experiencing stories is knowing that nothing else will be tlt. nothing else will be gurren lagann.#nothing else will be chainsaw man part 1. and then appreciating different stories for their own merits vs just as something simar #ask #media blogging #anon

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snuffink · 3 days

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I doubt I'll ever actually make a MCD rewrite, gods know my fixation will die down long before I'd get anything on paper or even finish rewatching the whole thing, but it's still fun to share what ideas I have come up with, so here we are!

In a hypothetical rewrite, I would change a bunch of dynamics. If I were to write mcd, a large portion of season 1 would be relationship focused. And I DON'T mean romantic necessarily, I mean building relationships, fleshing out the town, making the audience really get to know the characters and how they interact with each other.

My biggest focus is on Aph's closest friends, so here are my current ideas and hcs!

(Note here: I mention aroace dynamics, I am aware that it's a spectrum, I myself am on the spectrum, I just haven't decided how it would work with Aph herself so it's vague.)

Garroth:

Still in love with Aph

Laurance is his best friend, depends on him when he can't depend on Aph

Views Dante as a younger brother or son

Much less jealous and possessive over Aph, accepts that she may never feel the same, though is causes him heartache.

Has a habit of "adopting" people, most likely due to his past and feeling like a failure to his younger brothers. (Zenix, Dante, Levin, Brian etc)

His closest friends are Aph, Laurance and Dante. Unlikely friendship with Dale and Logan along with Cadenza

Laurance:

Likes Aph, though mostly mistakes his loyalty and fondness and genuine friendship for love. Aph is just as important to him as she is in the series, it's just not romantic love

So much less pushy. So so much less pushy.

They play flirt with Aph, as they do in the series. (Example, the table scene in s1)

Puts his feelings for her aside whenever needed. She needs a guard? He's there. She needs a friend? She's there. She needs to gossip? Girl, what'd they do this time?

Tries to gently push Garroth to do something, anything about his feelings. The pushing turns less gentle after the SK business though it's not his fault

Father/Big brother figure to Malachi.

He's closest with Aph and Garroth and Cadenza, very close with Dante as well, though they don't know each other as deeply as the others do.

Probably friends with Katelyn and Nicole as well, they spar together from time to time.

Gossips with Lucinda from time to time, they shit talk over tea

Yip probably really likes him

Dante:

Sibling like relationship with Aph

Ridiculously loyal to her

Definitely closest to her than anyone else

Had a super good relationship with Nicole, would have stayed together had their interest not clashed.

Dante would have wanted to stay in touch but Nicole needed time to herself

Started getting close to Nana after their split

Loves children, father/big brother to Malachi and Levin

An absolute goof, loses braincells with Laurance, Garroth and Aph. (All of them are super capable by themselves, absolute dumbasses together)

Aph:

Not romantically interested in any of them (I haven't decided if she's on the aroace spectrum or just not interested in men, but I just don't imagine her liking any of the guys)

Views Dante as a brother, Laurance as her best friend and Garroth as a close friend

Has always kind of felt like there was a wall between her and Garroth, couldn't explain it

Genuinely unaware of Garroth's infatuation until the ending events of s1 or then the dreams of s2

Confused over Laurance and others teasing Garroth

Made an effort to get to know Emmalyn after their bad blood died down, recognising her own issues with boundaries and respecting people's space

Unlikely friends with Emmalyn, though it gets tainted a lil after the Irene discovery

(In case not aroace: Zoey is her wife, though this could also be interpreted as platonic. In any case, they are wives and share a friendship that could only be seen as soulmates.)

Considers Laurance and Zoey her platonic soulmates, feels as though the two understand her better than anyone could or would.

Bonds with Aaron particularly well, though they have no romantic involvement.

Aaron:

Not in love with Aph

Sees his late wife in Aph along with his son in Levin and Malachi, and they end up helping him heal over time.

