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moongothic · 1 year ago

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When people talk about there being "evidence" for the theory that Crocodile could be Luffy's other bio-dad, they tend to point out these kind surface-level details, easter eggs and Crocodile's odd behaviour during the Marineford-arc. And while all of that is very important as it lays down the groundwork for explaining the theory to people, unironically I think there's even more to the theory. When you really think about the implications the theory has on Crocodile's character and how that would tie into the long running narrative elements and themes in One Piece as a whole, I think it kind of changes everything

So, in this post I want to analyze and speculate about the theory, going a bit "beyond" the basics we already know. Heavy emphasis on the speculation-part, because I'm not here to provide conclusive evidence to prove that Crocodad is Real, rather, I'm here to speculate about how it could be real in practise, and try to explain how so many things would suddenly add up if the theory was true. I'm here to prove that Crocodad would make sense on a narrative level.

Quickly starting with a brief-ish summary of the Basic Thesis of the Crocodad Theory, just so we're all on the same page:

Naturally, if you already know the basics, feel free to skip this bit

Crocodile has secret beef with Ivankov. Although there is no proof that the beef has anything to do with Crocodile being trans, when you go out of your way to introduce a new character whose power is Magic HRT, it's a natural conclusion for people to assume that if these two know each other, then Crocodile could be a trans man. And naturally, if we're assuming he's Luffy's other dad, then he has to be trans

Dragon, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, is in canon considdered to be the world's Most Wanted Criminal. He is extremely famous as pretty much everyone (except Luffy) knows who he is

Crocodile knowing the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army doesn't inherently mean he was involved with the Revolutionaries, nor that he has ever met Dragon, but being familiar with Ivankov means it is entirely plausible the two could've met in the past

(Sidenote but I do have a loose theory how Crocodile could've been involved with the Revolutionaries; not relevant here but if you wanted to read it, here you go)

Despite this, when Dragon is revealed to be Luffy's father during the Summit War, although Oda includes the reactions of all the other Shichibukai, he very specifically leaves out Crocodile's reaction to the revelation. This is suspicious as hell, because surely, between his ties with Ivankov and Dragon being world famous, he would've had some thoughts about Luffy being Dragon's son (wrote about this in more depth)

For Crocodad to be real, we are assuming that Crocodile did not know Luffy was Dragon's/his son until Sengoku's announcement during Marineford, this being the reason Oda didn't show that reaction; it would've been too revealing

(We are assuming that Dragon never told Crocodile his name; this is entirely plausible considdering his full name had been a secret to the whole world (as explained post-Enies Lobby), and Dragon had kept the existence of his son a secret even from Ivankov and Kuma. We also need to assume that Crocodile did not name his son, otherwise surely he would have realized Luffy was his son when they met in Alabasta)

This is why Crocodile ends up saving Luffy's life twice in Marineford (as well as Ace's) when until the revelation he had no reason to even care about the idiot

Crocodile choosing to save Luffy's life probably means one of two things; either he really hates the World Government more than the child who foiled his plans to take over Alabasta, or he cares about his son despite knowing Luffy hates his guts

Again, this is just the basic concept, if you want to read more and see all the more easter egg-type hints, I'd reccomend this post, this post and this post (the third one repeats most of the stuff the first two do in but less detail, but also adds a few more notes extra notes). But now that we're generally speaking on the same level, we can delve deeper.

Please, go get yourself a drink and maybe a snack, this is gonna get long and deranged

Going to start with a fairly small thing.

Through out the series Oda has been repeatedly hinting at Crocodile having A Past, some History, A Backstory that lead to him becoming the way he is. But Oda hasn't actually told us what that backstory is. On the surface, this wouldn't be that strange, after all, there's lots of characters whose backstories we haven't seen, for example Mihawk. We know essentially nothing about that man and how he became the way he is. But what's different about Crocodile as opposed to Mihawk and many others, is that Oda hasn't hinted at there being an interesting backstory there that's worth telling. Like I'm sure Mihawk could have an interesting story, but Oda hasn't alluded to that at all. So the fact that he has repeatedly told us that Crocodile does have a backstory, but at most gave us two whole breadcrumbs in an SBS, is a little suspicious. (For clarity, the hints we've gotten so far to Crocodile's backstory were his repeated comments about not trusting people and how he had given up his dreams in Alabasta, while Summit War gave us the Secret Beef with Ivankov and his grudge against Whitebeard. In an SBS in Vol 78, Oda did confirm that Crocodile had his ass kicked by Whitebeard after he became a Warlord in his early 20s, and that he went "quiet for a while" until he started his heroics around his 30s, setting his eyes on Alabasta. Indeed, we have some breadcrumbs of lore, but this hardly paints a full picture. We know nothing abot what he was doing in his late 20s, which would've been the time Luffy was born btw)

What I'm getting at, is that Crocodile clearly has a backstory, but the fact that Oda hasn't spilled the beans yet would indicate to me that it's likely Oda has been saving up that backstory. Which would make sense, Crocodile hasn't been in a role in the story yet where spending time to tell his story would've been appropriate. So really, we're just waiting for the right time for those beans to be finally spilled. But what makes things even more interesting is that One Piece has a very specific track record of not giving its villians extended and dedicated backstories/flashbacks. Villians can cameo in other characters' flashbacks (Moria, Arlong), they can have their own little segments inside the the heroic characters' flashbacks (Orochi, Doflamingo), they might even get their own SHORT dedicated flashbacks (Lucci whose flashback was 6 whole panels long). But villians do not get their OWN, dedicated and EXTENDED flashbacks. Flashbacks are for the heroic characters. There has been a single exception to this rule and that was Big Mom. That's it. And while I'm positive this rule is going to be broken at least one more time before the series ends, really. What do you think is more likely to happen? That Crocodile becomes such an important villian again, this late in the game, that he deserves his own flashback so we can finally find out what his deal is? (When Blackbeard and Imu are also there mind you) Or that Crocodile's role in the story might not be that of a villian anymore, and that Oda had been saving up his backstory all this time because it could reframe his entire character and how we view him?

Oda loves taking inspiration from various mythologies and pop culture alike to bring life into his work.

This is nothing new or surprising, we all know this. For example, Oda did base the original seven Shichibukai on the Seven Heroes from Romancing SaGa 2, each Warlord more or less matching a description of one of the game's villians. Crocodile just happens to match Wagnas, the queer coded leader of the group, who had the noble swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side when the group was created to save the world from a great evil. Meanwhile Alabasta as a whole took a lot of inspiration of Egyptian mythology, Crocodile in that arc matching the role of the crocodile-god Sobek. Sobek is a protector god ("Guardian of Alabasta"), associated with military power (literally what Crocodile wanted to obtain) and fertility, carrying the epithet of "he who loves robbery" (man stole a lot of things, from money and lives to rain and nearly a whole dang country). Sobek's name is speculated to come from the words "to impregnate" or "to unite", both being potentially very interesting coincidences (depending on if Crocodad Real and what Cross Guild's purpose in the story is going to be) (if you want more details you can go read the Wikipedia article on Sobek). (Also I'm sure there's something interesting to be said about Sobek's fusion with the sun deity Ra, Sobek-Ra, and how Luffy is our lil Sun God)

The reason I'm pointing this out is that based on Oda's hinting and/or references to mythologies, people have in the past been able to predict certain plot twists and reveals way ahead of time. For example, most recently people were able to predict that Saint Saturn had been the one to give Ginny (and by extension, Bonney) the Sapphire Scale-disease based on a certain legent about ushi-oni, which is what Saturn just happens to be. (Here's one of the many Reddit posts that predicted that reveal) And there is one particular story from Japanese mythology I want to bring up, as it may be relevant to our Crocodad Discussion here. The story of Toyotama Hime. Here's a quick TL:DR;

Princess Toyotama had travelled from the depths of the ocean onto land so she could give birth to her child. When the time to deliver the baby came, Toyotama asked for her husband, Hoori, to not look at her while she gave birth, as she would change into her true form. And while Hoori promised he wouldn't look, he couldn't keep the promise. He peeked in on her wife as she was giving birth, only to discover that she had transformed into a gigantic wani. Horrified by what he had seen, Hoori fled, leaving his wife and child behind. Hurt by what had happened, Toyotama abandoned her son and returned to the ocean. (You can read different summaries of the legend on the Wani-article as well as Toyotama's article on Wikipedia)

Now historically speaking, "wani" in mythology can have referred to serpent dragons, sharks or sea monsters. But in modern Japanese, the word translates to "crocodile". It's what Luffy and a few other characters call Crocodile on numerous occassions. Hell, Crocodile's favorite pets are his gigantic bananawani. Historically speaking it might be more accurate to say that Toyotama had transformed into a sea serpent, but for our intents and purposes, Hoori abandoned Toyotama after she became a crocodile.

I can not tell you what exactly the relationship between Dragon and Crocodile was like, how it began and how it ended. There's no way for us to know when Crocodile transitioned (beyond "after giving birth to Luffy"), nor do we know how Dragon found out about it and how he reacted to it. There's a million options for how things could've gone down, and nothing to truly go off of to even make a guess. All we do really know, is that 1) Dragon does not seem to wear rings at all. 2) Crocodile wears rings, but leaves one out specifically on his ring finger, where one would normally wear their engagement/wedding ring (mind you; for the first half of Alabasta Oda drew Crocodile without a ring on his middle finger, but from the latter half onwards, through Impel Down and Marineford, it's always the ring finger). 3) This suspicious ass comment

"I don't know they have kids or not" YEAH RIGHT

If we wanted to use the story of Toyotama Princess as a jumping off-point though. It's entirely plausible that soon after giving birth Crocodile transitioned thanks to Ivankov's ability, and because Dragon wasn't into it, the two broke up/got divorced. The unfortunate reality is that many couples end up breaking up if/when a partner comes out as trans and chooses to transition. Just like Hoori abandoned his wife because she turned into a crocodile, Dragon could've divorced Crocodile because he transitioned into a man. And Dragon would not be a bad person for it (as long as he was respectful about it). If Dragon is straight and just couldn't see himself being with a man, that's just how it is. At the same time, this would be a gut wrenching, painful thing to go through, and this kind of heartbreak could have devastating concequences for Crocodile's character. Concequences that could play deeply into One Piece's long running narrative elements, which is why a lot of my speculation from here on does end up relying on the Toyotama Myth possibly being inspiration for Crocodile's secret backstory. I acknowledge there's no quarantee that's the case, but I am here to make an argument for why it could be.

QUICK SIDENOTES

As mentioned before, although Ivankov holds the key to a weakness Crocodile has (in their own words), we don't know what that weakness is.

Crocodile joined the Shichibukai in the first half of his 20s (SBS vol 78), and he would've been 27 years old when Luffy was born. This means it's nearly impossible for Crocodile to be stealth trans, as he would've been a public figure for years; which means, Crocodile could be openly trans

A single earring on the right ear can be read as a "gay earring". The man does like his jewelry, so there's no proof he's signaling that he's gay, but if Crocodile's happy to let the world know he's into men, then surely there'd be no issue with him being openly trans either

His transition would've happened 17 years ago pre-timeskip, so in-universe it'd be old ass news and not worth bringing up to the readers if it doesn't add anything to the current plot or his character (which it wouldn't have during Alabasta nor Summit War)

If Crocodile's secret weakness wasn't him being stealth trans, and Ivankov can't detransition him against his will (can't hit Crocodile without Armanent Haki), then what is that secret weakness Ivankov knows about?

As Dragon told Kuma: "A child is a parent's weakness". If Ivakov was anywhere near Crocodile when his child was born (so that Crocodile was able to transition as soon as the kid was out) Ivankov could/should know about the child existing, and would thus be able to blackmail Crocodile by holding the information of his secret child hostage

However, Ivankov did not know about Dragon having a child

Meaning if Crocodile and Dragon were in a relationship, it must have happened in secret, otherwise Ivankov should've realized Crocodile gave birth to Dragon's child

So One Piece has a lot of narrative elements that come up time and time again through out the story,

And some of these have become more and more relevant in the story especially post-timeskip. This is not a comprehensive list of all of them, just the ones that could heavily tie into Crocodile if he were Luffy's other dad, as they could reframe his character. So, let's look at these narrative elements, how they've appeared in the story so far, and speculate how they could reflect in Crocodile.

🐊 People existing in the wrong bodies / bodies that have been altered (and what it means for you to be "you"/how does your body reflect who is on the inside) 🐊 Queerness

Wrote about this more in-depth in this post, but to keep things short; Thriller Bark, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa and Wano all heavily featured characters who have had their bodies either temporarily or permanently altered, sometimes with the person's consent and sometimes without it. Not to mention all the various characters through out the series who have gone through similar things, like Franky, Kuma as well as Brook, among countless others. As well as every Devil Fruit user who can transform their body (including every single Zoan user). People, the way they inhibit their bodies and the freedom to be who you are is very important to One Piece. That is already a very queer-coded narrative, but then we also have explicitly queer characters. Queer characters, who have been deeply important to the story, and whose presence has become more and more prevalent with time. Not to mention how queerness in general has been "escalating" over the course of the story. There's this video from Berry for A Thought on YouTube which explains this more in-depth, but to summarize the most important observation from the video; we have slowly gone from Kuina wishing she had been born a man, to non-binary drag queens (first one being able to temporarily change their own bio-sex by turning into someone else, to the second one being able to change anyone's bio-sex permanently), to two pre-transition transgender characters. All we really need for this escalation to reach its "peak" is if we had a (named, non-background) transgender character who has already transitioned. Unsurprisingly, Crocodile could fill that role really nicely.

🐊 Loneliness

Loneliness is generally speaking a very important theme in One Piece, as it's on the opposite side of coin with friendship on it. So many of our main characters have suffered for years from loneliness, by being ostracized and rejected by their communities, abandoned by their families, sometimes suffering for decades for the sake of their loved ones because they had promises to keep. Luffy himself considders loneliness to be most painful, scary thing imaginable.

Loneliness is something queer people struggle with. A lot. Being rejected by your loved ones for who you are is a painful, common experience for many. It alone can keep many queer people in the closet for years and decades, because the fear of being left alone and abandoned is too much to bear. Some people are accepting of queers but only as long as they stay "over there", pulling a full 180 when a family member comes out. Some people only ""accept"" trans people as long as they don't transition. And while some people may appear to be accepting of you when you come out or are early into your transition, many (trans men especially) lose friends and support the more they start to pass. Crocodile does not trust people. He set up base in Alabasta sometime around the age of 30, meaning he spent around 14 years by himself (until he recruited Robin), unable to trust anyone. That's a long time to be alone. Of course, there may have been a practical side to why Crocodile chose to spend over a decade in utter emotional solitude. If he was scheming to take over a country, then having anybody close who could leak his plans out and foil them would be dangerous. Hell, it's exactly what happened thanks to Robin. But having your significant other destroy your ability to trust people and then isolating yourself to avoid further heartbreak and "betrayal" could be another, potential reasoning as to why Crocodile chose solitude.

🐊 Two failed weddings and one relationship that never was

In Thriller Bark we witnessed Nami almost get married off to Absalom. On Whole Cake Island, we almost saw Sanji get married into Big Mom's family. During Egghead arc, we saw how Kuma never got to have the relationship with Ginny he had yearned for deep inside. I already mentioned Crocodile's missing ring. How his relationship with Dragon might not have worked out because of his transition. How Crocodile's queerness could've lead into solitude, out of distrust. We already have three relationships that never worked out. So how about a fourth one.

🐊 What makes a family (/chosen families) 🐊 Family reunions (with blood-relatives) 🐊 What it's like when your blood-relatives are really horrible people

For the first half of the series, One Piece did very much focus on the concept of chosen families, as most of the Strawhats grew up with non-blood relatives that they all considdered just as much family as their actual blood relatives (if not more-so); Luffy with Ace and Sabo, Sanji and Zeff, Nami, Nojiko and Béllemere, Chopper and Hiruluk, Franky and Tom's Workers. Chosen families are deeply important to this story. At the same time, a lot of post-timeskip OP has actually revolved around (blood) family reunions. Punk Hazard was about sending the kidnapped children back to their families (as well as Momonosuke to ""his father"" Kin'emon), Dressrosa was about reuniting all the broken families Doflamingo (and his family) had torn apart. Whole Cake Island was about Sanji reuniting with his blood family while being forced into a whole new one, and Wano allowed Momonosuke to reunite with his sister (and Kin'emon with his wife). On Egghead we've gotten to see the gutwrenching reunion between Bonney and Kuma, and we are all dying to see Luffy meet Dragon eventually. Not to mention all the other reunions many of us are waiting to see, like Shanks and Buggy, Moria and Perona. Luffy and Garp (currently held hostage by Blackbeard), Mihawk and Zoro. And many others. But indeed, not all the family reunions have been good. Sometimes, the blood relatives have been horrible people. Like Big Mom (to some of her children and husbands), Judge and Kaidou. Sometimes, your blood relatives suck ass.

Needless to say, Sir "I tried to bomb one million people to take over a country" Crocodile is not exactly the greatest guy around. But what might be arguably more important is that... Why is Crocodile a plot-relevant character again, on an emotional level? As I mentioned, characters like Buggy and Mihawk relate to certain characters, so potentially getting to see them reunite with other characters would have emotional weight behind it. Mihawk and Buggy are both relevant characters both to the plot but also on an emotional level, their return to the spotlight makes sense. But then we have Crocodile, a fellow member of Cross Guild. Sure, he's definitely there to help move the plot along, no doubt about that. But emotionally speaking, why the hell is he here again? Is there a character he could "reunite with" that would have that same kind of emotional weight behind it? You could argue Vivi perhaps, but between Vivi hating the man's guts and and Crocodile probably not giving a damn about her, I'm not sure that reunion would have that much emotional weight? Robin on the other hand could be very interesting, considdering she did live under Crocodile's protection for four years until she betrayed him, an action that seemed to have stung Crocodile. That reunion could be deeply interesting.

But you know what this post is about. If Crocodile is Luffy's other dad, then those two coming across each other would suddenly have enormous weight on it even if Luffy himself didn't know about it. Because if Luffy were to find out, Luffy would then have to decide if he'd acknowledge Crocodile as his other dad or disown him. Mind you, Crocodile already knows that Luffy hates his guts for what he did in Alabasta, not to even mention the fact that he tried to kill him three whole times. Luffy has every reason in the world to hate Crocodile. The man surely understands that. But then there's the fact that Crocodile isn't Luffy's mom, but his transgender father. If Dragon rejected Crocodile for being trans, why would his son be any different? Which raises the question, would Crocodile be afraid of that? Of meeting Luffy again? Of Luffy somehow finding out and then getting rejected by him too? How does Crocodile feel about any of this? Now of course, we the readers already know that Luffy canonically loves and respects queer people. Luffy would never look down on Crocodile for him being his dad (the warcrimes are different). But Crocodile doesn't know that. And this is what I mean by there being emotional weight on these two reuniting, as anything that could go down between these two could have massive concequences for Crocodile's character. And please, keep in mind, although Oda hasn't dwelled too deep into the subject in One Piece, there are people who aren't accepting of queers in this world.

This prince, and his entire kingdom, could not accept his mother for who she was. An entire country crumbled because their queen came out as trans. So just like there are accepting families (including Kaidou strangely enough), there are unaccepting, queerphobic ones too. So the fear of rejection would not be unfounded. (Also, if Crocodile and Dragon are divorced then those two coming across each other, especially after The Shit Crocodile pulled in Alabasta, would have a lot emotional weight on it too.)

🐊 The things you are willing to do and sacrifice to protect your loved ones

Shanks gave up his arm for Luffy. Zeff ate his leg so Sanji could have actual food. Béllemere died for her daughters while Nami sacrificed her freedom in an attempt to save her village. Tom gave up his life to protect Franky and Iceburg. Robin attempted to sacrifice her life so the Strawhats could continue their journey in peace. Sanji gave up his freedom for Baratie and the Strawhats. And so many countless more lives, given up for the sake of others.

So people often give Dragon shit for being a "deadbeat dad". I've discussed this in the past, so to keep it short; the World Government went out of its way to hunt an unborn child, hurting countless pregnant women, mothers and newborns while chasing for Gold Roger's son. A child who had "evil blood" and had to be exterminated from the world. Similarly, the World Government went out of its way to put a massive bounty on an eight year old child for the crime of being able to read ancient texts. Dragon would have known and understood that if he ever had a child, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, his child would become yet another target for the World Government to hunt, just like Ace and Robin did. This should also apply to Crocodile; if the WG found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries they would no doubt strip him of his Shichibukai status and make him a wanted man again. Crocodile's child would thus be in just as much danger, even if the Government didn't realize it was ALSO Dragon's son. If Dragon wanted his son to be free and choose his own path in life, Dragon had to keep his distance from Luffy. The same would apply to Crocodile. Luffy probably ended up in Garp's care, not because his parents didn't want to raise him, but because they wanted Luffy to be free.

