#minority government might be possible who knows

[murderballadeer]

anyway i'm praying for legault's downfall now that hundreds of thousands of public service workers are out on strike for better pay as he's offering $7million for some hockey games. the strikes are happening all over the province and the majority of quebecers know someone who is on strike (if they aren't on strike themselves) so hopefully this makes people think abt how teachers and nurses are more valuable than a few hockey games

[cuubism]

The thing is.

Hob understands that Dream cannot be hurt easily. He is an ancient, powerful, nonhuman being. Hob has, in fact, heard a story from Matthew about when some foolish human wannabe-magician had attempted to stab him when Dream had gone to retrieve a spell book that had slipped from the Dreaming library. According to Matthew, the knife had simply gone through his chest like he was made of smoke and left no mark at all.

(Hob still wishes he had been there. He’d have snapped the guy’s arm. Or worse.)

Barring luck and a magical binding, like what happened with Roderick Burgess, Dream can’t be hurt by mortal means. Hob understands this. Hell, he can hardly be hurt by supernatural means either. Only a few very powerful beings would be able to manage it, or else the very laws that govern his existence, coming down upon his head.

The thing also is.

Dream bruises so easily.

Sometimes.

Like now, when Dream is actually limping across the floor of the Inn. Long coat, which usually does not come with him to the waking world, wrapped tight around him. A dark bruise blooms along his cheekbone. Hob doesn’t understand how it’s possible. It shouldn’t be, not when Dream can take a knife to the heart like it’s a gust of wind, but the fact of the matter is that it is possible, apparently. And so Hob’s got to do something about it.

He meets Dream halfway across the room, braces him by the arms. “Jesus, Dream. Are you hurt?” Well, evidently he is. “How badly?”

“I told him he should stay home and rest,” grumbles Matthew from where he’s hopping along the floor at Dream’s side. Hob hadn’t even seen him there, he’d been so focused on Dream. The fact that Matthew’s not even riding on Dream’s shoulder is not a good sign.

“I did not want to miss our meeting,” Dream says. Which is a hell of a thing.

“Come upstairs, then,” Hob says, and doesn’t quite realize he’s grabbed Dream’s arm and is right pulling him along until he’s already done it. But Dream just follows him. Matthew follows, too, which, again, is not making Hob feel confident about Dream not being too badly injured.

“What happened?” Hob asks, as he sits Dream down on the couch, perching carefully at his side.

“A minor altercation,” says Dream.

“He was thrown into a wall,” says Matthew. “The wall cracked, by the way.”

Hob winces in sympathy. “Thrown by who? Or… what?”

Dream says, “It’s of no consequence.”

Matthew says, “I don’t know, but it had a lot of limbs.”

Hob’s kind of glad Matthew’s here as bullshit translator right now.

“How badly were you hurt?” he asks again. Not badly enough to keep him from traveling, evidently, but badly enough that he is limping. As a measly little human, Hob might find himself limping for a while just by twisting his ankle going down the stairs— but he does not like that intersection of facts when it’s someone like Dream.

“I am fine,” says Dream, and then winces as he shifts his weight on the couch.

“Bullshit,” say Hob and Matthew simultaneously, after which Matthew adds, “Uh, I mean, bullshit, your lordship.”

Dream slants a reproving glance over at him, then back to Hob. “Can I see?” Hob asks, more gently. “I’d like to help. If I can.”

Gingerly, Dream shrugs his long robe off his shoulders. Underneath, he’s wearing his usual black t-shirt, and at Hob’s urging he pulls that off over his head, too, though evidently with some pain. His chest and stomach seem uninjured, the unnaturally pale and smooth skin is still just that, unnaturally pale and smooth— so Hob tugs on his shoulder. “Can I see your back?”

Dream turns, and Hob tries not to think too hard about Dream doing his bidding like that—it’s tender and troubling and arousing all at once, and he’s definitely not going to think about that last bit—and sucks in a breath.

His back is a map of bruises, nebulae arcing over his shoulders and the nape of his neck, curling down over his spine like a coiled dragon. Dream bruises prettily, even like this, periwinkle and dusk blue, the purple of sunset clouds. Another reminder of how Night, too, lives within him.

“I told you,” Matthew says, hopping up onto the back of the couch by Hob’s shoulder.

Dream makes a grumbling sound, but doesn’t deny him this time.

Hob traces a light hand along his shoulder blade and the deep, spilled-watercolor of the bruise there. Thrown into a wall, Matthew had said. Ouch.

Dream shivers at the touch, and Hob says, tentative, “Do you usually bruise like that, love?”

He’s seen it before, though not this bad. Lines of strain on Dream’s hands. A red, banded mark on his arm on one of the few occasions he’d taken his coat off in Hob’s presence. He wants to hear it from Dream, though.

Dream says, tentative now, hunched on the couch like a wounded physical thing rather than what he is, “I… suppose.”

Sitting only in his tight jeans and boots, hair a mess, the mark on his cheek makes him look hunted. Hob touches that too, with light fingertips. Dream leans into his hand with a little sigh, and… oh. That’s something.

“Hey, he got the shit kicked out of him like a few days ago and just walked away like it was nothing,” Matthew complains, as if Dream’s I suppose answer is ridiculous. “And then obliterated the other guy, too.”

“Sorry, when was this?” Hob is still holding Dream’s cheek, but Dream doesn’t turn further to meet his eyes. “Why are you getting beaten up all the time, exactly?”

He’s not Dream’s minder. He’s not. He’s not. Hob forces himself to remember that fact.

“In my absence many have forgotten the might and sanctity of the Dreaming,” says Dream, and if Hob’s not mistaken there’s a little whining petulance in his tone which is… endearing, almost. “Other realms have become… impudent. Entitled. I am simply. Reminding them to show respect. Sometimes physical conflict is necessary.”

Hob sighs. “Well, Your Majesty, maybe it’s time to take a break from the ritual dueling, yeah?”

“…Perhaps,” Dream says, which is as much of an agreement as Hob ever gets.

He supposes he’ll take perhaps. Though the more he thinks about it, the more distressing it is to imagine Dream going around getting hurt. Even if he thinks he’s doing it for some important cause.

“Well, there’s not much I can do for these right now,” Hob says, and can’t keep the concern out of his voice. “Other than letting them heal on their own.”

“I see,” says Dream, and if Hob’s not mistaken his voice is small. And he reaches for his shirt, and—

“Hey.” Hob grabs his wrist. Dream freezes. “That doesn’t mean you have to leave?” He hates that it comes out as a question.

Dream wavers. Then he says, “Matthew.”

It’s loaded with more than just Matthew’s name. An order. Matthew squawks indignantly. “Boss! Come on. You’re really gonna send me back like that? When you’re like this?”

Dream just looks at him.

Matthew sighs, fluttering his wings. “Fine. Have your special private time, then.”

Special private time, Hob mouths to himself.

Matthew lifts his wings for takeoff. “You better not send him back with more bruises, Hobert.”

“Excuse me?”

Then he’s gone, winging out a window that Hob hadn’t realized was open. Maybe it wasn’t a moment ago. Who knows.

Dream looks after him, and sighs with real fatigue. “His insolence only grows.”

“Special private time?” Hob says, and Dream glances at him, and then away.

“He is under the impression that you are my…” he says, and trails off.

Oh. Well.

They’re not like that. But.

But?

Dream looks despondent now, staring off into the corner of the flat, back still turned to Hob’s chest. Hob’s become certain that he wants something, he came here for something, not just to make their usual meeting time… but he still doesn’t know what.

Probably he should ask. Not that that ever works with Dream. Probably he should anyway.

Instead he presses his lips to the curve of Dream’s shoulder, where the bruise is deepest blue.

Dream shudders, and then goes slack in his grip, his shoulders caving. “Hob…”

“Is that what you wanted?” Hob says against his skin. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He can’t believe Dream is letting him. “Does it hurt very badly? Is that helping?”

“It…” Dream muses, and sighs. “Is. Helping.”

Hob takes Dream’s chin between his fingers and turns his face enough that he can kiss his cheek, over the horrible sprawled mark of the bruise. Dream’s eyes flutter shut. He braces a hand on Hob’s thigh as he twists back to lean into Hob’s touch. Hob could use his grip to turn his head further and kiss him properly, he thinks, with a trip in his chest. Dream’s lips are right there, soft and open.

Instead, he leans his head on the back of Dream’s neck. Lets his hands fall to Dream’s bare waist, lips brushing his skin as he says, “You don’t… really bruise, do you?”

Dream still has his head tipped back; Hob’s hair brushes his cheek. “It affects you to see it,” he says quietly.

“Of course it does,” Hob says, equally hushed now. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

“Even,” says Dream, almost tentative, “if I am not truly hurt?”

“You are hurt,” Hob says, and finally draws the strength to lift his head from Dream’s neck. Dream is still looking at him, over his shoulder. His eyes are very dark in the dim light, rimmed red, he looks soft and fragile as a flower petal and Hob would do anything for him. “You were thrown into a wall by ‘something with a lot of limbs’, after all.”

Dream huffs. “Matthew exaggerates.”

“It’s okay if you want it to matter,” Hob tells him. That’s what it is, isn’t it? “To… be seen.” He slides his hand over Dream’s where it still rests on his thigh, twines their fingers together. A flicker of stillness runs through Dream’s body, the way a human’s breath might catch. Hob thinks he might pull away.

Instead he yields, and Hob exhales hard, a breath that had coiled far too tight in his lungs unwinding. Dream caves into him, and Hob wraps his arms around him, pulls him close, kisses the curve of his shoulder and watches a bruise disappear in the echo of that touch.

“Just wanted a hug after a rough day, in the end?” Hob says, and Dream huffs again as if such a desire is offending even to imply. He doesn’t move away though.

“Is it that easy for you?” Dream’s face is close enough that his hair brushes Hob’s temple as he speaks.

“And what if it is?” What if Hob had wanted to hug him when he first spoke of his imprisonment, and held back, and still regrets it? And what if it’s so easy to fall into it now? To slip into a world, this world where he can pull Dream into his arms, like he’s wading into the ocean for the first time, into foreign currents powerful beyond imagining but primordially known. Resonant as a familiar dream.

In some sense it would be accurate to say that Hob has known Dream all his life—he is, after all, dreams. But Hob doesn’t think of his friend as dreams. Maybe it’s a limitation of his human mind not to see the endless scale of the picture. But when he thinks of Dream, he doesn’t think of all of life or anything like that.

Instead, he goes back to their meeting in 1689. When Dream had thought he might no longer want to live, and Hob swore he saw a tear nearly break that usually stern countenance. Hob had always been fascinated by him, but he thinks that was the first moment he really saw him, beyond the cloak of distance and fantasy Dream liked to wrap around himself.

He’d like to think that Dream saw him then, too.

That’s the Dream he thinks of. The Dream he’d like to say he knows. The person, not the incomprehensible entity that Dream sees himself as. An incomprehensible entity can take a knife through the chest and dissipate around it like smoke, but not a person.

“If it is,” says Dream, pulling back to properly look at him, “then perhaps I might… impose.”

He looks so… cautiously hopeful. How can he not know already? “You think it’s possible for you to impose?”

“Imposition is easy,” says Dream, quietly. Hob lifts a hand to cup his cheek, and at the same time, as if of the same mind, Dream leans in and fits his face to Hob’s palm, eyes falling shut again.

He looks so gaunt now, with his bruised cheek and shadowed eyes, sharp collarbones and the swooping curves of his ribs. Hob had thought it had gotten better since his imprisonment, but now he’s not so sure. Maybe it’s just that without the shielding of his shirt, and his robe, he looks smaller than Hob’s used to thinking of him, and angular and fragile. He’s still so impossibly beautiful, delicate like a tree glazed in post-storm ice.

It makes Hob feel unexpectedly bold. His heart trips over, but he leans in and kisses the corner of Dream’s mouth.

Dream makes a quiet, surprised sound. Turns his head, blind, seeking, and then their lips connect properly.

When Hob had let himself imagine the possibility of kissing Dream, he had seen a force of nature. His friend would kiss with the chill of the rain that night he’d left Hob standing behind the White Horse. With the encompassing darkness of the night sky. The full experience of him would be overpowering and that was okay, because even a taste of him had already turned the course of Hob’s life.

But this Dream caves. Tips his head back in Hob’s hand, opens his mouth under Hob’s. Stiffness bleeds from him, regality flees him, and what Hob has left in his hands is a soft, horribly bruised thing leaning in for a deeper kiss.

So he kisses Dream deeper. Swipes his tongue into Dream’s mouth. He tastes slightly metallic, like he might have bitten his tongue and bled, were he human, and he makes a soft sound as Hob breaks the kiss for an unfortunate but necessary breath.

He keeps Dream close, hand to his cheek. Dream, eyes still closed, says, “A kiss just to comfort me, Hob?”

It hurts, just a little, that he thinks so. “How about a kiss just because I wanted to kiss you? You really think I’m more selfless than I am.”

Dream chuckles. “I see.”

Finally, he opens his eyes to look at Hob again properly. He looks tentatively happy now, it’s there in the slight crease at the corners of his eyes, the little spark that’s returned to them. Hob’s heart swells to see it, to think that he could do that.

“What then,” says Dream, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip, “would you do… selfishly?”

“Same thing,” says Hob, and kisses him again. Dream hums into it this time, pleased. “And tell you to bring me with you next time you’re asserting your dominance around the galaxy or whatever.”

“Why?”

“There’s some guys I want to throw into walls,” Hob says.

Dream huffs, but Hob thinks he looks secretly pleased. “I am not certain ‘guys’ is an accurate description.”

“You think just because the fifteen-armed thing is a lady that I won’t—”

And Dream actually laughs, a startled choking laugh. “Your definition of chivalry is—” he gathers himself— “appalling.”

“Take it or leave it, Your Majesty,” Hob says, grinning. Nothing feels better than getting a rare laugh out of Dream.

Mirth sparkles in Dream’s eyes. “I will take it,” he says, turning his head to kiss Hob’s palm, “of course. When you offer me haven and defense both, how can I not?”

Hob presses his kissed palm back to Dream’s cheek, over the dark bruise there, watching it start to fade. “Bring me your bruises, darling,” he says, “and I’ll protect you.”

Dream leans back in, and rests his forehead against Hob’s. He doesn’t need to ask for another hug. Hob just wraps his arms around him, and lets Dream’s contented sigh be its own question, and answer, at once.

[moongothic]

The reason I ended that Crocodad AU where he finds Baby Robin-post where I did was because I actually just don't know what would happen next, where things would go from there. Let's talk about that.

Also apologies in advance, this post got obscenely long. Again. I don't know how this keeps on happening.

