#[ answering this for canon verse 8) ]

[despairforme]

I just noticed since future society came out, every single outfit nnoitra wears, he has his tits out in some way. Why is he so zesty

❝ 'Da fuck ya talkin' 'bout? ❞ Actually, this was not the first time he'd gotten this ( comment? ). It was always strange to him when he had to explain some simple, basic facts. Nnoitra wasn't a smart guy by any means, and having to explain things to others... It wasn't something that should be necessary. Yet, here he found himself having to state something basic. ❝ I'm a man, so I ain't got tits. I got a chest, 'n there ain't nothin' sexual 'bout a guy's chest. ❞ There. Easy, basic facts. Since WHEN was a guy showing off his chest "zesty". Nnoitra sure as shit didn't think of Grimmjow as slutty just because he wore his jacket open. A lot of the Arrancar didn't like having to wear uniforms, since they'd never worn clothes as Hollow, making the sudden mandatory uniforms feel uncomfortable. Nnoitra personally didn't mind wearing clothes ( especially pants, he enjoyed ), but he didn't expose his chest to be zesty. What the fuck.

[conquiistador]

Does doffy take of his sunglasses around anyone?

❝ No. ❞ He didn't. They were more or less a permanent feature of his at this point. The world was SO UGLY without the tint of red ( a few years ago, he had preferred purple, but now, red was the only colour that would satisfy his gaze ). He had no wish to see what the world looked like in its normal, dull colours.

It was said that the eyes were the door to the soul. But he didn't have one, did he? That was an argument that could be made. Since he always wore his shades, eye-contact would be something special. Something intimate. A treasure he wouldn't so easily bestow upon someone. A person would have to be TRULY SPECIAL for Doflamingo to wish to see them in natural colours. For him to want to meet their eyes.

[luxdea]

(   𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  | @corferox​​ )

❛  why didn’t you wait for me ?  ❜

     HER EYES WERE still fluttering open at the sound of link’s voice, & despite her attempt to stifle a yawn, it slipped out anyways. the sheikah slate was sitting in her lap, still open to the camera, & she brushed her hair out of her face as she sat up properly to face him.

     ❝ my apologies. i didn’t mean to stay out for so long. i woke up early  & you were sleeping so soundly, i didn’t want to wake you. ❞

     IT WAS A partial truth. she had woken up early–––– startled out of her sleep by a nightmare of her time with the calamity so frightening that it was a wonder she hadn’t screamed upon her waking. luckily, most of the others in the stable had still been asleep, & those who were awake were too focused on their own affairs to notice her deep, shaking breathing & trembling form. she could have just waited for him to wake up, but she didn’t want him seeing her that way, so she grabbed something warm for the morning chill, clipped the slate to her belt & decided to take a walk.

     THE PLACE WHERE she had settled hadn’t been far, but she had probably been difficult to spot within the trees of the forest just across the path from the stable.

     ❝ i thought it would be a good time to add a few things to the compendium. we were missing a few different mushrooms, & i managed to get some of the animals in the forest as well! ❞

     SHE HAD EVEN managed to stay quiet enough to finally get a deer registered. though it had noticed her shortly after, she considered the mission a success.

     ❝ i was only going to sit for a moment before i came back! but, i suppose i was still a bit tired. ❞

     WHICH EXPLAINED THE state he found her in–––– having just woken up, roused by the sound of his approaching footsteps. she was still blinking sleep from her eyes, & most of her weight was still pressed against the tree she had fallen asleep against. it was clear, if given the chance, she could easily go right back to sleep.

     ❝ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to worry you. ❞

     PERHAPS IT WAS a bit presumptive of her to think that he had been concerned, but in her still tired state, it didn’t concern her.

[piperslovebot]

Jeric is obviously not your end game, so when and why do you see them happening? Would it be true feelings or more of a revenge fling?

Honestly post s8 (canon season 8). Eric and Donna would have a amicable breakup, Jackie would dump Fez because she wants a real relationship (i hc that they just get drunk and bitch about other people during their “relationship”. Also stolen from @jacquelineshyde)

Jackie would be traveling around the world and end up living in Paris. Eric would also be there and one day, they just happen to run into each other at a café. I wrote a fic based on that. It’s just featured in a flashback tho lol. And things go from there. And it would be a real relationship.

My inbox is like the the Tanner/Fuller House, It’s always open!

[evilwickedme]

Fuck it I'm bored so here's a ranking of different Peter Parkers by how Jewish they are

Dead last, obviously, is MCU!Peter Parker. This version of Peter is the farthest from comic canon to the point of being almost unrecognizable at times. Also, Tom Holland answered the question "is peter parker Jewish" in a Wired Autocomplete Interview a while back with a very baffled "no", cementing him forever as my sworn enemy. So he's actually the only peter parker who, at least by word of God, is canonically NOT Jewish. -1000000/10

Next up is Tobey Maguire's Peter Parker. I think this Peter is... fine, at least he's much closer to comic canon than MCU!Peter, but honestly that's not saying much considering how far the MCU strayed from comic canon or even the spirit of comic canon. But like overall, Sam Raimi's movies just aren't particularly interested in presenting Peter as Jewish, so, eh. 1/10

By far the most Jewish of live action Peters is TASM!Peter, also by far the most comic accurate of live action Peters. I'd be remiss not to mention the fact that Andrew Garfield is Jewish, and he understands the character so fucking well. He stated on record that he played Peter as Jewish and that he sees Spider-Man as an inherently Jewish character:

However, the Webb movies still do not textually define him as Jewish, and the best parts of Andrew's Peter's Jewish subtext are better when viewed in light of the comics. Overall, 6.5/10

Next up is the original, our beloved comic book Peter, pictured here saying Happy Hanukkah in a panel from Matt Fraction's Hawkeye. Comic Peter is one of the most heavily Jewish coded comics characters of all time, which is saying something considering how Jewish comic books are as a medium. Obviously he was created and often written and drawn by Jewish writers and artists, but beyond that his driving ethos and values are incredibly Jewish, and as a bonus he's constantly sprinkling Yiddish and Jewish phrases into his speech, alongside things like the above panel where he outright acknowledges Jewish culture in a scene where everyone else is saying merry Christmas. However, despite the extremely heavy coding, Marvel Comics are fucking cowards, and he has yet to be confirmed Jewish, so I must give him a measly 8/10.

Finally, the cream of the crop, the most Jewish of all Peter Parkers, Into the Spider-Verse's Peter B. Parker my beloved!!! Peter B. is voiced by Jake Johnson, himself a Jewish actor, and is a phenomenally accurate representation of comic book canon - but he also has the unique quality of being canonically, textually, in the actual movie Jewish! It's a bit of a blink and you'll miss it scene, but when we get introduced to Peter B. in his "one more time" segment, we see his wedding to MJ, where he steps on a glass. This is a Jewish minhag - custom - meant to represent the destruction of our Temple and Jerusalem, as well as remind us that sorrow and joy come intertwined, and is one of my personal favorite Jewish customs. It's a phenomenal moment in the best Spider-Man movie, and while this version of Peter would have been my favorite film version regardless, his Jewishness absolutely pushes him even further up. 13/10, no complaints

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” ||[10/…]

— OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader

"You're the one, You're all I ever wanted. I think I'll regret this."

— Mitski, "Your Best American Girl"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (live action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.

The past echoes behind you, as does the uncertain future that lies ahead. Where you go from this point on, you'll have to be quick about making your decision. There is unrest in the waters, and not everyone knows how to swim.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, Buggy being a simp, flashbacks

A/N: .... Half a year later, and an update. As I've mentioned several times already, I'm sorry for the delay. A lot of things have happened these past couple of months, work has been hella hectic, and I'm moving into a house next month. This chapter is not too long, but I hope it'll do until the finale. If you notice any grammar mistakes, no you didn't.

It's tough to have so much love in your heart but nowhere to put it. It festers in your body, churning until it sours and rots into something unspeakably ugly.

You try not to remember, but sometimes your mind possesses a will of its own; sadistic in nature, taunting you with images of events you wish would leave you be. 

You recall that day. You see images of it flash through the synapses in your brain on more than a few occasions; twisting and knotting until they form an enlarged image of what you have dubbed the day you were acquainted with true pain.

It was a rainy day, not even a month after Rogers departed from the world of the living. The winds were picking up, the ship was rocking like she intended to knock you off balance and leave you at the mercy of the waves. 

Even still, you refused to let go.

The tension between Shanks and Buggy was palpable through your fingertips for a while by then, the reasons behind which were entirely unknown to you. The way they looked at each other was vehemently acrimonious, yet you had no clue as to what had detonated this rift. 

Maybe you didn’t want to think about it?

Maybe you were so desperately naive as to believe that things would stay the same, even when it was plain to see that they wouldn’t.

Buggy and Shanks had always been … at odds with one another, but never in a way that struck you strange before. They were simply like that, for as long as you’d known them. Their rivalry was benevolent in nature, just boys being boys, pirates being pirates.

Not that day.

You had been talking to Shanks on deck, moments before it happened. The subject of your conversation has long since evaded your memory, but that’s all you did. Conversing.

Then, Buggy was there, only that he wasn’t there either. There was something different about the bright blue eyes you used to hold in such high regard. They were cold, inexplicably hostile. 

Foul.

There was rage in his irises, and that had been beyond the kind you were acquainted with. It was scorching, tenfold sharper than the kind you received from your foes. 

Only that he wasn’t one of your foes.

It was Buggy.

Your Buggy.

And you were on the receiving end.

“You’re going with him, aren’t you?!” He demanded in such a way that you felt like it wasn’t him at all. An impostor.

Whether it was the surprise or the shock that ensnared you, you didn’t answer at first.

