#i'm going to have war flashbacks about this forever

[humangods]

I'm so tired of the onslaught of p*rn bots and all the blocking and reporting I have to do like it's the early 2010s again. When will this end?

[wakanai]

dazai and oda

mushitarou and yokomizo

veraline and rimbaud

koyou and her lover

chuuya and the flags

akutagawa and his friends

ango and oda

kyouka and her parents

ranpo and his parents

tachihara and his brother

yosano and tachihara's brother

francis and his daughter + wife who couldn't bear the pain and became mentally ill

fukuchi and his suboordinates

BSD is full of characters who've suffered the loss of someone close to them and is still in mourning even after they're long gone.

[stylesispunk]

"Eternal whispers of you"

marcus acacius x f!reader

Summary: In a time of ancient empires, the forbidden love between a powerful general, Marcus Acacius, and the emperor's sister was met with tragedy. Their affair was discovered, and the emperor cursed his sister to live an eternal life, forced to witness Marcus die in every lifetime without the chance to love him fully again. After a thousand lives, would they meet again?

w.c: 13k (this was supposed to be 8k.)

warnings: angst, power imbalance, loss, separation, mentions of curse, some historical mistakes, the story also takes place in the modern day (I'm telling you) not proofreading. paragraphs in cursive indicate flashbacks.

a/n: This idea was better in my head, but the last Gladiator 2 trailer made me feel things and inspired me to write this. You will also notice inspiration from "The Age of Adeline" in this story. I hope you like it cuz it took me three days to write it. You will notice some inaccurate facts but it was for the sake of the story and my imagination, don't judge me, please. Happy reading and PLEASE share your thoughts with me. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

********"

You were cursed to a life without an ending. Lonely and loveless, every day of your life or any love you could find wouldn't reciprocate and you were going to be condemned to see them grow old and die, and you would continue to live a life in an endless cycle of tragedy.

You were condemned to just tell stories about the man of your life, the one who had been murdered and punished to die without honor for your brother's poisoned mouth.

You became a traitor for the empire. But not cries out of shame or the dirty words of people hurt as much as the day you hold Marcus’s hand for the last time as his eyes closed in a forever eternity that you were going to live without him.

Not even death could put you both together in the same path. You were cursed to remember his love, and you were cursed to never see him again and to live a never-ending life without the love who made your life a field of dreams.

The night after your love affair with Marcus was discovered. The emperor, your brother, furious with your betrayal, condemned both of you. You were summoned to the imperial court, where your brother delivered the punishment. His words sting like venom, cursing Marcus to die dishonorably in front of your eyes.

That night still haunted you.

The imperial court was dimly lit by the flickering flames of torches, casting shadows across the towering marble columns. You stood at the center, your heart pounding like war drums in your chest. Your brother, sat upon his gilded throne, his eyes dark with fury. You could barely hear the words that escaped his lips, but their venom poisoned the air between you.

“Traitor,” he spat, his voice echoing through the chamber. “You have betrayed not only your empire but your blood.”

Your eyes flicked to Marcus, kneeling beside you, bound and bruised. The strong, unyielding general was barely recognizable under the weight of chains and despair. His gaze, however, remained fixed on you, calm, resolute, and filled with love that no curse could shatter.

Your brother’s face twisted with rage as he stood, his robes sweeping the floor like the wings of a vulture. “You,” he snarled, his finger pointing at Marcus, “will die with dishonor, like a common criminal for taking advantage of my sister. And you,” he turned to you, his eyes burning with hatred, “You will be cursed to an eternal life, loveless and alone. You will remember this betrayal every waking moment for the rest of your existence, and you will never know peace again.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you did not flinch. The emperor’s voice rose like a storm. “You will watch him die, over and over, in your memory. And with every death you witness, you will be reminded that this is your doing. You will live forever, but you will die inside every day.”

With a gesture of his hand, the guards dragged Marcus away. His eyes never left yours, filled with an unspoken promise of love that neither time nor curse could take from you. You reached for him, your fingers grazing his as they pulled him further from you, his touch slipping away like sand between your fingers.

You screamed his name, but your voice was swallowed by the cold, empty hall. The weight of your brother’s words crashed down on you like a wave, and you fell to your knees. The curse had already begun.

The day of Marcus’s execution came far too soon.

They paraded him through the streets like a criminal, his once-glorious armor stripped from him, replaced with the rags of the condemned. The crowd jeered and spat, but you saw none of it. All you saw was Marcus, broken, yet still impossibly strong.

You stood at the front of the crowd, the place of honor reserved for the emperor’s family, forced to witness the final blow. As they prepared to end his life, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat screaming for you to do something, to save him.

But you were powerless.

Marcus turned his head toward you one last time, his eyes soft, filled with a love that had transcended the horror of the moment. His lips moved, forming words meant only for you.

“I will find you again.”

With that, the sword fell.

The world shattered around you. You dropped to your knees as the crowd roared with approval, but the noise was drowned out by the sound of your heart breaking. You clutched your chest, feeling the jagged pieces of your soul tearing at you, but the pain wasn’t enough to free you from the curse. You couldn’t escape. The curse wouldn’t let you.