(If you wanted the minimum context without having to read the whole OG post, just scroll down to the Plot Section and read until the end from there)

But just to give a minor recap: They're in the tombs of Alubarna, Cobra's dead and the second the guards notice their king has gone missing they're going go searching for him. So there's no time to mess around, Crocodile and Robin need to leave as soon as possible before they're discovered, otherwise they'll risk getting reported to the World Government for assasinating Cobra and boy howdy Croc's not going to be a Shichibukai for long if that happens. The two are there to just get what they want. Crocodile wants Pluton. And the Poneglyph says its in Wano Country

What the hell are either of these two going to do? In this scenario?

'Cause on one hand, there's Robin, who could be scared shitless of Crocodile and unsure what to do next.

If Robin tells him, will Crocodile kill her because he doesn't need her anymore? Because he got what he wanted?

Or might he lash out at her and kill her because the weapon isn't in Alabasta as he had assumed?

But if she refuses to tell him, he'll kill her anyways, won't he?

She can't run away from him anyways, he'd catch her in seconds.

Should she lie and give him a fake location nearby in the hopes of creating an opportunity for her to escape?

But even if she managed to escape, she'd be back on the run from the Government all over again, fighting for her life, all alone.

(Minor note but it's worth pointing out that Robin probably wouldn't know about Wano's takeover, she might not know who Kaidou is, let alone what the Yonkou are, or where Wano even is. Like we know it's a bombshell of information, but Robin wouldn't know where on The Scale of Bad News it'd land, and that could also add to her fear of telling the truth)

Like I think those would be the kinds of thoughts that would run through Robin's mind, and even I can't tell what she'd do.

And on the other hook, we have Mr Murderdile. How the fuck would he even react to whatever Robin would do?

I mean I don't think he'd actually kill Robin if she told him the truth about what the Poneglyph says. I do think he would Fucking Furious and deeply hurt if she'd refuse to tell him, if she'd lie or tried to flee, as these would be acts of betrayal and we know Crocodile would not take that well. Would he kill her for betraying him? Possibly? Since he could see her as a threat to his son's life (the priority), I don't fucking know man. That could very much turn into like a "Doflamingo killing Rocinante" moment for Crocodile in this AU.

But what the fuck would he do if he found out Pluton was in Wano?

Mind you, by this point the country would've been freshly taken over by Kaidou, and it's only been 2-5 years since Crocodile would've had his ass kicked by Whitebeard in the New World. Like that trauma would be Quite Fresh in his mind. I don't think Crocodile would be stupid enough to try to go to Wano. It'd be stupid fucking dangerous, and surely he'd know that. And not just in the "he could get killed by Kaidou" kind of way, but because surely Crocodile would realize Kaidou was sitting on top of Pluton as they spoke. Even if he didn't know about it yet, if Kaidou found out about Pluton being directly beneath his gigantic ass, it would be Fucking Bad. And thus going to the island with the only person on the planet who could reveal the exact location of the weapon would be a stupid ass move. (Of course, without the heir of the Kozuki Clan Pluton can't be released and Momo has just been yeeted into the future, so even if they did go they wouldn't be able to open the borders of Wano, but unless the Alabastan Poneglyph explained that then neither Robin or Crocodile would understand that)

So if Crocodile's only goal in life at this moment had been obtaining an Ancient Weapon so he could nuke the World Government and then go be with his son (since nothing in the world could threaten his child anymore and force Crocodile to keep his distance to keep him safe)... And he found out he was far, far too weak to even obtain that weapon... What would Crocodile do? Knowing he wouldn't be able to do what he wanted, that he wouldn't get to be with his son ever again?

(Mind you. There is a whole discussion to be had about whether or not Crocodile was suicidal during Impel Down/Marineford and if his petty revenge against Whitebeard was a borderline suicide mission. Because unironically I think there's like a 40-50% chance that could be the case. And I'm pointing this out because if Crocodile was canonically suicidal after failing to take over Alabasta, how would this scenario in this AU be different? Aside from the obvious time commitment, and the way Crocodile's traumas would be much more fresh at this point compared to canon)

Like. What can he do anymore? What's there left for him to do?

Fall into absolute despair and give up? Allow the royal guards to find and capture him, and let the WG throw him in jail for assassinating King Cobra for no reason? Or just kill himself on the spot because what would it matter, he'd die eventually anyways? God knows, even if he wanted to keep on opposing the WG, between the Dragodile Divorce (and however the fuck that might've played out) and Crocodile probably not approving of Dragon's methods for revolution (too idealistic, soft, and slow), ditching his Warlord-status and fully joining the Revolutionary Army wouldn't suit Crocodile either. He's a pirate, not some hero of justice. And he's never going to be strong enough to defeat the WG himself, all alone. That's what the Ancient Weapon was for to begin with.

So, what would he do now, when his final option had been crossed out, labeled impossible. Would death be the easy way out, and at least give him the peace of mind knowing his son could never be linked back to him and put into danger because of him?

But what would happen to Robin?

If Crocodile allowed himself to become captured and go to jail, Robin would be doomed too. Between his hatred of the Government and Robin being an innocent child, surely he didn't want the Government to get their hands on her, they'd just put her to death. But what else could he do? Tell her to run? Leave her to fend for herself all over again? Alone? Would he have it in him to tell her that?

Or would Crocodile's anger and spite at the Government be more powerful than his despair? Would he rather flee with Robin for now and figure things out later, when they're not in some ancient tombs with the corpse of a king where they could be found out any second and be in far deeper shit than they're already in?

And I think this is where we circle back to what Robin would do, first. Because even if Robin told Crocodile the truth, there's still multiple ways she could do that, and depending on how Robin went about it, that could influence Crocodile's reaction too, couldn't it?

If the two hadn't become too fond of each other yet, and Robin very calmly told Crocodile Pluton was in Wano, I think he could just become kind of catatonic in shock and horror, falling into despair. Maybe without saying a word he'd just walk out of the tombs straight to the guards without ever looking back. Abandoning Robin and leaving her running for her life again, alone.

But Robin is at this point a 12 year old child***

The sheer intensity of this situation could become too much for her. And if she had become fond of Crocodile, if despite everything she still wanted to stay with him because he had been the only source of safety she had had in three years... what if she just burst into tears, and told Crocodile she was afraid of him and what he might do to her because he might not like what the Poneglyph said? What would Crocodile do then? How would Crocodile react to that? To this child being not just brutally honest, but emotionally vulnerable and showing him that she WANTED to trust him? If Crocodile had been emotionally flipflopping between trying to remain emotionally unavailable to Robin because he didn't trust her, and trying to be caring (partially because he was intentionally trying to manipulate her and partially because he genuinely felt bad for her)... Would this become the moment Crocodile himself realizes he has to decide if he's going to be a cruel pirate who only cares about his son's safety, or be Robin's guardian? Either demand her to just spit it out if she knows what's good for her, or comfort her and tell her he would never hurt her regardless of what the Poneglyph said? And... almost regardless of what Crocodile would choose, could Robin's outburst still like... both soften the blow of the bad news and emotionally ground Crocodile? So that he wouldn't fall into despair?

If so... Guess the two would just have to flee then. Leave their hostage (be it the (unconcious???) pregnant queen or baby Vivi) behind, and just leave Alabasta. There'd be nothing left in that country for them anyways, nothing but people who could catch Crocodile and report him to the World Government for assasinating their King (mainly Shaka who could probably tell their king was murdered by a heavy smoker thanks to his DF and then realize it was Crocodile if he ever gotten within sniffing distance from him), leading to his Shichibukai Status to being stripped from him. Escaping and never coming back would be their priority.

Whatever the fuck would happen next is a bloody mystery though

Like IDK maybe, after getting over whatever emotional turmoil he'd be going through, Crocodile could start building an organization of some kind?? But this time with the intent of wrecking Kaidou's ass and taking over Wano himself????? (Roccoco Works wouldn't nececarily have to be a secret organization either since if he wanted to take over a non-WG Affiliated country from some pirate... He could just do that. The WG shouldn't care. He would have to be extremely careful though to make sure nobody ever found out his sweet little assistant/secretary Miss Sunday was actually Nico Robin. Also if he was the Rev Army's Secret Sugar Daddy he'd have to be extremely careful who he would hire to work for him. Like the hiring process would be extremely selective still, if not more-so than with BW?) Also he could spend a fuck ton of time just working out to get as swole as humanly possible. Because god knows he'll need to if he wanted to actually fight Kaidou and survive with all his limbs still in-tact. Maybe try to get friendly with Moria too knowing Moria has some serious beef with Kaidou and could be down for getting revenge one day. But mind you, this would be A Whole Process which would no doubt take years if not decades.

All while looking after Robin. Because he was all she had and he couldn't possibly abandon her now. He's in too deep.

And this is where my brain finally hits a brick wall with this AU, I can't imagine how shit would go down from here on. Because IDK, this whole thing started out more as a thought experiment (of "how would things be different if they met earlier") and the further you go down the timeline it stops being wild what if-speculation and more just a fanfic lmao

***(Look if I'm not wrong, the year Luffy was born Robin should be going 11 turning 12, right? (And Croc 27 -> 28). But if enough time has passed that Vivi has been born, well, Robin's birthday is a few days after Vivi's, so she could've turned 13 by now. Or hell, this whole shitshow of a scenario could take place on her birthday if you wanted to be really evil) (But if I'm wrong and Robin was 10 -> 11 the year Luffy was born, then she'd be around turning 12 at this point) (This shit is so complicated aaaaa 😭)

One more note because I might as well put them in the same post

So in my mind, if Crocodad Real IN GENERAL then it would make perfect sense to me if Crocodile's reason for wanting his funny little military nation and to obtain Pluton was to nuke Marijoa and just delete the World Government so his baby boy would be safe. Because god knows if the Government found out Dragon had a son (or that he had been involved with the Revs/plotted against them and that he had a son), that baby boy would become a target for the WG. Thus he couldn't even take his child with him and raise him like Bege or Big Mom did with their kids. Like it wasn't even an option. And because that's like my default headcanon already, I'm obviously applying it to this silly Crocodad AU.

But it raises a fun question; what would Crocodile tell baby Robin about his motivations?

Like, I can perfectly imagine Crocodile explaining to Robin that he hates the WG and wants to destroy them, and that not only would Robin be safe with him (not just in the "I won't hurt you or turn you in to the Marines, we're on the same side", or the "I'm stronk and can protect you from danger" way, but also "the WG can't find you if you're under my wing" way), but also if she helped him find an Ancient Weapon, she could help him defeat her greatest enemy for once and for all and become free herself.

And that's not a bad deal, now is it.

But even if Crocodile explained that to Robin when they'd first meet, just to get her to agree to coming with him, surely it would take Robin some time to actually start trusting Crocodile, after spending the past three years on the run. 'Cause in her mind, either the Government Approved Pirate was lying to get her guard down (so it'd be easier to hand her over to the WG), or the Government Approved Pirate was explicitly admitting to being a backstabber and couldn't be trusted. But hey Papadile could maybe win her trust with some time, plenty of books and maybe a few plushies

However.

I'm sure Robin would wonder WHY Crocodile wanted to destroy the World Government. And Crocodile sure as fucking hell would never tell her it was because he had a son, god knows he would not trust her with that information. I'm not sure if Robin would ask about Crocodile's motivations, and even if she did, I'm sure he'd find a way to respond in a truthful way without telling her anything (Like arguably he isn't free from the WG either, he can either play and pretend to be on their side until they decide they have no more use for him, or try to eliminate them first and ensure his own safety. So he could tell Robin that as an excuse) (Kill-or-Be-Killed is not a great life lesson to be teaching Nico Robin Age 12) And you know, not knowing why this Scary Pirate wants a weapon of mass destruction would raise alarm bells in anyone's mind. Robin isn't stupid.

And now we circle right back to the begining of this post. Again. This post is a fucking timeloop, there is no escape. What would Robin do when Crocodile would ask her to read him the Poneglyph. Because there is that option that she could try to ask him Crocodile why he wanted to destroy the WG, then and there. Possibly defiantly, possibly calmly, possibly with tears running down her little face because she's scared out of her mind and wants to have faith in her guardian, but is unsure because the situation she's found herself in is a train wreck and Croc's on thin ice. And would she start with the question right away, or would she first tell the truth and then, after seeing Crocodile's reaction, ask him about it? And would Crocodile tell her? The TL:DR; of it? That he had a son whom the WG would want dead if they ever found out about it, a son he wanted to protect? That that's what this all was about?

And how would Robin feel about such a revelation?

Because on one hand, it could be calming for her, to understand that Crocodile wasn't out for world domination like a cartoon villian or anything, that his motivations were actually understandable. He just wanted to protect his family. But on the other hand... if Robin had been (conciously or subconciously) hoping to find a father figure in Crocodile... would finding out that Crocodile had his own son, his own family somewhere out there... Would that knowledge break Robin? Because in her mind, even if she hadn't wished for it conciously, Crocodile could never become a father for her? Because if/when Crocodile would get what he wanted, he'd just go be with his son?

Keep in mind. Robin's core fears and trauma come from not just betrayal, but also abandonment. A fear of being alone. Even if it was for Robin's own sake, her mother left her behind. She wasn't able to find friends or community in Ohara at all, even with the people of the library she felt left out because they wouldn't allow her to participate in the Poneglyph research (understandable on their part) And even when Robin's uncle and his family "adopted" her, she was treated as an other in the family. An unwanted burden, a servant. Not a real member of the family.

Finding out Crocodile had a family he wanted to return to could in her mind mean she was going to become abandoned again, left behind to fend for herself. Even if the WG wasn't out to get her, that would still be absolutely soul crushing for a child. And even if Crocodile did decide to adopt Robin, would she not be afraid of being treated as an other in that family too, because she wasn't his daughter? That he'd never love her the way he'd love his own son?

How would the truth behind Crocodile's motivations actually make Robin feel?

And one final gut punch before I go:

Would Crocodile struggle with some kind of guilt and shame over looking after Robin when he had his son somewhere out there? Would he be beating himself up inside because he couldn't stop himself for caring so damn much about this poor kid, but didn't want to treat Robin like some kind of a replacement for his own child? And would those feelings get even worse after finding out he couldn't even get Pluton because the bloody thing was hiding under Kaidou's ass? Would Crocodile feel horrible about how he had to abandon his son seemingly forever and then found himself looking after some other child instead?

Also. If the Dragodile Divorce was bad, especially in the "Dragon wasn't particularly accepting" kinda way, and if Crocodile had this deep fear inside of him about whether or not his son would ever accept him as his other dad and/or be upset about not having a mom (a fear that could get worse over time since he wouldn't have been with his baby from the begining, that he'd have to show up in his child's life later, praying for acceptance and forgiveness for having to leave him behind)... Would Robin potentially expressing that she saw Crocodile as a father-figure kind of break Crocodile (in a good way)? Not just because of the gender affirmation (for the recently transitioned guy mind you), but also because it'd mean that there was at least one person in the world who looked at him and thought they wanted him as their father? And could that happiness then like ADD ON to whatever guilt Crocodile could also be feeling?