But as long as the World Government exists, if they ever found out about Dragon having a son, that child would end up in danger, he could become a target. And the only way to ensure that child's safety would be by eliminating the ultimate threat. The Government.

Now that is the ultimate goal of the Revolutionary Army anyways, something Dragon and co have been working towards for over two decades now. But most of their efforts have gone into freeing small countries by overthrowing corrupt governments and gaining support, little by little. Which is understandable, the WG is impossibly powerful, you can't just walk into Marijoa all willy-nilly, take out the Tenryuubito and free the world, the Government's forces would take you down within seconds. Dragon understands this, which is no doubt why the Revolutionary Army hasn't made a move against Marijoa directly until the latest Reverie. It'd be too risky, and if the Revs were taken down, who would be left to oppose the WG? Their slow approach makes sense. But at the same time, while the Revs did attack Marijoa, destroying the Tenryuubito's food banks and freeing a single slave... as long as the Tenryuubito are allowed to literally stay on top of the world, this attack has done nothing. They're just going to demand more tributes, they're going to enslave more people. It's going to make things worse for those who aren't in power. It's harsh and unreasonable, and I don't agree with them, but I do understand where some fans are coming from when they considder Dragon a "fraud". If you wanted to help free the world from this corrupt rule, then you have to actually strip those in power from their status, otherwise nothing will ever change. You have to actually fight the enemy.

I can not tell you for certain why Crocodile wanted to create "a military nation powerful enough to oppose the World Government", I do not know for sure why he wanted to obtain an Ancient Weapon. But nuking Marijoa out of orbit sure would be a fast way to end the rule of the Tenryuubito, ensure nobody would get hurt by the World Government's corruption and slavery ever again, and make sure your son would never become targetted by them. A line of thought I'm sure Dragon would not have agreed with. But a line of thought Crocodile could believe in.

Remember how we still don't quite know what Cross Guild is up to? How the Shichibukai are based on Romancing SaGa 2's Seven Heroes, a group formed by Wagnas (Crocodile) with the swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side to save the world from a great evil? And how Cross Guild has been focusing on hunting down Marines by putting bounties on their heads? Make of that what you will.

🐊 Learning not just to love and trust others but to be loved as well

Robin tried to sacrifice herself not just because she loved the Strawhats, but because she thought she herself was unlovable and did not trust the crew, believing they too would betray her eventually. Sanji tried to sacrifice himself because he thought he was unworthy of being loved. Ace went through most of his life, thinking it would've been better if he had never been born at all. We know Crocodile does not trust people. The logical assumption here is that it's because he was betrayed in the past and had his trust broken. Did he ever have a crew, in his younger pirating days? If so, what happened to them? Did they betray him, leave him? After Whitebeard kicked his ass? Who knows. If Crocodile was in a relationship with Dragon though, it does mean that one point he loved and trusted someone, deeply. So much so they had a child. But if their relationship ended because Crocodile is trans, that would have broken his heart, wouldn't it? Made it hard for him to trust anyone ever again. And what would make you believe you were unlovable more than being rejected by your significant other for being queer. But as I mentioned before; Luffy loves and respects trans people. His affection towards queer characters through out the series is absolutely unmatched (the way he exclusively uses the "-chan" honorific for Bon Kurei, Ivankov and Inazuma, calls Yamato a man, and is far more interested in Okiku's spooky mask than her being trans). What would be a better way for Crocodile to be reminded that he can be loved and that he can trust others than being accepted by his estranged son?

🐊 Inherited Will

In Alabasta we learn Crocodile once had a dream that he gave up upon after learning how strong the most powerful pirates of the Grand Line, the ones standing between him and his dreams, truly were. In Marineford we learn Crocodile lost to Whitebeard in his youth. During Miss Goldenweek's Cover story, we learn Crocodile dreamt of becoming Pirate King.

A dream that he shares with Luffy. An inherited will Luffy carries on.

You know the RPG trope where the final boss is either god or your dad? Yeah. This line really hits different when you shout it at your father.

Now, all of this is fine and dandy, but what does this actually do? How would Crocodile being Luffy's other bio-father add to his character, impact Luffy and the story as a whole?

Now there's no way for me to fully predict how the plot is going to develop through out the Final Saga and what might go down. There's a million moving pieces and a billion potential directions things could go. We could be here forever debating those things. But as I did explain in detail already, if Crocodad Real, it could heavily impact Crocodile's character depending on what does/doesn't happen.

For one, we could have an idea of why Crocodile is a plot relevant character again; if his ultimate goal had always been to destroy the World Government to protect his son at whatever cost, then we might know why he wanted to create Cross Guild to begin with; either create a military force strong enough to fight the WG on their own, or, if nothing else, dwindle down the Government's forces and be a general nuisance that leaves the WG vulnerable (perhaps enough so that the Revolutionaries can do the hard work) and/or unable to spend their resources on hunting down Luffy and the Strawhats. Crocodile could be acting as bait, a distraction to protect his son. There's a few options there. This would also give us an idea of where that Cross Guild plotline could be heading; some people believe CG is there to join the race for One Piece and get defeated by the Strawhats, and that'll be the end of it. But now we would have another option, of Cross Guild joining the expected final war against the World Government together with the Strawhats and the Revolutionary Army. So that's one way Crocodad could impact the story and the general direction its heading.

But then there's the character-side of things, how would Crocodad impact our characters? Now obviously, the three characters that would be most impacted by the theory would be Crocodile, Luffy and Dragon. There's some other characters too, Ivankov (since they didn't know), Robin, potentially some Cross Guild members (could they learn to respect Crocodile more sincerely if they learned that the man did in fact have a heart and something/someone he cared about and wanted to protect?) and maybe even Garp, but realistically, it's the core of the family itself.

Now Dragon already would know about everything so there'd be no Shocking Revelation for him. And based on what we saw him say about Sabo maybe being responsible for Cobra's death at the Reverie, we can make an educated guess that Dragon is Not Happy With What Crocodile Did In Alabasta.

So the two aren't on good terms, probably. Dragon might just be absolutely furious at Crocodile for what he did. Understandable tbh. I guess we're just going to be left wondering if the two could somehow ever reconcile, and whether or not they still love each other deep down, despite all the pain and hurt (and warcrimes) they've gone through.

Then there's Luffy. And I guess everything boils down to two major questions; will Luffy ever find out the truth, and if he does, will that impact how he feels about Crocodile? 'Cause it's entirely plausible the series could end with Crocodad being real and Luffy never finding out. And in that scenario, well, Crocodad could impact those other aspects of the story, just not Luffy. And in some ways that could be fine too. It could still be meaningful for Crocodile (and Dragon) that way. But what if Luffy did find out? Now, mind you, it's already a bit of a mystery how Luffy feels Crocodile as of now in the story; back in Impel Down he still understandably hated the man's guts with a fiery passion, but after Marineford Luffy does kind of owe Crocodile his life after he saved him. And Luffy is generally speaking pretty respectful when it comes to stuff like that. But also Luffy was unconcious when Crocodile yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach, so does Luffy even know Crocodile saved him? (Though surely he would remember Croc sparing Ace and getting guarded from Mihawk) Not to mention, when the Cross Guild reveal happened, the only comments we got about it where Luffy calling Buggy an idiot and Zoro being confused about Mihawk being there. They didn't even acknowledge Crocodile. It was almost like Oda seemed to avoid the subject?

We also need to considder how much would Luffy find out? Just the basics, that his other parent is a trans man and just happens to be Crocodile? Or like, everything? From whatever his plans were with taking over Alabasta to however Crocodile might feel about his sweet baby boy? Because if all Crocodile had wanted to do was protect his son, despite knowing he might never see him again, and if Crocodile did still unconditionally love Luffy despite everything that happened, despite knowing (/assuming) that Luffy already hates him... Well first off, Robin nearly assassinated Iceburg and was willing to let the World Government potentially get their hands on an Ancient Weapon just to protect Luffy and co (on top of all the deaths she helped cause while working for Crocodile, all because she wanted to read the Poneglyph herself). If Luffy was willing to forgive Robin for all that, would he not forgive his dad for doing the same? And Luffy isn't one to dismiss kindness, when people express that they genuinely care about him and his well being Luffy does respect that (even if doesn't fully reciprocate the feelings, like with Hancock). And Luffy has deep emotional intelligence too. If Crocodile was convinced he'd be rejected by Luffy for who he was, especially if that had happened to him in the past to begin with, over something Luffy wouldn't bat an eyelash at (like being trans), like. Luffy wouldn't be shitty about that.

We know Crocodile is a broken, traumatized man. We don't know how much shit he has gone through though, beyond getting his ass beat by Whitebeard and The Divorce. Knowing how Oda likes to layer trauma in character backstories*, there definitely could be more to Crocodile than just those two things, but for the sake of this post, let's just focus on The Divorce. *(Like how Robin was alienated by her community long before the Ohara Genocide, and then spent decades of her life fleeing from the Government, hurt and abandoned by people time and time again. Or how Kuma was born into slavery, lost the love of his life and finally gave up everything he had just to save the life of his daughter. Early OP flashbacks may have been a bit simpler, but as time as gone they have definitely gotten more complex and layered, so I would not be surprised if Crocodile's Full Backstory had like 3+ layers to his trauma)

One important part of One Piece has been teaching/reminding certain characters important lessons, to change their view of the world and make them better people as a result.

Here's some of the messages of One Piece, its beating heart and soul

And of course, sometimes some characters can't have their minds changed, at least not that easily. But their ideals and worldview can always be challenged and proven wrong. This is what happens to many of the villians in the story. Like Moria's ideas of how he shouldn't have to do any of the hard lifting himself and how instead of having friends he can just have replacable zombies instead. Moria's worldview was wrong, and is exactly what led to his downfall in Thriller Bark. Or Spandam and the CP9's ideas of justice, how anything they do can be justified as it is for the "good of the world", including killing innocent civilians. They can do that, because they are "heroes of the world", they are "justice". Needless to say, none of the CP9's actions during Enies Lobby could be considdered "heroic", and, well. If "justice always prevails", then their defeat did prove theirs was a false one. Or how Enel isn't a god, how Doflamingo doesn't have a god given right to rule (neither does Wapol for that matter), how Akainu's ideas of "absolute justice" are monstrous at best, how the way Judge and Big Mom treat their families is not how a family should be like at all.

During Alabasta, Crocodile's plans were foiled because of he didn't trust his underlings with his secret identity and refused to communicate properly with them himself. That one conversation between Crocodile and "Mr. 3" (Sanji) is more or less what allowed the Strawhats to reach Alabasta just in time to stop him. But although distrust is what lead to Crocodile's downfall, he still carries that core belief even now; he still doesn't trust others. Which raises the question, what other beliefs might Crocodile still carry deep inside?

That he can't trust anyone because people will betray and leave him sooner or later? That nobody would ever stay by his side, that nobody will ever love him?

Are those not the exact same core messages of One Piece, the false beliefs that we've seen proven wrong, time and time again?

It really wouldn't be right to end the series without Luffy proving Crocodile wrong once and for all, and make him change his worldview, now would it? But hey, the good news is that there might be no better way to prove Crocodile wrong than to have his son unconditionally forgive him and accept him as his father.

All of this to say; yes, I think if Crocodad was real, it would heavily impact Crocodile's character and whatever character arc he might have. Like I'm not arguing for Crocodad in the name of meme'ing. His whole story could suddenly tie into so many of series' core themes and messages, and tie into our main character in a meaningful way. It could impact heavily where the story as a whole is heading.

The other, more likely option is that Crocodad isn't real and that I have lost my marbles thinking I was onto something with this post. In the end, time will be the judge of that. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my utter derangement.

Minor EDIT (Oct 20th, 2024) but. Because I am still obsessed with Crocodad, I keep on thinking about it and both coming to new conclusions and noticing new things, and I wanted to link a few shorter posts I wrote recently because I think they add to Crocodad, if in minor ways

Crocodile's motif is being a protector

Ivankov's fame as a miracle worker matching the Crocodad Timeline

Whitebeard would not have invited a woman on his crew (side tangent; the actual post is about something else)

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #If you've been following me for long enough and read most of my daily CrocoPosting then this is mostly repeating shit I've already posted #But there is also some shit that's like. I can't remember if I posted it or if it's still rotting in my drafts unfinished #This is. So obscenely long. Good dear god.#But this is it. This is my fucking thesis.#My Brain is Soup

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mieldreams · 4 months ago

Text

The Interview

Summary: An Interview with your co-star and childhood friend in the early 2000s.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x reader

Warning: Crack.

A/n: the warning says crack because that's what I was on when I wrote this. more on that later.

*Set sometime in the early 2000s (possibly 2003) after the release of Life as a House and AOTC*

“—Next up we have a special and highly requested interview with Miss Y/N Y/L/N and Mr. Hayden Christensen! They starred together in the 2001 movie ‘Life as a House’ and have previously worked together on the Canadian TV show 'Higher Ground'. And after a quick little commercial break, they are going to be answering some questions sent to us by their fans! Isn’t that exciting?”

Your ears perked up at the call of your name, immediately snapping to attention and smiling politely as the cameraman pointed the camera for a shot.

“Oh, very. We love our fans and it’s nice to hear from them.” The camera switched from the interviewer to show Hayden answering.

“Yeah, it is. We’ve actually never done this, I think. So I’m kind of excited.” You said with a small smile on your face which quickly turned a little mischievous as soon as the cameras cut to the commercial.

*The cameras cut for the commercial*

“I hope they have some fun questions,” you wiggled your eyebrows at the camera and the crew, “I’m actually looking to get revenge on this guy here.” Hayden rolled his eyes jokingly and turned to you.

“You can’t seriously still be mad at that.” He chuckled.

“I am, actually. And I fully intend on making you pay,” you replied in the most serious tone you could manage.

But before he could reply, the interviewer interrupted, “Oooo what’s this I hear about revenge? Something scandalous we wanna share with the world?” his face had a curious expression.

“It's nothing too serious–” Hayden started,

“—uh, yes it!” you interrupted, manners be damned, the world has to know what a cruel friend your co-star is.

“Do you wanna tell them or should I?” you turned to him with raised brows.

“So basically,” Hayden starts with a defeated sigh, “Y/N here thinks I ruined her one chance at “true love”,” he made finger quotes in the air, “by introducing her—”

“by betraying me—”

“—by introducing her to Ewan McGregor.”

“You did NOT just “introduce” me!—” you shook your head in offence.

“He DRAGGED me to meet him even though I wasn’t ready!” you pointed at him with an accusing finger while looking at the camera crew and then at the interviewer.

While your voice took on a higher pitch to make your words sound as accusing as they did, and your face held an expression of the most genuine-looking offence, your body was quite relaxed, leaned back in your chair with your ankles casually crossed while your hands moved animatedly to emphasize your words. And that was all Hayden needed to see to know you were only pulling his leg.

So he replied with a laugh, “I just introduced you!”

“Uh yeah before I was actually prepared to meet him. I looked like a hooker caught masturbating in church with the way I stuttered and couldn’t get a single whole sentence out the entire time” Hayden and the interviewer immediately burst out laughing at your choice of words while you shook your head, your hands covering your face in embarrassment.

“And when did this happen?” asked the interviewer, still chuckling.

“A few months back – at this party with all the Star Wars folk. It was a little bit after episode 2 came out.” Hayden answered.

“So if it wasn’t for Hayden’s bad timing, would Miss Y/N have tried to shoot her shot with Mr. McGregor?” the interviewer tried digging further into this little piece of never-heard-before “drama.”

“Does Ms. Y/N have a crush on Mr. McGregor? And be honest!” the interviewer laughed.

You blushed at the question, a tiny smile appearing on your face that you made sure to hide by averting your gaze to your fingers picking a thread on your dress’ hem, “Uh...no,” you answered truthfully, fully aware that he was a married man and the Hollywood vultures that were always hungry for gossip and drama would definitely turn a harmless joke into some petty story about infidelity or worse, “I wouldn’t have done that. I mean, look what happened when I simply stood next to him! It is true ya girl is an Obi-girlie through and through, but she is not a smooth talker unfortunately.” You shook your head with an expression of exaggerated regret and pity, making the interviewer giggle.

“And how do you feel about that Mr. Christensen?” the interviewer raised his brows at the man beside you, who had surprisingly gone quiet while you had been trying your hardest to not blush and giggle while giving your answer, memories of your unholiest thoughts repeating in your head like a broken record player. (Can you be blamed really? Have you seen him in Shallow Grave? And Moulin freaking Rouge? Oh my god—)

Hayden simply tilted his head slightly towards the interviewer, you assumed he was playing the usual ‘pretend you don’t understand’ card that you both primarily resorted to when it came to vague but definitely not vague relationship questions.

But you were wrong, both ways. Because while that’s what he would have done had he heard the question, he was instead lost in the flashback reel his mind was playing — of the very night he had mentioned. Of how he may have stopped breathing when he first saw you standing across the room in that glittery short black dress. Of how he most definitely stopped breathing when his gaze travelled up your body only for you to turn, your eyes meeting his with a technicolour kaleidoscopic flash in his brain. Of how he felt a blackhole open up in his stomach when your perfectly painted red lips immediately stretched into the most dazzling smile when you realised it was him, and how quickly you had excused yourself to start walking his way.

And turns out the interviewer had, in fact, not been alluding to some “secret affairs” between you and Hayden either (as the magazines always called it, though you never understood how it could be an affair when neither of you were in another relationship, not that you kept tabs on his relationships or such things) as he clarified, “what do you think of the fact that Miss Y/N is an “Obi girl” and not an Anakin fan?”

And while you could have corrected him on how you never said you were not an Anakin girl, you were too curious to know his answer so you remained mum.

His memory reel ended abruptly, having to force a laugh to buy some time to think about his answer. If he answered too seriously, it could fuel the rumours but if he answered too casually it could fuel the rumours. He knew he couldn’t let any of his actual thoughts be known, not knowing what to do with those feelings himself, let alone trust the world with them. If he had maybe a 0.002% chance by himself, he’s sure the rumour mills would churn it down to a negative statistic. Not that he had actually thought about those calculations before, or any sorts of chances at all for that matter. No, he had never thought about just one chance for the hundred different ways he could love you or just one chance for the thousand different ways things could go wrong, what with both of your popularity and how you seemed to be two people worlds apart in your ways.

There was this queasy feeling in his stomach — odd ball of jealousy? No, definitely not. It couldn’t be. Probably just the milk he had that morning, maybe he should check the expiry date of his dairy more often.

“Um...” he shook his head while forcing a small smile on his face, “honestly? I get it man. Obi Wan’s pretty cool, eh? I mean Ewan McGregor’s definitely got the style. He’s so fun to work with and uh.. yeah, I get it. I get it.” Honestly, he himself didn’t know half of what he was saying, he just wanted to get started with the interview.

And maybe the stars were on his side that day because someone from the crew spoke up,

“Guys, so the commercial’s closing, the cameras and crew are ready. shall we start?”

“Yes.” Hayden replied a little too quickly while you nodded in agreement.

“So, we’re back after the break, and we’ll be starting with the first question to—,” the interviewer started, “– Hayden. From 10-year-old Leni Schmitt, she’s from Germany and she says, “Dear Anakin, why did you kill all those women and children when they didn’t kill your mother? I don’t judge you because sometimes my classmates annoy me too. Did those children annoy you?”

Hayden, who wasn’t expecting such a question looked at the interviewer with his mouth dropped open in shock, eyebrows raised while you sit beside him with a similar expression which you school immediately, or at least try to, but only end up having to cover up your amusement and surprise with a fake cough and clearing of your throat.

“Umm...” Hayden briefly looked at the floor, trying to come up with a suitable answer to this child’s question, he then turned back to the camera, “you see Leni, Anakin is a guy with very big emotions who isn’t allowed to talk about them openly, often. He’s a little conflicted and hurt after what happens to his mother and doesn’t know what to do. So he makes a few wrong decisions and does a few wrong—”

“—murderous” You whisper under your breath which you cover up with another cough, smirking off to the side which earns you a side eyed glare from Hayden who continuous like he never heard you.

“—things. I think he’s a good lesson that we should talk about our feelings first, even the ones that hurt and feel bad.”

“I agree, well said.” The interviewer nodded his head, switching to the next card in his hand. “This next question here, is for Y/N. It’s from 7-year-old Nancy from America. She says, “Dear Nancy, my name is Nancy too.”

“Hello, Nancy” you waved at the camera with a warm smile, understanding that the child was referencing to one of your older movies, where you played a young girl from the 17th century, named Nancy.

“I think you’re really pretty and very amazing. You’re really smart and strong and look very cool with a sword. I know pirates are supposed to be the bad guys but I want to be just as brave and smart as you when you grow up. When I grow up, I want to study space and stars too.” The interviewer continued reading from the card while you melted in your chair from the girl’s sweet words.