You watched as Marcus’s body was dragged away, knowing you would never hold him again.

++

After Marcus’ death, you begin to experience your immortality firsthand. You don’t age, but the world around you does. At first, the pain is too great, and you isolate yourself, haunted by the memory of his final moments. You visit his grave every day, talking to him as if he were still alive.

There’s a sense of numbness, a hollow ache where his presence used to be. You realize the gravity of your curse the first time you notice gray hairs on the friends and people around you, but none on yourself. While others grow old and die, you remain the same, a constant in a world of change.

You slowly started to see the empire fall, and with it the death caught your family, one by one. Geta was the first, the middle of a family you now considered cursed. The, your mother and father met the same fate, and finally, Caracalla met death too, murdered by a soldier. He died without honor and he would be remembered as the cruelest imperator, you would make sure of it.

You were the only left from the fallen family, you could have saved the empire from breaking into pieces, but you weren’t going to sacrifice any second from your eternal life on it, so you erased yourself from Rome and from the history of it.

You left Rome behind, watching the city fall to ruin, its power crumbling with each passing year. The empire you had once known, that had been ruled by your family, was now a memory, a fading echo in the vastness of time. You no longer belonged there, and you had no desire to preserve what had been lost. The weight of your curse consumed you, drowning out any loyalty you might have once felt.

Instead, you wandered, drifting across continents and centuries. At first, you tried to hide, retreating to the furthest corners of the earth, away from people, away from the pain of watching those around you wither and die. Each new connection, each fleeting friendship, was a reminder of the man you could never forget, of Marcus's warm touch and his promise to find you again, unfulfilled.

But the world was relentless, and no matter how much you tried to isolate yourself, it continued to grow, to change. Civilizations rose and fell, each one leaving its mark on history, yet you remained untouched by time. You began to realize the truth of your brother’s curse, not just the eternity of your life, but the eternal loneliness that accompanied it.

The worst part wasn’t just the loss of your family or Marcus’s death; it was the fact that no matter where you went or how much time passed, you could never escape the memory of him. The grief was always there, lingering just beneath the surface, a shadow following you wherever you went. You carried the weight of his death, not just as a memory, but as an unending, crushing reality that haunted your dreams and your waking moments.

In the centuries that followed, you watched as kingdoms rose from the ashes of the Roman Empire. You saw the birth of new religions, new governments, new ways of thinking, but you remained on the outside, forever watching, forever unchanged. While others lived their lives, you were a ghost, slipping through the cracks of history, unnoticed and unseen.

But you could never forget Marcus. No matter how hard you tried to distance yourself from the pain, he was always there in your thoughts. His memory became your only companion, the one thing that time could never take from you. You told stories of him, of his strength, his courage, his love, but never revealed the truth. They were just tales to those who listened, history that no one could verify, but for you, they were the only way to keep his memory alive.

You returned to his grave as often as you could, though as the centuries passed, even that became more difficult. The world changed around you, the landscapes shifted, cities were built and destroyed, and the places you had once known became unfamiliar. His grave, once a sacred place for you, was lost to time. It was one of the last connections you had to him, and when it was gone, it felt as though a piece of you had been taken too.

There were moments when you tried to end your existence, hoping to find Marcus in the afterlife. You throw yourself into battles, attempt poison, even seek out dark magic, but nothing works. The curse prevented any harm from lasting.

The curse ensures that you never forget Marcus, his face, his touch, the sound of his voice. You find yourself returning to places that remind you of him, like the old battlefield where you first met, or the quiet corners of the palace where you shared stolen moments.

You often found yourself returning to places that held memories of Marcus. The battlefield where you first met, where he had caught your eye in the midst of the chaos, remained sacred to you. You would stand there, recalling the way your heart raced when he first spoke to you. The palace too, though long gone, remained vivid in your mind. You could still hear the echo of your laughter as you shared secret moments in the quiet corners, moments stolen from the prying eyes of the court.

But none of these memories could fill the void that had been left behind. You were a shell of who you had once been, and your existence was now defined by the absence of Marcus.

You became a witness, watching people fall in love, create families, grow old, and die. It was a cycle you had been denied, and it filled you with both longing and bitterness. The worst part of your immortality wasn't the endless life itself, it was the endless isolation, the inability to ever truly connect with anyone again.

In the present day, the weight of centuries finally began to take its toll. You had lived through empires, witnessed the birth of new nations, and seen countless lives come and go. Yet, no matter where you went or how much time passed, you remained haunted by Marcus’s memory. He was always there, a specter in your mind, the only constant in your immortal existence.

After wandering aimlessly for decades, you found yourself drawn to history once again, not just as a passive observer, but with a deep desire to preserve the past.

You were in a quiet bookstore, surrounded by shelves of dusty books. Your hands ran over the spines of history texts as you stopped at a volume about Ancient Rome. The familiar symbols, the names, even the dates of battles were etched in your mind like scars. You paused on a chapter dedicated to General Marcus Acacius, your Marcus. He was remembered as a hero, a man of honor, but the truth of his death, the betrayal, has been lost to history. You smiled at the thought that even Caracalla’s venom words, didn’t tinted Marcus’s name on history.