These two are such broken people. I can not help but to wonder if they'd be able to navigate through their complicated emotions and find the healing and comfort they both so desperately need.

Anyway yeah that's the post, hope you enjoyed The Thoughts

[decolonize-the-everything]

You are literally going to get people killed by pushing them to vote third party. People voting third party is why Trump won in 2016, which allowed him to stack the Supreme Court with conservative garbage which is going to negatively affect us for DECADES to come (already has, since it led to the repeal of Roe v. Wade which has LITERALLY killed people). I'm baffled, because you've done so much good work on this website (like I still go back and regularly reread your posts on whiteness etc because they're so informative), but advocating for voting third party going into one of the most important elections in recent memory is actively harmful.

Like have you heard of Project 2025? In case you haven't it's literally like a 1000 page manifesto for the Republican party to reshape the federal government to essentially let the President become a dictator. It also expressly mentions plans to roll back rights for women, the LGBT community, and pretty much any other minority you can think of. I know things are bad now - not arguing that at all - but if Republicans win next year, things will get EXPONENTIALLY WORSE.

You can sit there and yell about Democrats being "just as bad" until you're blue in the face, but it's literally not true. The Democratic Party itself is obviously just another problematic institution and there are definitely Dems who showed their entire asses with supporting Israel, but like... Progressive Democrats do exist and while they're obviously not perfect, it's absolutely a step in the right direction. Not to mention Republicans literally need to cheat by gerrymandering and attacking voting rights for minorities in order to even get elected in a lot of places, whereas Democrats tend to win when more people are registered and actually show up to vote. They are not the same, and the harm they do is not the same.

Again, I have a lot of respect for the work you do, especially with your recent posts on the Palestinian genocide. But I vehemently disagree with your stance on voting third party in this upcoming election. Ideally I would love if we could vote third party and actually have multiple options that more accurately represent us as a population, but our current system is a two party one and unfortunately we literally do have to vote for the lesser of two evils, because one option sucks but preserves what little democracy we have (and gives us a chance of making it better) and one will literally bring genocide against trans people. I would personally rather not see that happen.

How can you say this and mention the Palestinian genocide in the same ask.

Democrats are getting people killed. In fact they're committing one of The worst crime against humanity possible and then only thing you're worried about is that things might get worse for gay people if a Republicans wins.

I'm the biggest queer I know. I'm native. I'm brown. I'm almost definitely on a watch list. And listen to me and understand the depth of my words when I say: my people have been oppressed the way Project2025 outlines.

And maybe you personally cared or helped us protest that. But most people didn't. In fact I can't remember the last time the US supported native rights at all.

But now that YOURE under threat I'm supposed to risk my life because the queer community can't be bothered to stop discoursing about neopronouns long enough to actual give an shit about saving the community?

Y'all got a lot of damn nerve, let me tell you.

Go bark up some other tree cuz this is not the one.

Also I'm not pushing anyone to vote 3rd party. I'm laying out facts. Facts are a Gallup poll says 63% of people would vote 3rd party. Facts are my Tumblr poll says that number is STILL at least 45% on the hellsite.

And since people are interested in voting 3rd party they should know their options. The people who say "I would vote 3rd party but they don't have support" also deserve to see the articles that said 63% of people would join them.

They deserve to know that 3rd parties currently hold a not insignificant amount percentage of support from the two main parties. 20% of votes. When 33% is an even split are good odds. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sorry, blue Fascists, but this country is in fact still a democracy and just because you Want people to vote blue doesn't mean they have to and you feeling they're the best doesn't make you right!

Other people aren't "wrong" for not wanting your conservative Jurassic party in power anymore.

They can vote how they want.

And if you see a poll that says 63% of people would rather NOT vote for either major party and your first thought is not: wow 63% is enough to elect someone we want, I'll support that.

And instead you go: how can I force them to vote for my party instead.

Then please understand it is not THEM splitting the vote. Biden will get MAYBE 40% votes. You gonna force 63% of the country to vote for someone they don't even want?

There's a name for that yeah?

How'd it work out in 2016 when y'all "forced" us to vote for Hillary by putting her on the ballot? She lost and she wasn't even actively commiting a genocide.

But you think Biden will not only earn votes from that 63% but he'll also win the election. Against trump. Which less blatantly shitty democrats have struggled to contend with?

Democrats are legitimately delusional.

Your problem is you see Democrats as being better than Republicans. While the rest of us see less and less of a difference every year. And you can only say you're "better" if you're different enough.

See this is what happens when you vote for the "lesser evil." Eventually that evil balances back out and you're left with the truth that your two main options are just evil.

Now the only people actually different enough to make that argument are third parties.

Coincidentally, that's what people are drawn to right now.

I know, go figure. It's almost like it makes sense to lose support when you consistently prop up shitty candidates nobody asked for every 4 years.

We do not have a two party system and you know that, that's why you sent this ask.

Cuz you're stressed dems might lose. Cuz you KNOW people have other options.

Good. Cuz they will lose if Biden is the democrat's nominee and Claudia de la Cruz stays in the race, which she will since she's running with PSL not democrats. So there's no competition. Her party is organized and chosen her and a VP already, she's guaranteed every one of their votes because her party works like a union does.

It's a wrap.

Biden can't use his "lesser evil" script with Claudia De La Cruz on the ballot actively challenging his genocide and imperialism.

Vote Claudia De La Cruz cuz you are a scooping water out of the Titanic trying to get 63% of Americans to think voting for a Genocidal warmonger is what's best for any of us, let alone the planet. And we didn't want him BEFORE he did any of this.

[the-incorrigible-chaia]

[alt id]Two pages from the pamphlet "The Past Didn't Go Anywhere" by April Rosenblum, that read as follows:

it was a good try, but time to rethink.

on targeting “zionism”

A lot of activists work to avoid anti-Jewish oppression, and to make a distinction between Jewish people and Israeli misdeeds, by targeting their comments at "Zionists," not Jews, and "Zionism," not Judaism or Jewish culture. Unfortunately, this shortcut doesn't work.

First, it backfires because major, organized antisemitic movements also use the term, for the opposite purpose: to spread anti-Jewish ideology without looking so bad. That's why 2005's international conference, "Zionism As the Biggest Threat to Modern Civilization" was co-chaired by neo-nazi politician David Duke. For many antisemitic groups, “Zionists” are the demonic Jews controlling the world, Protocol-style; and “Zionism” is the general body of evildoing by Jews. Because we activists are only suspicious of Jew-bashing, not attacks on “Zionists,” their antisemitic imagery makes its way right into our circles. Second, because it replaces one one-dimensional image of a 'bad guy' with another. It bypasses the actual work of avoiding anti-Jewish oppression: reshaping how we think and talk about Jews and Israelis to see them as 3-dimensional human beings, capable of wrongdoing like any others. Finally, using the term "Zionists" doesn't protect Jews. It just makes people who bomb Jewish schools, synagogues, etc., call the people they're killing Zionists.

Principled anti-Zionism has little to do with the fake "Zionism" that antisemites like Duke attack. There are many rational reasons why some people are opposed to the philosophy that there should be a Jewish state, just as lots of rational reasons motivate others to believe a Jewish state is neccessary.*

There's no shame in thinking critically toward Zionism. But in a world of unresolved antisemitism, there's also no getting out of fighting this oppression head on.

*For instance: An anti-Zionist might rationally oppose Zionists' having consciously established a state where they did, knowing that this would lead to dispossessing the Palestinian people. A Zionist might observe that Jews' vulnerability was linked to being a permanently small minority and support Jews having one place where they are the governing majority.

innoculate your Palestine work against antisemitism

If you're white, understand: When you take no action to stop anti-Jewish patterns in our movements, you set Palestinians, Arabs and Muslims up to take the fall. Though historic Left mistreatment of Jews has largely been a legacy of white, European/American movements, Arabs and Muslims are the ones who today get publicly scapegoated for charges of Left antisemitism. Don't let them pay the price. Take the struggle on.

Beware of saying Israel is the only country doing anything, or the worst case of any given injustice; it’s often not true, and it gets used to justify global violence against Jews. Know and speak about countries guilty of similar offenses. This not only guard against danger to Jews; it brings a global perspective that strengthen the fights of all peoples, even while we focus on Palestinians.

Be specific about the injustice you're talking about. For instance, don’t jump into generalizations like “Israelis are like Nazis.” Focus on the original thought that led there; ie, “Israeli policies like [blank] treat Palestinians as if they’re not human.”

Remember that, as with every oppression, it’s possible to spread antisemitic ideas without necessarily harboring any ill will toward Jews. Stay open to re-evaluating tactics, even though you know your intentions are positive and just.

Don't casually use one-dimensional, charicatured portrayals of cruel Israelis. Rather than sensationalizing Israelis, and compounding anti-Jewish oppression in a world that already paints Jews as evil, help people see Palestinians: real people, suffering daily injustice, both mundane and extreme, and deserving of global attention.

At the center of Palestinians’ struggle for freedom and human dignity is their human and legal Right to Return to their land. But there are real reasons why Jews around the world fear losing majority control of Israel. (See p. 25.) If you fight for the Right to Return, understand the implications it could have for Jews in a world where anti-Jewish oppression has not been solved. Consider what role you can play in bringing about global safety for Jewish people.

If people use opposition to the term 'antisemitism' to shut down discussion, by all means, speak of anti-Jewish oppression. But speak of it. Don't let fellow activists silence conversation about antisemitism by complaining that the word is wrong, and blaming Jews for the problem. (See page 6.)

Above all, remember:

Taking care to resist antisemitism is not about walking on eggshells or acquiescing to pressure. It's about making a greater commitment to refusing to take part in oppression - and building movements that can win.

[end id]

[eiloveir]

→﹐naruto hc! <3

‹𝟹 :: ⭑⭒  🗨 !!  naruto characters and their social media habits

warnings: rushed and out-of-character

note: this is just something I decided to create on a whim, though I was inspired by a post on a clock app. i imagined how these characters might use social media, so here it is.

characters: konoha 12

𓋭  ۫   ☔️ ﹒ ❊  ͚

uzumaki naruto

this guy’s the reigning king of shitposting. he’s got a knack for calling out anything he deems “overrated,” and he doesn’t hold back. his feed is a never-ending stream of complaints about everything from minor inconveniences to full-blown disasters. you might see posts about how his ramen was too hot or things like pineapple on pizza. he’s the kind of troll who wouldn’t hesitate to pick a fight with kids on roblox, turning every argument into a battle that leaves them in tears and scrambling to save face (konohamaru). he would also be the type to start internet beefs over the most mundane things. if you’re ever scrolling through your feed and see a heated argument about why a certain trend is lame, chances are he is behind it.

haruno sakura

the feminist and activist extraordinaire! she’s the type of woman who not only supports human rights in every way possible but also cheers on the LGBTQ+ community with gusto—because, spoiler alert, she’s part of it. she’s someone who’s fully aware of the impact social media can have and is determined to use it to amplify her voice and make a real difference. i also think she has multiple social media accounts like a pro—there’s her private twitter account where she rants about how messed up the government is, her ao3 account where she writes fan fiction with a side of social commentary, and of course, her tumblr where she’s a curator of memes, political discourse, and everything in between. (me)

uchiha sasuke

god, bruh. this dude is basically a social media ghost—he hardly ever posts anything, but when he does, it’s like the internet has just won the lottery. he’s that guy who seems to do absolutely nothing yet somehow manages to grab everyone’s attention. he’s not really into posting on social media, but when he does, it’s always so aesthetically pleasing that you’d think he has a personal stylist and a professional photographer on speed dial. he doesn’t even try to make his posts look good; he just rolls out of bed and somehow manages to be effortlessly cool. man could post a picture of his breakfast and it would still get more likes than your entire feed.

nara shikamaru

this lazy ass (me) would probably end up being a streamer, posting about his win streaks and achievements in every game he plays. despite barely lifting a finger to do anything else, he’d be all over social media, bragging about every victory and high score. he’s the kind of guy who’d stream his gaming marathons from the comfort of his bed, racking up followers while casually lounging around in sweatpants. If there’s a leaderboard, you can bet he’s at the top, and he’s not shy about letting everyone know it.

yamanaka ino

girlie is the famous influencer! she’s always buzzing with posts about the latest fashion trends, beauty tips, and social events. like, you know, the kind of Instagram girlie who’s always flaunting her ootd and setting style standards. she’s practically a fashion icon with every outfit she wears. she’s also the type to post inspirational messages like “wear whatever makes you feel good” or “your body, your choice.” she’s incredibly popular across all her social media platforms and has a tiktok account—she’s all about those thirst traps and dance covers.

akimichi choji

my boi would definitely be the type to either watch mukbangs obsessively or become a mukbanger himself. he’d spend hours trying to replicate recipes he’s seen online, turning his kitchen into a culinary experiment zone. and you can bet he’d be posting all about it—sharing his attempts, successes, and occasional fails. his feed would be full of mouthwatering food shots and videos of him devouring his creations, proving that he’s just as passionate about cooking and eating as he is about sharing it with the world.

tenten

she’d regularly post about her daily life, giving followers an inside look at her studies or work. her feed would be filled with a lot of photos showcasing her favorite books, snapshots of her workout routines, and candid moments with her for lifers. she’s all about fitness, making her social media a hub for health tips and personal growth. you’d see her posting everything from meal prep ideas to gym selfies. she’d be the type to inspire others with her discipline and positivity.

rock lee

lee would be the type to flood his feed with gym and fitness content, sharing everything from his daily workout routines to personal fitness goals. his posts would be packed with enthusiasm and motivational messages, like “don’t judge a person because of their appearance” and other self-improvement quotes. despite his positive energy, not everyone’s a fan—especially naruto and kiba, who might be more inclined to roll their eyes and make a shitty rant about his optimism.

hyuga neji

this dude, much like sasuke, is totally indifferent to social media. he doesn’t bother with frequent posts but when he does, they’re thoughtful and deliberate. you might see him sharing reflections on life, articles he’s stumbled upon, or insightful news about everyday occurrences. he avoids jumping into pointless online drama or trends, yet somehow, he’s always clued in. that’s thanks to lee and tenten, who can’t stop talking about the latest gossip and social media happenings. despite his apparent disinterest, he picks up on all the chatter and remains surprisingly well-informed about the buzz. so, even though he’s a low-key user, he’s never completely out of the loop.

inuzuka kiba

his socials would be about random rants and memes. he’d post exaggerated complaints about the most trivial matters. his feed would be a fucking mess of humorous and offbeat content—think sarcastic comments, goofy polls, and plenty of memes featuring akamaru. he’d frequently stir up controversies, posting impulsively and diving headfirst into debates. his online presence would be a whirlwind of arguments, especially with naruto, where they often argue over who’s the dumbest between them.

hyuga hinata

she’s the type to be a crocheter, the kind you see on tiktok with an account just for her yarn creations. her feed would be packed with posts showcasing her latest crocheting projects—everything from cozy blankets and stylish scarves to adorable amigurumi (crocheted plush toys). she’d share detailed photos and videos of her work. her account would also feature tutorials and tips for fellow crocheters, helping them improve their skills. she might post about her extensive yarn collection, offer free patterns, and give followers a peek into her crafting process. whether she’s showing off her latest masterpiece or sharing a behind-the-scenes look at her studio, her feed would be a inspiring hub for all things crochet.

aburame shino

the random entomologist on your feed. he would be all about his shit for insects and the natural world. his posts would feature photos of various bugs, often accompanied by educational captions about their behavior, ecology, and characteristics. his feed would include updates from his fieldwork, observations on insect behavior, and informative posts about conservation efforts. while he might occasionally share glimpses of his other interests or hobbies, the focus would remain firmly on nature and entomology. whether he’s showcasing a rare beetle he’s spotted or sharing insights on preserving insect habitats, his content would be a treasure trove of knowledge for fellow nature enthusiasts.