“ANSWER ME, DAMNIT!”

“Buggy…” your voice was hushed, scarcely making your vocal cords vibrate with each syllable. “What are you—?”

“I saw it, so don’t bother denying it!” 

He stomped over to you, and it felt like the planks beneath his feet were about to break. “Just tell me! Tell me that’s what you’re going to do! Just get it over with!”

You tried to reach for him, intertwine his fingers with your own; a safety line amidst a storm. He never rejected the gesture before, but when your digits fell upon his soft skin, he yanked them off like your touch was molten lava.

His limbs were quivering, hands knotted to fists, burning with heat yet trembling with cold at the same time.

Then, he said three words. 

Three words that would come to haunt you for the next two decades to come.

“I hate you,” he snarled. “I wish we’d never even met. Be with him if that’s what you fucking want! What do I care?”

“Buggy—“

For a moment, you didn’t know how to breathe. 

How to blink. 

How to feel. 

You had been stabbed before. Burnt. Slapped. Stabbed. Whipped. Tortured. 

Long before Rogers brought you with him, you thought yourself well-acquainted with all the pain the world could provide. It marred your bones, painted your flesh, scarred your skin. The indents still stained your arms and legs, your face, yet nothing could compare to the agony that followed Buggy’s words.

Your heart felt hollow; submerged in neck-deep waters with no bottom in sight.

“Buggy,” the corners of your eyes were stinging, yet you could not recall if you were crying or not. The feeling was a foreign one, so much so that you had no way of recognizing the sensation. 

He left after that; turned his back and walked away, and it was the last time you ever saw him in the flesh.

The next couple of years following that incident were blurry, you can’t remember much of it. It was as though your brain decided to dismiss those memories in an act of self-preservation.

You remember staying with Shanks for a time, whether loyalty or self-preservation, it didn’t matter. You stayed until just the mere sight of him rendered your guts to stones. 

You had no reason to resent him. He was good, among the best, but he could not provide a cure for your affliction, so you decided to leave the Red-Haired Pirates.

Shanks never begrudged you.

After parting ways with him, it didn’t take you long enough to establish a crew of your own, and a name. “Cross-Hairs”, the moniker you replaced with your real one. It’s been so long since anyone acknowledged your actual one, it’s as if it never existed. 

Some people saw a strong woman with enough broken bones on her record to know she would ensure their survival just as much as she could guarantee their demise, yet they still placed their bets on it.

Thus, the Cross-Haired Pirates came to fruition. Escaped convicts, thieves, general rogues, but efficient people in their own rights.

They feared you as much as they respected you. Your crew was among the most loyal people you’ve ever met. 

If you told them to bark, they’d bite. 

If you commanded them to kill, they’d do so without question, but they’d still leave their lives in your hands. They were your pack of loyal hounds, but you were a wolf in their ranks. Your say was the last of theirs.

You don’t regret letting them go. You had nothing more to offer them after you’d found a reason to stay in Foosha Village. Whatever violence remained in the world; they could find it in your absence. 

Some of them chose to disagree with your decision, demand that you remain their Captain; their checks would never run empty, but they were silenced quickly enough with the swing of your blade.

You’re not proud of the person you were, yet you could credit your survival to her. 

Blood, bones, tears, and pain, it never mattered to you, yet it granted you a superior seat on the food chain.

You became the beast haunting everyone’s dreams. The shadow in their path.

Even so, the pain of other people could not relinquish your own. 

You burned every day and every second for twenty years, so you turned the world to ashes in kind.

———

Long ago, Cabaji found his captain on deck one night with a bottle nursed against his sternum, his back against the railing, and his knee propped up to rest his head on. He was drunk, and although it wasn’t an unusual occurrence on its own, it was still unnerving.

“Captain, you alright?”

“‘m fine,” Buggy answered tightly, lolling his head back and forth. It was dark outside, no moon, yet the first mate could spot the redness across the Captain’s cheeks. “What t- time is it?”

“Just past midnight.” Cabaji frowned at the pathetic display, and with some hesitance, crouched down so he could put a finger on the clown’s forehead. Holy shit, what a fever. “Captain… You’re burning.”

“Burning?!” Buggy wheezed, as if he’d been told the world’s funniest joke. He threw his arm out, bottle raised high, and repeated: “Burning? Oh, that’s just great! I never took you for a jester, Cabaji! That title’s usually reserved for yours flashy truly! You tryin’ to upstage your captain or something?”

“No, Captain.” His right-hand man lightly put his fingers on the clown’s forehead again, mindful of not letting them linger lest he wanted to lose them. “You’re seriously burning up. How long have you been out here?”

“Five minutes, an hour, fuck, twenty years perhaps!” Buggy took another sip of the half-empty bottle in his hold. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it did wonders for his mind. His troubled, asymmetrical library of a brain whose caretaker had long since abandoned their charge.

The jester leaned the back of his head against the hard surface of the railings, tipping the bottle carelessly to the side so that its content could spill onto the wooden floor without any concern. It stained his pants; he'd reek for days, but there was no urgency in ridding himself of the splotch. “How can I burn when there is no sun out, Cabaji? Answer me that.”

“I don’t understand… it’s the middle of the night, the sun will be back tomorrow.”

“MEH! WRONG!” He continued to laugh with no sense of humor. No joy. No nothing. Just hollow breaths meant to mimic his trademark sound. With no short amount of effort on his part, he almost tripped himself trying to get up to his feet. 

His next words almost struck the first mate as … hollow somehow.

“The sun stopped shining long ago.”

———

You can’t sleep, but it has nothing to do with the added weight on your abdomen. 

Buggy, even with his entity body stripped from him, feels heavy and sleeps soundly, and he snores. You can't help but marvel at the view, mindful of your movements as you do. 

He looks to be at peace, completely so. Content. You'd think that he'd be a bit more wary considering he's currently stuck on a ship with people who want nothing more than to throw him overboard, yet here he is.

He's here.

With gentle hands unbeknownst to you, you carefully pry him off of you and settle him back down once your body’s out of the hammock. 

He can rest, you think, and he does so like a newborn.

Even with your body no longer attached to him, you can’t help but marvel at the sight. His eyes are closed, breathing even, as though he’s completely at ease with the world. Light as a feather, you tug a strand of hair away from his eyes and resign yourself to a night of wandering to ease your nerves.

The air on deck is cold. You find Ussop leaned across the steering wheel, sound asleep. You have half a mind to scold him for his negligence, but the other half remind you that in essence, he’s still just a kid. He should rest as well.

So, you find a blanket and carefully pull it over him, hoping that the cold won’t catch him as easily as Arlong’s men probably will at one point.

The waters are calm as you lean over the railings to observe them. The moon isn’t full, but it still dons a soft light across the waters. You relish in the ambience the night sky grants, finding serenity in it all. 

“What’re you doing up?”

You snap your head down to find Buggy’s head poised next to your arms, having hopped over to you on the railing. He must’ve been uncharacteristically quiet, or maybe you had been uncharacteristically caught off-guard. 

He looks tired, but not disoriented as he props himself closer to you. If he’s moody from the lack of sleep, he doesn’t voice it.

“You’ll fall off,” you warn him.

“You can still swim, can’t you?” He points out. 

“What makes you think I’ll jump after you?”

“Won’t you?”

You glance back down at him, and you can vaguely spot an ounce of sincerity in his eyes; a genuine question that conceals the deep-rooted vulnerability underneath. It’s a rare look on him, or maybe it’s the hole of light in the sky playing tricks on your brain.

The two of you say nothing to each other for a while, but your eyes never shy away from each other. To be honest, you have no idea where this … this is headed. You’re not sure what to do about it either. Twenty years has left a gaping hole in your chest, akin to a supernova that swallows everything around it.

Turns out it will still consume any scraps of your youthful affection too, and you can’t tell if it fills the hole up or further deepens the void. You’re not sure you want to know.

“You should head back inside,” you finally say. “It’s cold outside.”

“So what?”

“Being a head surely leaves you at a disadvantage against the elements, does it not?”

If he had shoulders, he’d shrug, but he makes a pretty good imitation of it with just his head alone. “Dunno, but I don’t care.”

“You don’t want to catch pneumonia and die or something, do you?” I

t wasn’t meant as a joke at first, but the moment he hears it, a snnnrrrrrk develops into full-blown laughter that’s a hair width away from waking your crew members.

You don’t know what possesses you, but hearing him laugh like this, so genuinely, conjures a laugh of your own. It’s more hushed and subtle in comparison to your companion, but it’s there and it feels so strange to have it erupt from your chest. 

When was the last time you laughed? 

After a while, your combined laughter gradually quietens and when you look at Buggy next, you see him with eyes the size of plates, like he couldn’t believe what he just witnessed. Not in an alarming way, but in … adoration. Just unadulterated, complete awe.

For some reason, it pains you to have him look at you like this. After all this time. So, you turn your head back to the sea and let your gaze linger there again. You’re reminded that, like the waves, you can’t go back to how it used to be.

“When you’ve retrieved your body, you can go.”

Buggy freezes. "... What?"

"Once you get your body back, you can leave. I'll tell the crew you disappeared." 

It'll be easier for the both of you, you justify. He can get back to being Captain Buggy, and you can go back to being ... someone. 

You're no longer a captain, and you have no interest in playing the part again. He'll have his freedom, and you'll have your contentment in knowing that you have once more gotten to look him in the eyes.

It’ll hurt, but pain is an old friend.

He doesn't say anything for the longest time, but you can hear the cogs churning in his brain. "You mean ... You don't want to go with me, after all this time?"

You glance over your shoulder to the door to the kitchen area. "I ... Care much for the boy, and I know you tend to carry grudges. I don't intend to be involved with that."