The memories fled back in an instant, the first time you saw Marcus commanding his troops, his fierce yet kind eyes, the way he smiled when no one else was looking. It was a painful nostalgia, one that made your chest tighten. You’ve avoided facing the truth about the Roman Empire for so long, unable to face the weight of those memories. But you realized now that telling Marcus’ story was the only way to keep him alive.

You left the bookstore, a decision already made in your heart. You would become a history teacher, and through your lessons, you would keep Marcus alive in a way that no curse could take from you.

At the first day in the classroom. The desks were arranged neatly, sunlight streaming through the windows, and your students were filing in. You stood at the front of the room; your hands rested on the chalkboard. It was strange, being back on an important role where you were meant to pass on knowledge. But for you, this was more than just education, it was a form of remembrance.

You felt a mixture of nerves. This was a chance to talk about Marcus again, to give him the honor he was stripped of in life. You weren’t sure if you were becoming crazy through this endless circle, and you didn’t know if you still were twisting the knife of endless memories you had of him, but you know that this was the closest you had been to him. As you students settled in, you introduce yourself, with a new of the thousand names you had had during your long life. You dove into your lecture about the Roman Empire. When you mentioned Marcus, your voice faltered just slightly, but you pressed on, determined to honor him in the only way left to you.

As you stood before your students, your mind wandered back to the times when you were with Marcus, the memories flooding in, unbidden but unstoppable. The classroom around you faded, and the vivid images of the Roman Empire took over. You were no longer in the present, but back in the heart of ancient Rome, standing beside him, your love, your general.

It was a warm summer evening in Rome. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in shades of deep orange and purple. You and Marcus were hidden away in a secluded corner of the palace, stealing a moment of peace amid the constant threat of discovery. His armor had been discarded, instead he was wearing his cloak as if it could erase the responsibility off his shoulders. In that moment, he was not a general, he was just Marcus, yours, the man you loved.

His hand brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. You had to be careful, even here. The walls had ears, and the court was always watching. But with him, you found yourself willing to take the risk. The world outside your bubble of stolen moments didn't matter. Not the empire, not your brother, not the looming consequences. Just Marcus.

"You should go," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "It's too dangerous."

But you shook your head, stepping closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I don't care," you whispered back, your heart racing. "Let them find out. Let the whole world know. I love you, Marcus."

He looked down at you, his dark eyes softening as they always did when he gazed at you. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I love you too," he said, his voice filled with the same intensity you had come to depend on, but laced with sorrow. "But your family will not be kind to us.”

You knew he was right. You both did. The affair was treason, a betrayal to the honor of your family, to your brother. But the pull between you was too strong, too undeniable. It had started innocently enough, during the long strategy meetings Marcus held with your brother. You had caught glimpses of him, and over time, those stolen glances had become longer, lingering. Before you knew it, you were sneaking away from the palace, meeting him in secret, hiding your love from the watchful eyes of Rome.

In that moment, though, none of it mattered. He leaned down and kissed you, softly at first, as if testing the boundaries of your defiance, then more passionately, as if the whole world could burn for all he cared. You melted into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the heat of the moment, your mind clouded by desire and the need to be close to him.

You snapped back to the present, your heart still racing as if you had just been pulled from Marcus’s arms. The students stared at you, waiting. You realized you had paused in the middle of your lecture, lost in the memory. Quickly, you cleared your throat, steadying your voice before continuing.

"General Marcus Acacius was one of the finest commanders Rome ever produced. He led with strength and honor, but..." you hesitated, a lump forming in your throat. "But history doesn’t always remember those who deserve it most. He died in dishonor, stripped of his title and his legacy.”

Your students watched you, unaware of the deep, personal meaning those words held for you. They were listening to a lesson, but you were recounting the loss of your greatest love.

And that’s how week after week, your lectures became more detailed. The students were captivated by your knowledge of the Roman Empire, unaware that you were telling them stories of your own life. When you spoke of the campaigns Marcus led, your tone softened, and the students sense the reverence in your words. They asked questions about him, and you answer with more care than you do for any other figure in Roman history.

Speaking about Marcus became a bittersweet ritual. You felt the same pain as you did centuries ago, but there was a strange comfort in saying his name aloud. With every story you tell, you feel like you were giving him a second life, bringing him back into the world if only for a moment. The students didn’t know it, but they were learning about a man who shaped you in ways that any book could never explain.

After class, you often sat alone in your office, a single lamp casting a dim glow. Old books of the Roman Empire were spread out before you, but your mind drifted away. You thought about the moments you shared with Marcus, the way he used to hold you after long days of battle, the whispered promises of a future that was stolen from you both.

The loneliness that had followed you for centuries still lingered, but teaching about him helped ease it, if only slightly. It was as though every time you speak his name, you were defying the curse, keeping his memory alive despite the gods’ punishment. But there were nights when the pain was too much, and you felt the weight of eternity pressing down on you. You wonder if Marcus could hear you, if somewhere, in some distant place, he knows you were still fighting to keep his honor intact.