“PS. Can you please tell Mom and Dad to get me a sword for Christmas too?” The interviewer read with a laugh to which you chuckled too.

“First of all Nancy,” you turned to look at the camera again, “I can tell that you’re already very brave and amazing and smart. And I think it’s really amazing that you want to learn about space and stars, it’s a very cool subject.” You nodded your head with an encouraging smile, “as for the sword…” you titled your head towards the camera, dragging out the ending of the last word, “maybe you don’t need a sword because you’re already so cool. I needed the sword to fight to protect myself, but maybe you can become so smart that you don’t need one.” You hoped that the answer was sufficient for the little kid and that her parents weren’t cursing your name for their child’s slightly difficult gift wishes.

“Though swords are cool, no?” Hayden interjected with a teasing smile. You turned to give him a look with narrowed eyes, as if to say 'do not fuck with me.'

“Yes, but definitely not as cool as being really smart.” You said with strained laughter and an exaggerated smile into the camera. If the child wasn’t convinced, you were sure her parents would be sending you hate mail next for their kid’s less-than-convenient demands, so you turned to Hayden with wide eyes and an expectant expression.

“...Hmm you’re right.” He finally caved with barely contained amusement on his face, looking right into your eyes. “Nancy is really smart. And she’s really cool and really pretty too...” he broke his stare to turn to the camera, “so maybe she’s right, you don’t need a sword to be cool.” He shrugged his shoulders in a casual way.

“I’m always right.” You stuck your nose in the air and turned away from him with faux arrogance, his lips lifting in amusement as you both looked ahead waiting for the next question, except it wasn’t a question card that the interviewer held up.

“So we know we said we’re gonna have you guys answer questions from your fans,” the interviewer seemed to be holding a sort of small photograph, something like a standard 4 × 6 inches album size, but it was turned so you could only see the blank side, “but we’re your fans too, so we have a question as well.”

Hayden chuckled at that while you nodded your head, “Shoot.”

“So we have this photograph here,” the interviewer turned the photo around to show it to you both and then to the camera while your expressions immediately changed to that of surprise.

“Oh, wow. That’s really…” Hayden trailed off, still looking at the picture in surprise but now with a growing smile.

“Old.” You finished for him. “How’d you even manage to find this?” you asked.

“We have our sources.” The interviewer laughed and replied in a secretive way.

“No seriously how did you manage to find this? This was what? At least four or five years back. We look like babies!” you said, laughing in disbelief. “Can I see that please?” You wanted to look at the photo up close, the nineties quality not doing much for its clarity.

He hands it over to you and you let out a small gasp, leaning over to Hayden to show it to him as well. Your shoulders touched as you leaned together over the photograph, his fingers brushing yours as he tilted the photo to see it better.

The photo was one from the set of higher ground. It was of you and Hayden – asleep together in the highback armchair of the “common hall.” You were cramped together on the small single-seater chair, sitting side by side. Though practically, you were on his lap sitting perpendicular to him, with his feet on the floor while your legs went over his and over the arm of the one-seater couch. Your face was hidden in the crook of his neck while his head was leaned on yours, one arm wrapped around your back and the other rested on your legs while yours lay over his stomach. You were essentially squished between him and one arm of the chair and it looked somewhat uncomfortable in the photo, however if your memory served you right, it was one of the comfiest places you had slept.

“—in his arms” The Voice echoed in your brain. “Shut up,” you told The Voice.

The interviewer brought your attention back to him with a question, “So this is you two on the set of…” letting his sentence fade to let you complete it.

“Higher ground” you and Hayden replied at the same time as you left the photo in his hands to sit up straight again.

“And can you tell us more about this photo?”

“Um, yeah. This was, if I remember correctly, this was from the set of higher ground – it was the day we had to film those hiking scenes in the forest. This was towards the end of the day, I think. we were really exhausted.” You turned to look at Hayden as he replied, lifting his gaze from the photo to look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, um, funny though because I had no idea this photo existed.” You shook your head with a small laugh, “I guess the rest of them were planning on pranking us or something.”

“Clearly,” Hayden replied with a chuckle of his own, turning the photo to the camera again and pointing at all of your cliffhanger castmates gathered around the couch you both were sleeping on, each of them making funny faces at the camera.

AJ and Jewel were both holding uncapped markers in their hands, leaning over the sides of the couch with mischievous grins, their childish prank obvious. Kandyse and Meghan were standing behind the couch, with Kandyse smiling at the camera and Meghan looking down at the two of you while Jorgito and Kyle were posing in front of the couch. Kyle pointing at the two of you with one hand and making a shushing gesture with his other, and Jorgito was simply smiling at the camera holding a peace sign with his fingers.

You were honest about being completely unaware of the existence of this photo and judging from Hayden’s reaction, he was too. It made you nostalgic even though it was hardly a few years back. Your experience on the show was monumental in shaping your acting skills, specifically with how complex and flawed your character was. You remembered having a lot of fun with your castmates and feeling really good about the kind of story you were involved in showing the world. And since you and Hayden had already known each other from acting school, it made working together on set that much easier (though most people believed you to be fun and outgoing, you weren’t the biggest talker around new people).

The photo was so unexpected however, and you felt yourself get a little self-conscious at the thought that along with you, the whole audience that was watching would now be privy to it. As if the constantly churning rumour mill of romance and drama didn’t put out enough accusations of affairs and secret admirers on the both of you, this was truly the last thing you needed the world to see – you and Hayden in an embrace that looked far too familiar, as if you held each other and fell asleep in each other’s arms every day —which you didn’t. No matter how many times you daydreamed about it when you looked at his arms – his warm palms that were so much bigger than yours, the veins on the back of his hands that disappeared into his thick forearms or his strong and broad shoulders and how you’d wish time would stop whenever he hugged you in greeting. But it didn’t matter. You were friends. That’s it.

You turned to look at Hayden’s face only to realise he was actually saying something to the interviewer and you barely caught the last of his sentence, agreeing to something about his penchant for playing troubled and conflicted characters, including his character in the show. You felt guilty for spacing out and that made you feel more embarrassed, shifting in your seat to get your head back in the room and trying to clear your throat as quietly as possible.

Your movement, however, caught Hayden’s eyes and his eyes immediately shifted to you, meeting your gaze before shifting again to look you over once, to see if there was something wrong. When he didn’t find anything obvious, he looked back into your eyes, not stopping what he was previously saying but looking at you with a questioning gaze. The attention only flustered you further, so you quickly shook your head as discretely as possible to let him know you were fine but mostly to get his goddamn piercing eyes off of you, you were surely going red in the face as it is.

Thankfully, your reprieve came in the form of the next question from the interviewer.

“So the next question, is for Y/N, this is from 22-year-old Mia, she’s from France and she says “Dear Y/N, I really loved your work on ‘The Venue’, the ease with which you portray both the complex psychological conflict of the character as well as the almost euphoric seeming dissociative state she’s in throughout the movie has immediately made me a huge fan of yours. I can’t wait to watch the sequel! But I want to know – is there anything in the movie that you improvised or any part of the character that you made up yourself?”

You had picked up the glass of water in front of you to take a sip during the question, leaning forward to put it down but instead Hayden gets it for you with a simple, “here let me,” his hand brushing over yours while handing you a tissue for the water you had spilt on your dress in your hurry to put the glass down. You thank him then lean back in your seat to look into the camera with a small smile, “I’m glad you enjoyed my work Mia, thank you. To be fair, most of the ease came from just how well written her character was; so if there’s anyone to truly appreciate, it’s the writers. They helped me to really understand the nuances of her character, specifically emotionally. As for improvisations, yes actually. I did improvise some of her lines, mostly the ones with Chris Pine. With the kind of relationship those two characters had and with the help of our brilliant director, it felt natural really. Plus, Chris is an amazing actor and the chemistry these two characters have is truly something, it definitely keeps you hooked.”

“Speaking of chemistry,” the interviewer started, “this next question’s for the both of you—and this I think pretty much the entire world is eager to know at this point” the interviewer looked up from the card and paused for dramatic effect “are you two dating?”

Hayden sighed in resignation, leaning forward to pull something out from his pant pocket while you let out a joyous laugh, tilting your head back and pumping your fists in the air. He proceeded to pull out his wallet and take out what looked to be a local library card while you made grabby hands at him with a devious toothy smile. The interviewer could only watch in confusion and mild amusement as Hayden reluctantly handed over the card to you.

When you both settled the interviewer couldn’t help but voice his curiosity about whatever just happened in front of him.

“Um…” Hayden started only to be interrupted by you,

“—this is basically one of my revenge plans,” you answered with an all too pleased smile on your face.

“One of? Really?” Hayden asked with a groan tilting his head back, “heavens help me.”

“Heaven only helps NON traitors Hay–bae” you teased with narrowed eyes and your still present smirk. “You wouldn’t know.”

“I feel out of loop here, and I’m really curious so” the interviewer interrupted, pointing between the two of you “What is this revenge? Was that some sort of credit card…? Is the plan purchasing something really expensive with it?”

“Oh no no no, that would be—” you shook your head with a devious smile.

“—far too easy for her.” Hayden completed with an eye roll. “She took my library card. Her “revenge” is that she’s gonna order a bunch of really embarrassing stuff from the local library—”

You immediately started the list on your fingers, “porno magazines, questionable movies and toddler’s picture books, maybe I’ll try to order banned videos, it’ll be a real fun combo–”

“There would be kids watching this interview too, you know?” he interjected with a sigh.

“Sorry kids,” you winced at the camera, “but anyway– maybe I can order like pregnant mom guides and cult rituals instruction tapes, if they even have those—”

“And then she’s gonna make me collect them, in person,” he rolled his eyes, “cause she’s a cruel person who wants to traumatise the poor old woman who works there,”

“She’s seen things beyond your comprehension, Hayden.” You said in a jokingly patronizing tone.

“And how would you know that? What are you, friends with my local librarian?” he questioned incredulously only to receive a small shrug in response. He looked at you in bewilderment, “Oh my god? When-? How even?”

You scoffed, “We’ve known each other since we were kids, dude. You’ve lived there all your life, and she’s worked there all ours.” As if it was the most obvious explanation.

“Anyways,” you continued, “then I’m gonna make him return those things, in person, only after a week of displaying them in his house for everyone to see of course.”

“I’m not displaying them in my hou–”

“Oh hush, this is my revenge. I’ll say what to do.”

“Well,” the interviewer tried to get the interview back on track, “all the best for that. Now, shall we continue with the ques-”

Hayden leaned forward to grab his bottle of drinking water, your childish antics flustering him this time.

“Not doing it.” He whispered under his breath as he tilted his head to take a sip. You turned to look at him, ready to fire your own retort but stopped short at the sight of his side profile – his perfectly sculpted nose, his stupidly gorgeous long lashes that fluttered every time he blinked. Your gaze then fixated on his lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, so full and pink and inviting as they slickened with the water, which then brought your attention to his throat, his prominent adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he drank, his thick neck that looked like the most tempting canvas to paint with the print of your lips.

Your gaze lowered to his wide shoulders that stretched the sweater he was wearing before you realised what you were doing and quickly looked away, clearing your throat which unfortunately got his attention. He turned his head and your eyes met over the bottle that he still drank from and it felt like the whole world stilled for a moment before you had to look down again, feeling as if he might read you immediately, only to see his fucking neck bared enticingly again.

You leaned a little closer to him just as he finished drinking and put the bottle cap back on. sitting right next to each other, it was as if there was some sort of magnetic pull making you gravitate towards the other. You licked your lips, then bit your lower one, a hard-to-kill old habit, his gaze drawn to the movement before he looked back directly into your eyes.

What seemed to you like a moment that lasted forever, was in reality just a few brief seconds of definitely-not-drooling-over-him and way-too-intense eye contact.

“We’ll see.” you whispered with a subtle smile and a sparkle in your eyes then leaned away again, back from his personal space that you seemed to have forgotten about for a second.

He quickly looked to the interviewer and cleared his throat as he leaned forward to place the bottle back, “I’m sorry, we seemed to have gotten sidetracked. Y/N has the attention span of a goldfish.” He joked. And just like that you were back to your usual dynamic.

“If I have the attention span of one, then you have the memory of one.” You replied with a huff and a dramatic eye-roll.

“But to appease your curiosity, we basically had a bet going on.” Hayden continued.

“That he lost.” You continued with a smug thumb pointed at him.

“That I lost. We made a bet that we would get asked this question. I guess I naively assumed that rumours of us dating would be considered long dead and everyone would have moved on from this topic. Clearly, I was mistaken.” He said with a nonchalant expression that barely hid his discomfort at the topic.

“So then, should we tell them?” you turned to look at him and wiggled your eyebrows with a teasing smile. Your expression then turned serious as you tilted your head towards the camera, the smile wiped from your face, “should we tell them?”

Hayden was still leaned back in his chair to your left, while you sat at the edge of yours, your body entire turned to face his.

He merely shrugged a shoulder in response, as if to say, “Your call.”

You looked down for a second, cleared your throat then looked back into his eyes again, “We are—,” you turned to face the camera then turned your body towards the camera entirely as well, leaning ahead and further away from him while he still looked at your face, “—not. We are not dating.” You said shaking your head with a little laugh.

“But,” you wiggled your brows at the camera this time, “I still won the bet! So guess who’s getting special treatment tonight? It’s ya girl!” your thumbs at yourself and did a little shoulder shimmy, “and what’s that special treatment going to be you ask?” You continued the conversation by yourself, your voice taking on a suggestive tone with the raise of a brow, “Of really tasty food of course! And hopefully an even tastier dessert.” You laughed, looking back at Hayden this time, who was shaking his head with a fond smile that you don’t notice, because as soon as you turned to look at him he put on a faux thoughtful expression.

“Hmm… I don’t know. I don’t remember agreeing to dessert in the bet.” He looked at you with a small smirk.

Your head whips to look at him with a comically shocked expression, “Dude! You can’t be serious!?”

“Oh, but I am.” And his face held a calm and composed expression too.

“Oh my god, you promised me—” you start.

“I never promised—”

And your bickering fades as the video cuts off with the screen going blank.

The camera zooms out of the TV screen that had been playing the video.

“So, Y/N–”

“Yes, Tim?” your voice is light, going along with the joking tone of conversation the interviewer set.

“It’s been ages–what, like 15 years?” he asks.

You do the quick math in your head, “A little more than 15, yeah.”

“Wow. More than 15 years! It’s been wonderful watching you grow up to have such a prolific career.” He adds.

“Thanks, Tim. I’m really lucky to have gotten such opportunities.”

“15 years–wow. So, the first time around when we filmed that interview with you, when I interviewed you, we didn’t get to show it to the world–” he points to that same TV screen while you shake your head in confirmation.

“But now, we got to show it for the first time, even if it’s 15 years late!” he laughs. “So Y/N, from then to now, what’s changed?” he questions in a curious tone.

“A lot, Tim.”

You sneak a longing glance at Hayden who's sitting beside you on the couch before looking back at Tim. “A lot.”

“I mean–” you lift your hand, wiggling your fingers to show off the small sparkling diamond on your left ring finger. An uncharacteristically quiet smile graces your face as the audience erupts into screams in the background.

sooo it's been two decades... who's ring do we think it is? Hayden's? or did some other lucky guy shoot his shot first and win?? will we ever find out?? if it's not Hayden's should we change that??? 👀

ps: if anyone's confused about how they were sitting in the photo it's something like this but they're sitting on one of those single armchair types so they'd be forced a little closer so more like this or this (with ur butt on the cushion itself cuz you're still! just! friends!!!)😏😈

A/n: aight so when I said I wrote this on crack didn't mean literally ofc. (though I might as well have been, considering how stupid this is lol)

I wrote this ages ages ago when I watched a bunch of 2000s HC edits and got crazy stupid embarrassingly obsessed with him (again) so I just had to channel all that into some cringe thing. so here it is. after rotting in my drafts for so long. idk might take it down later we'll see. but for now y'all have her (even tho nobody asked for this so im sry)

I had only written this for shits and giggles so if things don't make sense don't bother telling me I already know.

But if you enjoyed it do like and comment! xx

#miel works #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #star wars #hayden christensen fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fluff #star wars prequels #sam monroe x reader #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #scott barringer #x reader #star wars anakin

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matan4il · 4 months ago

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Holocaust survivor Theodor Adorno never said that it's impossible to write poetry after Auschwitz, but he's often misquoted as if he did. I think it's because those of us who care about the Shoah, struggle with the idea of poetry after Auschwitz. The symbol of culture vs the epitome of violent cruel barbarism. Both connected to a nation considered highly civilized. The art dedicated to describing vs an absolute hell that is indescribable.

For me, the poetry that was written about the Holocaust is at its most authentic expression when the sentences break down, like in Dan Pagis' poem Written with a Pencil in the Sealed Train Car, whose one sentence never ends. Most of all, I feel it when I read Paul Celan's poem Death Fugue, where the sentences run on, and into, and away from each other. In such poems, the meaning is what survives the breaking down of this rather basic verbal structure.

It's October 7th again, which is weird because it marks an entire year of it being October 7th for Israelis and Jews.

On that October 7th, I wrote, I wrote facts because I had no words to describe all the things I was thinking and feeling, running on, and into, and away from each other inside me. A year later, I have even less words. And my sentences don't break down, to reflect what broke down for me, as I observed too many horrors perpetrated by terrorists, and too many out there celebrating the brutal rape, abuse and massacre of my people, and justifying it, and victim blaming civilian men, women, children and Holocaust survivors, and peddling antisemitic libels like their lives depended on how dehumanizing they can be to the Jews and the civilians of the Jewish state. My sentences don't break down, but a part of my heart and soul is forever broken.

And now, on top of everything else, the antisemitic mob is also appropriating October 7th, the day when we were massacred, making it all about another group. Despite the fact that the only Palestinians killed on Oct 7, 2023 were terrorists and not-innocent civilians who invaded Israel in order to loot, rape, maim, burn, torture and kill. Many Palestinians and antisemites were celebrating and spewing hate and falsely accusing the Jewish state of genocide on Oct 7, 2023 already (and for years before that. Their destruction of what that word means started way before Hamas' massacre). And on Oct 7, 2024 they won't even let us quietly break down, and run out of words, and try to find what meaning survives these atrocities and continued antisemitic global abuse, and remember our victims, the people butchered in the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, and those who died trying to defend us from that in this war which we did not start, and the victims targeted or raped or murdered in the many anti-Israel, antisemitic terrorist attacks and hate crimes that took place over the last year.

That's before we get into how on Oct 7, 2023 Jews were targeted and victimized, and for some reason, that translated into the horrific reality that on Oct 7, 2024 Jews are being warned to be careful, because we're going to be targeted today, too.

And I want to say something. I want to say so many somethings. With all the feelings and thoughts inside me. With the generational trauma that's had to witness 'Never Again' appropriated and weaponized against the people who first gave birth to this phrase out of the depths of the indescribable hell they survived.

But I just don't have enough - because there are not enough - words.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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luckykiwiii101 · 1 year ago

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What I Will Be Manifesting This Week :

What I will be manifesting this week:

- Desired Body (Revised)

- Always Waking Up In The Void State Aware

- That my 3D always conforms in under 48 hours

What Will I Be Doing?

- Embodying the state of having my desires.

- Fulfilling myself in imagination whenever I think of my desires.

- Fulfill through visualisation and inner conversations because that is what feels most natural to me.

What Will I Manifest In The Void State?

- Desired Face & Body but with some finishing touches. (doll - like, kind of like Karen smith from mean girls)

- Desired Height (5’7)

- Desired hair (doll - like)

- Desired Name (so elegant and pretty!)

- Desired Personality

- Desired voice (singing & speaking)

- Desired Vibe (90s Supermodel)

- Desired house (so luxurious)

- Desired room (Barbie x Gossip Girl themed)

- Desired Wardrobe (Blair Waldorf type outfits)

- iPhone 15 Pro + Desired Phone Case

- New Desired Biological Dad + New cousins & aunties etc to match

- Revising that my parents got married in Paris

- Rich Family

- All my family members are happy and have everything they want

- Privacy

- Pretty School Interior & Exterior

- Desired School Uniform

- My best friends to live on the same road as me and to have everything they want.

- Perfect mental and physical health for all my loved ones.

- Desired Career to start early (Supermodel for when i’m 17)

- Perfect Posture

- Perfect Eyesight

- Perfect Culinary & Baking Skills

- Fluency in French & Dutch

- Piano Prodigy + being able to play desired songs on it

- Good at playing electric guitar

- Changing Appearance of my family members

- Revising my family’s names

- Always knowing what to say

- Family celebrates holidays like Christmas & Halloween

- Revising my memories to align with my dream life

- Photographic & audiographic memory

- Perfect grades

- Whenever I listen to a song, it feels like listening to it for the first time again.