"You don't have to be!" Buggy insists, almost urgently, like he's afraid you'll leave on the dot. "You can stay with me, and whatever business I have with the rubbery pri-... I- I mean, the kid, I'll keep it to myself."

You spend a second looking down at him, scrutinizing him of any signs that he's being false, before you avert your gaze back to the waves. Truth be told, you've never thought much of what to do once you left Luffy's crew. 

As far as you're concerned, you don't have anywhere to go back to. Maybe you'll return to Foosha village, pay Makino a visit, or maybe you'll become a wayward at sea. Make coin where you can, visit Shanks sometime?

But joining Buggy?

Now that's a thought you never believed would cross your head for a long time.

"I won't be a good circus performer," you admit.

He makes a pfsssssh sound, tongue waggling out of his mouth. "'Course you'd be! The strongest woman in all of East-Blue! People will bankrupt themselves just to see you in action! C'mon, just think about it!"

You bury the urge to remind him that if anyone will commit any bankrupting, it'll be him. Joining Buggy's crew, after so long? A part of you thinks that it can open a window of opportunity to provide closure. Grant him a chance to make up for his misdeeds.

Another part reminds you that the pain he once brought caused you two decades of misery, so why give him the opportunity to attempt the same once more? In all your life, only he’s ever possessed the power to render you so small. 

You might be among the strongest pirates across the seas, but someone always held you by a leash; dragged you, pulled you into every direction, and demanded your obedience. Rogers freed you from the leash altogether, but Buggy remains the only person you freely gave your leash to. You gave it to him, and he let it go.

Are you willing to hand it back to him, knowing what happened last time?

How does the saying go? 

Bite you once and twice, shame and all that.

"We should head back inside."

———

Coco Village, you think, is a lonely place; void of life; desolate. It reminds you of where you originally came from before Rogers brought you onto his crew all those years ago. A hollow replica of how it used to be.

A feeling of cold stretches across your skin at the memory of it all, like a layer of frost having come back to torment you. 

You glance around at the halfway-demolished huts, and you see its denizens with nothing behind their eyes. Whatever hope once resided in their hearts abandoned them long ago. It brings you no joy, but it doesn’t necessarily bring you any melancholy either.

It is not your sorrow to bear.

Nojiko’s cabin, on the other hand, seems like a pleasant reprieve. It’s not much, but judging by the delicate way she handles herself and her equipment, it’s a home.

A home hanging on a thread from Arlong’s pointy nose.

While Sanji’s helping Nojiko clean the plates, you’re seated across from Usopp, with Buggy’s head poised between you on top of the table. Wherever Luffy and Zoro are outside, you’re certain they’re concocting some sort of plan to get Nami out. 

It’ll be the first time he’ll have to make up a thorough plan, rather than making it up as he goes as he’s done so far.

You’re curious as to how it’ll go, though you’ll follow nonetheless. Your presence here with them depends on whether he’ll make it, and if he does, you’ll finally part ways.

You love Luffy, almost more than you’ve loved anyone else in your entire life. You were there to watch him grow, you were there to patch him up, to make sure he had food when Makino couldn’t afford to spare any. 

You love his hair, his eyes, the way his smile all but brightens up any dark corner in any room. You love him so much so that you’ll leave the moment you know he doesn’t need you anymore.

The thought, while maintaining a rooted spot in your brain, lessens your appetite and causes you to play with the food on your plate. It’s long since grown cold in your negligence.

Suddenly, a loud "BOOM!!" promptly snaps you out of your mindscape and back to reality. Buggy cackles, and although you're not the intended target of his joke, it still irks you to some limited extent.

"Can you just be quiet?"

"Aw, come on. Where's the fun in that?" There's a malicious glint in the clown's eye. "Do you really think your little toys can get through the skin of a fish-man?"

You have to commend Usopp for his resilience. "These are smoke bombs."

"Smoke. That's rich..." Trailing off, Buggy eyes your meal with the subtlety of a puppy looking for scraps, licking his chapped lips. "Makes me think of how long it's been since I've had any smoked fish." 

You spare him a wayward glance, fork ceasing its massacre of the flesh on your plate. Usopp notices the change almost instantaneously as he tinkers with his makeshift bomb.

The reply from the slingshot is quick. “Don’t give it to him.”

“As opposed to what?” You quirk an unbothered eyebrow. “Let Sanji’s meal go to waste?”

“Eat it yourself, then! You’ve hardly had any!”

“I’m not particularly hungry at the moment, and it’s either the trash or the clown.”

Usopp scoffs. “Like there’s a difference.”

“HEY! I’M RIGHT HERE, ASSHAT!”

Sanji perks up at the commotion and looks at you from over his shoulder, hands still wet from the washing. “I do hope you’re not discussing the possibility of discarding my food. Not when Nojiko has been so lenient as to lend us the necessary ingredients?”

Usopp shakes his head. “It’s worse! She wants to give it to the fucking clown!”

Sanji glances at you, and he speaks in that soft tone he primarily reserves for the women in his company. “Was my meal not to your satisfaction, Madam?” 

You incline your head to him in a way that’s meant to convey approval. “It was, make no mistake of it, but I’m afraid that my appetite is rather lacking at the moment.”

Buggy looks between the two of you, and his mood sours considerably. It’s as though a fire is burning in the back of the room, and the scorch threatens to incinerate the furniture and all the people inside. He halfway hopes it will, but although his Devil Fruit has granted him a plethora of powers people can only hope to dream of, prokinetics are evidently out of his reach.

No one notices, however.

Then, a minute goes by, and Sanji finally shrugs. “As much as I can’t condone Usopp’s anger, I can’t condone a good meal being wasted. Do with it as you please, my lady.”

Buggy guffaws while Usopp pales, but your face stays the way it’s always done. If anyone were to notice the way you discreetly inch the plate towards Buggy, they keep their opinions to themselves. 

If Buggy stares at you like you hung the moon and the sun in the sky, you keep your observations to yourself.

You don’t say a word, but you want to say a lot. 

You wish to say more than you've ever said before.

But you don’t.

———

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[despairforme]

This was the first time since Tesla's death that he'd felt any sort of excitement. His blood thirst was properly awakening. He'd hunted, sure, but only for the sake of survival. Now that he was sensing this FAMILIAR reiatsu, the wish to hunt was surging through him in a manner more fitting for a beast like him. He wanted to hunt for sport. He had been unable to kill Zaraki Kenpachi. That Shinigami had been more powerful than Nnoitra could've ever imagined. How the jagged blade had cut through his hierro like butter --- It had been like some kind of dream. Or nightmare. He wasn't sure. What he DID know, was that it would be incredibly satisfying to kill and eat a Shinigami. He hadn't been able to slay Zaraki Kenpachi, but Ichimaru Gin? He could kill him instead.

Las Noches was quiet. He was so accustomed to silence that it took a long moment for him to miss the noise. Not being alone had, perhaps, been one of the nice things about living in Las Noches. Sure, a lot of the times he'd just wanted to be by himself, but not always. Now, he had no choice. Should he mask his reiatsu? Surprisingly enough, Nnoitra was incredibly skilled at that. It was how he hunted, normally. An ambush predator. He didn't think there was any need for that in this situation. Ichimaru's reiatsu wore every sign of injury.

Had Las Noches been filled with other Arrancar, and other Shinigami, Ichimaru might've been able to hide his own reiatsu, and thus avoid Nnoitra's sharp senses. But the only ones here were the two of them, and Ichimaru's spirit power stood out like a beacon. He was currently hiding in a room Nnoitra had never been to. He could tell the direction and the distance between himself and the Shinigami. He headed towards him. Not hurriedly. He dragged Santa Teresa behind him, creating a large crack in the white stone floor. He almost hoped Ichimaru would try to run. He wanted to hunt the injured Shinigami. Wanted to make him desperate. He didn't care if he gave him time to prepare for the confrontation.

Ichimaru could run, or he could try to hide. It would be futile. Maybe he'd just want to face him head-on? Ichimaru was not stupid, and now he didn't have Aizen to save his ass. Nnoitra ran his vacant hand along the wall. If his sense of reiatsu was correct (and it always was), Ichimaru should be behind this wall. Some pressure was added, and his fingertips dug into the stone, to leave long scratch marks as he walked. Slowly.

❝ Come out 'n play. ~ ❞ He grinned, but there was no humor. Only bloodthirst. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. 

CRAWLING OUT FROM THE RUBBLE OF KARAKURA TOWN HAD TAKEN ALMOST ALL OF GIN'S REMAINING ENERGY, draining lifeblood across broken concrete and steel beams as he heaved his broken body away -- in the chaos of Karakura Town being transferred back to the World of the Living. No one noticed the shuddering Garganta creeping open, Gin tumbling through it ---- they had cleared the area believing him to be dead.

He may as well have been dead. The subsequent half-crawling through familiar pale halls, white stone dyed red in the trailing of his stumbles and strains ---- half-awake by the time he collapsed into the safety of Aizen Sousuke's quarters, the tower left intact despite the ravaging of Las Noches prior. Gin knew even in the haze of his near-unconsciousness that the Kido were active, protecting the space so long as Aizen still drew breath.

And Kamishini no Yari hadn't slain him, it had sent the evolving Shinigami skyrocketing into new heights, and thus... now nothing could. The Kido would hold.

His bleeding needed to be slowed down, at the very least -- he understood that even in the swaying state of barely alive that he had been left in, a shaky hand reaching to fire off a blazing Kido that seared shut the marred and ripped muscle and nerve exposed at his right shoulder ---- a heat so sharp it choked the air out of Gin's lungs, he hardly heard himself scream.