[lloydssluts]

Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge

Welcome to the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge, hosted by the Lloyd Hansen server.

About 2 years ago, we got our first taste of Lloyd Hansen through Netflix’s trailers. From then on, we were hooked. To celebrate this anniversary, we invite writers to join our challenge and create their own Lloyd Hansen fics!

This challenge is 18+ ONLY. Minors are not allowed to engage in any way, shape, or form. It is open to everyone—not just members of our server, although we encourage you to join us if you haven’t already.

All fics will be about Lloyd Hansen. We do not allow incest (stepcest is permitted), underage, or scat play. Fics should be reader inserts* and as inclusive as possible. Any genre (dark, smut, angst, fluff) is allowed. *For any other specifications or adjustments, reach out to one of the mods or send an ask. This is not a strict requirement.

There is no word count requirement. However, you must use a “read more” break, no matter the length. Use appropriate warnings.

The deadline for the challenge is July 22nd, 2024. This is not a strict deadline at all!

You will choose a dialogue that the character has said in the film and transform it from the original context. Certain prompts are open to changing as long as you note that somewhere. Once you’ve chosen a prompt and sent us an ask with it, it will be crossed off from the list. Prompts are on a first-come, first-serve basis! You can select up to 5 prompts.

Need feedback or advice? Feel free to message either one of the mods (@hansensgirl or @cuttlefjsh), or visit our server to discuss your fic with other members.

TAG YOUR FICS WITH THE TAG #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24

Happy writing!

Asterisks + ‘[…]’ indicates a prompt is open for change.

Should we try again?

Boring.

“Mostly, it’s loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” That’s Arthur Schopenhauer. He was a German philosopher, a pessimist. He saw the value in suffering.

Damn it. Phones on silent when I’m working, please.

Still just flirting. But… [...] getting there. *

Well, no one goes to Harvard to play football.

I like to be the exception. What’s up?

Gimme a name.

Could be fun.

Well, I’m gonna need a full green light on this one. Open checkbook.

I’d rather you punch me in the dick.

We’ll find somebody [...] loves and squeeze. *

Have I ever done you wrong, [...]? *

Professionally maybe. Lloyd Hansen, Hansen Government Services.

Aw, does it? Good.

You know my work. That’ll make this next part a lot easier.

You know what makes me sad, [...]? *

Five and a half.

Who likes cats?

Let’s talk about the mess your [...] made. *

Oh, [...] made a big one. And judging by your shallow breathing and puckered asshole*, I can only assume you know why I’m here.

But see, that’s the beauty of the private sector. I don’t care about reasons.

My guess is you’re helping [...] already. So this shouldn’t put too much of a dent in your day. *

But your file, well, that’s chock-full of nuggets, some of which might make you rethink your fussy attitude.

You gonna answer it?

Hey, sunshine. Lloyd Hansen here. I’m the one running this op.

The one where I get exactly what I want.

Okay, that’s fair. Well, why don’t you come on in, and we can chat? My assistant will get lunch. You like sushi?

Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Looks like you need a new phone.

Don’t say “preternatural” to me. It’s an asshole word.

And that, [...], is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you. *

I can kill anybody.

Well, we’ll see.

We need to ground in *Vienna.

How do you feel about your license?

Who’s up for some *Tafelspitz?

Hey, sunshine.

What gave it away?

Ballsy.

Nice try, pumpkin.

What size shoe are you?

Can someone get me a Vicodin, please?

On the run, scared shit less.

You know all those rules you guys are always trying to work your way around? They don’t mean dick to me.

Shut up and go sit in the corner.

Oh. How about that?

Forget about the Vicodin.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Goldilocks, would you be a lamb and excuse us?

Shhh. Please.

Now, whatever I just did to your *ears, it’s not even torture. I just made it up on the spot. Just came to me. And that’s how this is gonna go.

Should we try again?

Maybe we should get the *girl back in here.

Well, that was unexpected.

Make him dead.

My God, how hard is it to shoot somebody?

What I do can’t be taught.

You know what I love about you?

Yahtzee.

No, success qualifies as success.

You wanna make an omelette, you gotta *kill some people.

You know, in English, we call this a *happy ending. However, if you say one more word, you may not see it that way.

Lock everything down.

Get me eyes on the bridge.

You’re making me destroy a historic building here!

Wait! Please don’t shoot! Look what you did to my hand.

Give me that, you little shit.

Now you pick those feet up, or you’re gonna get dead real quick.

Now, listen. You shut up, and you don’t move.

Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake.

What do you say we wrap this up?

I mean, I’m having a blast, but it’s way past the kid’s bedtime, don’t you think?

You’re gonna throw me that gun, or the little one gets a new face. *

It’s really a shame this isn’t gonna work out between us.

Now normally, at this point in the night, I wouldn’t be sticking around.

With the house lights about to come on, I’d find a desperate, ugly chick to lick my wounds and split, but you have been a pebble in my shoe since the very beginning.

And now I just don’t think I can walk away.

Guess what I’m thinking right now.

I think I’m better than you.

Still getting used to it.

Let’s see if these moves fuck.

[sweetprfct]

Cruel Summer

Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aaron Warner have been secretly seeing each other since the beginning of Spring. The problem is that your parents are part of Omega Point, the rebel group of The Reestablishment. While Aaron’s father runs The Reestablishment along with other leaders from other continent. From secret meetings to I love yous, you start questioning if all of this is worth taking the risk.

Author's Note: Hello, here's my first Aaron series. First off, I ctrl+delete Juliette in this AU. Second, Aaron is in his late twenties in this story and so is the reader. I try to make everything as accurate as possible but it has been a while since I read the first three books for the series, so I might forget certain details. Anyway, comments are welcome! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was raining.

It was always raining these days. If not, the sky was dark and gloomy. You didn’t know how long since the last time you saw the sun. Since The Reestablishment had taken over and wars had broken out all around the world, the sky was just blanketed by dark gray skies. You remembered your childhood and how the world was back then. Sunny skies, pink sunsets, children on the playground. You would hear the ice cream truck around the neighborhood during summer. You remember spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. 

Autumn and Winter. 

Now, it was just cold, gloomy and rainy most days. The weather was pretty much unpredictable. Broken buildings, fires breaking out, civilians lost around the streets outside or getting shot if they didn’t follow The Reestablishment’s rules. You have seen the brutal things the government had done to those civilians, and it hurts to see them suffer and it hurts even more knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents had warned you to stay away from trouble. To always stay alert because you never know what The Reestablishment would do next.

Your parents were part of a secret organization called Omega Point. They ran it along with their friend Castle. The group took in people who have some sort of supernatural abilities and aimed to destroy The Reestablishment. You, however, didn’t have any special abilities. You were only part of the group because of your parents. 

Castle was always alert, and he seemed to know more than what he led on. You couldn’t help but wonder if your parents also knew more than what they usually would tell you. You were always good at spying and sneaking out. That was your talent and most of the time, you were always successful in your own little personal agendas. Your parents knew that too. So, you figured they wouldn’t lie to you, knowing that you would eventually find out anyway. 

There was that one time that your parents had caught you sneaking out of the Omega Point base back in the Spring. They were furious over it that you were stuck for two weeks in your room because they didn’t want you going anywhere. You didn’t care though because you had an interesting time that night. You had sneaked out and pretended that you were part of the little gathering of The Reestablishment’s leaders. You were always so curious as to what they did. Curious how great their life must be in that part of Sector 45. 

And you were right. 

Because you saw everything. They had everything they wanted as if the world didn’t burn down and everyone was living in this hell. Most civilians could barely find any food to feed themselves and here they were living like Kings and Queens. 

“Are you lost?” 

His voice made you jump. You were at the back of the building, looking through the window and trying to see what was happening inside. You never had anyone caught you before. Ever. Not even your parents when you were spying or sneaking out and here he was, standing over you. As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was staring at you with some sort of curiosity. Some trespasser, he probably thought. You were, but that didn’t matter because you were supposed to act like you were part of this gathering. He was in uniform and on his uniform it said, “Sector 45 CCR, A. Warner.” Your eyes shifted at the name, and you knew then that you had to make up some excuse to convince him that you belong in this little gathering. 

“Um… no.” You shook your head, straightening your clothes. “Just trying to get some air.” 

His emerald eyes studied you as you stood there with your back straight, acting like there was confidence radiating out of you. However, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was running a million miles per hour, and you were terrified that he would be able to hear it. He furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder to see the dark clouds blanketing the city. You knew he was wondering what you meant by that because it had been a while since the world had an actual fresh air. It made you even terrified that he probably realized that you weren’t part of this little party. 

“Hm…” His eyes studied you from top to bottom. “Which continent are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”

Your heart was gone. You couldn’t feel it anymore as you tried to make up some excuse but thankfully, he was called by another soldier from a distance. You immediately hid behind the post, so you wouldn’t be seen and just like that, he walked away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched him enter the building with the soldier. 

Sneaking inside the building, you made sure everyone else was busy and made your way up the stairs. You didn’t bother taking the elevator since you might bump into some more people and then, you were met with a long hallway, bright fluorescent lights illuminating it.

It made you feel like you were in a hospital.

Walking down the hall, you found the Supreme Commander’s office. The name Anderson was on the door and quietly, you turned the knob and peered your head behind the door. It was empty and dark. You looked around the office and went around the desk to find some sort of evidence to prove that The Reestablishment was doing something wrong. 

Something that could help Omega Point take down The Reestablishment once and for all.

Letting out a sigh, you pulled one of the drawers, but it was locked. All of them needed a key. Looking through all the files on his desk, you couldn’t find anything interesting nor the key to open up one of the drawers. You figured maybe he kept it safe with him. Hearing footsteps coming from down the hall, you walked out of the office and rapidly walked back to the fire escape staircase only to be met with the same man again.

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “What are you doing here?”

You sighed, “Can’t find the bathroom. Where is it?”

He turned his head to the side and gave you a side eye before walking back down the stairs and led you down onto another long hallway. 

“Thanks.” You murmured and entered the restroom. 

You waited a few minutes until you saw the shadow of his footsteps disappear. Unlocking the door, you looked both ways before finding the exit and out the back of the building again. You quietly hid from the soldiers that were on the lookout until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and you were pulled into a dark alley. 

Your fight and flight mode immediately turned on as you struggled in the person’s grip. You tried to reach for your knife in your back pocket, but the person was pulling you in their arms too quickly. Using your elbow, you jabbed the person right on their stomach as they groaned softly from the pain. You told your legs to start running as fast as you could, but you felt their hand grab your wrist and immediately, all you felt was the stinging pain on your back by the brick wall.

The light from the post illuminated his face, and you saw that it was the same man you met earlier. He pinned you against the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth, and his green eyes were wide. He quietly held up his index finger in front of his lips to let you know to be quiet as you both heard footsteps from a soldier from a distance.

He pulled you away from the light and hid you from the dark corner until the soldier had disappeared.

“Who are you?!” You whispered, anger in your voice. “Why do you keep following me?!”

An amused soft laugh escaped from him as his face leaned closer to yours. 

“I should be asking you that, love.” He whispered. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking around the building?”

You swallowed every emotion that was washing over you right now. Your heart was beating a thousand miles as you stared into his eyes. They were icy pale green. His features were sharp, and he looked sort of beautiful. Almost unreal.

“You could answer me or I could get one of the soldiers to throw you out or worse.” He added, his voice was cold and stern, his spare hand finding his gun on his holster. 

Your eyes followed where his hand was, and you kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t risk putting your parents and all your friends in danger because of one mistake that you made. Maybe you should have listened to your parents. Maybe you should have stayed back in the base and all of this wouldn’t have happened. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes studied you and his brows furrowed.

“I’m a nobody.” You finally replied, your voice stuttering. “J..Just lost.”

His eyes kept studying you until he took a step back and finally let go of you. You exhaled a sharp breath and looked at him for a moment. He looked distressed. He looked lonely. You didn’t really understand how you knew that, but you could see it in his eyes. 

“Go before someone sees you.” He said, his head hung low. 

You were ready to run because you should be, right? So, how come your legs weren’t moving? How come you couldn’t bear to leave him like that? 

“Y… You’re just gonna let me go?” You asked. 

He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours. It made your heart beat faster again as he said, “Be glad I’m irritated tonight. I don’t have the energy to take you into a prison cell or kill you and make a whole scene.”

Taking a few steps back, you looked over your shoulder one more time before running off. That was when you were met with your parents when you arrived back at the base. They were furious. Asking you a bunch of different questions as to where you were and how dare you leave the base without letting anyone know. Your best friend, Kenji, was standing behind them. A disappointed look in his eyes as they sent you to your room and told you that you were going to be watched for the next two weeks to make sure you weren’t going to make any more reckless decisions.

Then, after two weeks passed, you found yourself outside the Omega Point base. You were walking near the water, your thoughts pinwheeling and wondering how long were you all going to hide? You kept asking if this was how the world was going to be until you died. Kept wondering how much more damage The Reestablishment would do until everything would fall apart even more. Wondering what else they did underneath all those metal tall buildings. What decisions and plans were they planning? 

Then, you felt that familiar touch grab you by the wrist. You let out a small shriek as you were pulled in the nearby forest—at least what was left of it—

“You.” Your eyes widened. 

You looked around for soldiers but there was no sign of them. You had told Kenji what happened that night. You described the soldier as someone who looked unreal, beautiful and part of you thought you were dreaming that night. 

“I don’t know, maybe there’s something in the air at their base.” You lightly teased. 

“You said his uniform said CCR A. Warner?” Kenji’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, why?”

You saw the worry that washed over Kenji’s face as he said, “That’s Anderson’s son. Warner is the most brutal and heartless Chief Commander in Sector 45. Jesus Christ, Princess!” 

Anderson’s son? You knew about him, but you hadn't realized it was him, especially with the fact that his name was Warner, not Anderson.

“Brutal and heartless?” You tilted your head. “Then… Then why’d he let me go that easily?”

“I don’t know but there’s something wrong about it. You need to be more careful! You don't know his agenda, and you might end up dead next time.”