- Desired Items

- Immune from embarrassment + Revising that any past embarrassing moments never happened

- Life feels like the early 2010’s again

- Life feels like a Gossip Girl Episode (You know I had to XoXo 💋)

- Life feels like a barbie movie (like princess charm school or smthg idk)

- Looking like desired songs

- Can Choose To feel hot or cold

- airport and plane processes to be always extremely fun and quick for my family, friends and I

- Teen Wolf & The Originals to be put back on Netflix

- Season 3 of One Of Us Is Lying to come out

- Some cute things for my pets

- Always know what my pets want

- My whole family to have good taste in fashion

- Go on nice holidays every year

- Materialise something instantly by affirming for it x3

- Kind, Respectful & Secular Family

- Disgusting Roadman fashion in London to be stopped (ew if u saw that shizz)

- Fashion to go back to the 90s and early 2000s

- People At School Don’t annoy me

- High Spice Tolerance

- Always Wake Up Feeling Fresh & Energised

- Never late to school

- Desired ear piercings

- Scary Insects never come near me (especially spiders AAAAH!!!)

- I appreciate all aspects of life

- Never abuse my manifesting abilities

- Everything i manifest manifests 10x better than how i imagined

- Basically revising my whole entire life top to bottom

+ much more personal things

Things I Will Be Manifesting For The World:

- World Peace in all realities

- No wars in all realities

- Palestine being free in all realities

- World healing

- Healed society

- Righteous justice system

- No corrupt leaders

- No corrupt governments etc

- Healthcare everywhere is free

- People are good people

- People treat eachother with respect and kindness

Guys, I will definitely go into more depth when i actually materialise all these and post my success story. + Will probably post some picture proof of materialistic things in my home and outfits etc but not my face or anything personal like that.

I wrote everything i’m going to manifest on here because I know i’m not going to be bothered to type it all out when i’m actually living my dream life in the 3D 💀

Share what you guys will be manifesting and stick to your new story so we can all post our successes together!!!

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #neville goddard #live in the end #living in the end #law of assumption blog #manifesting

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hx4x4enthusiast · 11 days ago

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Optimus realising he is a dad (PART 2)

HAHA your god has heard your prayers my followers. I finally wrote part two. *I am running on energy and spite excuse the god complex*

Part 1

“Oh, man I missed the bots so much. I can’t wait to go dune dashing with Bulky and Jacky again.”

“I agree, I love my family but I missed Bee, playing games with my cousins isn’t the same as with him.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to go on a long ride with Arcee.”

Despite exhaustion tugging on the kids, the prospect of seeing the bots again filled all of them with excitement. They collectively agreed to wait at Jack’s house for their guardians to pick them up or a Ground bridge to open. The roar of a powerful engine captured the attention of the children. Which promptly turned into confusion as well as curiosity, when they spotted a very familiar blue and red truck instead of their respective guardians vehicle modes.

Grabbing their bags and locking the door behind them the group walked over to the truck parked on the curb. Jack reached the Prime first and opened the door for Miko to crawl into first, afterwards he helped Raf before climbing into the drivers cab.

“Uh hello, Optimus uhm where are the others?”

“Did something happen to them?”

“Greetings young ones. I can assure you Raphael everyone is well, the lull in Decepticon activity, allowed for an increase of free time, which was as far as I witnessed well used. To answer your question Jack the other are at base, receiving a standard medical examination Ratchet insist upon.”

“Yeah no disrespect OP but why are you picking us up.”

“A valid question Miko, while all of you were on vacation a discovery was made. We… I didn’t plan would…could happen.”

Silence encased the small space of the cab as the truck started moving and pulling out of Jasper, never have the children witnessed Optimus so unsure. Even without really knowing the depth of the position of Prime. Optimus was always a pillar of strength knowledge and confidence, witnessing him being so unsure was concerning.

“As you know due to the war the birthing place of all Cybertronians the Well of All Sparks has stopped working. One of the consequences was a stop in the creation of new sparks, the human equivalent to a child. When a New Spark is created it outer protective layer is still soft and easily damaged, so they have to rely on a protector to help them. These protectors are called Foster additionally they makes sure that all of the Sparklings basic needs are met. When the outer shell has hardened the new spark is referred to as a Youngling and enters a mentoring program for their assigned task. Once they gained the basics and graduated the Youngling program, they are recognized as full Cybertronians.”

“Why are you telling us this, Optimus?”

“Yeah I mean didn’t really wanna have a lesson in school free time.” “MIKO.”

Jack snapped at her, but still he was just as curious as Raf about the answer the Prime would give. While Optimus wasn’t necessary a quiet wallflower, he also wasn’t the most vocal bot.

“Your question is reasonable Raf, to explain what happened in your absence and not shock you I deemed it reasonable to explain Cybertronians relationships as they differ in aspects to human concepts. So allow me to continue, through the entire prospect, you would refer to as “growing up”, no emotional relationships are formed. You are one in many as you start life, opening your spark to someone is in every sense a deeply personal and vulnerable experience on Cybertron. Hence such bonds are sacred and them shattering will negatively impact all parties of the bond. One of the strongest bonds known is the Carrier or Sire bond. To ensure the survival of our species every Cybertronians has a set of coding typically referred to as the Sire/Carrier Protocol. Though it’s activation differs for every bot, the programming makes us protective of our own it typically happens when we form attachments when they are young before they are recognized as Cybertronians. It is a bond the same as the ones you form with your parents at birth. To answer your question Raf, in the absence of all of you my body displayed most unusual behaviors. A scan from Ratchet revealed that nothing was wrong with my frame physically. After another analysis it was revealed that my Sire Protocol was running and my frame acted upon the missing of my Sparklings.”

“OMG DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOU HAVE KIDS, WHY HAVE WE NEVER MET, OMG THEY GOTTA BE SO CUTE-“

“MIKO-Jesus keep it down would you I appreciate not losing my hearing yet.”

“Wait guys, Optimus said that he didn’t know he was running this protocol so he didn’t knew he had children. And if his body acted because his Children were missing. And we were all gone. Then…then we are…”

Optimus came to a stop, opening his door allowing the children to exit his cab. Though none of them moved, realization now also displaying on Jacks and Mikos face. Optimus carefully transformed back into his bipedal form positioning the children in his servos. Carefully he sat down his back against the wall of the small cave he once found patrolling. Slowly the kids, one by one looked up at him. Countless battles a millennia of war and still never was the prime this nervous and unsure as in this moment.

“So does that mean I get to call you Dad?” “Seriously Miko?” “What, I get an alien space Jesus as a dad that is cool as hell.” “Omg why am I friends with you.” “Because you love me, Jackie Boy.” “Shut up Miko.”

All of his fear and stress left his frame as he saw the children bickering with each other like always. A fond huff escaped the prime as his intake stretched into a small smiled, his faceplate shifting into something soft, something loving. For the first time in a long time he was at Pease, his Sparklings, with him, safe and happy. Slowly as to not jostle them he raised his servo to his Chest right by his spark. The movement interrupted the little argument between Jack and Miko, both focusing back on Optimus. This time Raf stepped forward holding onto the Primes thumb for support before speaking.

“Optimus we kinda already saw you as a father figure.” “Yeah you always help us when we need us and y’ know have really good advice.” “Thank you I am truly grateful to have already fulfilled such a role for you.”

With fondness in his optics observed he his two youngest, but as his gaze met with the oldest of the three, Jack looked away. Noticing the avoidance of his gaze Optimus send a commlink to Ratchet with his location, a second later a Ground Bridge opened up, turning to the other two.

“Raf and Miko this Ground Bridge will bring you to base Bumblebee and Bulkhead are already waiting for your return. We will join you later”

Before Miko could start to argue Raf took her hand and shaking his head. Optimus carefully lowered his servo back onto the ground, allowing Raf and Miko to hop down. Turning around to meet Jacks gaze he gave them a nod, sharing a look between them a silent conversation happened. It always fascinated Optimus how human managed to communicate without speech, ERP fields or commlinks. The silent conversation ended with Miko and Raf turning around and disappearing into the ground bridge, which promptly disappeared afterwards. Leaving the cave empty and silent except for the Prime and young human. Optimus lifted his servo back up to his chest allowing the Jack to not have to make direct eye contact with him. The silence continued neither of them making conversation.

“I…I never had a dad. I mean I do he is somewhere probably, obviously otherwise I wouldn’t exist. Mom said he was still there in the beginning but then one day he just left. I don’t really remember for me it’s always been just Mom and me. But then I met Arcee and you and the others and there where so many people there. And I am not alone anymore but everything changed so fast and what if this isn’t real and everything will be gone.” “Change is never easy, but change is also a chance. It forces open doors and shows us possibilities we couldn’t see before. Sometimes that means that we are met with harsh pain and suffering. But it can also push us, it makes us grow and without it we cannot go forward. Sometimes it is fast and happened in the blink of an eye and sometimes it is slow and happens in the span of millennia. Go this way in your own time Jackson, the door is open but it is your step to take.” “Thanks Optimus.” “You are welcome, Jack. Would you like to stay here a moment longer or do you wish to return back to base.” “I…I think I want to stay here a bit longer with you if that’s alright? “I do not mind.”

Relaxing against the Primes chassis, the two beings of different species stayed like this until the sun bid farewell and the younger one fell asleep. Protected by the millennia old titan with the war worn spark which found peace and love in three small humans.

Masterlist

#transformers #transformers prime #maccadams #tfp #miko nakadai #jack darby #raf esquivel #tfp optimus #papa prime

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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An open copyright casebook, featuring AI, Warhol and more

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Few debates invite more uninformed commentary than "IP" – a loosely defined grab bag that regulates an ever-expaning sphere of our daily activities, despite the fact that almost no one, including senior executives in the entertainment industry, understands how it works.

Take reading a book. If the book arrives between two covers in the form of ink sprayed on compressed vegetable pulp, you don't need to understand the first thing about copyright to read it. But if that book arrives as a stream of bits in an app, those bits are just the thinnest scrim of scum atop a terminally polluted ocean of legalese.

At the bottom layer: the license "agreement" for your device itself – thousands of words of nonsense that bind you not to replace its software with another vendor's code, to use the company's own service depots, etc etc. This garbage novella of legalese implicates trademark law, copyright, patent, and "paracopyrights" like the anticircumvention rule defined by Section 1201 of the DMCA:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-lawsuit-takes-dmca-section-1201-research-and-technology-restrictions-violate

Then there's the store that sold you the ebook: it has its own soporific, cod-legalese nonsense that you must parse; this can be longer than the book itself, and it has been exquisitely designed by the world's best-paid, best-trained lawyer to liquefy the brains of anyone who attempts to read it. Nothing will save you once your brains start leaking out of the corners of your eyes, your nostrils and your ears – not even converting the text to a brilliant graphic novel:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/03/03/terms-and-conditions-the-bloviating-cruft-of-the-itunes-eula-combined-with-extraordinary-comic-book-mashups/

Even having Bob Dylan sing these terms will not help you grasp them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/25/musical-chairs/#subterranean-termsick-blues

The copyright nonsense that accompanies an ebook transcends mere Newtonian physics – it exists in a state of quantum superposition. For you, the buyer, the copyright nonsense appears as a license, which allows the seller to add terms and conditions that would be invalidated if the transaction were a conventional sale. But for the author who wrote that book, the copyright nonsense insists that what has taken place is a sale (which pays a 25% royalty) and not a license (a 50% revenue-share). Truly, only a being capable of surviving after being smeared across the multiverse can hope to embody these two states of being simultaneously:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#heads-i-win

But the challenge isn't over yet. Once you have grasped the permissions and restrictions placed upon you by your device and the app that sold you the ebook, you still must brave the publisher's license terms for the ebook – the final boss that you must overcome with your last hit point and after you've burned all your magical items.

This is by no means unique to reading a book. This bites us on the job, too, at every level. The McDonald's employee who uses a third-party tool to diagnose the problems with the McFlurry machine is using a gadget whose mere existence constitutes a jailable felony:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war

Meanwhile, every single biotech researcher is secretly violating the patents that cover the entire suite of basic biotech procedures and techniques. Biotechnicians have a folk-belief in "patent fair use," a thing that doesn't exist, because they can't imagine that patent law would be so obnoxious as to make basic science into a legal minefield.

IP is a perfect storm: it touches everything we do, and no one understands it.

Or rather, almost no one understands it. A small coterie of lawyers have a perfectly fine grasp of IP law, but most of those lawyers are (very well!) paid to figure out how to use IP law to screw you over. But not every skilled IP lawyer is the enemy: a handful of brave freedom fighters, mostly working for nonprofits and universities, constitute a resistance against the creep of IP into every corner of our lives.

Two of my favorite IP freedom fighters are Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle, who run the Duke Center for the Public Domain. They are a dynamic duo, world leading demystifiers of copyright and other esoterica. They are the creators of a pair of stunningly good, belly-achingly funny, and extremely informative graphic novels on the subject, starting with the 2008 Bound By Law, about fair use and film-making:

https://www.dukeupress.edu/Bound-by-Law/

And then the followup, THEFT! A History of Music:

https://web.law.duke.edu/musiccomic/

Both of which are open access – that is to say, free to download and share (you can also get handsome bound print editions made of real ink sprayed on real vegetable pulp!).

Beyond these books, Jenkins and Boyle publish the annual public domain roundups, cataloging the materials entering the public domain each January 1 (during the long interregnum when nothing entered the public domain, thanks to the Sonny Bono Copyright Extension Act, they published annual roundups of all the material that should be entering the public domain):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes

This year saw Mickey Mouse entering the public domain, and Jenkins used that happy occasion as a springboard for a masterclass in copyright and trademark:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

But for all that Jenkins and Boyle are law explainers, they are also law professors and as such, they are deeply engaged with minting of new lawyers. This is a hard job: it takes a lot of work to become a lawyer.

It also takes a lot of money to become a lawyer. Not only do law-schools charge nosebleed tuition, but the standard texts set by law-schools are eye-wateringly expensive. Boyle and Jenkins have no say over tuitions, but they have made a serious dent in the cost of those textbooks. A decade ago, the pair launched the first open IP law casebook: a free, superior alternative to the $160 standard text used to train every IP lawyer:

https://web.archive.org/web/20140923104648/https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/openip/

But IP law is a moving target: it is devouring the world. Accordingly, the pair have produced new editions every couple of years, guaranteeing that their free IP law casebook isn't just the best text on the subject, it's also the most up-to-date. This week, they published the sixth edition:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/openip/

The sixth edition of Intellectual Property: Law & the Information Society – Cases & Materials; An Open Casebook adds sections on the current legal controversies about AI, and analyzes blockbuster (and batshit) recent Supreme Court rulings like Vidal v Elster, Warhol v Goldsmith, and Jack Daniels v VIP Products. I'm also delighted that they chose to incorporate some of my essays on enshittification (did you know that my Pluralistic.net newsletter is licensed CC Attribution, meaning that you can reprint and even sell it without asking me?).

(On the subject of Creative Commons: Boyle helped found Creative Commons!)

Ten years ago, the Boyle/Jenkins open casebook kicked off a revolution in legal education, inspiring many legals scholars to create their own open legal resources. Today, many of the best legal texts are free (as in speech) and free (as in beer). Whether you want to learn about trademark, copyright, patents, information law or more, there's an open casebook for you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/14/angels-and-demons/#owning-culture

The open access textbook movement is a stark contrast with the world of traditional textbooks, where a cartel of academic publishers are subjecting students to the scammiest gambits imaginable, like "inclusive access," which has raised the price of textbooks by 1,000%:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/07/markets-in-everything/#textbook-abuses

Meanwhile, Jenkins and Boyle keep working on this essential reference. The next time you're tempted to make a definitive statement about what IP permits – or prohibits – do yourself (and the world) a favor, and look it up. It won't cost you a cent, and I promise you you'll learn something.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/30/open-and-shut-casebook/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

Image: Cryteria (modified) Jenkins and Boyle https://web.law.duke.edu/musiccomic/

CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/

#pluralistic #jennifer jenkins #james boyle #ip #law #law school #publishing #open access #scholarship #casebooks #copyright #copyfight #gen ai #ai #warhol

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threebooksoneplot · 7 months ago

Note

what draws you both to jalice/makes you so feral about them as a ship?

you should know we had an entire meeting in order to answer this ask. no this could NOT have been an email (unlike new moon) 🤭

Secretary G took notes. they are as follows (read the bolded parts for a tl;dr)

we kind of see it as though jalice got the traits that edbella weren’t allowed to have, either due to their status as protagonists or because smeyer's mormon background causes her to view these qualities as too sinful/negative for her wholesome Waiting Until Marriage main couple. (examples: alice's materialistic, "shallow," hyperfeminine qualities, her character flaws (especially her manipulativeness), and jasper's aura and history of fucked up violence closer to what you'd find in traditional vampire stories/horror/adult gothics/books not written by a mormon author)

in terms of how much screentime the non-main-love-triangle canon couples get, their relationship is kiiiinda given the next-most weight to edbella’s (examples: jasper's extreme overprotectiveness, the New Moon chapter 19 moment where alice prioritizes jasper and bella is like “yeah I get it, I would do the same.”) basically smeyer gives jalice's relationship a lot of the qualities she finds romantic/ideal, (and which are either similarly romantic to us or entertainingly toxic/a good source of drama), presumably because alice is like her 4th-favorite character after the main love triangle and she wants nice things for her

we both really love how, superficially, as presented in the books, jasper and alice seem to have this almost “courtly love” that smeyer has described as "spiritual." yet when you look closer, their relationship has so many darker undertones—the deep codependency bordering on obsessiveness (mutual, but especially the way it manifests on jasper's end—"I will kill this random teen girl who witnessed edward's jean valjean moment™ because any means are justifiable when the ends are Protecting Alice"), the dark sides of both of their powers, the idea that jasper is only a cullen and/or only a vegetarian for alice's sake, etc. hell, even the fact that they're the only Cullen couple who we know had (gasp) premarital sex 😏 (I mean we assume rosemmett did too, but alas, they don't have that hilarious "carlisle convinced jasper and alice to get married" quote from smeyer)

partially summarized: "jasper’s general desperate willingness to sell everyone to satan for one corn chip if it keeps alice safe (carlisle: I know this and I love you)"

we're forever smug that the movies gave us even more jalice screentime (especially remarkable in such a protagonist-centric universe), including jasper being in the same grade as alice/bella/edward, and the extra jalice kisses in Eclipse and BD 🥺

what we wrote down as the “who’s protecting whom" phenomenon, as coined by G in this old ask. (shannon: "jasper is the toddler you've given the PS2 controller that's not plugged in")

we also like the characters individually. jasper is for the girlies with competency kinks—a stoic caretaker who speaks little and mostly expresses himself via acts of service. we also both love the way in which he needs protection from his own uncontrolled violence (slipping up and killing humans, suffering the pain and fear he inflicts, etc.) he is, in the words of our beloved @liceparade, the "line cook trauma boyfriend"

“It’s hot when there’s a fictional violent man who wet babygirl 😌” —shannon

and alice, unlike bella, genuinely loves being spoiled and bossing people around. she's brat-coded, she's confident and secure in who she is, her god complex ("I'm close enough [to omniscient]") causes fascinating conflict, bella eats drywall from sheer horniness at her merest movement, she dresses like a slut in the Mormon YA Novels and yet somehow escapes authorial condemnation, she has a sickass gothic heroine backstory, she's "annoying," aro started a whole war over her (eat shit helen of troy 🖕), she spaces out in public and has to be led around by jasper, she's one of the most powerful vampires in the world, she's in high school getting a C+ on her precalc test 💅🏻

it's appealing that smeyer frequently puts alice in the center of the series' various conflicts (james' singer and "one that got away," the accidental cause of all the drama at the end of new moon, one of aro's secret True motives for starting the conflict in BD.) this is mostly as a consequence of smeyer using alice as a plot device and/or deus ex machina, but it is in fact interesting

is alice jasper's morality chain? we love pondering this question via fic, meta, etc (especially because...alice ain't exactly a model of ethical behavior herself)

together, the two of them exhibit lots of classic tropes. they're grumpy x sunshine, chatty x silent, opposites attract, etc. to say nothing of that height difference 🥵

we love the yin/yang symbolism of a character with a horrific past paired with a character with NO memory of her past, who is focused on the future and all about potential. not to invoke an ancient phrase but POETIC CINEMA

the next note just says “POTENTIAL in general.” I assume we meant how all of the above stuff creates potential for interesting stories, conflicts, metas, art, fic, etc

G has brought this up in the past, but we love the irony of jasper, a character whose chief desire is to be left in peace, being soul-alteringly in love with the one character who will always be a giant glaring target through no fault of her own. hilarious

#asks #jalice #jasper hale #alice cullen #archie cullen #jessamine hale #long post //#monsterbookworm

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wingedshadowfan · 1 month ago