The next forty-eight hours were a blur to Gin, his wavering consciousness intermittently interrupted by a sniffling sound of a weepy Arrancar to his right that Gin didn't even bother to turn his head to observe. He reckoned they could kill him if they wanted, but they hadn't -- thus it didn't serve him to expend his depleted energies trying to see who the fuck even cared enough to come to his aid. The Kido would've rejected the unsavory, anyways, a strict barrier ---- with only a few exceptions allowed for entry to the Lord's private quarters. In the less fuzzy confines of Gin's mind, he knew it could be only four options; Starrk, Harribel, Nel, or Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra was dead, as was Starrk, and Harribel was injured by Aizen enough to inspire a similar retreat ---- so... Nel.

Gin had collapsed somewhere on the floor near the grand bed, though he didn't entirely mind the cool surface all that much. It likely kept him from fully fading off into 'sleep' for a lengthier period of time... and never waking up again.

There was no sense of time when Gin began waking with more clarity, eventually having to clamber his way towards the bathroom to hazily assess the damage for the first time ---- Nel was gone, likely scurried off in her childlike form to avoid conflict with the waking Shinigami. The excess of lost blood had dried, sticking to both skin and tattered white fabrics dyed red, one of the first sights to greet Gin as he slumped before the mirror. The hours spent stripping down and cleansing himself were miserable, wounds weren't closed and tugged back into weeping at the slightest motions -- but at least he managed to stop the bleeding of his lost arm's wound before anything else. Otherwise, he would have been bled dry by now. The subsequent patchwork of the ripping slash that carved its way across his chest from left shoulder to right hip was pathetic at best, bandages messily strewn and fastened in a way that spoke of how Gin really would have preferred an extra set of hands -- but it'd do better than nothing.

Altogether, a shitty collection of days found Ichimaru Gin not quite yet succumbing, much to the disappointment of anyone who knew him.

The following week was spent collecting himself enough so that he could stand and walk without immediately wanting to die. The pain became bearable through grit teeth and a stiff stance, leaning heavily to the nearest wall to navigate towards a stockpile of food, first aid, and other necessities to build up his small sanctuary within Las Noches. The Kido barriers surrounding this portion of Aizen's tower would do well in deterring attempts on his weakened life, but Gin had added his own to the mix -- reiatsu obscuring spells that did well enough to trick Aizen Sousuke himself into believing Rangiku had perished at his blade. That'd do well enough in making sure he was left alone, at least, so long as he remained within the perimeter.

Another week passed, mostly spent resting, eating what he could stomach, and caring for the wounds he sustained.

Only when he was capable of painfully dressing himself in a spare set of robes, struggling with the lack of two hands to fasten his obi (yet stubbornly persisting, purely driven by spite) did Gin venture to step beyond the threshold of Aizen's quarters, venturing to gather supplies from elsewhere in the palace's walls. He needed replenishment. This was, perhaps, the most dangerous part. Hueco Mundo saw a rather black-and-white way of survival; kill or be killed. With Aizen's absence, the beasts would flock to that system yet again and Gin wouldn't blame them for seeing the opportunity to kill a wounded man -- ranks didn't matter.

With Shinso at his hip, Gin kept his reiatsu to a low simmer before moving down the halls -- seeking a hidden room of supplies with the press of his palm against a panel disguised against the seamless wall around it. He cast a quick Sentan Hakuja to transport the food and other supplies out to Aizen's tower, saving himself the trouble of trying to carry everything in his remaining arm's limited capacity.

Now that he was out and walking, however, Gin wanted to assess the survivors of Las Noches -- and thus moved toward the close-by surveillance system room, slipping in through the doorway to find his array of monitors undamaged. The cameras throughout the palace were operational, for the most part, save a few monitors merely giving static feedback when he toggled the view via the control panel. Only when he switched through the uncollapsed portions of the palace to flip past all corridors did he notice the stalking figure, recognizable even in his bloodied and feral state ---- and Gin let out a deep, groaning sigh of noise in observation of the surviving Espada.

Out of the few who survived, Nnoitra simply had to be one of them. And, he was heading straight towards this way, likely looking for him. On the hunt.

❝ -- you've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me. ❞

[ellieexoxo]

QUICK LORE DIVE GUIDE 📖

WARNING: Spoilers ahead for Rafayel's, Xavier's, and Zayne's story. It is not heavy, but it is necessary to understand.

Due to the requests I've been receiving in Discord for a lore guide, I decided to make a brief post about it. This won't be able to answer all the questions, so feel free to ask me. I'll do my best to respond. Please note that this is simply my personal guide and not an official one. What works for me may not work for others.

A few things to note:

Anecdotes can be read in its natural order, but it's set the way it is for narrative experience. My order is just based on what I noticed came before or after.

There is no prioritization for LIs, but I follow the order of narrative in Sarah Brightman's theme song. This goes by Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne.

Myths' conjunction to the Linkon timeline is currently and canonically unknown. There are theories and speculations in the community, but this is not that kind of post. This is a focus on making lore more digestible efficiently.

While this may be an efficient guide, I also suggest looking back to the text every once in a while to refresh memory. Not necessary, but it's helpful with understanding the story.

— RAFAYEL 🐟

ㅤ✩ㅤAnecdotes: 3, 2, 1 ㅤ✩ㅤMyth: Forgotten Sea ㅤ✩ㅤMemory: Fragrant Dreams ㅤ✩ㅤMyth: Sea of Golden Sands ㅤ✩ㅤRafayel's Trailer (Fish) ㅤ✩ㅤBond Memory: Nightly Stroll, Ebb and Flow ㅤ✩ㅤWorld Underneath: 5, 3

Due to numerous events in Rafayel's story with time that isn't specified, his story is the most convoluted one to follow. Take time with this one.

— XAVIER ⚔️

ㅤ✩ㅤAnecdotes: 3, 2, 1 ㅤ✩ㅤMyth: Shooting Stars ㅤ✩ㅤXavier's Trailer ㅤ✩ㅤMemories: Secret Garden, Galactic Harmony ㅤ✩ㅤWorld Underneath: 4, 6

Time traveling is involved in Xavier's story, so Anecdote 3 will be easier to understand when reading the Myth. After the Myth is the Linkon story.

— ZAYNE ❄️

ㅤ✩ㅤAnecdotes: 2, 1, 3 ㅤ✩ㅤMyth: Tower of Secrets ㅤ✩ㅤZayne's Trailer (00:17) ㅤ✩ㅤBond Memory: Nostalgic Sweetness. ㅤ✩ㅤWorld Underneath: 1, 2

Zayne's story involves different timelines, so Anecdotes 2 and 3 will be easier to understand after reading it.

I suggest watching the prologue in Chapter 1 and the epilogue in Chapter 8.

Once again, this is just a guideline. What may work for me may not work for others. If more lore is released in the future, I will be adjusting this post to it. As much as I try to, I'm not well-versed in all of the LIs' lores, so feel free to provide suggestions.

[rp-partnerfinder]

Hello and welcome to RP Partner Finder!

The goal of this blog is to help 18+ roleplayers find other adults to write stories with. We aim to create a space for mature, like-minded people to find eachother. As such our primary demographic is older adults.

We are not a roleplay blog, we are a roleplay advertising blog. If you are 18+ and looking for other roleplayers you can submit an ad to this blog and we will post it.

We do not discriminate against most adult content. However, we do not accept ads with requests for underage users or characters, real person fiction, or ads that contain racists terms. For further details, please read our rules before submitting an ad.

-- TEN-ISH RULES FOR SUBMITTING TO RP-PARTNERFINDER-- FAILURE TO ADHERE TO THESE SIMPLE RULES WILL RESULT IN YOUR AD BEING DELETED

1. Not all stories posted contain smut or dark themes, but YOU MUST BE 18+ TO SUBMIT OR CONTACT PEOPLE FROM THIS BLOG.

2. Your ask/submission MUST include the minimum age you are seeking. ex "LOOKING FOR 18+ 25+ 30+ etc." or some variation. Stating your own age is not enough. Posts that include "No Minors"/"Of Age People"/"Legal Age Only" and no minimum age will be DELETED. This rule is not negotiable and is the most commonly broken rule, so please do not avoid this step.

3. We no longer allow "maximum ages" in ads. (ie 20-25, 18-22, etc.) We believe this excludes many of our users and goes against the spirit of this blog. For further explaination you can read this blog post and this blog post.

4. We will not publish ads looking for underage roleplayers or characters. NSFW involving child characters (canon or original) will not be posted. NO EXCEPTIONS.

5. Child and minor characters MUST be aged up, regardless of NSFW material. It is the blog's assumption that all characters are 18+ or that characters will be aged up for RP unless stated otherwise.

6. This blog is lgbtqia+ and kink friendly, but keep NSFW mentions vague (this is to avoid getting the blog flagged). Listing kinks/fetishes is okay (for now.)

7. No Real Person Fiction. This includes KPop bands! RPs looking for a certain faceclaim are allowed. It is this blog's assumption that "actor-verse" requests are not for RPF.

8. When looking for it, please use “omegaverse” when making your ad. Posts containing A/B/O in any form will result in your ad being deleted.

9. Do not send ads multiple times. Posts on this blog are queued and the current wait time from submission to post is 5-7 days. We are no longer answering asks or DMs about when your ad will be posted.

10. Group roleplays are allowed. You may also send submissions to advertise your own RP Ad Blog. We will not promote blogs that have underage users. For additional guidelines please see this post.

11. Mods have final say in any postings and any non-ad material will be tagged "mod mail." All hate mail will be deleted, no exceptions.

Thank you for reading! 

For additional advice on writing your ad, check this post.

[theconstantsidekick]

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (8) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angsty McAngsterson!