Forms a special type of bond with Aph, and finds himself able to rely on her much more than anyone else

Begins bonding with the others first over their shared hatred of Zane

Due to his time as a lone wolf, he struggles greatly with talking to people for a while

'Fast' friends with Dante, the two bond over the loss of their villages and family.

Surprising friends with Logan, along with Brendon and Emmalyn.

Becomes a father figure of sorts to Dante, Levin, Malachi and other youngins in the town.

Enjoys sparring with people, but begins first doing it out of necessity to be stronger, though it overtime becomes something he truly enjoys

Soft spot for kids

Ferociously protective of Aph due to their close relationship and her resemblance to his wife.

Ends up finding peace in Phoenix Drop, willing to do anything to protect it

Helps Levin figure out lord stuff with Aph.

#Additions to be made later #aphblr #aphmau #mcd #minecraft diaries #mcd garroth #laurence mcd #aaron lycan #laurance zvahl #dante mcd #aphmau rewrite #aphmau hcs #headcanon #garroth ro'meave

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freakadr0id · 2 years

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ROTTMNT Character Fighting Style Analysis - Part 4: Donatello

Hey! I’m back with my fight-style analysis! Sorry it took so long but we’re back in business!

This is a continuation of my first post about analyzing each of the Turtles' (+April's) fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses in a fight, and how Rise uses that to highlight different aspects of their character. I highly encourage you read that first before hopping into this one for full context. There is a bit of a TL;DR at the end.

[Part 1: Leo] [Part 2: Raph] [Part 3: Mikey] [...] [Part 5: April]

[Addendum] (Small addition to this analysis)

Next up on the stand is our dear Othello von Ryan aka Bootyyyshaker9000, aka...

Donatello: Striker/Support

Fighting Styles:

Categorizing Donnie's fighting style in Rise was surprisingly difficult as Donnie doesn't appear to have an easily identifiable pattern the way his brothers do. However, after I watched all the fights he's in several times over I've come to quite an interesting conclusion:

Unlike his brothers, Donnie doesn't have a specific fighting style - he has two.

Parry and Counterattack

Donnie's primary fight style in the show utilizes a more traditional combat approach (or as traditional as Donnie can get), utilizing his bo in combination with his tech to battle the enemy at close range. This fighting style is an interesting fusion of offensive and defensive techniques to create a style that caters to Donnie's strengths. It involves Donnie goading the enemy into attacking him with a series of swipes and jabs, then using a number of blocks and parry techniques to defend himself until he can find or create an opportune moment to create an opening and hit his foe with a devastating counterattack. While Donnie might not be the strongest turtle physically, his tech and proficiency with his bo make him a force to be reckoned with in his own right.

Glass Cannon

Donnie's secondary method of fighting is one I would best describe as a "glass cannon" fight style. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the term 'glass cannon' comes from video games and TTRPGs and is used to describe a character that can deal a lot of damage, but has very little health and defense in return (think of wizard or ranged classes). "But wait, ‘Glass Cannon’ describes the attributes of a character, not their fighting style,” and yes, it does. However, in Donnie’s case, his fighting style changes in such a way that he becomes a glass cannon With this fighting style, Donnie tends to forgo the close-range, technical combat, instead more ranged attacks that rely solely on his tech. This is Donnie when he is fighting at his most offensive as these attacks can be VERY powerful and can deal a significant amount of damage, but they also leave him rather vulnerable. Donnie puts all his focus on dealing strong singular attacks, but if those fail, he ends up being more exposed to the enemy as his tech has very few defensive capabilities.