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the arcane fandom will hate me for this one but i have to speak my truth !

i don't think vi is the "not jealous type":

i think ppl are just misreading her reactions in two (2) particular scenes and that's why they think so! so i'll talk abt those briefly in a sec

i think ppl have this impression of her having so little self-worth that she wouldn't care if her partned flirted w/ someone or someone flirted w/ them, which i personally hate to see! (and yes, she does have issues w/ putting her own needs first and taking what she needs sometimes, she's been shown to self-destruct in dire situations, and she'd put everything on the line to protect her loved ones but that! does! not! translate! into potentially being okay w/ your partner breaking boundaries)

the scene where she learns caitlyn is into women: first of all, caitlyn and vi are still practically strangers at this point so it's very early to say vi has any feelings for (let alone romantic relationship to) caitlyn that would warrant her feeling jealous!! there's perhaps attraction there ("you're hot, cupcake") but no possessiveness, for reasons other than "vi isn't a jealous partner"! everything in vi's behavior shows this entire sequence is power play to her and she's just toying w/ her food ("the undercity will eat you alive") - she's putting a piltover girl of status, an enforcer, in a situation where she has to do something she deems unbefitting ("i will not!" ) if she wants to achieve her goal, because vi finds it entertaining! piltovians getting their hands dirty, being desparate (think of sevika's glee when she's choking caitlyn in s2 and caitlyn bites her hand, resorting to behavior that's beneath her). vi doesn't expect caitlyn to actually do it - so when she sees her flirting with a girl, this is the first time she's proven wrong abt caitlyn! she thinks, "wow, so she's for real/she's got it in her". not only is caitlyn willing to put her pride aside for more important things, she also seems to be enjoying herself - a contrast to her previous uptight and nervous demeanor, and a sign she's going out of her shell and that this place might grow on her, as well as proof she's into women, which to vi is at least smth they have in common. (and no, i won't get into social psychology and theories of homosociality rn but we are all likely to like ppl similar to us/to what we know, esp when we're unsure of someone's personality, views or values)

the scene where caitlyn pulls away from vi mid-makeout - after vi has forgiven her and decided to ultimately take what she wants for once instead of just running after her loved ones and carrying the responsibility of their safety - to tell her she "saw someone": i wrote a separate post a while ago explaining why to me her simple wording is brilliant in making it very apparent that whatever her fling was, she was not only willing to be upfront abt it but it was also shortlived, she thought of it as a mistake, and it was now over. crucial knowledge, although it can be argued vi didn't process it that extensively at all. which, fair. but it also very much happened when vi was gone and likely hadn't forgiven caitlyn yet (despite having had feelings for caitlyn at the time, and caitlyn for her, which she was obv aware of). so her reaction (cait, i don't fucking care) was completely understandable. they'd only kissed once, before having a huge fight/fallout, and this was before they'd put (at least on screen lol) a label on their relationship - and while we don't see them do that after their sex scene either, we see them basically living together almost domestically after the war and i believe that's confirmation enough. i've also talked before abt how/why caitvi have never doubted their love for each other so i'm willing to bet vi understood the insignificance of caitlyn's relationship in her absence - vi also did some questionable shit in the meantime

so, do i think vi is the jealous type then?

short answer is: yes, at least the normal amount. (so less than caitlyn). because to me, it makes total sense that she would be!

she was so madly in love she was hallucinating caitlyn after their fight, which lead to her descend into alcoholism, pit fighting, style change, madness and anguish. and during that time she'd kept the enforcers badge and used the kiramman house banner as a blanket, like?? do you seriously think she'd let caitlyn flirt w/ others once they're in a relationship (not that caitlyn would) or wouldn't mind someone else trying to flirt w/ caitlyn?? bffr vi is not sharing

idk how relevant this is since it's not exactly jealousy but i thought it's worth mentioning that since vi has been shown physically using her body to defend or shield others (both defensively and offensively): she's definitely the type of gf to tell caitlyn "wear whatever you want babe, i can fight"

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moongumi · 2 months ago

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⁀➷ ∵ ❝under the allure❞

⟶ adler goes on an unexpected blind date that doesn't end how he expected

⟶ cw. MDNI, smut, age-gap, use of 'kid', lots of cussing, unprotected sex, oral, lots of kissing

⟶ wc. 5.7k

⟶ note. little bitta something i just wanted to write before i go through more chapters of 'with your heart in a headlock', enjoy, i didn't really check this over it was a pure 1 siting smut

Adler doesn’t expect himself to actually go through with it but after focusing on his entire career on Perseus and practically growing an obsession to it he felt lost after it was all over. Everyone tells him to go out and live, live his life but how is a man like Russell Adler meant to know how to live a normal fucking life. It’s not like he hasn’t tried before, he was married once—had children and well, it didn’t work out for him. He always chose the job over it all.

He knew at least that he could pretend to be normal until the next huge threat needed to be neutralised and he could return to his normal routine of tracking down his enemies.

Yet, it wasn’t unlike Woods to poke and pry at Adler’s patience. “How about you go on a date?”

Adler had a displeased expression on his face, lighting his cigarette before he turned to Woods with a grimace. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.” Woods drank his beer. On his side his good friend Mason came back after getting more drinks for the table. “I’m serious, let loose.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mason chirped as he sat down next to Woods in the booth. He pushes a drink towards the youngest at the table who catches it with ease.

“Thanks.” Adler said.

Mason took a swig of his beer before placing his drink back on the coaster, pointing his finger towards Adler. “I was the one who came up with the idea.”

Adler looked over at the pair with a confused expression. “What idea?”

“The blind date.”

Wood lets out a sound, before he snapped his fingers, “Right, I forgot to mention that—it’s a blind date, plus it’s already been booked, surprise!”

“What?” Adler’s eye twitched under his shades. He could feel a vein about to pop in his head from the thought of going on a blind date set up by Mason of all people.

Mason who had an excited look on his face, smiled at Adler. “Look, I already set it up and you’d be a right asshole for not showing up.”

Adler could’ve easy rejected even the idea of it but he felt in the moment that he had nothing else to do, better than another day drinking with these two. “Who is it?”

Mason does a fist pump after Adler basically assured that he was going on that date. “Just someone I know.” He had this sneaky expression on his face, one that Adler did not like.

“Woah, is it one of ya’ girls?” Woods asked, with a teasing tone. Referencing the fact that Mason had his way with women and well, he goes through them like he does pints of beer.

Adler groaned at the idea, the ashes of his cigarette peppering down onto the table messily.

“Hey, I promise you she isn’t one of those girls. I mean she’s cute and all.” The look on Mason’s face merely tells Adler that the girl could be one of his girls, had just hadn’t gotten around to it just yet.

Adler sighed, “She doesn’t know about our line of work?”

“Nope,” Mason reassured. “She’s a friend of a friend’s.”

༝

Russell Adler sat in a cafe, way too early for his date tapping away his cigarette against the edge of the ash tray. He hasn’t ordered anything, no drinks or desserts yet. He doesn’t actually know what to order and well, doesn’t want to seem like an asshole—eating before his date arrived.

His date was arriving after her job, after 4 pm, Mason mentioned.

Adler’s eyes watched the television hanging from a mount on the ceiling in the small cafe, some more things about the Cold War, wherever Adler went he can’t seem to escape the job or the itch to do more about the state of the world.

He doesn’t even notice when you arrived.

You wrote down the cafe Mason mentioned, it was far from your job and well, you had a take a few trains to get here. You would have rather preferred it to be closer for convince but you couldn’t be picky.

You were also late, a lot later than the date was intended for. You even doubted that he would still be there.

So you felt a sense of relief walking into the very busy cafe seeing the man you’re supposed to meet still there, and he didn’t look annoyed at all.

He had his jacket off, resting it over the back of the chair next to him. He wore his sunglasses, Mason mentioned to find a man wearing umber tone aviators, light brown hair and a scarred face. You even recalled over the phone Mason reluctantly asking about the scars.

“He’s got a few scars, if it scares you—“

You scoffed, walking around in your small apartment.

“Why would a few scars scare me, Alex?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The scars on his face, there’s many and they were deep yet somehow even from a distance you felt like they suited him—even added to the appeal of him. He stood out in the cafe, something about him. The allure, his nonchalant way of sitting—

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” You said, pulling out the chair slightly squinting when it squeak a little too loudly. “Trains were packed after work.”

Adler gives you a tight-lipped smile, “No worries, I haven’t been waiting long.”

Which was a lie, he had been waiting over an hour but he wasn’t keeping track. Maybe the employees at the cafe were eyeing him up wondering when he was going to order.

You felt awkward, immediately as you sat down. Unsure of what to say to the older man.

“Mason—“

“I—oh, you go ahead.” You almost interrupted him, god, could this not get more awkward.

Adler didn’t seem to care much about the awkward silences or the lack of social skills. You weren’t usually a nervous person, maybe it was just him making you feel this way—you didn’t know much about him at all.

“Mason never mentioned your age.”

You blinked for a moment, in shock. Mason really didn’t mention anything to him at all. “Oh, uhm, I’m twenty-five.”

“Shit,” Adler sighed, pressing his almost finished cigarette into the ashtray as his other hand came up to his face. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “He said you’ve be younger but not—“

You immediately felt the need to explain yourself. “Mason mentioned your age and I don’t mind—“

“Yeah? You’re a lot younger than I am.”

You shrugged, before you drew a menu from the basket on the right of you and looked at the menu for what you wanted in hopes he would continue the date anyway. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal.”

Adler was reluctant, the age thing. A girl half his age, what the hell was he doing messing with this kind of thing.

Adler watched the way you bite your bottom lip whilst you turned the pages of the menu until your eyes would light up at what you wanted.

“Let me order, I come here often.”

Adler nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Sure thing.” He wasn’t usually the type to wonder what others thought of him but he even had a glance around to see what other people would think. What would his ex-wife even think of him right now. But it shouldn’t matter, even if he didn’t want to—he was enjoying it.

You ordered him a red velvet cake and an americano, something about how he seemed like he didn’t enjoy drinking sweet drinks. You weren’t wrong, Adler did only drink black coffee.

“So what do you do?”

Right, he was expecting this kind of question but he hasn’t exactly prepared a lie.

“I’m ex-military, retired now.” It wasn’t a lie but he kept a lot of the truth.

You hummed sipping on your warm latte. “Retired so young.”

“Young,” He laughs, “I’m old, kiddo, old enough to retire.”

“People don’t retire in their forties unless they made enough money,” You said, tapping your feet against the floor. “Plus, you shouldn’t call me kiddo—if you’re interested in me that way…”

Right. Adler cleared his throat, hiding the way what you meant made him feel. He shuffled in his seat.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

He didn’t exactly get a photo of what his date would look like or even description from your assumption. Not even a taste of the personality. You leaned across the seat feeling slightly less awkward as the date goes on. “Hm, what exactly made you agree to this anyway, seeing as Alex didn’t tell you a thing about me.” You giggled slightly at the end, not even on purpose.

Adler could guess that you knew Mason well enough to be on first name basis. You were pretty, he wondered how Mason hadn’t already got his hands on you.

He didn’t know if he should tell you the truth or make up something pretty to make you feel good about yourself.

“I didn’t have anything else to do.”

You shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “At least you’re honest.”

Adler takes a sip of the americano, it tastes really bad but he doesn’t make it noticeable. “What kinda’ job did you come from?”

“Oh, I work in a cafe—kinda funny seeing as we’re in one now,” You mentioned. “If we’re being honest, I wouldn’t have chosen a cafe for a first date, you also don’t seem like the type to hang in cafes anyway.”

“You’re not wrong, I’m glad we can both be true to ourselves.”

You’ve almost finished your drink at this point and well, you can see that he’d barely drank his. His eyes even behind the almost opaque sunglasses you could tell he was focused more on the television behind you than you.

You kicked your feet under the table, brushing your bare leg against his trousered ones. “Let’s go then, maybe a walk will do us well.”

༝

Adler doesn’t remember what a real date is supposed to feel like but even now he could tell it was a strange situation. The pair walked side by side.

He wasn’t sure if he was willingly to commit anything to this, to you. He could feel you brushing your arm against him walking closer to him to avoid bumping into anyone else on the sidewalk as he was approaching a nice park. It was winter, very cold.

He held his arm out for you, almost instantly you looped your arm around his biceps holding your body against him for warmth.

“Seems like some men don’t understand that they don’t own the sidewalk.”

Adler chuckles slightly at your complaints. He could smell the faintness of your perfume, it smelt nice—he couldn’t complain. He also can’t deny the fact that you were attractive, by all means, Mason seemed to only know pretty girls but they tend to lack anything more.

You appreciated him accepting your want of physical touch. You recalled your phone call with Mason.

“Is this guy your friend?”

Mason hums, before he responded. “Yeah, I’ve known him a while.”

“What have you told him about me?”

He laughed, “Nothing, surprise him.”

“That’s a terrible idea, this is going to be awful.”

He clicks his tongue, feeling the need to ask, “You sure you’re alright with it, he’s a lot older than ya’.”

“You’re a lot older than me, Alex.

He laughed again, “Yeah, but you’re not interested in me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re annoying.”

Mason scoffed, “Well, he’s definitely not an annoying guy, he can just be a little…different.”

“What kind of different?”

You can tell Adler was a very calm individual, he tends to take control of situations. If he was in the military he must’ve been a good rank and well he ended up with scars like that on his face yet he’s alive—says a lot about him.

You were facing his scarred side, and just something inside you wanted to feel them. Caress those deep edges of his skin—

“Wondering how I got ‘em?”

You snapped out of it, letting out a soft chuckle. “I was but, you don’t have to tell me.”

He seemed to like that answer. You two stayed quiet as you walked towards a frozen lake, a few people were seen skating across.

Adler watched the way your face lights up seeing the skaters. You released him and walked up towards the edge of the lake.

“Seems fun, didn’t bring my skates though.”

Adler chuckles, “You don’t want to see me skating.”

You liked how he was joking around with you, it felt natural. “I doubt you’re that bad.”

“You don’t wanna’ see an old man like me skating like that.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You’re not that old. You seem capable.”

Adler was merely pretending to seem like the average man his age. Of course he was capable, the things he did for his country proved that.

“So, how’d you know him?”

You looked back at the older man, with your brows furrowed. “Who, Alex?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, “Family friend, I have an older brother.” Short and sweet.

“Do you enjoy your job then?” Seems like Adler had the hang of the whole, small talk thing and you merely entertained it as you continued to walk toward somewhere you could possibly sit at.

“Not particularly, I just do it—for now,” You said. “I’d prefer something more exciting, maybe I should join the military—“

“Don’t.” Adler interrupted, cutting you off with a stern look. “It’s not worth it.”

“You did it, you’re telling me there nothing about it you enjoyed?”

“That’s personal preference,” He explained. “There’s a lotta’ things better for you to do.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Or are you doubting my capabilities? Maybe I’d be a great spy or something.”

Adler chuckles, even if the slightest sense of his serious tone was still prevalent. “Sounds like something you could do.”

“I’d do you.” The words came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it. Your hand reached up and covered your mouth.

Adler lets out a short chuckle, slightly like a scoff. “Jesus, you’re just like Mason.”

“Woah, I’m not a man-whore like him.” You act offended.

Adler raised his hand, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant, you’re straightforward like him not the other thing.”

You breathed out, pouting instead. “Whatever.”

Adler could tell you were joking around with him but he still felt a pang of guilt. He followed you as you sat down in front of a fountain.

He sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against your leg. He now notices how short your skirt was, a lot shorter now that it’s ridden up your legs.

He noticed the way your tights had little snags in them, maybe from a long days work. This makes him wonder if you were wearing your work uniform underneath—get your head out of the gutter, why was he thinking of this?

You could tell he was looking, at your clothes at the slightest peeks of your skin. You bit the dried skin off your lips before talking to him.

You leaned back, your hands rested against the cold concrete of the fountain. “I don’t expect you to think this date was amazing.”

“It was great.”

That sly smirk on his face.

“Don’t lie, not all dates go well—sometimes first dates just suck.” Your age was definitely playing a part in this, the way you talked about how casual dates were too. It was nothing like how Adler had experienced it when he was younger.

He then thought if there even was a chance he would have a second date with you—if he even had the time, seeing as the Cold War was only nearing it’s end and he would be needed. He didn’t have all the time in the world as he had played it off like he did, he wasn’t really a mere retired man.

In a selfish way he wanted to see you, know more about you and see the way your cheeks reddened whenever he’d catch your excited gaze.

The way you bite your lips waiting for his response. Like you were just begging for his attention.

Your soft hand come to rest onto of his rough, aged hand. Your fingers feel at his callouses and the lines of his palms underneath. He could tell you felt a lot more comfortable with him, being close to him and actually being able to tell if he liked you.

He did like you but he can’t just forget that he liked a lot of things in the past but the job always came first—or well, he always chose it.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Your voice was soft, lingering with disappointment.

Adler’s eyes looked for your expression, he can’t tell what you’re thinking when you’re looking down avoiding his gaze like that. Yet, he entertained the thought. “What am I thinking?”

“That this isn’t going to work out, ‘cause you’re not willing to commit to it—‘cause I’m too young—“

“That’s not the reason—“

You don’t let him speak. “It doesn’t have to be serious. I don’t need it to be, this could last one night, a few weeks or months—even a year, Russell.”

Adler sighed, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette at the idea.

“You’ve not been on a date recently have you? Girls these days don’t all need someone to marry them,” You continued, attempting to convince him further.

It was quiet clear to him now. What you wanted from this. He can’t deny, it was something he wanted but felt like he couldn’t get it without the entire ordeal—your words made him feel like it was valid to imagine it being much more casual.

“A little fun won’t hurt anyone.” Your voice lingered in his ears

༝

He was easy to convince after that. You felt an even strange sense of giddiness managing to make his fold so easily, he seemed like a tough nut to crack.

He wasn’t a tough one to deal with when you had him in your small apartment. On one of the armchairs you had recently bought after needing somewhere nice to read your books.

His pants were hung off his legs as he sat on the fresh chenille cushion, his head thrown back against the back of the chair.

You were on your knees, a hand against the inner part of his thigh and the older holding onto the base of him with a hard grip.

His rough hand held onto your hair like a ponytail to the side of your head, exposing your neck and allowing him to get a better view of your actions. He groaned when he looks back at you with his full attention.

You stopped when he looked away, when he threw his head back in pleasure—to toy with him. You smiled at him, even innocently before prying your lips apart with the tip of his throbbing cock. Your wet lips glide over the slick skin, wrapping those pretty painted lips over it.

He gripped your hair harder forcing you to crane your neck up at him. God, your knees hurt in this position but the fact that between all of that you were getting warmer and wetter by the second couldn’t be denied.

His cock, hot and red slide down the flatness of your tongue to the deeper parts of your throat—you were good, you knew how to handle it. Easily taking him deeper than he expected or even had experienced. He let out the most erotic sounds you’ve heard.

Maybe you did like them older. And the way he still had his aviators on, it was like a power display or something.

“Holy fuck,” He moaned, reaching his other hand down towards your jaw and cheek. He holds your pretty face between his fingers and squeeze them to pucker your lips pulling you away from his cock. “Enough of me.”

You wanted to keep going, to see how long he could hold off—it was like a test. You wanted to prove to yourself you could make a man like him come undone.

Your eyes looked at him through those thick lashes, practically begging for him to handle you. He drew you in with his grip against your cheeks towards his face. His hot breath against your swollen lips.

“What a pretty girl.”

You bit your lips, leaning into him wanting to taste him. He held you back making you whine at him. “Mean.”

He chuckles darkly. He’s the one to make the move, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

Those scarred lips taste like heaven, a heaven one could only reach from crawling through hell. It burns so good.

You taste the dew from his tongue, rolling yours against his as if you could become one with him. His lips were so soft even with the scars, you could feel them and it added to the danger of it all.

The roughness and sloppiness of the kiss had his glasses sliding around, you reached your hand up and pushes his glasses off his face, it falling somewhere behind him.

You practically whimper against him. He released his grip on your cheeks, his hands finding their comfort in your waist gripping you closer to him.

He basically pulled you onto his lap. His bare skin rubbing against your tights, you could feel his erection—hot and leaking against the risen parts of your skirt. Your ass was hanging out of them, one of his hands reached down to grip onto it pulling you into a rolling motion against his groin.

“Fuck, keep doing that.” You almost melt against him. The only thing separating his cock from your core was the thin layers of the thighs and your thong.

He gripped the tights so hard they start to snag and rip against his fingers. He toyed with the flimsy and barely existent fabric of your thong. “What kinda’ girl wears a fucking thong to work?”

“A girl like me.”

He groans, ripping your tights even more. “You don’t mind right?”

“No,” You whimper against his lips. “Do whatever you want.”