Summary: Rhodey's down for the count, and Romanoff and Y/n are the ones to be blamed. If they'd just listened to Tony, none of this would have happened.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: this took me a grand total of two fucking months

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (7) | Captain America:Civil War ft. Static (9) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

He turns at the sound of the door to the observation area slamming open. But in all honesty, he feels her before he even hears her. 

“How is he?” She asks. A question thrown out into the air, addressed to no one but born of worry and desperation. She’ll take whatever she can get. He can tell—so will he.

Guilt, however, is an unfearing emotion. 

He doesn’t answer. He stares at her.

He stares at her, and he stares at Romanoff who’s shouldering her weight. He stares at his sister, desperate and pleading and all he wants to do is tell her to fuck off.

Instead he drags both women outside, out of sight, to a balcony.

“The doctors say he shattered L4 through S1. Extreme laceration in the spinal cord,” Tony replies, finally. “Probably looking at some form of paralysis.”

“Fuck,” Y/n whispers. It sounds almost involuntary, like it spilled out of her mouth without thought. Like she barely realizes that she’s said it. But then maybe the sound of her own words hit her cause inhales abruptly and screams out, “FUCK!” She’s grabbing at her hair, barely able to contain herself from pulling them out. She’s pacing up and down the frankly modest stretch of the balcony.

“Y/n!” Romanoff shushes her. She doesn’t want them to get noticed, they cannot risk standing out. They already have a target on their back, Tony knows cause he’s the one who put it there.

The rebuke, however, falls on deaf ears. Y/n seems too engrossed in her journey of self-deprecation to even notice Romanoff, let alone her plea to quiet down.

In any other fucking moment Tony would’ve felt like an absolute fucking dickwad about it but in this one?

Well, let’s just say, he’s unfearing.

“Fuck indeed, Stark!” He bites back. He watches her steps halt and her jaw clench. Her eyes shut at his tone, her head jerking away at the crudeness in it. She even takes a step back, holding on to the railings, trying to keep herself tied to the present. Tony, though, carries on without fear, “None of this would have ever happened if it wasn’t for you.” Pointing at her, he adds, “It’s all your fucking fault!”

“I know,” she replies in a small voice. “I know,” she hits herself over the head, regret laid bare in her every action. “I should have… I should have calculated better, worked faster, tried harder to slow his momentum.” She’s rambling. “I tried to—I tried to do it in my realm, but I’m not used to that place. I should have been able to control him but I barely take anyone in there. I just… Lack of practice. I was so afraid of my powers I never… I never thought I could use it to help people so I never… I didn’t…”

Fuck.

He can’t take this anymore. “I meant siding with Steve.”

That seems to shake something awake in her. “For fuck’s sake, Anthony. Were you always this conceited or did I punch you a little too hard during drills?”

“That would make this your fault too.”

Y/n smiles then.

Just like that. There she is. 

That’s his sister, Y/n Stark who’s always been synonymous to the word ‘unbreakable’ in his dictionary.

He sees her shift from being absolutely lost to something very close to livid.

She doesn’t need to hold on to the rails anymore. She stands up straight, meeting him eye to eye—her determination is back.

Tony has to adamantly remind himself that he is not going to regret his words.

She smiles and he can see Romanoff step away from the siblings—she’s the only team member who’s spent enough time with them to know to let the Stark siblings fight it out amongst themselves.

“Maybe you are Howie’s son after all, huh?” The words fall out of her mouth all twisted and angry, coated in venom. Before Tony can retort, she continues, “You wanted to lock us up to find a way to feel less shity about the fact that you created the fucking Terminator. Well, guess what? You’re on your own, kid. I’m not walking the plank for you. Not this one!”

“Oh fuck off!” Tony rebukes, cause when the fuck will his sister get off her high horse? “I never asked you to do that! I’ve never fucking asked you to sacrifice anything for me.” 

Y/n straight up laughs at him—mocking and cold. “Yes, yes. And Tony Stark isn’t Iron Man. it’s just a machine playing at being a bodyguard.”

“I never—”

“Tony, you might not have said the words but you knew damn well what you were signing me up for the moment you told the world you’re Iron Man,” she tells him. “You’ve never had to ask me to do anything for you but that’s simply because you didn’t fucking have to.”

“That’s completely unfair. Being Iron Man was my thing!” He beats his chest, “Mine.” Walking closer to her, “You shoved yourself into this gig because you just presumed I wouldn’t be good at it.”

She chuckles, hollow and unkind. “If you want to pretend that the bullshit you’re spewing makes sense, I’ll let you fucking continue but do not fool yourself into thinking you’re some undefeatable hero.”

Tony takes another step towards her. “I don’t think I am undefeatable! I just know I am more than capable of holding my own.”

“Yeah. ‘Course. That why you sporting that busted lip?”

It’s a taunt through and through. The lip’s bust cause she landed a (frankly—and Tony would deny it till the day he dies—damn near artistic) blow straight to his face. He’d provoked her to do it—thrown the first punch and then taunted the shit out of her. All this while knowing full-well she was completely on the defensive. 

She loves them all too much. 

The Avengers are the closest thing she has to a family, he knew she wasn’t going to lift a finger unless he made her. So he may have said a few colorful things, itching for a fight. 

And now, he’s getting it.

“You proud?” He strikes back—he’s never been to back down from a fight. Why start now? He’s going to meet her punch for punch, word for word. He is not in the mood to lose any more today. He doesn’t have the luxury. He backs down now, it was all moot.

“Excuse me?” Y/n asks, all her previous cockiness gone.

“I asked if you were proud of it? I mean, you must be. It was a good hit.” The tone’s so harsh he throws himself off too. He knows—well, he’s consciously aware of the fact that he is the one speaking the words but they sound distant. As if he’s just a passive listener as the whole scene unfolds.

But he isn’t.

“Tony! That’s not fair!” Romanoff speaks out, clearly shocked at Tony’s insolence.

Makes two of us, he thinks.

“What’s not fair is that my sister, my best friend, the one person in this whole fucking world who was supposed to always, always be on my side, is siding with her perky blond boytoy,” he exclaims, heartbroken. Because could this shit be any worse? No, seriously, could anything be worse than this?

He’s been repeating himself, shouting himself hoarse and he knows it seems like he’s overreacting—like he’s blowing this all out of proportion. But he is not. You have to understand that while he’s had the most extravagant upbringing, he’s always been comfortable and well off, he’s been alone for most of it. His father was—well, his father was Howard Stark. And his mother, God bless her, couldn't bridge the gap between him and his father no matter how hard she tried. Despite that he cherished it—having them—even in this broken way, he really did love his parents. Then he lost them. Both of them, together in one fell swoop.

Then there was that bitch Obediah. 

We don’t talk about that bitch Obediah.

Tony was too fucking smart for most of the people he’d met, no one could keep up. Some were jealous, while others just wanted to get closer to him to bask in his limelight. All of them, all his interactions throughout his life were always… transactional. He was always alone.

Except her.

Y/n came to pick him up from school, not because Mom or Dad had asked her to. Nope. She came to pick him up so she could take him to Chinatown and have spring rolls. If Tony ever asked her why she’d pick him to go along with her, her answer was always a confused look and annoyed string of words asking him, ‘why would I take anyone else?’

And the question was always, always genuine. Because Tony was her bestest friend in the whole fucking world.

Now, think about it. How would you react if your best friend sided with Steve ‘Golden Boy’ Rogers?

“Fuck you, man. I know you think you’re the center of the universe but you’re not. I’m not siding with him!” Y/n bites back, angry and overwrought.

But that’s not his point. She’s missing the fucking point. “You’re not siding with ME either!”

Her head falls then. “Tony,” she exhales heavily, hands on her hips. She’s wearing the tattered up remains of her clothes from the fight. If he looks for it hard enough, he can see her exhaustion, almost feel it. Even as she speaks, the fight’s leaving her, he can see that too. “I spent my entire life running away from this. I cannot go back. You don’t understand because it’s not the same for you…” He’s never seen her this… this jaded.

He can’t afford to get distracted.

“Because I haven’t had shit hauled at me?” Tony challenges, undeterred and unwilling to move even an inch. He may not have gone through what she has but he’s had his own share of shitty fucking experiences.

“I am not saying that, Tones. I’m not. I’m just saying it’s different for you than it is for us,” she explains, her tone patient and sympathetic.

“She’s right, Tony,” Romanoff cuts in. “We’re not downplaying your experiences, we’re not trying to take away from it. We’re just saying it impacts us differently than it does you. We have lived very… different lives.”

“We’re a little wary of ‘organizations’ insisting on controlling our actions,” Y/n surmises. 

What comes next is not one of his best moments.

It’s not something people will talk about in his greatest hits. Nope. Never. It will, however, make the top-three-dumbest-shit-Tony Stark-ever-did list. Fuck—Tony will look back on this moment for years to come. He’ll come back to it time and again, think and then rethink his words. He’ll spend night upon nights, sleepless and disturbed—knowing that he fucked up here. He’ll know that this was where he fucked up. His words won’t be held against him, no. Not by her, never by her. But he’ll still know it was the most horrible thing he could say.

But Tony doesn’t know that yet.

He doesn’t know that yet because guilt is an unfearing emotion.

“Aren’t you a little tired of this schtick?” Tony asks, cocking his head with a cruel, hollow smile. “Aren’t just a little bit tired of using that same old fucking sob story for every single decision you ever make in your godforsaken life?” He looks around, chuckling at the thought. It’s a chilling sound. “At some point you’d have to stop milking that shit, don’t you think?”

It’s only when he finally looks at her that he realizes he’s fucked up.