Warner. 

Kenji’s words echoed in your head as you shook your wrist from his grip. You didn’t know what it was but there was something in his eyes today. Some concern he was feeling. If he was so heartless like Kenji said then why could you see the human inside him? 

The son of the Supreme Commander of Sector 45. Warner was the Chief Commander and Regent. The man that the soldiers were afraid of because of how cold he was. He could kill someone in a heartbeat and not have an emotion over it. How much of a robot he was as Kenji told you. You still couldn’t understand why he let you go unharmed. How he didn’t kill you for spying. You didn’t understand one bit of it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice was low and ice cold. “Are you here to kill me? If so, just do it now—”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes stared at the ground. “I know who you are.” 

He took your hand and dragged you further in the forest until you both saw the lake. He dropped your hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in front of you. He whispered your name, and you wondered how he knew that. Although, knowing that he was the son of the Supreme Commander, you realized they probably kept files of everyone. 

“You’re part of Omega Point.” He stated, his tracks stopped and he stood in front of you. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If he knew about you, then he probably would have known all the members of Omega Point. Kenji, Castle, you… your parents. 

Maybe you knew nothing of this world after all. Knew nothing about what The Reestablishment did nor what Castle and your parents knew about the new world. 

“H…How did you—” You shook your head.

“Doesn’t matter.” He took a step closer. “My father…” He took a deep breath. “I think…he’s killing… children. Killing certain people.”

You didn’t say a word. That revelation was a shock to you, but you knew there was something going on. You knew it was more than just taking over the world. More than just building up a new world, new rules and destroying every bit of history from the past. 

“That was why you were there, weren’t you?” Warner asked, his voice was stern. “You knew about this?”

“No.” You said. “I… I knew there’s something more going on. I was there to find evidence, but I wasn’t able to.”

“Well, I did.” Warner replied, his head shaking. “I think…”

“I…I’m sorry.” That was all you could manage.

You didn’t exactly understand why he was here. Why was he telling you all of this? What did he want from you? Why did he risk coming out here to talk to you? 

“I’m not.” He said. “I knew my father was vile… A psychopath.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to help take him down.” His green eyes went dark as it met yours. “I want to kill him.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as he took another step forward towards you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Warner looked up and stared at something behind you. 

“Meet me in that cabin at night.” He murmured. “I will look for more information and evidence that could help.”

You followed his eyes and saw the cabin just not too far. It was behind the tall redwood trees. This forest was the only thing left of this broken world, and you didn’t even realize there was a cabin right there. It was too hidden. 

“But—” 

But before you could say anything Warner had already left. You were left in the middle of the woods with your thoughts again. In the beginning, you were terrified to actually go through and believe what Warner said. You didn’t know him and he was part of The Reestablishment. How would you know that you could trust him? How do you know that he wasn’t playing a double agent? 

When you had sneaked out that night to the cabin, you brought yourself a few weapons in your pocket just in case you needed them. You couldn't bear to let Kenji know what you were doing. At least until you were sure about all of this.

Looking around the forest, you saw no sign of other soldiers, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just hiding. Entering the cabin quietly, you found Warner sitting by the fireplace. He had documents laid out all over the coffee table and wooden floors. You closed the door behind you and studied the image in front of you. For a moment, you slowly started to believe what he told you. He did brought the evidence. He brought every document he could find in his father’s office. 

“What are these?” You asked, settling yourself on the floor next to him.

You couldn’t help but notice that he was in his suit. Did this man ever wore anything else other than his uniform and suits? Your eyes then studied his blond hair, his long golden lashes and his eyes that were focused on the papers in front of him.

“Records of the children that mysteriously disappeared.” He said, gazing up at you. “But there was no evidence why they disappeared.” 

He gazed up at you, green eyes staring into yours. It was almost enchanting that you had to look away and focus your attention on the papers in front of you. Both of you spent the night looking through the documents, but you both couldn’t seem to find anything. They were all just records saying that they either died from an accident or they disappeared out of nowhere. No hard evidence at all.

Then, another night came and another and another. Kenji started noticing your late night routine until you finally told him the truth.

“Are you insane?!” He whisper-yelled in the middle of the hall. “This is not a good idea, Princess.”

“Just please trust me?” You pleaded. “Just please cover for me if my parents or Castle look for me.”

“Nuh uh!” Kenji shook his head. “I’m not going to agree with your little suicidal plan with Warner.”

“Kenji, he could be the key to finding all these records. I’ve seen it. Please just give us more time.”

Kenji stared at you for a moment before exhaling a sharp breath and said, “I hope you realized who you are talking to every night in that secluded cabin.”

A smile creeped up on your face as you pulled your best friend into a hug and thanked him. Then, a week of meeting with Warner had become two weeks then one month. Then, two months until Spring ended and Summer finally came. Not that it mattered since the weather stayed the same. It was rainy, dark and gloomy. 

The more you spent with Warner, the more you saw a different side of him. His walls were slowly unraveling in front of you, but it wasn’t to the point where you knew his personal secrets. His personal life. You have never seen him smile, he was always so serious. But he had told you about his father and how his mother died. That was the closest personal thing you have known about him.

It was awful.

His father tortured her and gave her drugs until she turned into almost like a wild animal. Warner mentioned how his mother’s ability was that no one could touch her, but her power was so strong that she could feel the pain of her own skin and suffered until she died from it. You were slowly understanding why he hated his father and why he was rebelling against him.

At least you thought you understood all of it until that one night… 

“Here.” He handed you a box.. 

“What is this?” You furrowed your brows and opened up the box.

Inside, there was wrapping paper and once you had ripped it open, you found a green dress, almost the same color as his eyes. You held up the dress in front of you and then stared at him, confused.

“What is this for?” You asked.

“You don’t like it?” He grabbed the dress from your hands. “I’ll change it. I don’t know your favorite color.”

He couldn’t even look at you. He was staring at the dress in his hands and then, you realized something. The dress was the most obvious one out of all the things he brought every time you met up with him. It was food at the beginning. Then, a nice blanket. Told you that it gets cold at night in the cabin, and it annoyed him to see you shivering all night. Then, you found some fancy soaps in the bathroom, which you never understood because you never took a shower in the cabin. Then, the cabin was slowly being decorated nicely. You thought maybe he was trying to make it a lot cozier. 

But no.

He was doing all of this for you. He was giving you gifts, but why? 

“No,” you took the dress back from his hands. “I like it. Thanks.”

You studied the dress in your hands for a moment then, you felt his presence in front of you. Suddenly, you felt the air between the two of you shift. His fingers found a strand of hair from your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You gazed up at him through your lashes and found his face inches from yours.

You couldn’t breathe. 

His fingers brushed gently against your cheek, and a small gasp escaped your lips. He never touched you. He was always distant even when he was sitting next to you. It was almost like there was a wall between the two of you but the moment you felt his touch, all of a sudden, you saw that wall crack. 

“You’d look beautiful in that dress.” He whispered.

The air in your lungs suddenly gave out. The wall he had put up between the two of you had split open. 

“Warner, I… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your words stuttered, you could barely find your voice.

His hands then cupped your face as his green eyes were staring deep into yours. His eyes sparkled, and you were a glass almost breaking into pieces. His touch was the only thing that was keeping you glued together for a moment. He held your face like you were something so delicate that he was afraid he'd break you if he wasn’t careful.

“Do you know how much it’s killing me that I can’t hold you?” He murmured. “How much it’s killing me that I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day?”

“Y…You can’t stop thinking about me?” 

His thumb traced the outline of your lips before his nose grazed against yours. You held your breath as you closed your eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off your body and all of a sudden, you couldn’t think straight anymore. 

“I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, these lips…” his thumb softly touched your lips, almost like a feather-like touch. “...your voice—god, your voice.”

His hand slipped at the back of your head before he said, “I don’t want to scare you away.”

Your breath hitched, “You’re not.”

His sharp features were right in front of you, and his eyes studied each detail of you. You forgot what it was like to breathe. Time has stopped. Time froze the moment he pressed his lips against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted so sweet. He tasted like peppermint. He kissed you hungrily and desperately like he has been waiting for this for a long time. He pulled you close and pressed your body against his. Your hands slid on his chest, and you could feel his chest heaving as he let his lips trailed down your jawline and down your neck.

You were gone.

You didn’t know how you were still alive because you had stopped breathing a long time ago. His kisses sent shivers down your body. It was something you never experienced before. Never felt before. It was so soft and at the same time, it was something so special. A luxury that you never tasted before. 

Warner scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed. For a moment, he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were breathless, and his fingers were caressing your face softly.

“I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He whispered. 

You gazed up at him, breathless. “Then, kiss me again.” You murmured before pulling him close to you again. 

His lips kissed down your neck and down to your collarbone as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here anymore. His lips trailed down to your chest, and his hand gripped your hips as you ran your fingers through his hair. A jar of butterflies exploded in your stomach and fluttered all over your body. 

“Warner.” You whispered.

“Yes, love?” He gazed up at you. 

“Are… Are you sure about this?” 

Your heart was drumming hard in your chest and you swore, he could hear it. There was nothing more you wanted than this, but you knew how complicated the situation was. You didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. You didn’t want to wake up and find out that he regretted it. Most of all, you wanted to trust him. Believe him that this was real. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this, love.” He said. “You’re consuming every part of my soul, and I can’t explain why.”

You slid your hand behind his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. Your heart was pounding hard, and you felt the world stopped around you. 

It was just you and him. 

You fumbled through the buttons of his shirt and immediately slid it over his broad shoulders. Pulling away from the kiss, you gazed down at his body, your fingers ran down his bare skin and you heard a breathless gasp escape his lips. Your fingers ran through the hills and curves of his muscles on his stomach. Then, you saw his tattoo that sits right on the bottom of his torso. Just below his hip bone. 

Hell is empty and all the devils are here. 

Your fingers grazed over the words, and you saw Warner’s chest went up and down as you continued to touch him.

“So… beautiful.” You whispered. 

However, you didn’t know what happened or what you said to him because you saw something shifted inside him. His eyes had gone dimmed and he immediately pulled away from you. You furrowed your brows and questions started running in your mind.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I…” He shook his head. 

You were confused. You watched as he repeatedly shook his head. He looked embarrassed. He got up from the bed and so did you. He kept taking a step back, and he looked jittery. 

You never saw him like this before.

“Warner…” You took a step forward.

You wanted to reach for him, but he was pulling away from you, and you didn’t understand why. You thought this was what he wanted. 

“I’m not…” His voice stuttered. 

Then, when he bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, a gasp escaped your lips. Immediately, you walked towards him. You hesitated to touch him, but you saw it. You saw all of it. 

Scars.

His back was covered with them. Right on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, there was also a tattoo that said:

IGNITE.

“W—What happened?” You asked, your fingers finally grazing over the scarred skin of his back. 

He winced from your touch as he turned around to face you. His face looked like he was in pain as he stared at you for a moment. 

“It’s repulsive, I know.” He said, sliding his shirt back in his body. “They’re birthday gifts from my father from when I was five until I was eighteen.”

You couldn’t help but clamped over a hand on your mouth, another gasp escaping from you. You felt the tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. Warner couldn’t even look at you. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall. 

“I’m not beautiful, love.” He murmured. “I’m repulsive, and I’ve killed people before. Tortured them…” 

You were frozen for a moment. Trying to comprehend everything that you just learned. You knew his father was vile and a psychopath but the thought of Aaron having to go through that kind of abuse? The thought of him being trained by his father to kill people? Anger washed over you. Turning to face him, you walked across the room and cupped his face in your hands, letting his green eyes find yours.

“You’re not repulsive, and I’m not redacting my statement.” You said sternly. 

There wasn’t anything else that you needed to say to convince him to believe you because he was now cupping your face in his hands, his emerald eyes sparkling. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears as he pulled you in for another kiss. A hungry and desperate one but at the same time, it was all so soft like cotton candy. You slid his shirt away from his shoulders again as he carried you to the bed and towered over you. He was breathless as he kissed down your body, and you swore the room started to spin.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven was like. If this was it. If you finally died and went to heaven. If you did, it was peaceful. Quiet. The only one that was looking at you was this man with piercing green eyes and leaving you soft feathered kisses all over your body like you were something new. Like he had never had something like this in his life, and he was afraid that he'd lose it if he didn’t hold on to it tightly. 

Your thoughts were gone as soon as you felt him unzipping your pants. The rest of your clothes were on the floor, and you were lying naked in front of him. You felt the blood rushed to your face as he studied you, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“So enchanting.” He whispered before pressing his face on your neck and leaving soft kisses on your skin. 

“I think…” He breathed heavily. “...my heart has exploded a million times.”

You smiled softly and cupped his face, looking right at him. You have never known this kind of look before. You have never seen anyone look at you like this before. Repeating the words that Warner just told you, you couldn’t help but think about how your heart also exploded a million times because this…

This was everything. 

Being with him was like a safe bubble that you wished you never wanted to leave. If you were asked, you would stay in this cabin forever. You didn’t care about anything else. You just wanted to be with him everyday and that was how it went for the next few weeks. You sneaked out of the base and saw Warner almost every night. It was an escape from this cruel world. A happiness you never knew existed but time was never enough. 

It was always never enough.

You always found yourself going back to the base in the early mornings, hoping you wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the perfect time since everyone would be asleep and the streets were empty during those hours. 

“You’re late.” 

You stopped in your tracks right before entering your room and turned around to find Kenji standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Sometimes you hated the fact that his power was invisibility because this man always appeared out of nowhere.

“Only five minutes late.” You corrected him. 

“I don’t like this, Princess.” Kenji said.

You looked around to make sure no one was around before pulling Kenji inside your room and let out a sigh. 

“Please, Kenji.” You murmured. “I do appreciate you covering for me every night but please understand that this is important to me.”

“Important?” Kenji raised his brow. “You’re meeting up with Warner. Anderson’s son. You know, the one who made this whole shit show of a world in the first place? The one we’re trying to take down?”

“I know, I know.” You raised a hand up to stop him. “But he isn’t like that. He understands what we do, and he wants to help.”

Kenji let out a scoff. “How sure are you that he can be trusted?”

“Because I know.” Your eyes were pleading for him to understand. 

“How sure are you that he isn’t using you just to get information about us too?” 

“Because he also hates his father and besides, we haven’t talked about that in a while.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered Warner for a moment. 

Kenji was suddenly all scrunched up in disgust as he shook his head. “Ew. That’s gross. Don’t ever say that again to me.” 

“Just please, trust me? We will figure this all out soon. He’s trying.” 

Kenji let out a sigh and nodded his head. “Just be careful out there. It’s dangerous and honestly, I don’t like the fact that you are running around late at night out there.”

“Please,” You said, holding back from rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself, Kenji.”

“I know you can but still.” 

You laughed softly. You were grateful for Kenji and besides the fact that you knew he wasn’t really agreeing with this whole thing, you were still glad that he always understood you and never doubted you. 