It was late, the room lit only by the flicker of a single oil lamp. You were lying beside Marcus, the cool night seeping through the cracks of the window shutters. The war outside had raged on for weeks, but in this quiet moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.

His arm was draped across your waist, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over the back of your hand. His touch was gentle, a contrast to the hardened general the world saw. Here, with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. You shifted slightly, laying your head on his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

"You know we can't keep this up forever," he whispered, his voice thick with weariness and something more. Fear, perhaps. Or resignation.

You didn’t reply right away. You knew the truth of his words there was always the looming threat of discovery, of punishment. But in this moment, you wanted to pretend, just for a little longer, that the world outside didn’t exist. That this wasn’t forbidden. That you weren’t living on borrowed time.

He caressed your hand, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark reminder of the battles he fought, the sacrifices he made. "I would give it all up, you know," he continued, his voice soft, barely audible. "The empire, the glory, everything. Just to stay here with you."

Your heart twisted painfully at his words. You knew he meant them, and you wanted to believe in a future where such sacrifices could lead to a peaceful life together. But you both knew better. The weight of duty and the ever-watchful eyes of the emperor, your brother, were never far from your thoughts.

"You don't have to give up anything, Marcus," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek, guiding his gaze to yours. "I love you as you are. And for as long as we have, that will be enough for me."

But even as you said the words, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You had always known that the empire was a ruthless machine, and it would not allow your love to exist without a price. Still, you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, letting the kiss linger as though you could keep time at bay, as though you could stop the inevitable.

When you pulled away, Marcus smiled faintly, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "If only we could stay like this forever," he murmured.

You leaned back in your chair, the weight of eternity pressing down once again. Could Marcus hear you now? Could he feel your longing across the vast time? You didn’t know. But you hoped, no, you believed that somehow, somewhere, he still held you in his heart, just as you held him in yours.

One day, a student stayed behind after class, intrigued by the depth of your knowledge about Marcus Acacius. “It’s like you knew him,” she said, half-joking. “How do you know so much about his life? There’s not much written about him in the sources we have.”

For a moment, you’re taken aback. You’ve been careful to keep your personal connection to Marcus hidden, but the student’s words strike a chord. You felt the urge to tell her the truth, that you did know him, that you loved him, that you were cursed to live on without him. But instead, you smile softly and say, “I’ve studied him for a very long time. Some stories just stay with you.”

The student nodded, satisfied with your answer, but as she left, you felt a pang of longing. You wished, just once, you could tell someone the truth. But you know the world wasn’t ready for your story. It’s a secret you’ll carry alone.

As the years passed, teaching became your refuge. You taught more than just facts and dates, you taught the human side of history, the emotions and relationships that shaped the past. Through your stories, Marcus lived on in the minds of your students, and that gave you a small sense of peace.

The curse still lingered, and the pain of losing Marcus never would fade completely. But through your lectures, you’ve found a way to keep his memory alive. You couldn’t bring him back, but you could ensure that he was remembered, not as the man who was unjustly killed, but as the honorable general who loved you. In that way, you fought against the curse, turning your suffering into something meaningful.

One afternoon, as your students filled out of the classroom, you noticed one student lingering behind, gathering his things slowly. You've been watching him for a few weeks now, and it hasn’t escaped your attention that he always sat alone, quiet and withdrawn. His name was David, and though he never caused any disruptions, he seemed distant from the rest of the class, lost in thought, barely engaging with the lessons.

You decide it was time to reach out.

After the classroom emptied, you approached David as he slanged his backpack over one shoulder. His eyes remained downcast, and you sensed a heaviness about him, something familiar in the way he seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“David,” you said gently, “can I speak to you for a moment?”

He glanced up, surprised, but nodded. You gestured toward the front of the room, and he hesitantly followed you. The two of you sat across from each other, the quietness of the empty classroom made the moment more intimate.

You saw something familiar on him, soft brown eyes

You looked at David and felt a strange sense of recognition. His soft brown eyes held a weight that was all too familiar, reminding you of someone you had long ago lost. The resemblance was subtle, but it struck a chord deep within you, like an echo from a past you had tried to forget.

"Is everything alright?" you asked gently, hoping to break through the wall he had built around himself.

David shrugged, staring down at the desk in front of him. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, but you could tell from his tone that he wasn’t.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. “It’s okay if you're not. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He glanced up briefly, then away again, the silence between you heavy with unspoken thoughts. There was something more than just teenage angst weighing on him. Something deeper.

“Do you live with your parents?” you asked, thinking you could reach out to them, perhaps offer a meeting to better understand what was troubling him.

David shook his head slowly. “No, it’s just me and my dad.”

His words were like a key, unlocking a door that had remained sealed for centuries. The moment he mentioned his father, a strange chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t explain it, but something inside you shifted, as if the ground beneath your feet had suddenly become unstable.

Before you could ask another question, David continued. “He…he works a lot, doesn’t talk much about stuff. But he cares. I know he does.”