With the tights out of the way there wasn’t much in his way. His fingers danced on your hot lips, fondling them and feeling at the warm skin. He felt it now, how wet you were.

“You’re this fucking wet already, holy shit.” Even he’s surprised. He pulled away from your lips, peering over to look at the way your cheeks giggled when starts to move his fingers.

“When’s the last time you fucked a girl my age, Russell?” You teased. “We all get this wet.”

His fingers pressed harder feeling the raw skin hidden between the folds, it felt like fire under his touch. “Holy fuck—you’re so fucking wet.”

He pushes his fingers past the fabric of the thong pushing it away. With the pressure the top of it pulls harder against your clit and adds to the experience. You moaned when he pushes his fingers inside, they slipped in so easy even he let out a deep sound from it.

“You don’t need much prep, do ya’?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips against his scarred cheek. “I like it when it hurts a little.”

“Holy fuck.”

His fingers were all the way in, curling and looking for where it feels the best for you. He doesn’t struggle to find it. Your face contorts with pleasure, nearly drooling against his face.

“Fuck, it feels good.”

Adler hummed, continuing to add another finger to the mix. “Good, tell me what you like, pretty girl.”

“I like everything you do, Russell.”

He turned his face towards your lips, capturing you into another deep kiss. The angle of it and the pressure. Your hands rested atop his shoulder, allowing you to roll your lips into his fingers.

You turned your head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. “I want your cock.”

“Always so upfront, huh?”

“I know what I want.” You stated, reaching in front of you to undo your uniform. The buttons come undone easily and you merely leave it on.

Your breasts look like they are threatening to escape that tight bra, Adler reached over with one hand to cup your breast squeezing them between his fingers. His eyes glued to the way they bounce and the way your face reacts to his touch. He slipped his fingers under the fabric to feel at your nipples, hard just for him.

“Anywhere on your body that isn’t perfect?”

You rolled your eyes, he really did know the right things to say. “You haven’t even felt how good I can make you feel, Adler.”

He groans at that, especially at your soft hands reaching down back to his throbbing cock. It’s neglected but for a man his age—he didn’t struggle keeping it hard. You shouldn’t really be surprised, he’s different from most men.

“You sure about this?”

You nodded, biting your bottom lips now he realised it was your habit. “If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be in my apartment.”

༝

Things may have gotten a lot more intense on the bed. You knew you should’ve started trying to kiss him on the bed but it was sort of fun leading him to your bedroom, swaying your hips on purpose.

You stripped down to nothing and laid on the bed awaiting your prize.

“Don’t ask if I’m sure again, you know my answer.” You stated, seeing that look on his face as he takes off his shirt.

The older man laughs, tossing his clothes and climbing onto the bed and over your body. “How’d you know I’d ask that?”

“Gut-feeling.”

You laid back, feeling his hand gently come up to grasp your cheeks before he pressed his lips against yours again. His kisses were so intense and full of meaning. He desired you so much and you could just tell by the way it felt like he never wanted it to end.

He tastes and explores you with so much experience. His other hand drawing your hips against his harshly.

Your hand reached down towards his cock, grabbing it’s shaft and you pumped it to warm it up again—he only got slightly soft but you also just wanted to touch him.

His hand on your face felt so gentle compared to the way he kissed you like he was hungry—he moved his lips down towards your neck, pressing heavy and wet kisses against the skin, those are definitely going to leave a mark.

Your back arches off the soft bed that had too many pillows and blankets. You didn’t care in this moment what was going to get spoiled, fuck all that. You had your eye on one thing only, Russell Adler.

You drew his cock towards your entrance, rubbing it’s swollen tip against your wet lips prying them apart. Your slick covering his cock with ease, you can feel him trying to hold back. “No need to rush…this is my favourite part.”

You loved the burn on the way in, especially from a cock so thick and heavy like his.

He presses a gentle kiss against your chest craning his neck down to watch the entry. You pressed his tip harder between your legs, feeling him enter slowly—agonisingly slowly.

The stretching burn, your warmth cascading onto him. He rested his head against your chest right between your breasts as his breathing intensified. “Jesus fuck.”

His cock stretches you further, he seemed to be unable to hold back after a few seconds of your slow teasing. He pushed his hips ever so slightly making you moan out. “Ugh, fuck.”

You didn’t stop him. His lips pressed against your chest, moving to encase your nipples in his mouth as he fucks his cock into you. He finally buried himself balls deep inside and rests for a moment to catch his breath.

You chuckle, feeling the centre of your pelvis swell and warm up from the pleasure. “You done there old man?”

He scoffs with a chuckle, “You doubting me?”

He pulled out nearly all the way before pushing himself back in with speed, taking your breath away. You choke on your words and only pathetic whimpers left your lips as he settles into an unforgivable rhythm. Maybe he also knew a thing or two about fucking.

He gripped one of your legs and threw it over his shoulder to deepen his depth pressing his palm to the under side of your thigh to force it higher, resting the other on his hips as he drove into your core with his pace.

He rested on his forearm on the side of your face, watching every twist and curl of your face, every bead of sweat that fell from your forehead and neck. He wanted to see what he was doing to you.

“Hm, do you like that, does it feel good?”

You slobbered your words knowing he was teasing you. “Fuck you, of course it feels good!” You were practically crying out the last words.

He could feel it, you getting close. He removed his hand from thigh bringing it to your already punished centre, he places his thumb against your most sensitive bud—rolling it with his large digit with confidence.

He could feel your clenches, you couldn’t even lie and tell him you weren’t close. You were even grateful you didn’t have to tell him, cry out to him that you were going to come.

Your abused hole told him enough, spluttering and making pathetic noises on it’s own. He couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t making him so fucking close too, all of it, your face, the way your body reacts to the tiniest touches from him.

He pressed his face against the side of yours, “Come on, pretty girl, come for me.”

He didn’t have to ask again. You released one last whimper, lips quivering and brows stitching together as you came undone, the heat from your stomach spreads all over your body making you shake as you felt the burn build inside of your most sensitive parts.

It felt even better to feel the way he fucked you even harder then, to catch his own release. The way he pressed his lips aggressively and hungrily against yours, tongue basically fucking your mouth at the same time.

Your hands pawed and gripped at his back, leaving marks indefinitely.

His hand on your clit moved up, feeling at the divots in your hips, the curve of your waist towards the swell of your breasts before he rests it back at your jaw holding it delicately.

He fucks his cock into your oversensitive hole, you could feel him blowing his load deep inside of you. It felt so wrong to love how it felt.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours after he finished—he pulled out his cock gently as it began to soften.

You were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down. You could see the sweat on his skin and his perfect hair now messy and greasier.

He looked down between your legs at the mess, the cum spilling out of you. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You were guessing the mistakes made during the haze of pleasure had finally caught up to him. You sat up, breast wriggling around as you did. “Don’t worry about it, that won’t happen.”

He knew what you were referring to, it lessened the worry—he didn’t need more children right now. He still felt guilty, he should’ve been more careful.

He began to sit up, but you reached over and grabbed his forearm. He looked back with a confused expression, “Gotta’ clean you up.”

“No.”

He looked even more confused, “What? You’re not one for aftercare and pillow talk?”

Adler just had to joke, somewhat of a dig at your age too after your little nick name for him.

You smiled, pursing your lips before your shrugged, “Not particularly but I had other thoughts in mind, old man.”

You pushed him back, forcing him onto his back over the bed. You jumped over him even with your thighs leaking with his fluids. You pressed your lips against his, “More.”

“Gods sake, I’m not like the guys your age.” Adler said between your lips even he had to know when to feel inadequate.

You pulled back, you don’t believe him, “I can wait for your buddy to get ready again.”

༝

And you did, for a couple hours after that anyway. Even Adler didn’t expect himself to be able to go on for so many rounds but he did pass out right after the last one.

“I really can’t go again, kid.”

“Shouldn’t say that to someone you just fucked.”

Adler grimaced, “Sorry, force of habit.”

He was knocked out and you hopped out of bed, ready to clean yourself up. You did manage to tuck him into your bed comfortably.

You reached your bathroom and cleaned up then looking out towards the door to check if he was still sleeping. Very much, sound asleep.

You pulled out one of your drawers and pulled on the hole on the backboard, reaching inside you grabbed a phone.

14 missed calls.

Of course. You sighed. You take the phone in your hand and walk out towards the bedroom again but going straight towards your living room and out the balcony. In the cold rough winter air your shorts and tank top served no purpose of keeping you warm at all, only for slight modesty if a neighbour was to see you.

You dialled the number back, it answers immediately.

“Did you do it?”

You leaned against the cold bar of your balcony looking down on the main road.. “Not yet.”

“What’s taking so long?”

You rolled your eyes, looking around. “These things take time.”

“Yeah? And all this time you were fucking him.” His accent thick, hopefully no one can hear him.

“You sound jealous.” You spot him, a few cars down the road with his windows down and an arm out tapping away his cigarette ashes. “Just part of the gig.”

“Sure, whatever you say—get it done.” His voice deadpanned, “The trash is stinking up my boot.”

He hangs up, leaving you to face the freezing temperates and the weight of what stands between that you will choose to do.

#russell adler smut #russell adler x reader #cod fanfic #cod bo6 fanfic #cod smut #adler x reader #adler smut #tw. agegap #tw. violence #cod bo6 x reader #cod x reader #adler #russell adler

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kurthummeldeservesbetter · 2 months ago

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More Jayvik Headcanons cause I can’t stop

Viktor gets upset any time Jayce tried killing a bug, using a rat trap or shooing away birds from their windows so he has to capture and release everything and also adds bird feeders to the little balcony. One time a bird flew into their window and fell to the ground (they don't know what happened to it after) and Viktor got so upset (he claims it was the 48hours w/o sleep) that Jayce had to take him home for the day.

Jayce reads out loud to both of them at night, especially when Viktor is too much of an insomniac to sleep. Viktor repays him with shoulder massages when Jayce can’t sleep.

Viktor gets propositioned by members and students of the academy the time. Jayce is fine with this. Jayce gets propositioned by members of different houses all the time. Viktor is totally fine with this. (They aren’t but they get very possessive, which turns them both on).

Viktor made fun of Jayce’s man of progress mug so much that Jayce upped it with a Viktor commemorative plate. Viktor then made Jayce-themed silverware. Jayce commissioned Viktor tailored napkins. The war of commemorative dinnerware is still ongoing.

Viktor has to hold Jayce’s hand whenever they visit farmers markets or other town centers. Not just because he likes holding hands, it’s because Viktor wanders off all time and gets distracted by everything. Jayce lost him for two hours one time.

Jayce has to wear some sort of apron or shirt in the forge now. He’s gotten too many chest burns and tears that no matter how good he looks, he’s got to wear some sort of guard. Viktor is slightly disappointed but at least Jayce is safe from 3rd degree burns.

They have to turn the fan on at night for the white noise, due to them both hating silence. (Working in the lab/forge for years means tinnitus). It also helps that Jayce runs hot (and cuddles an ice box Viktor) and they created sheets that even out their temperatures. They have not marketed these sheets because it would mean detailed explanations on how they know it works. (They have created ones for Caitlyn and Vi though.)

They both love flowers and gift them to each other all the time. They have to do fresh cut, because neither of them can keep potted plants alive.

It is inevitable, that if you are a current council member and decide to pay them a visit to see for yourself what they are doing in the labs, then you will walk in on them in very compromising positions at least once. Mel only told Shoola, so she's been able to knock and warn them. Cassandra one time walked in on them shirtless + making out, rolled her eyes, warned them about lab safety and proper protocols, and stood there waiting until they redressed and made them do a rundown of their current prototypes. power move queen. (learned it from Mel).

Jayce can cook but not bake, Viktor can bake but not cook. Jayce likes how cooking (save for temperatures) is a little more freeform and can't help but try and be a little more lax with baking, but it always ends up badly (rock-solid bread, cookies that are paper-thin and salty.) However he has made stunning 4-course meals and can make even a basic sandwich 5-star quality.

Viktor likes the structure of baking. He can make literally any bread or dessert with just one look at a recipe. Using baking to de-stress even. Has made macrons of all flavors. However, do not ask him to cook. His tastebuds for anything that isn't sweet are wack. Once dropped an entire container of salt into soup once and didn't notice.

Awful handwriting for the both of them. Only they know what each other wrote. Sky has to transcribe anything official. Mel can only sort of read what they have written on their boards, but that's mostly by context clues. Caitlyn doesn't even bother.

They have a timer for water that goes off every 30 minutes in a work day. It's enforced by Sky because they get so focused they forget to hydrate.

#viktor arcane #jayce talis #jayvik #arcane #arcane headcanons #jayvik headcanons

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a-rayneart · 19 days ago

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Just finished season 4 of MASH

I know this art blog is quickly becoming a MASH rampage (not intentional, I swear) but I really want to give my thoughts on the season 4 finale and this seems like the best place to do it.

An incomplete list of every moment that struck me in S4E24: The Interview:

Hawkeye's demeanour in this episode is entirely different than in 'Yankee Doodle doctor', particularly his behaviour toward the film crew. This is unsurprising, but still significant to me.

I loved hearing Radar talk about his earthworms. I love whenever the characters engage in genuine hobbies outside of their jobs in the army, but hearing Radar babble about his earthworms was especially lovely.

"War is just killing, that's all." - Klinger

Hawkeye is so honest this episode, and he does it all with this completely checked out look, eyes glazed over.

Hawkeye also sums up his whole entire character. He talks about putting on a 'coat' of morale just to make others stop believing in where they are because it's the only way he can feel present. He also get's asked how he stays sane, which is pretty significant foreshadowing, to which he answer with a list of frankly insane things to do. It reminds me of the S1 episode where he pretended to lose it in order to get time off, but also of all the little times in episodes where he did something that was a bit outlandish, a bit crazy, and somehow also made perfect sense, like when he (briefly) pretended to be a corpse in an attempt to get back to his father.

"There's so much more to care about," and "It just doesn't matter anymore," are two things Hawk says in basically one breath and boy is that relatable.

I've already seen this clip but Mulcahy talking about the steam and the bodies in the cold hurts every time.

Genuine, non-sexual focus and appreciation for the nurses and the jobs they do.

Referencing the episode where Radar get's drunk in Tokyo and him looking so abashed about it.

"If I knew all the answers, I'd run for God." -Klinger again

More on Klinger– Usually he takes advantage of any opportunity to display his insanity to higher ups. He doesn't do that here. He talks entirely sincerely about his joy for home and his hate for the war. You can really see every emotion on his face. He is so real.

Radar's compassion for the local Koreans. There's something special about it coming from him specifically that I can't quite pinpoint but I love it. Maybe because he comes from such a similar background but is now in a position where the people he answers to tell him that he's better than them. I think Radar must feel he has more in common with the local farmers than with his own colleagues.

I've never thought about it before, but it makes so much sense that Potter misses being around people his own age, and I could probably go on about that forever but I probably shouldn't.

Father Mulcahy looks so tired.

BJ smiles when he greets his wife and daughter, but when he looks down he looks devastated. How hard must it be to talk to his family through a TV screen. The acting in this episode it amazing.

I think it was BJ who talked about being torn between his love for the people he worked with and wanting to erase them from his memory, which reminded me of a line from the MASH fanfic I wrote before I even watched this episode; 'Nothing makes me happier than having people to miss, and that they’re far enough away that I can miss them.' (Check out my short fic, it's called After Life - Hawkeye's Poem)

The narrator ends by saying that they're doing what they do best but what they'd rather not do in a place they'd rather not be and I think that's just about the point of the show

All said, amazing episode, perfect acting, did what just about every episode of MASH does and gave me a deep sense of melancholy. I've seen a lot about this episode on here and I totally get why but I think we should also give some appreciation to the episode before it (Deluge) because I genuinely believe that that was just as good.

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metalomagnetic · 4 months ago

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So do Sirius’s kids turn out to be less ignorant and have a better understanding of muggle culture? Especially because of Nymphadora’s influence (due to her Muggleborn father). Like would they show an interest in the public library go to concerts (like their dad did) and while I do understand that they’re being raised by the pureblood equivalent of Nazis basically (Bellatrix, Lucius and unfortunately to a lesser extent, Sirius), do the kinds end up not-so-bigoted or less likely to dehumanise muggles and Muggleborns as they grow up, go to Hogwarts and stop parroting their parents?

Do you think the way Sirius grew up to realise the ideology behind Grindelwald was wrong, Sirius’ children would also realise that their family members were the extremely powerful and rich aggressors who were out torturing and killing people for no reason? Would Sirius ever even allude to his children that- that their aunt Bellatrix, uncle Lucius, all the adults there grew up around tortured and killed people simply because they wanted to?- that there was never any greater purpose to it since they wrote already at the apex of their society.

We saw that Sirius tells Harry a sanitised and falsified version of this- to atleast make it seem like it was war and not simply terrorism and that the murder of Harry’s parents had meaning. But as Harry and his sibling get older, do they get told or just realise the truth? Especially because Nymphadora already understands/knows the truth atleast subconsciously- she just doesn’t wanna acknowledge it - will Sirius’ children be the same?

Will Sirius ever mull on the fact that his beloved Bellatrix is a terrorist - who killed people only for her enjoyment? Or will he excuse beloved Bella, the way he did when she murdered Marlene and her family?

This aspect of the story is truly so dark- the parts where Sirius is grappling with the fact that his family is out here killing and torturing people with no remorse in order to “avenge” Evan when them and their pointless terrorism is the reason his death occurred in the first place, as well as his own pureblood anger over Evan’s death. It’s great. You’re great. The way you weave all these conflicting thoughts into Sirius’ psyche is just amazing.

I also love how in the later chapters, Sirius slowly reconciles with the fact that he is not as good a person as he wishes he was and his moral code- of harming a hundredfold whoever harms him or his. I also like to think that Sirius is probably the kindest and most (open minded? liberal?) accepting Head of House and that he probably wouldn’t go murder a Muggleborn prime minister or hinder their career needlessly out of sheer hatred and prejudice lmao.

Also when I’m reading your fic I keep hoping the kids turn out better because of the kind of father Sirius is- As in his kid’s believe their dad helps whoever he can help and they grow up to emulate that or sm.

Anyway, if you’ve actually read my rant till the end, my apologies. I just can’t get IRITB out of mind T T

Like Sirius before them, his sons will realise who started the war, and that it wasn't fair, nor just. It's not a matter of ignorance here.

They're all trapped in a vicious circle where they know they're not great people, but they don't aim (nor were they raised) to be good people. They want to maintain what they are used to, they were told to 'protect' their family and their position, by whatever means necessary. So they will act when they feel threatened, even if the threat might not be real, only perceived.

Sirius knows he's not a good man, and he made peace with it. He still tries his best not to be the most horrible version of himself, he can still emphastise with others, and tries not to cause harm unnecessarily, but especially now that he has children, he would burn the entire world if he thinks his sons are in any danger, physical danger or just social danger.

Sirius does has inherent bias, and he's somewhat aware of his bigotry. He recognises it's not based in reality, but he can't help but feel that way. He isn't violent in his bigotry, he has no issues befriending muggles or muggleborns, or werewolves or vampires, he helps them if it doesn't inconvenience him, he wishes there was this utopia where they could all live in peace. But when push comes to shove, he'll chose 'his own' people, and he does believe wizard are superior to muggles (though he doesn't think purebloods are superior to muggleborns) and that, as a Black, his bloodline is better than anyone else's (including Lestrange or Malfoy. This isn't about pureblood supremacy, but Black supremacy. He takes extreme pride in his family, even if he knows they're crazy and often wrong in their attitudes).

Of course, Sirius is much less bigoted than his father has been, and OG Orion was less bigoted than his own father. Arcturus was more tolerant than his own father. They do 'evolve' with the times, just very, very slowly.

Sirius' sons were exposed to muggles by their father, but they were also exposed to muggle hate by their mother and virtually everyone else around them, and also Sirius' indifference when someone badmouths muggles.

Orion will never have issues eating muggle food or using muggle inventions, or listening to muggle music. He likes many muggle things, he thinks some are better than magical equivalents, but he'll always feel most comfortable where he was raised- in the magical world. He doesn't think muggles are animals, he is all too aware muggles are just as human and just as intelligent as wizards, however they don't have the same power as wizards, so they will never be equal. He, like Sirius, believes muggleborns are just as magical as purebloods, and they have the same right to practice magic. However, unlike Sirius, he thinks purebloods are 'stronger' than muggleborns by default. He believes the magical power is in the bloodline, and while muggleborns are obviously magical, their 'power' has been diluted by muggle interference. (Both Astrid and Arcturus are to blame for this).

Marvolo is less tolerant than Orion, but less vocal about it, too.

Both boys are raised to maintain the Black way, to represent the Black family, to 'hold the fort' and perpetuate their traditions, because they are the future of the family.