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Kenji said before walking out the door. 

Flopping yourself on the bed, you exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kenji was right. Warner was Anderson’s son and even if he gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the base, you were terrified that one day his father might find out. Then, what was going to happen? It would risk everything. 

Everyone. 

***********

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[hussyknee]

it’s rare to find a sinhalese person (online atleast) who is supportive of tamil self-determination. genuine question: among leftist circles in sri lanka, how common is such a stance?

I don't know whether I'm a reliable source to answer this question because I'm very jaded about this in general. A couple of days ago, someone on the Sri Lanka Reddit started up discourse about Maitreyi Ramakrishnan's choice to reject identifying with the country that tried to genocide her people, which I'm still chewing wire about. I'm a very isolated person with a very small social circle of like-minded leftist friends. They're mostly not SinBud and anti SinBud nonsense, but none of them are Tamil and I'm the one who really convinced them about Eelam I think. The people I learned from, who are out there doing the work of building inter-ethnic dialogue and overturning Sinhalese propaganda, might have a more hopeful view.

Thing is, there's no one "leftist" faction here because "left" doesn't mean the same thing as it does in the West. The Rajapaksas' party SLPP is socialist, a legacy of their ancestor the SLFP who was the party aligned with the USSR. They and their voters and their saffron terror acolytes (Buddhist priesthood) are all for public infrastructure they can rob blind and central government they can use to crush minorities, and build on the nationalist fervour of genocidal Sinhalese Buddhism that's served both major parties independence. There's quasi-communists, descendants of the ethnonationalist Marxist JVP that rose in opposition to the class corruption of ethnonationalist USSR-aligned socialist SLFP and enthonationalist US-aligned neoliberal UNP. They've since distanced themselves from their ethnic myopia, possibly due to suffering much of the same state terrorism as minorities via militarisation and policies like the draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act. They're the most vocal about the abolition of the executive presidency, the defunding of military and police, and restructuring and executing the long-mismanaged socialist infrastructure. These are usually the working class and university students, but their base has been growing in other demographics too, since we "held our noses and voted" for the Yahapalana government in 2015 and it ended up fucking us over. But despite their sympathy with the suffering of Tamils and Muslims and favouring the devolution of power, most still cling to the idea that Sinhalese majoritarianism is a fair result of democracy.

The kind of pro-LGBT, anti-racist, feminist liberals that would pass muster with the western left otoh, are a minority of urban, English-speaking professionals. Their panacea for enthofascism is voting for the neoliberal party, whose idea of reducing corruption and increasing efficiency is privatizing everything, are against racism because it's bad for tourism, and coasts on the promise of never actively feeding ethnosupremacy, even if they won't do anything about it either. Both these groups hate each other but are equally deeply uncomfortable with if not entirely resistant to the idea that the North and East are Tamil lands colonized by the Sinhalese. Both groups are aware of the corruption and complicity of the Buddhist priesthood and are prepared to do exactly nothing about it.

What I'm trying to say is that Sinhalese Buddhist ethnosupremacy is baked in to the Sri Lankan political fabric. "Left" means jack shit when it comes to whether Tamils have rights, in much the same way that the western left agrees on everything except Palestine. It's a political no man's land everyone tries not to look at.

The fundamental problem is that Sinhalese people who know enough about 1958, 1983, or the full scope of genocide perpetrated against Tamils during the last push of the war, let alone all 26 years of it, are very much in the minority. It takes a particular education to understand that "Sri Lanka" is a post-colonial invention that took over from "Ceylon", which was nothing but a construct for the ease of British administration. As far as I know, this education is confined to activist organizations and whoever followed my sociology program. So my kind of anarchist leftism that calls the war a Tamil genocide with their whole chest and the priesthood saffron terrorists and recognises Eelam is, afaik, vanishingly small.

To be honest, I never really questioned the propaganda and narrative we've been spoon fed myself until I went to Canada when I was 23 to complete my anthro degree (became disabled and dropped out after). One thing that struck me was how racist the Sinhalese diaspora was. I was raised SinBud, my school didn't admit any non-Sinhalese, half my uncles were in the military, but these people that had left the country decades ago still hated Tamils and Muslims in a way that nobody else I knew did. I wondered whether this was what it had been like when it had all started; whether this hatred that seemed to have been preserved in amber was a true taste of what had ignited Black July. Suddenly the attitude of the Tamil diaspora towards the Sri Lankan government and Sinhalese people didn't seem so unreasonable.

Then, later in the same uni term, I went to an art exhibition of a white artist who travelled the world collecting information about their genocides and made art about them, and found a painting depicting Sri Lankan Tamils in 2008. Promptly had a meltdown. Went to the lady and told her tearfully that it was all propaganda, we didn't really hate Tamils, not even my uncles in the army hated Tamils, it was a war, the LTTE had terrorized us for my whole lifetime. Bless the woman, she didn't fight me, just let me cry at her and patted my hand and pretended to take me seriously. This made it easier for me to really think about what I knew once I'd stopped wailing and stamping. It prompted a years-long self-interrogation and fact finding that made me unearth how much brainwashing had been done to us by everyone, from our families to our school textbooks to news media. It's like the air we breathed was propaganda. And I still didn't know a fraction of what life had been like for Tamils (or Muslims) and the scope of atrocities perpetrated by the Sinhalese until I began my Society and Culture degree at the Open University when I was 30. The first year textbooks were only broadstrokes facts, but at last I found out about Gnananth Obeysekera, Prageeth Jeganathan, Stanley Thambaiya, Malithi DeAlwis. Their work on nation-making, ethnicity, historical revisionism, genocide and ethnic conflict and state terrorism...everything I should have been taught as a child. The chapters on the rapes and murders and shelling and war crimes and IDP camps were..indescribable. That was what properly radicalised me about Tamil self-sovereignty, because there's clearly no possible way the Tamil people will ever be safe and safeguarded under a Sinhalese majoritarian government.

I had to drop out of that programme too because of my health. But during the mass protests against the government in 2022, I learned even more about Tamil indigeneity, the extent of JR Jayawardena's crimes, and the persecution of Marxists and victims of the '71 and '89 insurrections. So much of the protests and their encampments were directed and galvanized by social media, that organised online and in-person lectures, teach-outs, and live discussions that anyone and everyone could attend right alongside the protests. I've never seen that kind of truly democratized, free, egalitarian civic education and discourse before. That was the very first time I saw academics, survivors, refugees and human rights activists being given a respectful platform, the masses hearing firsthand accounts from people of the North and East and witnesses of Black July. April to July 2022 was a truly golden bubble of time where I saw people finally start listening, believing, and challenging all their convictions. It was the closest we ever came to realising the hope that things could be different; that we could, as a society, understand how Sinhalese ethnosupremacy had been the black rot killing this country from the first, stop being racist Sinhala-first cunts and actually hold any of these murderers accountable.

Teach us to hope, I guess.

But I suppose it's no small thing that I learned about the Tamil resistance and struggle and taught all my friends about it. I'm sure they're informing their own circles in small ways too. These tendrils are hard to see, but they exist and grow. Especially with the fall of the Rajapaksas and their Bhaiyya contingent, more people can see ethnosupremacy for the grift that it is, and the younger generations are less defensive, more willing to listen and eager for justice and change. So I guess the answer is: not very common, but less uncommon than it used to be.

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 12

A/N: We're fast approaching the end here, but have no fear! There's at least three chapters after this one! Still, I hope everyone sticks around. The end will be worth it; I promise! ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2018/1968.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~3.5k

After a deep breath, you walk through the portal together and find yourselves outside the studio in 2018.

******

Luckily, Elvis has his drivers license from your time in his wallet. He's kept it with him just in case he happened to need it, so you're able to fly together back to your mom's house to get John Jessie.

When you pull up in front of the house, it hits you that you're going to have to introduce Elvis to your mother. You fidget with the ring on your finger and sit in the car without moving.

"Honey? Are we going in?"

"I just hope my mother buys the story."

"The story?"

"I tell people that you are gone for work. Most people don't question it, but this is my mother. She knows me. I just hope she can't tell I'm lying. She doesn't even know I'm married."

"Is it a problem that I'm here?"

"I hope not. She might say something about the fact that you haven't been around before."

"That's not my fault."

"Well, I know that, but I'm not sure she'll buy it."

"Okay. I can handle whatever she says. Let's just go inside. I want to see him."

You take a deep breath and get out of the car. He walks around and takes your hand, kissing your fingers reassuringly.

"I love you, El-"

"John. I love you too, honey. It'll be okay."

"Right. John."

You walk up to the door and knock gently. Your mom hollers from inside.

"Just a second!" After a few minutes, she opens the door with John Jessie on her hip. "Oh, y/n, you brought... who is this?"

Elvis puts his hand on your back to steady you.

"This is John Jessie's father, Mom, John Burrows."

"Oh. Oh my. Well, come on in." She pushes the screen door open and lets you both walk in the door. You can tell Elvis is itching to grab his son and hold him, but your mom has a tight grip on him.

"Mom, can we have a minute? Please?" She turns to Elvis.

"You've never seen him before, have you?"

"No ma'am." You notice Elvis blushing and step in to help.

"John works for the government. When he's on assignment, there's no way to reach him. I couldn't tell him about John Jessie until yesterday." You're a little shocked at how smoothly the lie comes out of you. Still, this is the answer you always give when asked about your husband; he's "on assignment". You never expected to tell it to your mom, though. She looks back and forth between you both skeptically for a second.

"Can I hold him? Please?" Elvis's tone is so sincere, though, that she melts. She carefully hands over John Jessie.

"Mom. A minute, please?" She nods slowly and leaves the room.

As soon as she's gone, Elvis holds John Jessie to himself and lets the tears stream down his face silently. He talks quietly to him and bounces lightly. John Jessie seems to sense that Elvis is familiar for some reason because he doesn't cry or try to wiggle away. He just lets Elvis hold him and listens to his voice. Elvis sits on the couch with him and his tears turn to laughter as he plays with his son. You sit on the couch next to him and wipe your own tears away. You never thought this would be possible. He realizes you're still crying and puts one hand on your thigh as he holds John Jessie with the other.

"Our son is amazing. Thank you, y/n." You nod and lay your head on his shoulder.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey." He kisses your hair and John Jessie squeals and pats on Elvis's chest. "Can we take him home?"

"Of course." You call to your mom to help you pack up his things. As you pack, she nods to Elvis.

"He's wearing a wedding ring."

"Yeah. Well." You hold up your hand and show her your ring. "So am I."

Your mom looks at you in utter shock.

"We've been married for two years. He's just been gone the whole time."

"Is he back for good now?"

"No. He's only here for a few days."

Your mom grabs you and pulls you into a hug. She's been worried about you for so long, maybe even been judging you a little for getting pregnant randomly. But now that she knows more about your situation, she understands how hard this must've been for you.

Elvis sits on the floor and continues playing with John Jessie as you finish packing all of his things. Your mom watches and then turns to you again.

"He seems like a good man."

"He is."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, when he's here. It's hard to be without him."

"I bet it is. I'm sorry sweetie; I had no idea."

"It's okay. It's the only way we can be together and I'd rather be with him when I can than not at all."

"You really love him."

"I do. And he loves me."

Your mom nods and you grab the last few things to pack. As you go to say goodbye, your mom kisses John Jessie in his car seat. Then, she turns to Elvis and gives him a hug.

"It was nice to meet you. I hope we'll get to see you again soon."

"Thank you, ma'am."

He carries the car seat to the car and you show him how to click it into the base.

"Well, these things have changed a little in the last 50 years." You laugh.

"That's an understatement."

You get into the car on the passenger side and let Elvis drive you back to your house. John Jessie falls asleep in the car and you revel in the joy of having your family together, even if it's just for a few days.

******

You spend the next six days in domestic bliss. Elvis proves to be exactly the kind of father you thought he'd be. He's playful, caring, patient, and affectionate. One night, you wake up to an empty bed and panic a little. But you find him in John Jessie's room, rocking him and singing quietly. Once he lays the baby back down, he walks to you in the doorway and wraps you in his arms, kissing your cheek.

"You're an unbelievable father."

"I'm just so happy to be here with you both." His smile is so genuine that it breaks your heart.

"I wish you could stay forever."

"I do too, honey. But this isn't the last time I'll be here, right?"

"No. I've been trying to think of a plan." You walk back to your bedroom and crawl in bed with him, settling with his arm around you and your head on his chest.

"So, a plan?" He asks.

"Well, the portals appear when we're in the same place 50 years apart, right?"

"Yeah."

"What if I tell you where and when to meet me?" He raises his eyebrows like he's thinking it over.

"How would you tell me?"

"Every time you're here, I'll have it planned for the next time."

"I don't see why that wouldn't work. How often are you thinking?"

"Well, I think it would be hard to do it too often. Maybe every few months?" He sighs. It's obvious he doesn't want to be away from you that long.

"That long?"

"If you're here too often, someone might notice that your hair changes or something. And I don't want you to get lost in living two lives."

"Okay. That makes sense. I still wish I could just bring Lisa and come here."

"I know, babe, but you really can't."

"Yeah. I just miss you. And now I'm going to miss him too." He kisses your hair and squeezes you tighter.

"It'll be okay. We'll make it work somehow." You yawn and snuggle into his chest.

"I know, honey. I know." He kisses your hair again and you both settle in to go back to sleep.

******

After six days, you can tell he's getting antsy to get back to his other life. When you have sex that night and the portal appears, he lays his head on your shoulder and sighs.

"You're ready to go, aren't you?"

"I'm so sorry, honey."

"No, it's okay, I understand." He gets up and gathers his things together to go back to where he came from. Once he's ready, he grabs you and holds you close.

"Don't forget. November 18th, California."

"Yes, baby, I know. I'll see you then."

"I wouldn't complain if you're wearing your movie costume. Just sayin'." He smiles and kisses your mouth.

"Whatever you say, honey." With that, he turns and disappears through the portal. You sit on the bed and cry. Will it ever get easier for him to leave you?

******

The answer is no. It never gets any easier. He comes to you in November, and brings his costume from The Trouble with Girls, which makes for some fun times in the bedroom. You spend Thanksgiving together and then he goes back through a portal.

He comes to you again in December and he's there with you for two weeks during Christmas and New Year's. But he leaves on the first and goes back to his own time to have Christmas with Lisa.

You manage to coordinate visits every couple of months for the next year. He watches John Jessie grow and you live as a happily married couple whenever he's around. He goes out with your friends sometimes and you fight and make up just like a real couple.

Somewhere in November of 2019, he has an idea.

"What if we had another baby?"

"Another baby?!"

"Yeah? You've done such a good job with John Jessie. I always wanted more kids."

"What about with Priscilla?" He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"No. I want them with you."

"Well. I guess I could handle two if you come to me as often as you do now."

"Baby, I'm not gonna change the plan unless you do."