You nodded, sensing a familiar loneliness in his words, one that mirrored your own. “I’d like to meet him,” you said, though the idea stirred something unsettling within you. “Maybe we could have a talk, see if we can help you feel more connected here.”

David shrugged again but didn’t resist. “I guess. I’ll let him know.”

A few days later, you arranged for a meeting with David’s father. As the time approached, you couldn’t shake the unease that had settled into your bones since the conversation with David. There was something about him, about his eyes, his manners, that reminded you of Marcus in a way that felt impossible. But centuries had taught you that the impossible often had a way of finding you.

The classroom door creaked open, and you looked up from your desk. David walked in first, looking a bit anxious, followed by his father. The moment you saw him, your breath caught in your throat.

It was Marcus.

He stood there, lingering by the door, his eyes locking with yours. Though time had passed, and he appeared as someone entirely new, the essence of him, his presence, his soul, was unmistakable. He looked at you with a furrowed brow, as if trying to place you, the same soft brown eyes that had haunted your dreams staring back at you in the flesh.

He stepped in slowly, a tall man with broad shoulders, dark eyes, and a calm yet commanding presence. He looked almost exactly the same as he did all those centuries ago, his hair was streaked with gray, and there was a tiredness around his eyes, but the face, the face was unmistakable.

It was Marcus.

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, and for a split second, you felt dizzy, as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet. Memories fled back, so overwhelming it was as if you were living them all over again: his voice, his touch, the way he smiled at you in those quiet moments when no one else was around. Your throat tightened, your hands trembled, and you could barely breathe. You waited for centuries, living in the shadow of his absence, knowing he would never return to you. And yet, here he is.

You’re stared at a man who didn’t remember the life you shared. A man who looked like Marcus but had no idea of the love, the pain, the eternity you’ve endured without him.

He didn’t recognize you, of course. How could he? You’ve lived for centuries, unchanged, while he, he’d been given a new life, one free from the curse that bound you. He cleared his throat, clearly waiting for you to speak, and it was only then that you realize you’d been standing there, staring.

“Uh… I’m David’s father,” he says, extending a hand. His voice was deeper now, worn by time, but the tone. It was Marcus. It was him.

You forced yourself to take his hand, and the moment your fingers touched, the air in the room seemed to thin. The connection was immediate, electric, and your mind spun with the impossibility of what’s happening. You shook his hand, trying to steady yourself, trying to keep from falling apart.

“I’m… I’m David’s teacher,” you managed to say, your voice shaky. You gave him your name, though you were almost certain the sound of it, the familiarity of it, would spark something in him. But nothing. He was just a man, living an ordinary life, unaware of the past you shared.

He sat down across from you, unaware that this is the most surreal moment of your long, cursed life.

“David’s mentioned he’s been struggling,” he began, looking down at his son, and there was concern in his voice. “I’ve been worried about him. I thought maybe it had to do with his schoolwork.”

You forced yourself to focus, trying to push down the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. How could Marcus be here, sitting in front of you, unchanged yet completely different? He didn’t recognize you, he couldn’t. He had lived and died, while you had remained frozen in time. This man, David’s father, had no knowledge of the centuries of pain you had carried or the love you had lost.

“Yes, David has been a little distant,” you managed to say, your voice barely steady. You glanced at David, who sat quietly next to his father, unaware of the storm brewing inside you. “He��s a bright student, but I’ve noticed he’s been… struggling to engage.”

Marcus—no, not Marcus, David’s father—nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, we’ve had a rough few months,” he admitted, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’ve been working a lot, and it’s been just the two of us since his mother left. I think it’s been harder on him than I realized.”

The way he spoke, the cadence of his words, the soft concern in his voice, it was Marcus. Your heart ached with the familiarity of it, but the reality crashed down on you just as quickly. He didn’t know who you were. He didn’t remember anything about the life you had shared, about the love you had lost. To him, you were just another teacher, another stranger.

“I understand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice level. “Maybe we can work together to help him feel more connected. Sometimes, just having a consistent presence can make all the difference.”

As you spoke, your eyes couldn’t help but drift back to him, trying to reconcile the man sitting in front of you with the one who had held you centuries ago. He was so close and yet so impossibly far away. He had no memory of you, no recollection of the love that had once bound you together. It was both a blessing and a curse—he was free from the torment that had plagued you for centuries, but you were left alone in your knowledge of what you had once shared.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he said, glancing at David with a softness that made your chest tighten. “I want to make sure he’s okay. It’s been tough on both of us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This was your Marcus, but not your Marcus. He was a father now, concerned about his son, living a life you had never been a part of.

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that. You offered some advice, discussed possible ways to help David, but all the while, your thoughts were consumed by the impossibility of the situation. As they both left the room, Marcus lingered for a moment by the door, his eyes meeting yours once again.

“I appreciate you taking the time,” he said quietly. “I know it’s not easy, but… it means a lot.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice. “Of course.”

He gave you a small, almost hesitant smile before he turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. And then you were alone, the weight of your endless existence pressing down on you once more.