Her face is hard—harder than stone. There’s a fury in her eyes he’s never seen there before, even for her enemies. He’s never seen that look on her face in his entire life. It sends a chill down his spine. 

When she speaks, her words are low but prominent. “My trauma is not for you to use as a punchline for your baseless argument.” They leave no room for an argument anymore. They leave no room for anything but shitting your fucking pants. 

He overstepped.

Big time.

Fuck.

“Tony,” Romanoff cuts in, clearly able to sense that this discussion could lead to bloodshed. “I’d suggest you take a step back.” Her eyes are pleading him to be more cautious with his words. “Think before you speak.”

“I—” He doesn’t know what to say. He clenches his fists. Trying and failing to gather his thoughts.

The pause that hangs in the air is so heavy it’s almost painful. He thinks maybe it’ll never end.

But it has to. 

“I get that you’re scared but what happened before won’t happen again. This isn’t like Madripoor. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. And, I mean, com one, you might not trust the Accords yet but you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. right? So why not give this a shot too?” Tony questions in a softer voice, but his desperation persists.

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D. was mine,” Y/n insists. “It was mine and Peggy’s and Howard’s, and Colonel Phillips’. We found it, Tony. It was my home.”

“I didn’t know you founded S.H.I.E.L.D.” Romanoff notes, almost sounding bewildered. 

Maybe she sounds bewildered, could easily be any other emotion in the book cause Tony, even after all these years, has made no progress on being able to read the former spy. 

“I didn’t want to be on the books, I preferred my life off the grid,” She informs her. And the strain in her words doesn’t hurt Tony at all. It doesn’t sting. Of course not. Nope. “We made it for people like me, to protect them, help them.” She sounds like she’s reminiscing. It somehow rubs him the wrong way.

“And yet, you left that too…” Tony comments, disparaging and snide.

“I had my reasons,” Y/n provides, and just like every other time she’s mentioned it, there is a hesitance in her words. 

“Yeah! You keep saying that, and I have no clue what the fuck this elusive reason is.” He has never pressed her on it before, but well, considering all this newly spilled bad blood, why not push his luck just a little bit further? “You told me about all your missions gone wrong, even your run-ins with the Winter fucking Soldier, and it wasn’t any of that. So what possible reason could you have for quitting an organization that you created to protect yourself?” 

“Do we have to talk about this?” She asks, annoyed.

“Yes. You always feed me the same bullshit about how you just had to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. that you couldn’t trust them anymore, that it was the necessary choice but whenever I ask why, all you do is blame Hank Pym’s fucking haircut.” Tony’s anger comes back to him again, picking up right where it’d left off. “You bail at the fucking sight of a regulatory body, why the fuck is that?”

“Because Tony! I couldn’t trust them anymore!”

“And we’re back here again,” he takes a step to her. “WHY NOT?!”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. WAS TESTING MY BLOOD!” She yells out, shutting him up completely. “Without my knowledge,” she adds much quieter.

“No…” It can’t be. “No. Dad—Dad wouldn’t let that happen,” Tony tries to argue. He can’t be sure though, he didn’t know his father well enough to bet his life on it. But he wouldn’t have let it happen. He wouldn’t.

“He’s the one who was running the tests.” 

For anyone following along, Tony’s heart hasn’t been doing well since he got abducted by his own fucking father figure, but this somehow seems to break his heart all-together. He never saw that coming.

Romanoff seems to be just as surprised as him, ‘cause she looks pale and remains absolutely mute.

Y/n is the one who talks then, trying to cut through the silence. “He… He was worried. He thought if he understood my powers, he’d be able to help me. And, I mean, can you blame the guy? You house this random teenager in your house and every night you wake up to a fucking earthquake cause she had another nightmare. Anyone would want an explanation, a way to control the powers.”

“But… He was your best friend,” Romanoff says and Tony feels like he can’t fucking breathe.

Y/n, though, just shrugs, like it wasn’t a cruel breach of trust. Like Howard Stark hadn’t stabbed her in the back. Like it was any old thursday. “He was,” she agrees with ease, before turning to Tony and continuing, “and sometimes friends do stupid shit in a naive attempt to try and help.” Fuck me with a chainsaw and call me Samantha, Tony thinks. “It wasn’t all bad. He’s the one who figured I wasn’t all alien.” She says it with a smile, like it was fucking nothing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Tony manages to ask, confused beyond words.

“And give you another reason to hate him? You had plenty. It was between us, we solved it and moved on like adults,” she tells him, calm as ever. 

“Y/n! He broke your trust!” Tony argues, taking a step towards her, finally finding his voice again.

She just rolls her eyes, “He got curious, Stark. He’s a scientist, can you blame him?”

“So am I! And I would never do that!,” He yells. And only when the words are out of his mouth does he understand what he just said. “I would never do that to you,” he insists in a smaller voice, with a softer tone.

She smiles then, true and open. “I know, Tones. I know.”

It’s… It’s hard for him to process this information. He doesn’t know where to put this, how to categorize it. He has absolutely no clue what to do with this.

So he asks instead, “Did mom… did she know?” He’s scared but it’s better than the alternative of having to come to terms with the whole situation..

“No, no nooo!” Her hands move around animatedly to drive the point home.”If Maria had known he wouldn’t have been alive long enough for you to exist,” she shakes her head with a fondness he doesn’t know where to place. “No, she didn’t know. He got the ass-reaming of the century from Peggy, we burnt the leftover blood samples and called it a day.”

Fuck. “Fuck!” Tony curses, absolutely lost on what he should do now. Cause what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

“Stark,” she urges, softly, “let’s focus on the problem at hand, let’s deal with the fake doctor, let’s handle that and then we can come back to this. We’ll fight this, together, united. The Avengers stay together, we fight our way through this. We agree on a document that works for us, for all of us.”

Tony shakes his head, tumbling back. “You don’t understand Y/n, you have to sign the Accords… there are no neutral parties. There can’t be. You sign this or it’s over.” She tries to say something, but he marches on, he needs to get this out. “After what happened in Sokovia, after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D. after Lagos, the world governments are not going to settle for anything less. You have to see that.” He sighs, exhausted and man, can someone fix this pain in his shoulder please? “You can make amendments,” he suggests. “However many you want, okay? Make amendments to your heart’s content. Once you sign this, we can fight about the specifics, Y/n. We’ll have the best lawyer in the business on our side! Just sign it, Y/n. Please. They are out for blood, Ross more than anyone else. He will not let you go.”

“He won’t be able to find me,” Y/n tells him, with a straight face.

“If he can’t find you, how will I?”

He cannot lose her. 

He just fucking can’t. Not… Not over this.

It seems to hit her too. It’s only then that he notices she looks a lot less fierce than she usually does. “Tony, there is no scope for amendments.”

“Once you sign—”

He’s cut off. “Tony, read the fucking document. Come on! Have I taught you absolutely nothing? Read the thing before you sign it. There is absolutely no scope for amendments. There are too many loopholes to stop the issues from even being raised. It’s solid as a stone, I won’t be able to barter for even an ounce of freedom.”

“Y/n…” He’s fucking desperate. “We need regulation.”

“Tony this isn’t regulation… I can’t sign this.”

This is when Romanoff speaks up. “Tony, Steve's not gonna stop. If you don't either, Rhodey's gonna be the best case scenario.”

And somehow her words are harsh enough to make him angry all over again. “You let them go, Romanoff.”

“We played this wrong,” she tries. But he’s not taking any prisoners.

“'We'? Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA,” he throws back.

“Anthony,” Y/n scolds him.

“Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?” Romanoff rebukes.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he tells her, “T'Challa told Ross what you did, so… they're coming for you.”

Just as the words slip out, Y/n’s phone chimes. 

“Either Tony’s a fucking psychic or the Secratary of State just has impeccable timing,” she comments looking down at her phone. When she looks up at them her face is stern. “He’s on his way, he’ll be here in 5. You should go.”

“Me?” Romanoff asks her, bordering on pissed. “We should go.”

Y/n just shakes her head. “We leave together, we won’t be able to lose them. You go ahead, I’ll buy you time.”

“Y/n—” Romanoff’s protest is cut short.

“Just go. Given the fact that my superpower is straight up teleportation, I think I’ll fare much better than you,” Y/n assures her. “Go.”

Reluctance clear on every inch of her face, Natasha Romanoff unwillingly begins to walk away. But not before one last (metaphorical) punch to his gut. She looks at Tony, “I’m not the one who needs to watch their back.” With that she makes her swift exit, leaving the balcony and seamlessly blending in with the crowd.

Slowly, both siblings, without words, come to stand next to each other leaning on the railing, looking at the view ahead.

“How are you planning on buying time?” Tony asks her then.

“Will you tell on me to the teacher, Stark?” She asks, teasing.

It’s a truce. It’s temporary. 

He still thinks they should consider signing the Accords and she still believes it’s not the way to go.

But despite all that, Tony can’t help the way lips curl up. “I’m not a rat.”

“Aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Cause that’s what all the rats say,” she tells him with a mischievous smile. “I would know, I’ve been the rat.”

A chuckle slips out from his lips.

She joins him easily.

He might not be sure about much right now, but he knows for a fact that if he were to lose her, he wouldn’t survive it. “What happened to Rhodey… you know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

The smile drops from her face. “Wasn’t it?”

“You have to know it wasn’t.” He needs her to know at least that. He needs her to know no matter what happens, this was not her.

“If I’d known my powers better, had I… I don’t know. If I had not been so afraid of them, if I’d practiced once I knew I was safe, none of this would have happened.” Her head falls back, eyes closed. “If I had control over my powers, Wanda wouldn’t have been enough to break me. Would have saved us so much trouble.”

“There would still be a raging Hulk on the loose,” Tony contends.