You smile widely and he grabs you in his arms and holds you tight. You throw your birth control pills in the trash and practice that night, even though you know he has to leave.

******

He comes back in December for you to have Christmas together. He's careful to bring cash, so he can buy presents for you and John Jessie.

On Christmas Eve, you get John Jessie in bed and sit together in the living room looking at the lights on the Christmas tree. He fetches a small gift from under the tree and puts it in your lap.

"What is this?"

"I want you to open it now." You tear open the wrapping on the small box and then open the box. It's a new ring.

"Oh, Elvis, I can't accept this."

"Yes you can. My wife has been wearing that small diamond for long enough. Please." He pulls the emerald cut three-stone diamond ring out of the box and slides it onto your finger gingerly.

"Elvis, this is like-"

"10 carats. I promised you no less." He wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead.

"Do you like it, honey?"

"I love it so much, babe. Almost as much as I love you." You look up and he kisses your lips. Your relationship has reached the kind of comfortable intimacy that comes with marriage and you're happy to go on like this for as long as you can. You know there's an end date that will come far too soon, but for right now, you're happy together.

"Hey." He whispers in your ear.

"Yeah?"

"Remember when we made love on the floor in front of the fireplace and I proposed to you?"

"After we played in the snow? Of course I remember."

"Do you wanna...?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Mmmm let's go get in bed."

"No, I mean right here."

"What if John Jessie wakes up?" He starts to lay you down on the couch and kisses your neck.

"Then he'll catch us making him a sibling." He drags his tongue up from your neck to your ear and nibbles gently.

"Mmmmm seriously though..." You lose your train of thought as he runs his hand up the front of your sweatshirt and squeezes your naked breast. He runs his thumb over your hardening nipple and groans.

"You really gonna say no, baby?" He rolls his hips into yours and presses his erection into your center. You moan and kiss his lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth.

"No." You whisper against him, smiling.

"That's what I thought." He pulls your sweatshirt up and over your head and then sits up to take his shirt off. Laying back down on top of you, he grinds into you again and groans. "I wanna be inside you so bad, baby."

"Mmmm what are you waiting for?" He sits up again and pulls your pajama pants off of you and situates himself between your legs.

"This first." He kisses the inside of one thigh and then the other. Then, he slides his tongue into your slit and pushes it in and out over and again. You whimper and bite your lip trying to stay quiet. He moves his tongue up to your clit and swirls it around in a circle. You run your fingers through his hair and he smiles.

"Don't stop!" You whisper.

"Yes ma'am." He presses his mouth to you and begins to lick you vigorously, over and around and up and down each side. The sensation of his tongue on your most sensitive place is so intensely good that you forget yourself for a moment and moan loudly.

"Elvisssss."

"Honey, you're gonna wake the boy." He whispers, backing off of you. You nod and move his head back down to your center. This time he adds two fingers and slips them inside you to tickle the place that drives you crazy. You whimper again and squirm under him. The electricity is gathering in your core and you feel your orgasm approaching. He feels your walls flutter and flattens his tongue against you. Then, he pulls back for just a second.

"Come for daddy, baby." The subtle vibration runs through you and he tightens his tongue and licks you hard.

"Mmm yesssss..." You hiss as your climax sets you on fire and runs through you in waves. He keeps right on licking you as you ride the high of your orgasm. Once you come back down to earth, he backs off of you and wipes his mouth with his hand. You sit up and pull his pajama pants off, pushing him into a sitting position. He strokes himself as you put one knee on either side of his hips. Then, he grabs yours and guides you as you sink onto his rock hard cock.

"Fuck yes, baby." He groans softly as he slides inside you. It doesn't matter how many times you do this, the feeling of him filling you perfectly is something that'll never get old. He moves his hands up to cup your breasts as you begin to grind on him, pushing him deeper and deeper inside you. You move on him faster and he leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes. Then, without any warning, he grabs you around the waist and flips you over on your back without pulling out of you.

You whimper with the change in position and he starts driving into you passionately. With each thrust, he grunts and slams into you harder. He holds your hip with one hand and fucks you so deeply you want to scream it feels so good. But you don't, in case John Jessie hears you.

"God, I love your pussy." He groans quietly. "I'm gonna come, honey."

"Good. Put a baby in me." He groans again and then pounds into you and shudders.

"Fuck yes!" He yells and then looks around quickly. "Oh shit."

He pumps weakly a few more times and then lays his head on your shoulder without pulling out. You're in this position together breathing heavily and sweating when you hear a door open and tiny feet coming toward you. In half a second, Elvis grabs the blanket on the back of the couch and throws it over his back, but he doesn't move otherwise.

"Daddy? Santa here? What doin'?" You hear his little not-quite-three-year-old voice. Elvis pops his head up and looks at him over the armrest.

"No, Buddy, Santa didn't come yet. Go back to bed; I'll be there in just a minute." You try to sink into the couch and not make a sound. The last thing you need is for him to come looking for you.

"You comin'?"

"Yep, buddy, in more ways than one. I'll see you in a little bit, okay? Go get back in your bed." You hear his little feet as he makes his way back to his bedroom and closes the door. Thank God he went back on his own. Elvis collapses on your shoulder and laughs quietly.

"I told you we would get caught!" You whisper as you laugh.

"Yeah, but it was worth it." He kisses your cheek and your mouth and then pulls out of you and sits up. You grab your clothes and get dressed as he does the same. When he goes to walk to John Jessie's room, he almost walks through the portal, but you grab the back of his shirt just in time.

"Shit, it's a night of close calls." He leans over and kisses you gently. "I'd be lost without you. I love you so much, baby. I'll see you in bed."

He goes to your son's room and you hear him talking to him in a reassuring voice. As you go to your bedroom and climb in bed, you have one thought: how did you get so lucky?

******

On New Year's Day you prepare to say your goodbyes. But you've done this so many times that even though it doesn't get easier, it does become more of a routine. Once you finish making love and the portal appears, he puts back on the clothes that he had on when he came through while you grab John Jessie from his nap. He kisses both of you and looks over at the portal.

"I'll be back in March for his birthday. I love you both so much. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too, Elvis." He puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'll miss you every minute."

"I know, babe, but it's only a few months." He nods and kisses your cheek again. Then, he turns and walks through the portal. It disappears with a pop and you try to swallow your tears. You fail, like always, and they slide down your cheeks while you hold John Jessie close. Only a few months until he's back.

******

Two things happen in those months. First, you find out you're pregnant again. And you're ecstatic and can't wait to tell Elvis when you see him in March. This visit increases in importance and you count the days.

But a second thing happens in the months leading up to March of 2020. A new virus hits the world and everything changes. You sit in terror watching the tv as people begin to die and the country begins to shut down. Between John Jessie and the new baby in your belly, you know you can't risk going out. Still, you plan to wear two masks and go to Vegas to meet Elvis.

And then Vegas shuts down. You consider what might happen if Elvis comes to you and then takes Coronavirus back to 1970.

There's no way you can take that risk. Or risk either of your babies' lives by traveling. The date of your rendezvous comes and goes and you still sit hunkered in your house. Surely it'll be safe enough again someday for you to find him?

In the meantime, you hold yourself and cry harder than you have in a long time. Will you ever see him again?

******

Elvis waits in the meeting place all day. He cancels his evening shows and sits on the floor, head spinning. His heart is beating so fast and his hands are sweating.

What happened to you? You've never missed a meeting point before. And he has a sinking feeling that he can't explain like something terrible has happened. Eventually, the tears fall and one of his guys finds him holding his knees, head on his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey, EP, what's going on? Are you okay?" The only thing he says in return is something that doesn't make any sense to anyone around.

"Why didn't she come for me?"

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @tacozebra051

[fourteentrout]

ACOTAR tag game 💕

thanks for tagging me @mathiwrites ! I don't normally do these even when tagged because i never know who to tag, a lot of times everyone i think of is already tagged LOL, but i figured id start today!

I don't think I've seen one around, and figured this might be fun to do!

Answer the questions below & tag whoever you want, or make it an open tag!!

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

My boy tamlin!!

Who's your least favourite character?

Hm....hmmmm...oh Amren for sure.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

She has a cool character concept and i thought it was really sweet and endearing when she gave feyre the bracelet (necklace?) to help her get through the Prison trip without panicking

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Oooh hm not to be a copycat but I loved tarquin from the moment he was introduced, he was an instant fav and i was kind of sad that he didn't have more involvement later on that didn't have to do with the whole feyre and rhys betraying his trust thing

Favourite MINOR character?

ooh i dont know if this is minor enough but i've come to really like jurian. i didn't really have much of an opinion on him for most of the series and then for some reason in silver flames when he was in it for like 2 seconds i was like wait a minute why haven't i been more into this guy he kinda fucks

Favourite ship? (Crackships included!)

tamsand by far. though azris is becoming a close second.

Favourite court and why?

well i loved the spring court aesthetic from the first book, but at this point in the series I think I'd say maybe actually dawn. it just sounded so pretty, and i think it would be one of the subtler, less overwhelming courts while still being awe-inspiring.

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

oh shoot um okay court of clouds?? people who specialize in wind manipulation, likely populated by a race related to the Peregryns or Drakon's race? an actual cloud court like in the sky could be a vibe I think. perhaps it would be more removed from the politics of prythian--they'd still have a High Lord, but maybe it would be more of a military government or something.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

oh wow i mean i am always here for more rhys and tamlin content obviously, but i would have also loved to see more of like stories and stuff about the sentries from the spring court that went over the wall, like Andras. andras and lucien's relationship in particular would be one I would have liked to know more about. I also really want to see Azriel and his mom.

What's your unpopular opinion?

god what ISN'T my unpopular opinion. hm. i think feyre's whole reasoning for wanting a baby out of seemingly nowhere is dumb. like i get it, yolo, life can be cut short, but like i really do not feel like she picked a good time to have a baby, nor do i think she is remotely ready to be a mother. when she realized she wanted kids in acofas, it wasn't a strong enough argument for me to actually like get behind her decision.

What's your favourite headcanon/fan canon?

omg i have so many I literally started a list lol. the first one on it is kind of silly, it's that Helion is actually the faerie romance author sellyn drake that nesta, emerie, and gwyn like

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

go to a festival! not necessarily something as crazy as calanmai, but i would love to go to some sort of celebration. maybe starfall?

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

shapeshifting without a doubt

thanks again for the tag! ill tag @cheap-spirits @achaotichuman @thedickgraysons @wingsdippedingold @hugevanserrass @lady-of-sevenwaters @the-darkestminds @msbrownwithacrown @tamlinsnailtech and anyone else who wants to contribute!! if were mutuals and i didnt tag u im sorry i tried to think of as many as possible LOL but yeah definitely feel free to contribute if you want to! this was fun

[useless-catalanfacts]

The Catalan authors who were kept out of the Nobel Literature Prize for being Catalan

Did you know that there have been a handful of Catalan writers who were candidates to win the Nobel Literature Prize, but because of Spanish interference they never did?

The Nobel Prize discloses its debate and reasoning process 50 years after each edition. This means that we already know the details of what happened in the earliest editions of this Prize, which was started in 1901.

The name of the Catalan play-writer Àngel Guimerà (author of Marta of the Lowlands, Mar i cel, La filla del mar...), whose works have been translated to many languages and played all around Europe and the Americas, with many film and opera adaptations, sounded often in the Nobel committee. He was presented as a candidate to win the Nobel Prize 17 times in a row, since 1907 until his death in 1924. In the editions of 1917 and 1919, many were convinced he would win. However, the declassified documents show why he didn't: as written by the man who was then president of the Nobel Committee, Haralg Härne, Guimerà wasn't given the prize "to avoid hurting the national pride of the Spanish". In 1919, Härne writes that the objective of the Nobel Prize is to promote peace and thus to award Guimerà and show support for a minority culture would be to encourage internal conflict (🤦). The Academy decided that they couldn't give a prize to Guimerà "before awarding another writer who expresses himself in the most ancient noble language of the country" (weird way to mean "the official language", aka Spanish, because they surely didn't mean Basque). In summary, if a Catalan is to be considered, he must always be second to a Spanish man. Even when the Catalan is, in the words of the Nobel Academy, "the most eminent writer of our times", he can never be considered an equal, always must be behind.

Àngel Guimerà wrote in the Catalan language, which was discriminated against by Spanish and considered an enemy by the Spanish government and much of Spanish society. Guimerà was a firm defender of the right to use the Catalan language and that nobody should be forced to speak the imperial languages instead of their own, and was involved with the political movement for the rights of Catalan people. For this reason, every time the famous Swedish academy was considering Guimerà, the Spanish Royal Academy of Language (RAE) fought it with all its might. Nowadays, Guimerà's theatre plays continue to move thousands of spectators every year.

The same happened again with the poet Josep Carner. In the 1960s, Josep Carner was on exile, because he was a Catalan poet writing in Catalan and who stood against the fascist dictatorship of Spain, which persecuted the Catalan language and identity. Famous writers from around the world, including T. S. Eliot, François Mauriac, Giuseppe Ungaretti and Roger Caillois, supported Josep Carner's candidacy to win the Nobel, but the Spanish Government did everything possible to obstruct it. We don't know if Carner would have won or not, but he was deprived of even trying because of the Spanish government's hatred of Catalan.

Something similar seems to have happened between the 1970s and 1990s to three other Catalan poets: Salvador Espriu, J. V. Foix, and Miquel Martí i Pol, where they did not get any support from the Spanish authorities, so we don't know how it would have ended up.

Another example of what it means to have a state actively working against you because of bigotry against your cultural group.

Sources: book Det litterära Nobelpriset by the president of the Nobel Committee Kjell Espmarck, Pep Antoni Roig (El Nacional), Joan Lluís-Lluís (El Punt Avui), and Jordi Marrugat (Institut Ramon Llull).

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR (PART I) — ANNOUNCEMENTS AND CONTENT WARNINGS

Well, this one has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

My goal is to get Part I completed and published this weekend. It will be roughly 25-26k words in length.

I’d really appreciate it if y’all can read through this before you read Part I. The Great War is very different from my other fics, in terms of both style and the general setting, so I feel it necessary to give some context.

First, The Great War is a non-linear story. This might seem a bit confusing, given that Part I takes place over the course of a little more than a year. However, you’ll likely notice there are some gaps in the story as you read through — these are intentional. While Part I is a chronological telling of Reader and Giyuu’s relationship, Part II features several major flashbacks to events that occur during the timeline of Part I that are not actually shown in Part I. So if you find yourself getting curious about when a character finds out a bit of information, or referenced some past occurrence that you didn’t read — know that it’s intentional, and it will show up in Part II.

Second, Part I of The Great War follows the canon timeline as closely as possible, with a few minor deviations. There are references to multiple canon events in the series, and I tried to follow it as much as I could. Huge shoutout to @/demonslayedher her incredible timeline.