Strengths and Roles in a Fight:

Striker

Donnie is the team's striker. His role in a fight is to deal powerful, precise hits against the enemy that are intended to quickly and efficiently defeat a foe. Both of his fight styles play into this role and both his Parry-and-Counterattack and Glass Cannon method are built to deliver strong, finalizing attacks. He is often seen entering a battle after his allies instead of charging right in (although he does sometimes do that - especially early on), choosing to be a bit more precise in who he fights, or joining an ally in order to provide that finishing blow if need be. His battleshell gives Donnie an aerial advantage, allowing him to swoop in unexpectedly and strike an enemy, or boost his speed and increase the strength of his attacks. While he is seen, on occasion, fighting outside of this role, he is at his strongest when filling the Striker position.

Support

Donnie also fills the role of the team's Support and assists his brothers, April, and other members in a fight with the use of his tech (ha, get it - he's tech support). This is different than how Mikey supports the team as Mikey directly affects the enemy by disabling them, while Donnie supports the team by directly affecting those he's fighting alongside. Donnie provides numerous helpful gadgets with his tech that has a seemingly infinite number of configurations and uses in battle. His tech-bo had almost every tool under the sun and his goggles can give tactical information in a fight by pointing out weaknesses or additional information about an opponent. He also helps in moving allies around the battlefield using his hammer/tech-bo and battleshell, giving them a stronger advantage in the air and providing aerial assistance if needed. There are times when Donnie supports his allies by inhibiting the enemy, but more often than not his support is provided directly to his team.

Utility:

Donnie's Parry and Counterattack style is, arguably, his best fighting style as he can utilize his tech while fighting without being overly reliant on it. When used properly he can go up against many types of enemies and it allows him to be a bit more adaptable in a fight than he is when he is using just his tech or just traditional fighting techniques.

His Glass Cannon fighting style should not be discredited, however, as it is incredibly strong, but it is more situational than the Parry-and-Counterattack method. There are times when it is useful to have that one powerful attack that can be used to finish off an enemy to deliver an immense amount of damage, but it needs to be done in tandem with his team. When Donnie fights as a Glass Cannon by himself, he becomes incredibly vulnerable and, without anyone to back him up, puts himself at huge risk when his attack fails. Having the others nearby help weaken the enemy, making his attack more effective, or can help defend Donnie should he need it.

Donnie's fighting styles are best suited for short battles against a small number of enemies while he tends to have a hard time in long, drawn-out fights or against a large number of opponents. Donnie's strengths lie in his ability to deliver strong individual attacks, which work best when he is fighting against just a couple of enemies where he can properly focus his energy. However, the longer the fight goes on, the more Donnie begins to struggle - the longer the battle drags on, the more likely Donnie is to get hit. Despite the fact that he does very well on the defensive when using his Parry and Counterattack style, once Donnie gets hit it becomes very hard for him to recover.

Donnie's role as the Striker can conflict with his role as the Support, resulting in him often having to prioritize one over the other. If Donnie plays a more aggressive role in the fight, both his fighting styles don't give much opportunity for him to use his tech for anything but his own attacks. When Donnie needs to fall into his Support role, this means he has to significantly "back off," so to speak, so he can fully deploy and utilize his tech to help his team.

How it plays into his character:

Donnie’s fight style and roles reveal a surprising amount of information about his character, including the complexities of his personality and how his strengths and flaws are demonstrated in the way he fights.

Donnie's Glass Cannon style is the direct result of his arrogance and overconfidence in his tech. Donnie takes pride in his tech and inventions, which isn't inherently a bad thing, however, this tends to feed into Donnie's arrogance, causing him to assume that his inventions could never fail. When he does this in battle, he puts so much emphasis on his tech and his confidence in its success that he doesn't consider the possibility that the attack may not work. However, there are times when the Glass Cannon fighting style is needed, which is when Donnie has to find a balance between relying on his tech for a powerful attack and having the humility to recognize when it may not be the best option.

Donnie's Parry-and-Counterattack fighting style exemplifies how skilled Donnie can be when the best parts of his character come together. This fighting method requires Donnie to be skilled, patient, and tactical; while also demonstrating how Donnie can use his intelligence and engineering in battle without being overly reliant on it. Donnie can be rash and overeager in a fight, especially when it comes to using his tech, but when he uses his Parry-and-Counterattack style he is forced to address that in order to succeed. When Donnie uses his greatest strength, his intelligence, all of these pieces fall into place, making him a very strong fighter.