As you sat there, staring at the door through which he had just walked, you realized the cruel twist of fate you now faced. Marcus had been given another chance at life—a chance to live without the burden of the past, without the curse that had chained you to eternity. But you, you remained the same, trapped in an endless cycle of love and loss.

As you sat there in the quiet, the memories of Marcus flooded your mind—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you all those centuries ago. You were lost in the whirlwind of it when you suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Your heart quickened, and before you could even turn, you knew who it was.

David’s father-Marcus- stood in the doorway again, hesitating for a moment. His brow furrowed in thought, as though something was tugging at the edges of his consciousness, something familiar that he couldn’t quite place. He cleared his throat, and when you finally met his eyes, your heart nearly stopped.

“I know this might sound strange,” he begins, his voice softer now, uncertain. “But… have we met before?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. For centuries, you had dreamed of hearing those words, of him somehow remembering you, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know how to respond. How could you explain what was beyond comprehension? That you had loved him deeply, that you had lived lifetimes while he had been reborn, oblivious to the pain you still carried?

You forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside you. “I… I don’t think so,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

He looked at you closely, his eyes searching your face, as if trying to pull a long-forgotten memory to the surface. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—the curse wasn’t as strong as you thought. Maybe some part of him did remember.

“There’s just something familiar about you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture you remembered all too well. “It’s strange… like I’ve seen you before. Or… I don’t know.” He gave a sheepish laugh. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

You felt your breath catch. It would be so easy to tell him the truth, to give in to the temptation of finally revealing who you really were. But what good would that do? He was living a new life, and you had no place in it.

“Maybe we’ve crossed paths somewhere before,” you replied, your voice steadying even as your heart ached. “The world can be small like that.”

He nodded, but you could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at you. “Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate it.”

You nodded, offering him a smile that felt like a lie. “Of course. Take care.”

With that, he gave you one last look—one that made your chest tighten—and turned to leave. As his footsteps echoed down the hallway, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice in keeping the truth hidden.

For the first time in centuries, you weren’t sure what your future held. All you knew was that Marcus was out there again, living a life you could never be a part of. And once again, you were left with the memories, the only thing that time and the curse had not been able to take from you.

Alone in your office, the weight of eternity pressed down on you more heavily than ever before.

A few days passed, but the encounter with David’s father lingered in your mind like a ghost. You went through your routine, teaching classes, grading papers, keeping up the mask you had worn for centuries. But beneath the surface, the storm raged on. You could still feel the weight of his gaze, the unspoken recognition that had passed between you. He didn’t know the truth, but something inside him remembered.

Meanwhile, across the city, Marcus found himself wrestling with a strange, unshakable feeling. It had been there ever since he met you at the school, a persistent pull that gnawed at him in quiet moments. He tried to push it aside, rationalize it as nothing more than stress, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

At first, it was just small flashes—your face as you had looked at him, the way your voice had trembled ever so slightly when you spoke. There was something familiar about you, something that stirred a sense of déjà vu he couldn’t explain. And then, the dreams began.

They started out hazy at first, fragments of images that disappeared as soon as he woke. A battlefield, the clash of swords, and always…you. Standing there in the distance, watching him. He couldn’t make sense of it, and every morning he woke with the same unsettled feeling gnawing at him.

It got worse with each passing day. He found himself driving by the school on his way to work, glancing at the building as if he might see you standing there. He caught himself wondering what you were doing, if you remembered him in some strange way too. It didn’t make sense, but the pull was real, undeniable.

One night, after tossing and turning in bed, Marcus sat up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The dreams had returned again, this time more vivid than ever. In them, you had been lying beside him, your fingers intertwined with his as he whispered something he couldn’t quite remember. The sensation was so real, so intense, that he had woken with his heart racing, the image of your face burned into his mind.

He couldn’t keep ignoring it.

The next day, after dropping David off at school, Marcus found himself walking back to the classroom where he had first met you. He didn’t have a clear plan, only a need to see you again, to understand why this strange connection existed between the two of you.

When he arrived, he stood outside the door, hesitating for a moment. What would he even say? He didn’t know if he was ready for whatever this was, or if you would even feel the same pull. But the need to know, to see you, overpowered the doubts.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly on the door and waited.

Inside the classroom, you had been in the middle of organizing papers when the knock startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, and your heart leapt in your chest at the possibility that it could be him. You took a deep breath before opening the door, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

When you saw Marcus standing there, his familiar brown eyes looking at you with that same confusion and intensity, you knew this moment had been coming. His presence was overwhelming, and for a brief moment, it was as if centuries fell away and you were back in that palace with him, before the curse, before the loss.

“I’m sorry for dropping by like this,” he said, his voice softer than you remembered, though the same cadence was there. “I just… I’ve been thinking about our meeting the other day. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something—”

He trailed off, searching for the right words, clearly struggling to articulate the pull he was feeling.

You stood there, your heart pounding, knowing that this conversation was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something you couldn’t fully control.

“Something familiar?” you finished for him, your voice almost a whisper.