Third, the reason TGW has taken so long is that I tried to be as historically accurate as was feasible to both Japan and its culture. That said, Shinto shrines and the practices of Shrine Maidens in particular were heavily cracked down upon by the Imperial government during the Meiji Era (the era immediately preceding the Taishō period in which Demon Slayer is canonically set). Obviously the reality of Shinto shrines and their practices during that period complicates the setting of TGW, and particularly, the Reader character, so I took some creative liberties. However, I do reference the fact that the Shrine where the Reader trains is not what it once was, and it functions more like a girl’s boarding house/school, where the girls who live there just happen to also be educated in Shinto practices/Shrine keeping.

Fourth, because there are a lot of references to Japanese culture and practices, I will link an addendum for your reference. The most important things to know is that Miko means “Shrine Maiden,” which is why it is used frequently.

Finally, I do want to acknowledge that the Reader is given a slight description — namely, in terms of her hair. It is described as very long, and when discussed from Giyuu’s perspective, he frequently depicts it as “silky.” This is not meant to be exclusive in any way — lots of hair types can be silky. I do make a very conscious effort to avoid using physically describing my Reader inserts (apart from acknowledging their beauty because, guess what? You’re all beautiful!!) But as the story is set in Taisho Era Japan and Reader is a Shrine Maiden, I found it difficult to avoid giving some vague description of her hair — especially given its importance with respect to a certain gift she receives from Giyuu during Part I. Please know that these references come up very sparingly, and again, I do avoid going into greater detail. Beyond that, she is only described as beautiful from Giyuu’s point of view.

Now, onto the content and trigger warnings.

Like most of my works, The Great War contains explicit sexual content, so minors do not interact.

This next warning is not so much centered around Part I, but more for the story in general. TGW is heavily centered around Giyuu attempting to deal with his trauma following the end of the canonical series — and it does feature violence as well as instances of PTSD. I don’t believe anything is too graphic, but it’s just something to keep in mind. That said, his PTSD will not appear in Part I — however, it will be a main focus of the story from Part II, on.

So, here are the warnings for The Great War

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • loss of virginity • unprotected sex • virgins being virgins • oral sex (F!receiving) • squirting • fingering • Giyuu is obsessed with Reader’s pleasure • creampies • semi-public sex • tbh they fuck everywhere but the bed • mention of pregnancy • protective Giyuu • possessive Giyuu • Giyuu is a simp for one person and it’s Reader • pregnancy (later)

TW: canon-typical violence • strangulation • PTSD • depictions of trauma • nightmares • some angst • Giyuu struggles with communicating his feelings • brief instance/implication of stalking by a non-canon character • mild description of panic/anxiety

My goal is to have Part I posted this weekend, so here’s to hopefully seeing y’all soon!

[qqueenofhades]

Thank you, so much, for you post on the Online Leftists.

As a Jew (not currently in Israel), who's chronically online, I keep seeing some very horrific posts claiming for "death to the Zionists", and that has been.... Not fun.

It was a massive relief to read your post and realize that maybe not *everyone* thinks like this, that maybe this is a very vocal minority.

It made my day so much better.

Thank you, that means a lot to me. If you're interested, you can see how else I have addressed the issue of Western leftist antisemitism in the context of the current conflict in my israel hamas war tag. In short: it's perfectly possible to strongly and consistently criticize the current Israeli government's actions, and to unequivocally call what's happening to Gaza a genocide, without being Nazi-level antisemitic and rabbling on about how Joe Biden is a genocidal fascist and we shouldn't vote for him because you never know, Trump might be "better on Gaza!" (Yes, an actual argument I have repeatedly seen floating around. Delusional does not begin to cover it.)

Anyway, I have done my best to limit my posts on this subject, because it's absolutely crazy-making to even attempt to discuss it online right now and I have better things to do with my one short and precious life, but I have tried to be very clear on the antisemitism issue. Both because it's really not that hard to support Palestinians without frothingly calling for the annihilation of Israel on extremely inaccurate, bigoted, and illogical grounds, and because yes, the amount of antisemitism which prevails utterly unchallenged in leftist spaces nowadays is deeply disheartening and I do not, in any sense of the word, want to be associated with those people. I also think it's important to make clear that indeed, they're a loud and harmful minority, but they don't speak for everyone who identifies as leftist or a supporter of Palestine (though I have trouble with both those labels, particularly "leftist," because of how badly they have been co-opted and the amount of explanation that it takes to make clear how I disagree with the other groups using them). Also that (shock, surprise) it is actually possible to discuss these subjects with a modicum of nuance, complexity, accuracy, and reality, rather than just yelling hysterical misinformation! Who knew.

[mariacallous]

There was a moment that struck me, and I think it would strike you too: Donald Trump openly praised Viktor Orbán, as he has done repeatedly in the past. But he said, explicitly, Orbán is a good guy because he’s a “strongman,” which is a word that he clearly takes to be a compliment, not derogatory. You’ve written about the strongman fantasy in your Substack, so I’m curious: What do you think Trump is appealing to here?

Well, I’m going to answer it in a slightly different way, and then I’ll go back to the way you mean it. I think he’s tapping into one of his own inner fantasies. I think he looks around the world and he sees that there’s a person like Orbán, who’s taken a constitutional system and climbed out of it and has managed to go from being a normal prime minister to essentially being an extraconstitutional figure. And I think that’s what Trump wants for himself. And then, of course, the next step is a Putin-type figure, where he’s now an unquestioned dictator.

For the rest of us, I think he’s tapping—in a minor key—into inexperience, and that was my strongman piece that you kindly mentioned. Americans don’t really think through what it would mean to have a government without the rule of law and the possibility of throwing the bums out. I think we just haven’t thought that through in all of its banality: the neighbors denouncing you, your kids not having social mobility because you maybe did something wrong, having to be afraid all the damn time. African Americans and some immigrants have a sense of this, but in general, Americans don’t get that. They don’t get what that would be like.

So that’s a minor key. The major key, though, is the 20% or so of Americans who really, I think, authentically do want an authoritarian regime, because they would prefer to identify personally with a leader figure and feel good about it rather than enjoy freedom.

You mentioned the word banality, which makes me think of Hannah Arendt’s theory of the “banality of evil.” What would the banality of authoritarianism look like in America?

So let me first talk about the nonbanality of evil, because our version of evil is something like, and I don’t want to be too mean, but it’s something like this: A giant monster rises out of the ocean and then we get it with our F-16s or F-35s or whatever. That’s our version of evil. It’s corporeal, it’s obviously bad, and it can be defeated by dramatic acts of violence.

And we apply that to figures like Hitler or Stalin, and we think, Okay, what happened with Hitler was that he was suddenly defeated by a war. Of course he was defeated by a war, but he did some dramatic and violent things to come to power, but his coming to power also involved a million banalities. It involved a million assimilations, a million changes of what we think of as normal. And it’s our ability to make things normal and abnormal which is so terrifying. It’s like an animal instinct on our part: We can tell what the power wants us to do, and if we don’t think about it, we then do it. In authoritarian conditions, this means that we realize, Oh, the law doesn’t really apply anymore. That means my neighbor could have denounced me for anything, and so I better denounce my neighbor first. And before you know it, you’re in a completely different society, and the banality here is that instead of just walking down the street thinking about your own stuff, you’re thinking, Wait a minute, which of my neighbors is going to denounce me?

Americans think all the time about getting their kids into the right school. What happens in an authoritarian country is that all of that access to social mobility becomes determined by obedience. And as a parent, suddenly you realize you have to be publicly loyal all the time, because one little black mark against you ruins your child’s future. And that’s the banality right there. In Russia, everybody lives like that, because any little thing you do wrong, and your kid has no chance. They get thrown out of school; they can’t go to university.

We don’t imagine how a regime change is going to be at the dinner table. The regime change is going to be on the sidewalk. It’s going to be in your whole life. It’s not going to be some external thing. It’s not like this strongman is just going to be some bad person in the White House, and then eventually the good guys will come and knock him out. When the regime changes, you change and you adapt, and you look around as everyone else is adapting and you realize, Well, everyone else adapting is a new reality for me, and I’m probably going to have to adapt too. Trump wants to be a strongman. He’s already tried a ​​ coup d’état. He makes it clear that he wants to be a different regime. And so if you vote him in, you’re basically saying, “Okay, strongman, tell me how to adapt.”

Yeah, we could talk about Project 2025 all day. This new effort to bureaucratize tyranny—which was not in place in 2020—could really make the banal aspect a reality because it’s enforced by the administrative state, which is going to be felt by Americans at a quotidian level.

I agree with what you say. If I were in business, I would be terrified of Project 2025 because what it’s going to lead to is favoritism. You’re never going to get approvals for your stuff unless you’re politically close to administration. It’s going to push us toward a more Hungary-like situation, where the president’s pals’ or Jared Kushner’s pals’ companies are going to do fine. But everybody else is going to have to pay bribes. Everyone else is going to have to make friends.

It’s anticompetitive.

Yeah, it’s going to generate a very, very uneven playing field where certain people are going to be favored and become oligarchs. And most of the rest of us are going to have a hard time. Also, the 40,000 [loyalists Trump wants to replace the administrative state with] are going to be completely incompetent. When people stop getting their Social Security checks, they’re going to realize that the federal government—which they’ve been told is so dysfunctional—actually did do some things. It’s going to be chaos. The only way to get anything done is to have a phone number where you can call somebody at someplace in the government and say, “Make my thing a priority.” The chaos of the administration state feeds into the strongman thing. And since that’s true, the strongman view starts to become natural for you because it’s the only way to get anything done.

Timothy Snyder Explains How Americans Might Adapt to Fascism Under Trump

[matan4il]

Thank you for your daily updates.

I've been seeing people discussing why/not the ICJ case is valid, but nothing on how the judges are likely to rule, a discussion that happens often when there is a big SCOTUS case.

What of their temperaments? Sure there's a Lebanese judge, that doesn't inherently make him antisemitic. Do you know if the judges are more "left" or "right?" My hopes are not high, considering they refuse to see evidence of the actual Oct 7 massacres (shame, since Hamas really wanted that broadcasted).

Hi Nonnie,

I usually try to reply to asks at the same order I got them, but I'll make an exception, because of how relevant this is to the current proceedings at the ICJ right now.

I don't think that being Muslim makes anyone inherently biased, nor do I think being Jewish means a person is free of the antisemitism of their environment, so I generally believe it's impossible for judges to be completely disconnected from what their country's position is. I believe the ICJ recognizes this as well, and that's why, a country that is suing or sued at the ICJ without having a representation among the permanent judges, has the right to appoint one. Specifically when it comes to Lebanon, I have to admit that IDK how possible it is for the Lebanese judge to ignore the fact that his country has for decades implemented an actual apartheid, a legally imposed policy of discrimination against Palestinians who live there.

Well, for this trial, we have an Israeli judge, a SA judge, and the 15 permanent judges. Here's one analysis about the 15 that I read:

American judge: had worked as a legal advisor to the administrations of Clinton and Obama, believes the scope of international law is limited (so she's less likely to grant SA a provisional measure that's a legal precedent).

Russian judge: advises Russia on two legal matters (regarding Georgia, and Kosovo), believes the scope of international law should be wider, has voted against demanding of Russia to stop the military operation in Ukraine, and has published independently his opinion that the ICJ has no right to judge the Russia-Ukraine conflict, because Russia didn't recognize its authority on this. Has visited Israel in 2015 for an international space conference, and together with 2 other ICJ judges, has conducted a "trial" regarding space law.

Slovak judge: sees the scope of international law as narrower, in the past he indicated that he thinks the crime of committing a genocide can't be decided in this court (that it should be in a criminal one), he has also said that quotes uttered in "the heat of battle" (the kind at the basis of SA's lawsuit) are not indicative of policy intent, they're just war propaganda. Has visited Israel in 2015 for an international space conference, and together with 2 other ICJ judges, has conducted a "trial" regarding space law.

French judge: Jewish, considered critical of Israel. In the past, while arguing against Israel, he has also said that the conflict here is political by nature and that the involvement of the ICJ in it is unhelpful to dialogue between the parties.

Moroccan judge: in the past, his decisions included non-legal considerations (for example, he said he's not sure Ukraine's move against Russia fits the convention on the prevention of genocide, but he still was in favor of granting Ukraine the provisional measures it was asking for). He was also a minority vote in the matter of whether the Serbs committed a genocide against the Bosnian Muslims, where the majority determined that the conditions to define it as such were not met.

Somali judge: there are no past indications of how he might rule from an international law perspective. He's Muslim, but in the past he has joined an Iftar dinner at the home of the Israeli ambassador at the Hague, and has also once opened a Holocaust Day lecture for the ICJ.

Chinese judge: has worked for her government in the past. She has voted against the provisional measures Ukraine has asked for against Russia, saying that it seems like an attempt to use the convention in order to get the ICJ to decide in broader political matters than the convention allows for. She has also argued against provisional measures that only demand one side would stop the fighting.

Ugandan judge: has worked for her government in the past. There are no past indications of how she might rule from an international law perspective.

Indian judge: tends towards an expanded view of what is discrimination. Has visited Israel in 2015 for an international space conference, and together with 2 other ICJ judges, has conducted a "trial" regarding space law.

Jamaican judge: has worked for his government in the past. Has voted against Russia when it came to the provisional measures demanding it stops its fighting against Ukraine.

Lebanese judge: has expressed anti-Israel views in the past, and has also repeatedly shown that he takes his country's position into account in his decisions. Has argued in the past that in situations of military occupation, the burden of proof is very low, or that the burden of proof should be on the occupier.

German judge: in the past, he has published his opposition to an Israeli law professor's article, arguing that a wider view is required when it comes to the right to self defense.

Japanese judge: in the past, he has published an article that sees the right of third party countries to appear before the ICJ (as is SA in this case) as limited.

Australian judge: very active in the field of women and gender rights. In the past, she has criticized ICJ rulings that allowed the coalition forces a lot of freedom in Iraq.

Brazilian judge: in the past, he has referred to the PLO as a terrorist organization (at the time about which he was writing), but he did the same regarding the Jewish underground movement, the Hagana (which worked to protect Jews, and to smuggle them "illegally" into the Land of Israel to save them from the Nazis during WWII).

According to one legal correspondent that I listened to, SA has asked for so many provisional measures, that the ICJ is unlikely to turn them all down. This reporter believes that the ICJ will likely not grant the provisional measure calling on Israel to stop the fighting, but it will probably grant at least two other provisional measures. She had a bet which two, the provisional measure calling on more humanitarian aid to be brought into Gaza (if true, this would be so redundant. One of the points made at the ICJ proceedings, was that Israel has agreed to allow in as much humanitarian aid as could be taken in on the Gazan side, and was willing to expand its operations on the Israeli side for this to happen. In other words, what's currently limiting the amount of aid going in is the capacity to handle it on the Gazan, not Israeli, side), and to collect evidence regarding the fighting in Gaza (which Israel is already doing).

I hope this helped! xoxox

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