She rolls her eyes. “People know the Hulk. They understand—scientist gets angry, becomes green and Hulk-y. It tracks in their head. But it was different for me, the first time I ever showed my powers to the world was when I was out of control…” She closes her eyes, head falling. “Maybe it would’ve been better to not hide them in the first place,” she whispers.

“We don’t know that,” he ventures, ‘cause it’s true. “We don’t know what could have happened. All we could say with certainty is that we’re both a couple of dumbasses.”

“I’ll have to agree on that one,” Ross’s voice booms as he walks onto the balcony. 

Both siblings turn to eye the intrusion. It’s Ross flanked by… Ross—the other Ross—Everett and some other dude in a suit he’s never seen before. But he looks annoyed, old and has glasses on so he just presumes the man must be important as well.

“Nice to see you too Mr. Secretary,” Y/n replies with an easy smile. But it’s not open. It’s the one she wears just before she’s about to make someone’s day a lot worse.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, young lady. You should have taken Romanoff’s approach and run when you had the chance,” Ross comments. And honestly? Yeah, Tony kinda wants to rescind his fucking signatures cause siding with this man is seeming less appealing by the minute.

But Y/n just laughs. “It’s not like you’ll be able to stop me if I were to run even now,” and just to fuck with him, she glitches an inch off to the side.

Ah, that’s where I got the innate need to be an ass.

“Now you’re just showing off,” the smaller Ross says, sounding more charmed than pissed.

The smile doesn’t leave her face, “Maybe I am.” She glitches a step closer to the group of men. “So, Mr. Secretary, did you need something from me?”

“Still a fiery little thing, aren’t you?” Ross mocks. Tony can’t help but roll his eyes at his hubris. “It’ll die out soon enough, once we get you situated at the Raft along with the rest of your team members.”

Raft? Wait… What does he mean by the Raft? Why would he put them there? That’s not—it’s not right.

He’s losing his shit.

But Y/n frowns, innocent and demure, like she knew about it already. Like she knew that’s where they’d put them. “On what charges am I getting arrested, Mr. Secretary?”

And on his part, the Secretary of State takes her mock naivete in stride. Letting out a short laugh. “Well if you’ve taken the time to read the Accords, you’d know that using your powers on the field without the explicit say-so of the UN committee is illegal.”

“I didn’t use my powers.”

That finally breaks whatever rope was holding the bridge of Ross’s anger together. “Do not play dumb with me, Stark. This might have worked with Fury, but I’m not him.”

“Don’t I know it. Never thought I’d miss that old croak, and yet…” she comments, still smiling. “But my point still stands. I did not use my powers.”

Before Ross can say something that might put a sailor to shame, the shorter Ross intervenes, “We have footage of you fighting Barnes at our facility.”

“I didn’t fight Barnes, I fought the Winter Soldier. And on that issue, I’ve got two words for you, self defense,” she tells them easily and a smile just slips out on his face. He may not agree with her on this—profoundly divisive issue, but he’ll never not be in absolute admiration of his big sister fucking around with authorities.

“You can’t be serious,” the shorter Ross throws back, with a confounded smile.

“Check the footage if you like,” Y/n takes a few steps back, leaning on the railing behind her and pulling out a box of cigarettes from her pocket. “I didn’t throw the first punch…” She puts one between her lips, casual and easy. “I didn’t even use my powers until he came at me with his fucking metal arm and his fucking enhanced strength.” She pulls out her lighter. “What did you expect me to do then? Get beaten up?” She lights the cigarette.

“Yes,” Ross supplies.

She smiles at him, taking a drag. “Might be your style. Not mine.”

“And what about at the airport in Germany?” The shorter Ross asks.

Y/n shrugs. “Never threw the first punch.” Another drag. “Besides, I was defending myself from a rag-tag group of superheroes who were after me with a vengeance.” She smiles at her own words looking at Tony on her side.

And just for that, he decides to be a bitch too. “What if I were to sue you for assault?” 

Her smile drops instantly and for a second he thinks maybe he won that round, but alas. “You could have, if you’d fucking listened to me! You should’ve let me come to you. I have told you about a million times; you are not the biggest guy on the field. You fight well but not well enough to be cocky, you are supposed to let your opponent come to you.”

“The best defense is a great offense,” Tony says lamely.

“That’s what idiots say when they have shit defense! If you let them come to you, you get the advantage of not just using their momentum against them, you also get to know the move they trust most because 9 times out of 10, you want to start the fight off on a strong foot so you use the move you’ve practiced often, but also the one that you’re most comfortable with,” Y/n scolds him, hands waving everywhere, clearly annoyed with him beyond words.

“That seems like an exaggerated statistic,” Tony tries.

He fails.

“It’s not,” the shorter Ross supplies. “She’s right.” He earns a stern look to shut up from Ross.

“You could’ve sued me if you’d just listened to me. I’m easy to provoke, especially when the person provoking me is you.” She takes another drag. “Look at me right now, I want to punch you so bad.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Today clearly has not been a day of peace thus far, so why not continue to choose violence?

“That’s enough!” Ross yells. “I’ve heard enough out of the both of you!” The man looks like he’s well past blowing a gasket. He looks at Tony, “Stark, you are well past your 36 hours to get me Rogers,” he turns and fixes his gaze on his sister, “And as for you… Stark, feel free to cry to the judge about how it was self-defense when you’re on trial. Till then there’s a cell with your name on it on the Raft, that’s where you’ll have to throw whichever fit comes after this one.” The way he speaks it’s evident he doesn’t believe that she’s a threat, not to him. “We’re putting you under arrest.”

“Oh?” Y/n asks. She waits a second and then suddenly there’s a sound of static that rings out. She is next to Tony one second and the next she’s standing against Ross, toe to toe. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth. “You and what army?”

A vein pops out on Ross’ temple. 

“You’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Stark,” Ross warns.

“Or maybe you’re forgetting that I might look like a young and ‘fiery little lady’ but I’m not. I have been doing this since before you were even a thought in your father’s head.” She takes a drag, slow and somber. “You best learn to respect your elders, son.”

And just like that, she’s gone. Glitched into nothing. 

Tony tries his best not to let this little spark of pride overtake his guilt.

Read the next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list : @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @rockybutmakeitlame @romanoffswoman @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987 @lilfuturescars @hailqueenconquer @third-broparcelicito

hit me up if you wanna be added to the tag list. I have taken so long to update so much of my tag list has just deactivated their accounts. ouch hahahaha (cries while laughing)

[syndrossi]

Resonant Info

Story link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55981141/chapters/142169611

Update schedule: These days, every other Thursday in the morning (GMT-8).

Tags of interest:

#resonant fan works: any and all fan works based on/in the Resonant 'verse. Mostly art, all of it amazing!

#resonant asks: you ask, I answer!

#resonant 'verse au concepts: little AUs that I play around with

#resonant 'verse reverberate au: specific AU where Resonant!Daemon wakes up before the twins are born and rushes back to Runestone to raise them with Rhea; by turns fluffy and plotty

#resonant 'verse rescue au: specific AU where Ser Thoren succeeds in "rescuing" the twins from the Gates of the Moon. Things mostly play out the same: Rhea dies and claims them as hers, but without the Crayne+Volantis kidnapping catalyst, so they've lived peacefully with Daemon in King's Landing for the past two moons...

#resonant 'verse reversal au: specific AU where the twins are born as girls instead

#resonant 'verse restoration au: specific AU where Resonant!Daemon and the twins are transported, along with their dragons, to canon AGOT a week after the Stark children get their direwolves. Jon and Rhaegar end up in Winterfell, while Daemon shows up in the Vale, and Robert Baratheon is on his way north to ask Ned to be his Hand... (The twins are 10 in this AU.)

#resonant trick or treat fills: several ficlets written based on the Halloween trick or treat set of prompts

#resonant dragon lore: what it says on the tin

#resonant dvd commentary: me dropping the deep lore on chapters, and occasionally a deleted scene or two

#resonant missing scenes: unlike deleted scenes, which were written to be in the story, these are little "outside" scenes that might come from reader prompts or just for fun

🎃 Halloween trick-or-treat prompt list

[despairforme]

So big and strong can you pick me up please............i wan big strong man hold me....................

❝ Don't fuckin' tell me what 'ta do. ❞ Don't even ASK. Why the FUCK would he lift someone up just because they asked nicely? The only reason why he'd pick someone up was if he lifted them by their throat to break their neck. Well --- He DID like being called big and strong though. But that didn't mean he was going to be all cooperative and "hold" someone.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

I don’t know if you’ve answered this question before, but do you think that movie Gwen will possibly have the same trajectory as comic Gwen?

I don’t think so, but I’ve seen some people in the fanbase talk about it so I’d like to hear your perspective.

(Takes a deep breath) BOY IF I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT IT.

Look guys, I read Spider-Gwen comics, I am even reading the current run of it (I know there is only 2 issues, but DAMN I HAVE THOUGHTS.)

Ehem, yeah, movie blog, let's continue with the movie.

Pals- There is no way to fit her comics in the movies, is not feasible.

Want to know how Gwen debuted in her original one shot, to present her character for the spider-verse?

Her dad is telling Gwen that she needs to go to college, Gwen insist that she loves music (You guys have NO idea how much work has been to keep that band together, Gwen doesn't just quit.) Spidey shenanigans, Gwen needs to show her dad that she is spider-woman, and...her dad accepts her, and then she goes away, where Spider-UK finds her, wanting her to fight for the rest of the multi-verse.

Heck, fun fact; the discourse at the end of the movie, about "this badge is my badge?" That's from this first chapter.

And this isn't even getting in how Harry straight up not being here, and Gwen being so nonchalant about leaving the band- means that multiple story lines from the comics would seem out of place, if not impossible in movies.