His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah. Exactly that.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “I know it sounds crazy, but since I met you, it’s like I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I keep having these…dreams, and it doesn’t make any sense, but it feels like I’ve known you before.”

Your heart pounded at his words, the weight of centuries crashing down on you all at once. His admission felt like a thread connecting the past to the present, something fragile and dangerous. You had never expected this—Marcus remembering, even if only in fragmented dreams. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the confusion he was trying so hard to make sense of.

You tried to steady your breath, knowing you couldn’t tell him the truth, not yet. It would unravel everything. But his presence, the way he looked at you as if he had known you for lifetimes, made it impossible to keep your emotions in check.

“I’m sure it’s just… coincidence,” you said softly, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. “People get those feelings sometimes, don’t they? Like they’ve met someone before.”

He studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing. “Maybe.” But he didn’t sound convinced. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s not just that. It’s something more. And I don’t understand why, but I feel like… I should know you. Like I’m supposed to know you.”

Your pulse quickened. It was dangerous, this line you were walking. If he kept pushing, if he kept searching for answers, the curse could be exposed. Yet, the way his eyes searched yours made your resolve falter. It was Marcus standing before you, but not the Marcus you had known. This was a man who had been granted a new life, free from the past that had chained you both.

“I’m just a teacher,” you said, forcing a small smile. “We only met a few days ago.”

He nodded, but the crease between his brows deepened, as if he was debating with himself, wrestling with whether to leave things be or push further. He took another breath, as though on the verge of saying something else, but then stopped himself, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said, almost to himself, his voice low, hesitant. “But… would you like to get coffee sometime? I mean, not as David’s teacher, but just as… us.”

The question hung in the air between you, and you felt the ground shift beneath your feet. You had lived through countless lives, avoided countless connections, and yet here was Marcus, in this new form, asking you to start something again. It was as if fate was daring you to test the boundaries of the curse.

You hesitated, your heart torn between the longing you had carried for centuries and the knowledge that this was a path filled with danger. If he remembered more, if the past began to bleed into the present, what would that mean for him—for both of you?

“I…” You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

His face fell slightly, disappointment flickering in his eyes. But then he smiled, trying to mask it. “I get it. I just—there’s something about you…”

Your chest tightened at his words. He was offering you an out, a way to walk away from this, to keep the curse at bay. But deep down, the thought of letting him go again, of walking away from the man you had loved for centuries, felt unbearable.

“I’ll think about it,” you whispered, almost afraid of your own answer.

He nodded, offering you a small, understanding smile. “Take your time.” His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, searching for something he couldn’t quite find. “I’ll see you around.”

And then, he turned to leave, the weight of his unspoken questions hanging in the air like a ghost. You watched him go, your heart aching with the knowledge that fate was once again drawing you both into its web.

The door closed behind him, and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. This was only the beginning, and you knew it. The past had a way of finding you, no matter how much time had passed.

A few days later, the school hosted a parent-teacher meeting. The hallways buzzed with the low hum of voices, the shuffle of papers, and the occasional sound of children darting between classrooms. You had prepared for a busy evening, but the thought of seeing Marcus again lingered in the back of your mind, an undercurrent to everything else.

You were speaking with another parent when, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of him. He was standing near the entrance, casually scanning the room. For a moment, he looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed in that familiar way that tugged at your heart. And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes met yours.

The world seemed to pause.

The warmth of his smile was immediate, softening his features in a way that was both disarming and comforting. It was as though, in that brief moment, everything else in the room faded away. The connection between you, the pull that had been simmering beneath the surface since that first meeting, was undeniable. His eyes lingered on you, full of recognition that he couldn’t quite place, yet something deep inside of him understood.

As the conversation with the other parent wrapped up, you felt Marcus slowly making his way toward you, weaving through the crowded room. Your heart raced, knowing that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t be able to pretend that the past didn’t exist—not for much longer.

“Hi,” he greeted you, his voice warm and easy as he stopped in front of you.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely steady as you met his gaze.

He glanced around briefly before looking back at you. “Busy night?”

You nodded, the weight of the moment making it hard to find words. “Yeah. A lot of parents to talk to.”

Marcus gave a small chuckle. “I guess I’m one of them.” But the tone of his voice suggested he had more in mind than just the usual parent-teacher talk. His eyes searched yours again, that same sense of familiarity clouding his expression.

“You’ve been on my mind,” he admitted softly, leaning in just enough so that his words wouldn’t be overheard by anyone else. “I know it’s probably crazy, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the other day. And… about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your chest tightening at his words. He was so close now, and you could feel the intensity radiating off him, the same intensity that had bound you together in another life.

“I…” You hesitated, knowing the danger in getting too close, in letting yourself fall into the old patterns. But something in the way he looked at you, the softness in his expression, made it impossible to resist. “I’ve been thinking about it too.”

His smile grew, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the same battle he was fighting inside himself—the inexplicable connection, the way the past seemed to bleed into the present even though he couldn’t understand why.