Yet neither is as hateful as Walburga or Astrid or Regulus, specifically because Sirius took them to muggle London often, they were raised with Harry and Dora, and they were also forced to play with Mary's daughters, whom they ended up liking.

Helix is the luckiest; being the third son, there's not such pressure on him, seeing as his chances of one day becoming Head of House are very slim. So no one bothers to indoctrinate him quite as thoroughly. He was born after Arcturus died, so he escaped his influence entirely. From all of them, Helix will be the most chill about blood purity, the most likely to make muggleborn friends on his own, the one to bring back home muggle items and get away with it because he's the baby of the fam and he can do no wrong. However, he is still raised to take pride in his bloodline, so he has that Black excellency mind set, too.

Overall, I would say at least the boys have no issues with half-bloods, because this was where Sirius made the most effort; he was determined to protect Harry, so none of his sons hold inherent prejudice against half-bloods, especially half-bloods raised by wizards. Dora, to them, is as Black as the rest, and they don't care at all her father is a muggleborn. She has Black blood and that's all that matters. Orion wouldn't hesitate to put her on the family tree.

If someone told them half-bloods are less magical, they'll call that person an idiot. If someone told them Harry, specifically, is less magical than a pureblood, they would beat the shit out of that person. However, they are aware Harry is not a Black. Orion wouldn't put Harry on the family tree.

Muggles are a threat to them, not on an individual level, but on a gender scale. Muggles wouldn't react well if they find out about wizards, as we all know. Set aside the religious aspect that would make muggles go crazy, but also the fear factor- let's be real, none of us would be too happy to know there are wizards around that can erase our memory, control us with the Imperius etc. We would not feel comfortable knowing there are eleven year olds out there that are handed a weapon of mass destruction. No muggle army would love the thought a 14 year old kid could potential annihilate an entire batalion of muggles with a wave of his wand.

All wizards, including muggleborns, believe muggles would react violently towards the magical world, if they ever discovered it.

So, to Orion, and Sirius, and Lucius, and Harry, and even Dumbledore, they do understand the inherent threat muggles pose.

They will always keep their distance, and Orion, like all Blacks before him since the inquisition, will think muggles as a whole are dangerous to their community, but on an individual level they can be fine. But, in his option, best not to mix with them, lessen the odds of discovery.

#it runs in the blood

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loki-cees-all · 3 months ago

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Ch. 5 - Turn Against {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : Loki attempts to sneak out of your flat before you awaken.

W/c : 8.8k words

Content / Warnings : Fluff, angst, and a touch of smut.

Author's Note : Apologies this chapter took me so long to finish! After 6 months of working on it, it blew up to a length of 14k words and I ended up having to divide it into two chapters just to make the editing process more manageable. So congrats, this fic is now a grand total of 20 chapters! Yay!

Also, just fyi - I basically wrote the whole thing (so, Chapters 5 and 6 together) while watching Infinity War and Endgame on repeat, if that gives you any insight as to my mental state, or the amount of angst these chapters have. So, uh…good luck!! <3

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 27th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

A pair of ethereal beings slumbered peacefully in your bed.

Twisted among the silken sheets, your angelic form was snuggled against the chest of Loki’s duplicate - a leg hooked around one of his, an arm draped across his torso. Your fingers twitched in your sleep, your lungs slowly inhaled and exhaled in sync with that of his seidr. The only thing you had on was a quiet, serene expression - one that meant you were blissfully unaware of the trickery that had already befallen you, or of the cruel disappearing act that was yet to come.

The true Loki approached your bed with incredible precision, moving cautiously so as to not disturb the exquisite goddess or her beauty sleep. His gaze roamed lazily over your every curve, your every spasm and pulse, every inch of skin peeking out from beneath the sheets. The polish on your toes was cherry-red, the freckles on your back replicated the stars of the night sky, and the air from your lungs was sweet, intoxicating, mellifluous.

The entire scene was breathtaking, but that wasn’t what was suffocating him.

As he paused by your side, you stirred a little in your sleep - muscles tensing, breath hitching. Your face twitched lightly, brushing your cheek against the duplicate’s skin, and he responded in kind by holding you closer, squeezing you tighter, soothing and comforting you under the true Loki’s direction. And it worked; you relaxed in that false embrace, reassured by the solace of his presence enough to resume the slow, deep breathes in, and then back out.

This time, it was Loki’s turn for his breath to hitch. How was this possible? Why did you find serenity with him? What did you see in him that he could never see himself?

His eyes flicked to the mimic in bed with you. It matched his appearance in every single way, from the dark curls spread across the pillow to the tips of his fingers now tracing light circles along your arm. Its scent was the same, its voice would have been identical if you had needed to hear it. He could have switched places with it in less than a second, just to have you in his own arms once more, and you never would have known the difference.

Because the duplicate was him: a literal, physical manifestation of his deceit, cradling you tenderly while you slept. While the real one searched your apartment for the evidence of an addiction you clearly hadn’t developed yet. While he neglected his responsibilities back at the TVA, because he was too preoccupied with a future problem that he might cause to fully focus on the massive problem he’d definitely helped to cause at the end of time.

As usual, his attentions were divided. Lately it seemed as though any attempt to solve a problem would just create two more in its place. And forever the masochist, Loki was drifting hopelessly between the past, present, and future; stuck between a rock and a hard place, while being unable to fully focus on either.

He was trapped inside a personal Hel of his very own making.

It wasn’t fair that he hadn’t found you until after he’d broken the timelines. Without judgment or sound reason, you gazed upon him like the sun looked down at the clouds, parting the storms of his heart and warming the oceans of his mind, stilling the thoughts that swirled in nervous energy, and regret, and prayers that he could somehow be different for the both of you. That he didn’t have to choose between you or the TVA.

That he could somehow be with you, without being Loki.

He couldn’t help but wonder: if you’d been born on Asgard, would you still feel the same way about him? If you had grown up together, if you knew all of his secrets and heartbreaks and betrayals, would you have still slept this peacefully in his arms? Would you still look at him like he was somehow everything you’d ever wanted?

Perhaps in another timeline you did, and if he could manage to save the TVA after all, then maybe afterwards he should go searching for it.

Outside your flat, the sun was just starting to crest over the horizon. Its rays drifted in through the bay windows of your bedroom to bring on a beautiful, new day. But Loki needed to leave before you woke up. Actually saying goodbye wasn’t an option - because he couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either, and he certainly couldn’t predict the future.

In fact, no one knew what was going to happen now that the timelines were free, but he couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that somehow this would only end with his self-sacrifice; dying was the only sure way Loki knew how to redeem himself, and even if you never knew about it, he would have happily done it for you.

But even in the off chance that their efforts with the Loom were successful and he didn’t have to sacrifice himself - the next problem on the TVA’s To Do List was to deal with the variants of He Who Remains and their potential for waging multiversal war. And after that, there would inevitably be a thousand other problems for him to deal with, each one with more dire consequences than the last, and Loki would never be able to stop.

He’d never be able to take a moment to breathe, to exist, to just love you.

Loki wasn’t sure if he was in love with you now, but the appeal of letting himself feel something good was too much to ignore; in truth, he was only safe to feel it because he knew it was going to obliterate him later on, and it was why he couldn’t deny himself one last touch.

Kneeling beside the bed, the arm of his duplicate lifted slowly from your body. And as if it had been rehearsed, the true Loki brought his fingertips to brush through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. As if he were doing it mindlessly in his sleep, instead of doing it fully conscious while his heart shattered into a million pieces.

And he didn’t know if he was even capable of loving you. Loki had spent centuries hurting and longing for what he couldn’t have, bitter and resentful to what he had too much of, and disillusioned over everything else in between. At no point in his long life had his experiences ever been what anyone might call normal, especially not to a mere and simple human, and he’d long since forgotten what it was like to just be, let alone to have something he actually wanted to hold on to.

When Loki was younger, he believed love to be a calculated decision that required delicate measurement of the pros and cons. Which option would benefit Asgard the most as the spouse of its disinclined and least favorite prince? Who would be the most trustworthy to safeguard an outcast’s heart?

Back then, the obvious choice would have been whomever could simply tolerate him while maintaining an innocuous distance. It never would have been real, just like this couldn’t ever be.

As his fingers began another pass through your hair, he wondered what sort of tragedy had happened in your younger years to make you cling so tightly to such a broken thing like him. Had you loved, and then lost? Had you failed someone in the way he was about to fail you? Had you repeatedly cracked open your soul, only to have no one even notice?

Whatever it was, whatever atrocity had made you look at him like that, Loki both cherished and cursed it. He wanted to fix it, he wanted to make it worse. He wanted to see it, he wanted to taste it. To nurture it, to smother it, to let it rise and then push it back down. He wanted to be the cause of it, and then to be its cure.

His eyes filled with tears - big, wet, silent, pathetic ones. The tears of a child no longer allowed to keep the only thing that had ever brought him any kind of solace. His chest tightened, and he could feel the tears bleeding down his cheeks, painting sharp lines of misery and staining his skin red for anyone who dared to look closely enough.

This was so absurd, his reactions and feelings were so unbelievably foolish, because you were just a human. You didn’t really know him, and he didn’t really know you. Your perspective, by design, was so much more limited than his. What could you possibly ever have in common with him? Or him with you?

Whatever was waiting in your future - perhaps he was just overthinking it. Maybe the addiction had nothing to do with him at all. Maybe he was just projecting, maybe your feelings for him were nothing but casual ones, maybe you’d be able to completely forget about him as soon as he walked out the door. You’d be better off without him anyway.

That thought brought him some comfort, while quietly slitting his throat.

He swallowed hard, and tried to get a grip on himself. What was it that he was supposed to say on Svartalfheim, about Thor falling in love with the mortal Jane Foster?

It’s nothing. It’s a heartbeat. You’ll never be ready.

Loki’s biggest problem had always been never knowing when to walk away - and if he didn’t do it now, then it might someday be completely out of his control. Your path might lead you down a branched timeline, one that another rogue TVA agent could destroy. The Loom’s explosion could take out everyone and everything. Loki himself could accidentally get you killed, or worse - you could finally see him for what he really was, and decide to walk away from him instead.

The only woman whose love you’ve prized will be snatched from you.

Letting out a restrained breath, he dragged his hand across his face to wipe away the tears, while the other’s gentle touch remained in your hair. This was going to be tricky; once he left your bedroom, Loki was going to have to carefully withdraw the duplicate from your bed - slowly, cruelly, and without waking you up. He brushed his thumb along your cheekbone one last time, and just as he was debating on whether to kiss you goodbye, you startled yourself awake with a sharp gasp.

Loki panicked, and quickly switched places with the duplicate. His kneeling form beside the bed disappeared before you could fully open your eyes. His muscles tightened, and with a gasp of his own, and he pretended to just be waking up alongside you.

“Are you alright, darling?” he murmured breathlessly, nudging your temple with his nose and praying that you couldn’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“Huh? Oh…” Your eyelids fluttered quickly, attempting to blink away the sleep from your eyes. When you finally recognized him next to you, only then did your breathing slow. “No, I’m fine…”

He struggled to not let out a massive sigh of relief at that. Your grogginess had mercifully prevented notice of the two Lokis that had momentarily been in your presence, and he shuddered to think of what your reaction may have been had you seen it.

“Bad dream?” he asked softly, his fingers resuming their bittersweet caresses against your scalp.

Again, you had found solace within his touch. Your muscles relaxed as you sank back into his embrace, and his followed suit, finding just as much consolation in giving it as you did in receiving it. He couldn’t believe how little effort it took to bring you comfort, and in contrast, he could believe how little it took for him to offer it.

“Do you ever dream you’re falling so hard that your body thinks it’s actually falling…?”

Of course, his consultation was different. Unable to slip out quietly like he’d planned, he was now staring at the daunting task of actually saying goodbye - and possibly lying to your beautiful face in the process. Once again, hesitation had cost him dearly, and he wondered if he was ever going to be able to make a timely decision ever again.

“Of course. All the time, really…”

But truthfully, a part of him was extremely grateful for the chance to be in bed with you again. He adored the sensation of your warm skin against his, just as alluring and soft as it had been the night before. Stirring up all the same desires, making him ache for an encore performance. As his fingers drifted through your hair, the scent of gardenias stimulated the memories of his first kiss between the rows of Midgardian flora his mother had grown in her garden.

During the few times he’d had lovers in the past, mornings were always his favorite; the lazy kisses, bodies moving on autopilot but not without purpose or reason. It meant that the night before wasn’t a mistake. It was intentional, it was deliberate, it was worth repeating. He was actually wanted, and the idea of bringing on the new, terrible day with a subdued brisance of ecstasy was -

Loki scolded himself for letting his mind wander from this devastating predicament. His fingers drifted through your hair once more, brushing and massaging in the hope of keeping you from noticing the confliction on his face. Should he just promise to come back, even though he didn’t know if it was possible? Should he tell you it was goodbye forever instead, and then never return even on the off chance that he could?

You let out a peaceful hum as his fingers trailed down to your neck, pressing gently into the muscles and tendons to relieve any knots they found. Every part of you practically melted underneath his touch, and you snuggled into him deeper, unable to get enough. Your leg wrapped around his again, your lips brushed against the bare skin of his chest, and your gentle fingertips trailed along the lines of his abdomen.

“I was afraid you’d be gone by the time I woke up…”

His lips curved into a sad smile. Every murmured word was like another chain of iron locked around his ankles. Loki was used to ruining everything, and he knew he still might, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger just yet. Being of genuine use was a pleasure he was rarely afforded any more, even though it was all he really wanted.

When he had purpose, he had a place to belong.

“I’m still here, darling…” Loki had to stop himself from continuing, from promising to never leave, from cursing the TVA and all that was waiting for him back there. He was never one to subscribe to the ideology of “what will be, will be” before, but that option was looking better and better with each passing moment.

You shifted on the bed, working your lips up his chest, kissing over his heart and up to his collarbone. “And I am so very grateful that you are…” you hummed against his neck.

Unable to resist the effects of desire as it flooded his veins, Loki let out a deep groan. He tilted his head back to allow you better access to his flesh, your lips soft and warm as you tasted his skin. Why couldn’t he just stay here forever? Where pleasure was given and received so freely, and without expectation?

Once you were properly kissing his neck, his hands acted of their own accord, latching on to your ass and pulling you up to straddle him completely. You must have enjoyed that, because you gasped softly and eagerly pressed your hips to his, rolling and dragging yourself against his quickly hardening cock.

Your tongue swiped at his skin while you kissed and sucked on his neck, and your fingers tangled in his hair. The exhales from his nose were heavy, his moans were urgent, shameless. His muscles tightened and stretched underneath you, and he started to forget he’d ever heard of the Time Variance Authority before. Loki gripped your ass harder, encouraging your every movement.

“Are you sure you’ve got no other place to be?” you murmured breathlessly, grinding yourself just a little harder against him, clearly wanting this just as much as he did.

His cock twitched hungrily, his fingers dug their need into your skin. Loki would gladly trade the next millennia or two in happy exchange to keep such a beautifully eager woman writhing against him. He groaned out a sound reminiscent of the word “no” before cupping your jaw and angling your mouth to his.

Deeply passionate kisses consumed you both, and your arms locked around his neck. You passed heated moans back and forth, and Loki could feel how much you wanted this as you coated his cock in arousal. He began adjusting your hips to allow him entry when you murmured one last question against his lips.

“So you’re not married? No wife or kids to get back home to?”

Loki froze, and then burst into laughter. His entire body shook as his head tilted back with eyes closed, eyebrows raised, completely flabbergasted by the idea. Married? With children?! Who could be foolish enough to do such a thing with him?

When he managed to compose himself enough to open his eyes, the forlorn expression on your face sobered him completely. Concern had pulled your eyebrows to the heavens, and your lips had parted with childlike embarrassment to both your question, and his unexpected reaction to it. He forced himself to stop laughing, to position his brow into sincerity as he caressed your cheeks with both hands.

“Darling, darling, darling…what could have possibly possessed you to ask such a thing?” he murmured cautiously, dragging his thumbs along your cheekbones. His eyes desperately searched yours, trying to see what it was that troubled you.

“Well, it’s just that…You know, I just don’t - ” you sighed, then paused to chew on the inside of your cheek.

Loki’s heart ached as you stammered along while carefully avoiding his gaze. It would have been adorable, if it hadn’t been so heartbreaking.

Of course, Loki had a sinking feeling about what you were really after, but he didn’t know how to explain himself. The only other experience he could possibly derive guidance from had happened to his brother, but even that wasn’t the same; Jane Foster had always understood Thor to be a mythological being of the cosmos from the very beginning.

As usual, his brother hadn’t needed to lie about who he was or where he was from; Thor had never once needed to endure the humiliation of trying to explain himself. And as usual, Loki found himself envious of the blind confidence that flashed like lightning through every fiber of Thor’s being. It wasn’t fair that he’d never had to prepare for situations like this.

Situations like this, where Loki definitely should have known better.

Because it wasn’t like their father had ever provided instructions on how to break the news of their otherworldly existences to their mortal lovers; in fact, Odin had explicitly forbidden the idea altogether. And as he watched the gears whirling in your mind, as they tried to put the right words in the correct order, or maybe they were trying to spool up enough energy to just blurt it out - Loki wished that he had listened to his father.

He wished that none of this had ever happened. He wished that he’d never been kidnapped by the TVA, he wished that he’d never met Brad Wolfe. He wished that he’d never decided to get back at him by seducing his date to the movie premiere. He wished the duplicate Tony Stark had never dropped the Tesseract, and he wished that he’d never picked it up at all.

Loki wished he could wake up tomorrow in the dungeons of Asgard. He wished he could experience, first-hand, the deaths of his mother, and then his father. He wished he could personally hammer that final nail into the coffin of his brother’s trust. He wished it could be his neck that Thanos had snapped.

Because even if everything worked out perfectly - even if you somehow accepted his truth, something no one else had ever managed to do, even if he managed to save the TVA and all the timelines, even if he was able to stop HWR and prevent multiversal war - in 50 years time, you would still be gone.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to watch your hair fade to gray. He would be able to count the smile lines as they grew along your cheeks, and he’d be there for every single frown, every single moment of joy. Every spot of luck, every inconvenience, every tragedy, every victory. But then he’d also have to watch it all turn to ash, and he’d have to continue on alone after you were gone.

Seeing the ones he loved come and go, watching them pass him by while he was powerless to stop it, was a burden he was simply unwilling to bear.

Loki’s attention was drawn to your lips as they started moving. The sound of your voice was muffled in his ears, and your eyes darted back and forth between staring off into the distance and making brief, heartbreaking contact with his. He could tell you were stammering and struggling to make sense of your thoughts, but he was too busy picturing your casket to even really listen.

“I just - I just don’t know anything about you, Loki!”

The exclamation was made out in defiance of yourself. It was only then that your gaze became totally affixed to his - watching, waiting, hoping for some kind of answer from the stranger in your bed.

Loki matched your anticipatedly heartsick expression with one of his own. His brows slanted upwards while his eyes grew immense with regret and remorse; for someone whose many monikers included the God of Lies, he was truthfully finding himself completely out of his depth with you. His throat tightened, sealing off his lungs from the air in your bedroom, but he somehow managed a meager smile.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to know about me, darling,” Loki replied, hoping to assuage some imaginary guilt you may have been harboring. He prayed this was all you really needed to hear, anyway. “But I can assure you, wholeheartedly, that I do not have a spouse, nor any children, that I’m hiding from you…”

You stared at him closely while he spoke, as if you were looking for any twitch or vellication that might have betrayed his answer. Once none could be found, your eyes narrowed in careful dissection of what appeared to be the truth. Loki’s heart fluttered with twinges of nervous energy and pure admiration for the only mortal he’d ever felt drawn to; he just hoped you were aware of how intelligent you were, and how much it both terrified, and impressed, him.

After another moment or two, your demeanor shifted once more, altering your calculating gaze into something much more friendly and open-minded. You smiled sweetly while bending your elbow against a pillow and propping your head against your palm. The fingertips of your other hand moved to trace light, swirling patterns against his bare chest, and Loki was sure that this time you could feel his breath hitch inside his lungs.

“Can you tell me what you do for a living then?” you murmured softly, clearly attempting a different tactic to pull his precious details out into the open.

But Loki could still see right through your methods. He was, unfortunately, quite used to being interrogated for both the things he had and had not actually done; when you’re known to the Nine Realms as the God of Mischief, everyone practically falls over themselves trying to be the one to finally catch you in the act of malfeasance, just to prove to everyone else how clever and ingenuitive they were.

And as much as it hurt to constantly be on the receiving end of such distrust and misfortune, it had also fortified and strengthened Loki’s adaptability and perseverance. But the one thing he hadn’t ever counted on was that someday he’d find himself in the bed of the most beautiful and extraordinary lover he’d ever known, who was asking him for the kind of truth he simply had no way to provide.