Some people try to bring up Earth-8, that shows that apparently, Miles and Gwen are destined to be together.

...Had any of you learned, that in that same storyline Gwen says she feels pressured by destiny, and isn't really into it. And then the next time in the Spider-Gwen comics, Gwen admits that she wants to find her own path, and deviates from the Earth-8 canon, meaning she is finding her own story away from Earth-8 and Miles?

I know all of you like the concept of an earth where ghostflower is happy together, but that storyline in the comics is NOT about that.

The other possibility is the newest run of Ghost-Spider comics, where Gwen is now living in the same universe as Miles, and there are indicators of them being close.

... (Sigh) Look, is too early in the run to say what the hell is going on there; Gwen being in the same universe as Miles is not bad; but Gwen is a teen right now, so I would rather not end in that situation right now?

No I am not just saying that because I am having a bad feeling about this new run, is more than that.

So speaking as a comic fan: Please let's leave the two things separately because there is a track record of failure when either medium tries to imitate the other.

[kitkatkey]

HarryKim AU fic recs? I gotcha. Heed each fic tags and double check for smut if you'd rather avoid that.

1) "in the car outside" by paisleycowboys, gym teacher Harry/rcm Kim au fic. They're neighbors, Kim's new in town, and Harry can't help but observe Kim observe him who's observing Kim. They don't get along at first but when feelings catch!!! Oh boy. Oh brother. They're so good for each other.

2) "at this point it was years before..." by RaccoonScientist, originally written in Mandarin translated into English, BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN AND SO MUCH FUN!! Harry and Kim met as children, grow up together as best friends, alternate universe where they do not become cops. I read and reread this fic bc I couldn't get it outta my head.

3) "Static over voice" by sosioban, SO SO SO SO FUCKING GOOD I REREAD THIS RECENTLY (March '24) OOOOOO FUCK!! Harry and Kim meet by chance online playing video game. It is silly. There is pining. They do figure it out.

4) "Du bois coffee" by harvestar, modern au where they work at Harry's coffee shop. Of course they fall in love. Of course they inevitably kiss. Cute fluff. Cuno is mentioned, wish there was more of him in this one.

5) "My Dear Elf with the Clipboard" by Sosioban, more fluff!! Set modern day during Christmas. Kim is a pining mess. He wants Hot Santa so badly it's stupid. Hot Santa is ofc Harry.

6) "Your Turn with the Frog" by sosioban, OH GOD ANOYHER ONE BY SOSIOBAN??? YES!!! love this, read it in one day instead of doing schoolwork. Rushed all that work. Don't regret it. So silly and filled to the brim with smut. Alice, Soona, and Ruby are Kim's friends, Kim is gay, Harry is trans, they're fuck buddies who are both teachers, what can wrong? Kim definitely won't catch feelings. Definitely... WILL BE REREADING THIS ONE

7) "All In Due Time" fic series by Oxycontin. Love love love- so sad sad sad. Kim ages in reverse. His days are numbered. He slowly relearns how to live and how to love and what comes next for everyone else has already happened for him. As time goes on he forgets things. He grows younger. Aging in reverse like Merlin. Some good ol Pale fuckery ya know? I love this series. Extremely well written. Tears my heart up. Read it. I promise it does not disappoint with the angst.

8) "Pale Moon" by greatdistractions, is a werewolf Harry fic set post game. Harry doesn't remember being a werewolf, Kim goes to find him when he doesn't go to work and doesn't answer any calls, and finds a wolf in his apartment instead. They go back to Martinaise. Some cute shit happens. Quick, simple, cute read.

And these last two are set post-game and serve more as continuations than AUs but they're still So Fuckin Good:

9) "birds of a feather flock together" fic series by Thegrimreaperisanerd. OH OH OHOHOHIHHHHHH!!!! I love this series, the second fic is currently in progress and is getting so so so so good!! Taking place post canon, the first fic (Imprinting) is a casefic with Harry and Jean and Harry is so desperate for his new bestie (Kim) he buys a pink phone second hand and does some very illegal very questionable things. DUCKLINGS THAT DROWN is the sequel exploring more of their (Harry and Kim) relationship and their relationships with the 41st. The author is incredibly sweet, highly recommend yall to read and leave em a kudos/comment trust me they'll notice.

10) "Birdcage-verse" fic series by Sarielle, phenomenal writing, excellent execution of a case fic- ADOPTED CUNO ALERT!!! SEAMLESS ORIGINAL CHARACTERS!!! There is so much world building that has gone into this series. I cannot recommend this series in particular enough. Really it has it all.

Wow, genuinely thank you anon, I wasn't expecting such a detailed response! I've read some of these already (incredible tho so i should reread) but I will absolutely check out the others!

[revalinkcommentfest]

2024 Revalink Comment Fest prompts are here!

As a reminder, these prompts are simply meant to help guide you as you look for Revalink fics to leave a comment on. You are, of course, welcome to comment on any and all Revalink fics for the duration of this event and beyond!

April 7: From 2024

Has it been a while since you've checked the latest updates in the Revalink tag? Give some newer fics the love and comments they deserve!

April 8: Old Favorites

Have any Revalink fics that live in your mind rent-free? Let's give them a reread and a comment!

April 9: Alternate Universe

We all know and love canon-verse Revalink, but today try branching out and commenting on some Revalink aus. Modern, royalty, historical, you name it!

April 10: <100 Kudos

Let's show some love for the Revalink fics with less kudos!! Read and comment on fics with less than 100 kudos

April 11: 10k+ Words

Today, appreciate the longer fics in the fandom. Anything over 10,000 words is fair game

April 12: From the Community Board

Authors, it's your time to shine! This community board is where you can promote a few of your Revalink fics to the fandom. Commenters, use this board to find some new fics to read and comment on!

April 13: Post Your Totals

The final day of the event! Tally up your totals and post them on Tumblr with the hashtag #Revalink Comment Fest 2024. Let's celebrate the love and support we've shared throughout the week!

Got any questions that haven't been answered? Send an ask or dm this blog!

[petermlx]

@silver-goggles-guild

Peter as a dad

Going off of canon (movie wise) and off of personal headcanons that I’ve seen, I’d say that Peter would be a really good dad.

He grew up with a younger sister (as seen in DoFP. Whether that’s Wanda or Lorna or a completely different kid is up to you) and in the same movie, we’ve seen that his mother drinks alcohol. So there’s a high chance pointing to the fact that Peter’s mother might’ve been too drunk to raise either of her kids.

So Peter, with both of his parents absent in his childhood, would swear to himself that he’d raise his sister better than their mother ever could.

And he’d get good at it. He’d probably even steal a book on parenting just to make sure he was going about things the right way, one of the few things he’s ever done by the book.

And as he and his sister gets older (she looks to be around 7 or 8 in DoFP and Peter’s probably in his late teens at the same time) he’d do other things too. Like go with her for parent-teacher conferences and back to school nights. Peter would go trick-or-treating with her on Halloween and would play dress up with her.

So I’d imagine that even after she’s all grown up and in high school or college and Peter’s moved into the mansion after Apocalypse, all of those parental instincts would just stick. He’s spent practically his entire life being his sister’s ‘dad’, he wouldn’t just forget all of that.

In the beginning, Peter definitely wouldn’t realize that he was even doing it. Like, he’d read bedtime stories to the students that wouldn’t be able to sleep or he’d make snacks for some of the students. He’d help the students with their classwork (even if he didn’t understand half of it) and would watch them whenever they went outside to play or practice with their mutations.

And then Peter would realize what he was doing and would double-down on it. His parental instincts weren’t something he was ashamed of and he sure as hell wasn’t ashamed to admit that he cares for the little rascals of Charles’s school.

And then those instincts would bleed into his friendships with the older mutants. At first it would be simple stuff like making snacks for them when they said they were hungry in between meals. Or he would help patch them up after training or missions even though they had Hank to do that. And then it would evolve into little comments like-

“Hank, you gotta sleep more, man. How are you expected to be our great engineer if you can’t even see straight?”

Or,

“C’mon, Charles, we were all teenagers once. Let them go to the mall. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be sure to watch over them.”

And then it would evolve into different, more serious comments such as-

“Scott! Don’t do that, you’re gonna bust your head open!

And,

“Kurt, buddy, I know your tail is strong but you can’t just go around picking everything slightly heavy up with it. You might drop it and I don’t think our good doctor here is well-versed in the ways of literal tail bones.”

Or,

“Jubs, I understand that you want a ‘hot summer bod’, your words not mine, but you really have to eat more than that. It isn’t healthy to cut back on food just because you want to get skinny. Here, have some more food and I’ll teach you later how to get a hot bod like mine.”

At first, the X-Men definitely don’t realize what’s going on, they just think that Peter is being protective over them because of Apocalypse (though that wouldn’t explain the things he’s said to the older mutants who are more than capable of taking care of themselves). But then, for whatever reason, Peter’s little sister comes to the mansion.

And all of a sudden the others are watching from an entirely different perspective on how Peter acts with others. He’s questioning his sister about her school while he’s making her a snack and how she’s doing and if anybody is giving her any trouble. And she kinda laughs while rolling her eyes and answers with a “No, Dad. Nobody’s giving me trouble,” and it’s not exactly said sarcastically as most little siblings would be with their older siblings.

And the others would analyze Peter’s behaviour with them and then would have that collective thought of ‘Oh. Peter acts like a dad to us’.

After that realization, the others would start to be more welcoming towards Peter’s words of advice and caution, even though it felt like he was babying them from time to time.

I’m just saying that with his family, biological or not, Peter would act like a total dad.

(I feel very strongly about this, if you couldn’t tell.)