Donnie's role as a Support may not be very obvious since he tends to fight more offensively, but the way he supports his team in a fight aligns very well with how Donnie expresses his care and affection for his family. Throughout the show, Donnie repeatedly tells us that emotion and affectionate gestures are difficult for him, which could make it seem that he has little care for his family. However, this is far from the case, Rise demonstrates time and time again that Donnie deeply cares about his family, but instead of expressing it outwardly, Donnie's affection comes through in his inventions. We see several instances in the show where Donnie makes upgrades to his tech to cater to his family's needs and interests - and he does the same thing in battle. He has several gadgets specifically designed to keep his family safe, and we see how he modifies his tech to accommodate the needs of others in a fight. The love Donnie has for his family translates into every part of their lives, including battle, even when it isn't immediately obvious to anyone else.

In a Team Fight:

In a combined team effort, Donnie is the best option to go last in a team attack. Given Donnie's role as the Striker and his fighting style that is heavily geared towards singular heavy strikes, it makes sense for him to be the one to deliver that finishing blow. This is where his Glass Cannon style works best as his allies have already worn the enemy down enough to make his final, tech-heavy particularly devastating.

With the mobility and the assistance he can provide with his tech, Donnie can help set up a follow-up attack, but this means he has to take a more passive role in the fight and he doesn't get much of a chance to attack. This can be beneficial when going against weaker opponents, but less so when fighting stronger enemies.

Donnie doesn't work as well as an attacker in the early positions in a team attack as his skills as a fighter are not suited to properly set up a coordinated effort. Even though his Parry-and-Counterattack style can create an opening in the opponent's defense, it also needs a very quick attack to follow up on that, which is difficult to execute without another person nearby. Attacking first or second may also require Donnie to fight his foe for a longer period of time, which increases the chance that Donnie will get hit and won't give him the time needed to recover from it.

~-~-~-~

Donnie's analysis was definitely the most difficult one of the bunch. Whereas Leo, Raph, and Mikey all have instantly recognizable roles and fighting styles, Donnie's was much more complex. You know he's the tech guy in and out of a fight, but trying to find where he fits into battle beyond that was challenging. Interestingly enough, it mirrors how his own character is presented, where you know Donnie's general shtick early on, but it can be difficult to understand his character beyond the surface level if you don't pay attention.

~-~-~-~

[TL;DR: Donnie has two distinct fighting styles in the show - one that prioritizes close-range Parrying and Counterattack techniques and one where he prioritizes his tech and becomes a Glass Cannon. These both feed into his role as the team's Striker, where he functions best as the final attack in a team battle - while also acting as the team's Support by assisting his allies with less combative tech. His roles and fighting style are all very indicative of Donnie's overall personality and the complexities of his character.]

Oh it’s good to be back doing these again. Sorry again for taking so long, but college be college and college be a bi- well, you know. Next up is our girl April O’Neil. I really will try to get it out tomorrow but I won’t make any guarantees.

#damn this one was hard #but super fun and interesting at the same time #he’s just such a good character and that translates over to his fighting really well #I try to give each character their proper dues and equal treatment in these #but I feel like my bias kind of shows with this one #hopefully it isn’t too obvious #I really do love every one of them #(I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t)#but I’m rather partial to this nerd child #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rise donnie #rise donatello #there’s surprisingly little to work with when it comes to Donnie fights #there are many points in the show where the others will be fighting #yet we sometimes don’t see Donnie fighting on screen #plus Donnie never really fights alone in Rise #he doesn’t get a proper ‘solo mission’#which makes it kind of hard to analyse how he fights by himself #analysis #character analysis #rottmnt analysis

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