“It’s…complicated,” Loki answered with a patient sigh. He brought his fingertips to caress the back of your hand as it traced over his skin. The contact was so very soothing to him, and he hoped it would, at the very least, be a distraction for you.

But it didn’t work. Instead, your gaze burned hotter into his. “If there’s not much to know about you, then how complicated could it really be?”

Loki chuckled as he dragged his knuckles up the length of your forearm. “Oh, you’d be surprised…”

“Well, thankfully I love those. So I’m all ears.” You shifted closer on the bed, hooking one of your bare legs around his, flexing your foot to brush slowly along the inside of his calf. The smile on your lips was patiently, and infuriatingly, insistent.

Loki’s breath hitched yet again. His blood chilled underneath the weight of someone paying such close and affectionate attention to him; he simply didn’t know what to do with it. He never had.

Almost with a mind of their own, his eyes shifted down to his fingertips as they resumed tracing up the length of your arm. Despite everything, Loki couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you, even though he knew it was just further trapping him within a time loop of lingering and longing.

And you didn’t recoil when he touched you; that would never, ever cease to surprise, or alarm, him. Thus, a game of tug of war ensued deep within his heart - a hand of cold, gnarled fingers pulling it towards outright vitriol, and a kind, loving hand attempting to guide it towards acceptance. But both destinations were terrifying in their own ways, and neither hand was able to make any significant progress.

Loki cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding direct contact with yours while you waited for his reply. His thoughts raced by at a trillion miles an hour. They collided and smashed together behind his signature furrowed brow and measured persona, fracturing and blending into an unrecognizable mess - one that was completely uncharacteristic, uncomfortable and unforgivable to the God of Mischief. Selecting a single and coherent idea was going to be next to impossible, and he absolutely loathed feeling this out of control over his own mind.

“Why do you need to know so badly?”

It was the only thing he could manage to say, and he immediately regretted it. The way your face fell rivaled the destruction of many great civilizations the Nine Realms had known and lost over the past millennia. Your eyes widened like the Bifrost’s beam as it opened upon the cold, barren wasteland of Jotunheim.

Your breath hitched like the innocent citizens of New York when the Chitauri Army descended from the Heavens. Your formerly warm skin turned colder than Thor’s expression when the last flames of hope that Loki might still turn things around died on his features.

But Loki knew that to be an impossible endeavor, if your anguish was to be any sort of indication. He’d never be able to turn things around, not really. He was very well accustomed to judgment, and of condemnation - to conviction without trial, and to criticism without consideration. They were the necessary bedfellows that came with his title.

And they were comfortable, familiar. They allowed him to stand defiant in the face of total and complete reckoning, and they also saved him from the problem of trying, and inevitably failing, to be better than anyone could ever hope for him to be.

But the look on your face right now was something else entirely. Your eyebrows arched upwards, recreating the highest precipice of the Asgardian palace - a home that wasn’t ever really his, one that was built with shimmering gold and the most rubious of blood. Along with the emerald of your sheets, those were the only colors he really knew how to paint with.

It was honestly shocking how much your expression truly rattled him; he felt like a child again, cowering behind his mother’s skirts because he hadn’t yet figured out how to talk his way out of whatever trouble he’d found himself in. Except this time, there was no Frigga to do the talking for him. There were no skirts, or titles, or utter defiance for him to hide behind - it was just you, and him, laid bare and mute underneath the silk sheets of your bed.

Loki was sure that he’d ruined everything…again. What he didn’t know, however, was why your reaction was one of hurt. He had seen the spark dim in your eyes and he could feel you recoiling even as your mouth opened and closed, in slow-motion and without sound, as you attempted to answer his slightly cruel, albeit fair, question.

Why did you need to know so badly? Why was he starting to fear that this may be more than a passing dalliance to you? Why did that warm his heart with feelings of worthiness, while simultaneously cracking it under the weight of all that responsibility?

So maybe it would be better to let that question fester into an open wound of resentment, instead of trying to reassure, or deflect, or explain. Despite being all too aware of his own shortcomings, Loki had no idea how to broach the subject himself; that was something that was always done for him. He’d never had to suffer the drought of no one to remind him of his repeated failings before, and thus, never really learned how to bring them up on his own. Where would he even start explaining?

Not to mention, this might make leaving easier. He could just stand up and get dressed, taking the time to actually button and buckle and fasten the Midgardian ensemble he’d conjured just for you, while he repeated the question and made you feel like a fool for wanting to know him better. Didn’t you know he was just using you? That this wasn’t ever going to be serious and that it was just for the game, for the chase, for the sex?

Loki knew how to be cruel. It was the only thing he was better at than being a massive, colossal force of chaos and destruction - and he’d learned it from the very best. Callosity was like breathing to him; he didn’t feel alive unless he was driving a dagger into someone else’s heart. And then afterwards mocking them so they couldn’t see that he was bleeding even more than they were.

That was easy. It was familiar, it was safe.

It was home. It was his home.

Finally accepting the inevitable, Loki let out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t carry on with this imposture any longer, it was too risky. You could find out what he really was, or you could simply not believe his explanation at all.

Loki raked a nervous hand through his dark and tangled curls as he straightened his back away from your headboard. He swallowed hard, steeling his expression into something far more neutral than how he felt, and then he forced himself to finally use his favorite dagger of betrayal once more.

“Listen, darling…I - ”

A sharp, piercing ring suddenly echoed across the flat, and behind it, followed a penetrative silence. Its air was tense, suffocating the rest of his sentence and making it perish on his tongue. The sound of metal striking metal in that brief and frenzied rhythm was unexpected, but the Asgardian still was able to recognize the source of the noise as an innocent and harmless doorbell. He remained unreactive, his curious gaze fixed solely on you.

Your response, however, was different; you’d practically jumped out of your skin, clearly not expecting your own doorbell to ring at such an imperative moment. Your heart beat a rapid cadence inside your chest, and there was just a tiny bit of air lodged in your throat.

But other than a vigorous heartbeat and your lungs heaving for more oxygen, you didn’t move. You said nothing, you did nothing - you just stared at him like it was his fault the doorbell had rung.

Sensing your need for a push, Loki reached forward, gently brushing his fingers along the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “Darling, were you expecting additional visitors?”

Your pupils dilated at the sound of his voice, and your eyelids blinked once, twice, three times as you processed his latest question. Your brow raised and then furrowed as you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, your eyes desperately trying to decipher the lines and numbers and what they meant when illuminated together.

Loki wasn’t sure if you were still exhausted from the very late night you’d spent with him, or if his first question had rattled you that much. But the look on your face was honestly so adorable that he almost forgot that he’d been only seconds away from saying goodbye forever.

“Darling?” he murmured again just before the doorbell rang again, this time in a short series of three bursts to indicate the visitor’s urgency.

And this time, it suddenly clicked in your mind that it was your responsibility to actually answer the door. You quickly mumbled excuses as you popped upright, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed and practically gliding across the bedroom to throw something on.

Once again, desire roared to life in his veins, and he was unable to stop himself from admiring your naked form as you moved. As your muscles and tendons and ligaments all stretched and contracted with such supernal purpose, as your delicate hands reached for the silken, phthalo green fabric draped across the bench at the foot of your bed. Practiced fingers worked quickly to push both arms through the robe’s sleeves and situate the collar around your neck as you continued heading for the door.

Each movement was stunning and comforting, and Loki watched as though he were in the presence of a divinity so healing it could easily cure him of everything that had ever aggrieved, bruised or lacerated him. Watching you quite literally took his breath away; never before had the God of Mischief been so entranced, so mesmerized, so captivated by the simple act of getting dressed.

He didn’t even mind when you pulled the panels closed around your waist, obfuscating the curves and swells of your thighs and hips and torso. Because he’d already memorized your form; it was etched so profoundly into his mind that he wasn’t sure how deep it actually went.

And without even trying to, you answered every question he’d ever had. It made him want to ask even more questions, like why was the sky blue? How many stars could you count before you finally lost track? Would you object to ignoring the doorbell and having breakfast in bed with him instead?

Loki barely registered another triplicate of harsh doorbell rings, but he was aware of you disappearing through the door frame with an exasperated shout to the mystery caller.

“Yes, yes! I’m coming, I’m coming…”

Your bedroom was noticeably colder after you left; your bed, freezing. Loki swallowed hard, his lonely gaze falling upon the heap of his wrinkled suit, pulled off in a hurry the evening before and discarded carelessly on the floor. Somewhere in the pockets of his trousers lay the TemPad, ready to transport him back to the TVA and all its problems - both the ones he’d already caused, and the future problems still waiting to be revealed.

Loki pulled the sheets away and swung his legs over the edge of your bed. His head hung low, shoulders dropped and tendrils of the darkest night hanging in his eyes, blending into his perception of what you’d left behind. Down the hallway, he could hear you speaking to the visitor through the flat’s intercommunication system, blissfully unaware of the plight distressing the God you’d just spent the night with.

How did his life turn into this? All he’d wanted was a chance to breathe, to let his muscles finally relax. To possibly let his body finally heal after all the horrors he’d endured so far. But instead, he found himself locked in the sham of a fascist organization, and the only way to escape it was to dismantle it from the inside. That, in turn, somehow and inexplicably, had led him to all of this. It had brought him right here to you.

This room, and him inside of it, was now a barren, withering moon; a lifeless satellite, drifting aimlessly in the dark without its shining star to tether itself to. His sun was so far away now, unlocking the front door to her universe and happily greeting her unexpected visitor. He could feel the warmth of your light by the smile in your voice, in the way you laughed in excitement from whatever the visitor had to say. The sound was so alluring, beckoning him closer like the call of the most tempting siren.

Weary muscles groaned as Loki pushed himself up to standing. He desperately didn’t want to go, but time was running out; any moment now you’d return to the bedroom, and he’d have to say goodbye face-to-face. That was a scene he knew he did not have the strength to withstand, not after everything else he’d already lost. He’d much rather just run away again.

His feet shuffled forward, and Loki reluctantly retrieved his trousers from the floor. They were heavier than they should have been, what with the tremendous weight of the multiverse conveniently stored inside the compact and portable device hidden in his pocket. It was too much responsibility; how much easier this would all be if he could just forsake it and stay here instead.

Stalling, Loki chose to ignore the option of spellwork to get dressed. He thought about intentionally smashing the TemPad to destroy it entirely, and take away the option of leaving altogether - but instead he slipped one foot through the trouser leg.

Out in the kitchen, you were saying farewell to your visitor. Loki was dying to know who it was, and why they dropped by. He wondered if he could ever manage to blend into your life; could he charm your friends? Your parents? Could he actually handle having a job, and paying taxes, and pretending to go to the doctor once a year for a check-up?

It couldn’t be worse than spending his youth trying to prove himself a worthy son to a father who would never see him as such. But could he stand manually getting dressed every morning? Could he really go that long without his seidr?

Loki slipped the other foot through its trouser leg. He thought about X-5, and how eager he was to return to this timeline, to this life. Was it a life with you he wanted, or did he just want to be loved after spending so much time in a place that had never once valued the individual experience?

The front door to your flat was closed, and then locked. His trousers now buttoned and zipped, Loki picked up his white shirt and pushed his arms through the sleeves. He thought about Mobius and his incredible self-restraint, how he was somehow easily managing to ignore the potentials of his own timeline.

What if it’s something good? Do you think I wanna have that rattling around in here?

It was as admirable as much as it was infuriating. If Mobius ever knew what he was considering, if Mobius ever discovered that Loki wasn’t giving his complete and undivided attention to the more pressing issue of the Temporal Loom, then he would be so impressively furious. He’d be so disappointed, he’d call Loki expedient and selfish and narcissistic.

But didn’t Loki deserve something good for a change? He’d once had just about anything one could hope for, even with a disdainful shadow hanging over his shoulder. How much more would he have to lose before his selfishness was to be labeled justified, understandable, warranted?

A long life of clinging to discarded scraps had made him selfish. But it wasn’t sickness, it was necessity.

Of course he’d rather stay with you. Here, he was valued and appreciated. He was allowed to feel good, and dare he say it - wanted, even. Something he’d never once experienced in over a thousand years of tortured existence. Who wouldn’t be clinging to a liferaft while drowning in a vast ocean of nothingness?

In the kitchen, the faucet was running, and the sound of cabinets opening and then closing echoed down the hallway. You were starting your day with or without him, it seemed. But that was to be expected, thanks to his earlier, thoughtless question, and it was a feeling he should have become used to by now. As Loki caught his reflection in the mirror above your bureau, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Only a few weeks had passed since he’d escaped from the clutches of Thanos and the Black Order, and this was the first time he’d gazed upon himself since the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. He was slimmer than he remembered. But instead of that gauntness sharpening his features as one would expect, Loki saw himself fading away within the hunger of yearning. His Godly features were dulling before his very own eyes, seeming to drift away into abstraction while he got dressed in a mortal suit and tie.

Yet again, Loki was pretending to be something he wasn’t. That was all he’d ever done, instead of determining what it was that he wanted or forging his own path forward. He’d either do his best at what was expected of him, or he’d intentionally do the complete opposite of it, just to punish them for never asking what he wanted for himself.

The irony was he’d never be able to answer that question. He simply didn’t know what he wanted. Even now, the TVA and all its people were both on the verge of total annihilation, and here he was wishing he could just crawl back into bed with a human. No matter which option he chose, the guilt of not picking the other might very well eat him away from the inside.

But what if he didn’t have to choose between those two paths at all?

For the first time in his life, Loki could truly create his own destiny. There was no one pulling the strings anymore, no pre-fabricated tragedy for him to obediently succumb to. He could button up his shirt as fast or as slowly as he wanted, he could snake his feet into his socks and shoes, or forgo them entirely. He could join you in the kitchen, slip his arms around your waist, and he could promise to return soon.

He could mean that promise, and it was possible that he could fulfill it too.

Moving hastily, Loki finished getting dressed. He tucked the dress shirt into his trousers and he retrieved his tie from the floor, slipping its middle into his pocket and leaving the ends to dangle down the length of his thigh. He picked up his jacket from the floor, folded it neatly over his arm, and then he began his approach into the hallway with his chin held higher than it’d been in a very long time.

He could do this, he could make this work. He could have his Key Lime pie, and he could eat it too.

Successfully ignoring the horned candelabrum on the narrow bookshelf, he instead admired your displayed photographs as he moved down the hallway. Your smile was so joyous and bright in all of them, but especially in the ones where you made goofy faces with your friends. When you dressed up for holidays with your family. While standing in front of that treasured crepe myrtle in the backyard of your childhood home, the one that clearly meant so very much to you.

There was nothing in your past that indicated a miserable future, only the deep-seated roots of pleasant memories. Loki hoped that would be enough to keep you safe until he fixed the Loom, but he felt optimistic about his chances as he approached the kitchen; he was going to keep you from falling into the clutches of addiction, and he was going to save the Temporal Loom at the same time. There was no one around to decide that he wasn’t allowed to any longer.

If there was only one true thing in the entirety of the multiverse, it was that he despised being told that he couldn’t do something.

And afterwards, he would go to the Æsir to request a spell. If necessary, he’d return to Asgard to search their libraries, and he’d go to New York and interrogate the so-called Sorcerer Supreme. He’d tear apart the entirety of the Nine Realms if he had to - all in search of a way to allow you to live as long as he would, just so he’d never have to figure out how to say goodbye.

After rounding the hallway’s corner, he found you were standing in front of the kitchen stove, carefully measuring out spoonfuls of dark brown granules and methodically pouring them into a tall, silver pot. Your eyes were bleary, your movements sluggish but not without purpose. But in that early morning light, while wearing nothing but a silk robe, Loki found you entirely and completely magnificent.

“Would you like some coffee before you go?”

Your question was soft and polite. There was an air of distance to it that Loki simply couldn’t blame you for, but it also wasn't anything he couldn’t fix. He flashed his best, most impeccable smile as he laid his suit jacket over a barstool and seated himself on the other.

“Yes, that would be lovely, my dear, thank you.”

On the other side of the counter, you tried to hide the shy smile that crept across your lips, but it was impossible for him to miss. He grinned in return, thinking how lucky he might be to someday get to see that smile every morning.

Shifting his attention, Loki watched closely as you quietly assembled the rest of the contraption before placing it on the range. He may have been slightly out of touch when it came to Midgardian habits, but he did understand coffee to be of great and immeasurable importance to humans. He’d even grown fond of it himself, after several expeditions in his youth to visit each of the Nine Realms.

And he could tell this intricate procedure of yours was dutifully performed every single morning, regardless of how late you’d been up the night before. That it granted you comfort, and just the smallest bit of control amidst the rampant chaos of the world. So he watched carefully, intending to memorize the steps so that someday he could be able to perform this task for you instead.

“Who was at the door earlier?” he asked softly, eager to avoid a return to the previous, more unpleasant conversation you’d almost had before. The one that no longer mattered. “Was it another gentleman caller hoping to have coffee with you?”

You laughed and shook your head while removing a match from the cardboard box. “No. It was just the doorman, if you must know…”

“Doormen still drink coffee, do they not?” Loki teased, his eyes sparkling and his shoulders shrugging innocently.

You struck the match along the textured side of the matchbox. The tip ignited flawlessly, momentarily erupting into a wild, bulbous flame before settling into a controlled burn.

“I mean, if I was your doorman, I’d certainly be up here to have coffee with you every morning…”

“Oh, would you now?” you murmured with a smile, shifting over to the stovetop and carefully adjusting the burner’s dial. You brought the lit match just close enough to ignite the burner, and then blew it out. “Something tells me you wouldn’t be a very good doorman if you were only focused on opening and closing my door…”

This time it was Loki’s turn to laugh. He shifted on the barstool, his long legs splayed wild and leaning closer to you with his elbows on the counter. “Yes, I suppose I’d probably be dismissed pretty quickly, wouldn’t I?”

“Mmhmm. And then you’d have to go to doorman remedial classes to restore your honor,” you grinned playfully while turning on the faucet to run cool water over the extinguished match, just to be certain that it was out completely. “That would be so humiliating, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, and we can’t have that, can we?” Loki replied, tilting his head curiously. He found your behaviors to be quite intriguing; every action had a specific purpose, a unique rhythm to them. Every item had a designated place, a proper condition that it needed to exist as. You were clearly a meticulously neat person, and he thought it was terribly endearing.

After tossing the thoroughly drenched match into the trash bin, you then pulled a folded cloth out of an overhead cupboard, let it soak under the running water, and then shut the faucet off.

“So, tell me. What is it that exemplary doormen do while they’re on the job? Perhaps I just need a lesson or two…”

Your arm swung in wide circles over the countertop, collecting any spilled coffee grounds with the damp cloth and guiding them into the sink.

“Oh, he was just bringing up the script that was dropped off while I was out last night.” You nodded towards a neat stack of correspondence beside him on the counter. At the very bottom was a large, cream-colored packet with the words “PERSONAL and CONFIDENTIAL” stamped in red ink at each corner.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of him.”

You nodded in agreement. “Apparently he was very excited when he arrived at work this morning and saw it. He just couldn’t wait to bring it up here.”

“I see. And this doorman - is he a strapping young lad?” Loki grinned. It was hard to say if he just wanted to make you smile again, or if he was actually trying to suss out any potential competition for your affections. “A dashing gentleman, eager to impress a beautiful woman such as yourself?”

The countertops now wiped clean, you made an amused and befuddled face as you began to rinse out the washcloth in the sink. “Oh, my God, no! He’s my father’s age, I’ve known him since I was a child.”

Loki’s smile shifted into warmth, his heart full with the reassurance that there were so many people out there who loved and cared about you. He wondered if you knew how lucky you were, and what his life might have looked like if he had been afforded the same luxury.

But as it was, everything seemed to be like it should. The vessel on the range was steadily heating up, thanks to the light blue flames licking up its sides from underneath. Your kitchen was spotless, he had a beautiful companion at his side, and for once, Loki wasn’t being hunted by an enemy hellbent on either killing him or ruining his life again.

“I went to school with his daughter, and she’s still my best friend. So he thinks of me as like a second daughter,” you continued, wringing out the excess water from the cloth and draping it neatly over the faucet’s neck.

“And what about this script made your second father so excited?” Loki asked, trying not to think about the fact that he’d once had two fathers himself, until he’d murdered his biological one. “Is it for a role you hope to get, or for a role you already have?”

You shifted to open another cupboard behind you. Inside, neat and organized stacks of matching dishware of the crispest white awaited your selection. You pulled out two sets of mugs and a saucer for each before turning back towards him. “Oh, it’s for - ”

An unexpected, and loud, electronic chirp interrupted your answer.

You both froze in place, but for very different reasons - your eyebrows raised, and your eyes darted around the flat as though you weren’t sure that you had actually heard the startling noise or not. You certainly had no idea what had caused it, and it showed in your expression.

Loki froze because he knew the sound had come from the TemPad hidden inside his pocket.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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