“I know we’re at a parent-teacher meeting,” he said, his voice a bit lower now, “but maybe after this, we could grab that coffee? Well, we could make it, a dinner. I’m still trying to make sense of this, of what I’m feeling, and I’d really like to talk to you… if you’re open to it.”

Your heart ached at the question, knowing that whatever happened, this was Marcus reaching out to you again, even if he didn’t remember the lives you had shared. You felt the weight of the curse pressing down on you, but for the first time in centuries, the idea of keeping your distance felt unbearable.

“I’d like that,” you said, surprising yourself with how easily the words came out.

His eyes lit up at your response, and he smiled again, this time a bit more confidently. “Great. I’ll wait for you after the meeting.”

And with that, he gave you a nod before moving off to join the other parents, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding with anticipation, fear, and hope all at once. You knew this meeting would be the beginning of something far more complicated than either of you could imagine.

++

The rest of the parent-teacher meeting passed in a blur. You were aware of the conversations happening around you, but your mind was somewhere else—focused on what was to come. Marcus had invited you for dinner, a simple gesture that felt monumental in the context of your tangled past. Every minute felt heavier with anticipation, knowing that after so many lifetimes of loss, this was your chance to be near him again, even if he didn’t remember.

When the meeting finally ended, you gathered your things and made your way toward the entrance. You spotted Marcus waiting by the doors, hands in his pockets, eyes searching the crowd. As soon as he saw you, that familiar warmth spread across his face, and for a moment, it was like stepping back in time.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something deeper.

You nodded, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah, ready.”

Together, you made your way out to the parking lot. David was waiting by their car, playing with a small toy in his hands. When he saw you walking with his father, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Dad?” David asked, looking between the two of you. “Why’s my teacher coming with us?”

Marcus glanced down at his son, his smile never wavering as he reached over and tousled David’s hair. “She’s joining us for dinner tonight,” he explained lightly. “I wanted to say thank you for helping out with everything.”

David’s eyes widened, and he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and surprise. “Oh… okay,” he said slowly, clearly trying to process this new development. “So, like, you’re friends with my dad?”

You exchanged a quick glance with Marcus, both of you sharing a silent understanding of how complicated the truth really was.

“Something like that,” you answered with a gentle smile. “We’re just going to have dinner and talk about how to help you in school.”

David seemed to accept this explanation for now, though his gaze lingered on you a little longer before he climbed into the car. As you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts were swirling. You were entering Marcus’s home, a place that was both familiar and foreign to him—a life he had built without any memory of you.

The drive to their house was quiet, but the tension between you and Marcus was palpable. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you, as if he were trying to piece something together, to understand why he felt this pull toward you.

When you arrived at their home, Marcus led you inside. It was cozy, filled with the warmth of a lived-in space—family photos, toys scattered across the living room floor, the faint smell of something cooking. It was so different from the life you had known with him centuries ago, yet the sense of care and love was the same.

“Make yourself at home,” Marcus said, gesturing to the living room. “I’ll get dinner started. David, why don’t you help me set the table?”

David nodded and followed his father into the kitchen, but not before giving you one more curious glance. You settled onto the couch, feeling out of place and yet strangely at ease. This was Marcus’s life now, a life you had never been a part of, but somehow it still felt like home.

As they busied themselves in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think about the enormity of what was happening. You were here, in his home, sharing a moment that felt so normal and yet carried the weight of centuries. It was a bittersweet reminder of everything you had lost and everything you still longed for.

After a few minutes, Marcus emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, his voice soft. “Thanks for… well, for coming. I know it’s kind of last minute.”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “It’s fine. I’m happy to be here.”

He sat down across from you, leaning forward slightly, his expression thoughtful. “I meant what I said earlier. There’s something about you… something I can’t explain.” His voice was quieter now, as though he was sharing a secret. “It’s like I’ve known you forever, but I don’t know how or why.”

Your heart ached at his words, the familiar pain of your curse tugging at you. He was so close, yet so far from remembering the life you had shared. But in this moment, it was enough just to be here, to feel his presence again.

Dinner passed in a warm haze, filled with laughter and the comforting sounds of family. You enjoyed every bite, trying to savor the moment as Marcus shared stories about David's antics at school, his love for art, and the curious questions he had been asking lately. You felt a genuine connection growing, like the threads of your past weaving together with the present.

Once dinner was finished, David excused himself, yawning as he dragged his feet toward the living room. "I'm too tired to finish my project," he declared, and Marcus smiled, understanding that he was ready for bed.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you settled,” Marcus said, ruffling his son’s hair as David headed up the stairs. After a few moments, you heard the soft sound of David’s door closing, followed by the gentle hum of a lullaby drifting down the hall.

With David tucked in, Marcus returned to the living room, a comfortable silence settling between you. He sank into the armchair across from you, and you both took a moment to collect your thoughts.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “I didn’t expect to enjoy it so much.”

“I’m glad you did,” you replied, feeling your heart race under his gaze. “I had a great time.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look crossing his face. “David has been talking about your lessons a lot lately. He’s become really obsessed with the Roman Empire.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Really? That’s amazing to hear! What does he say?”

“Well,” Marcus chuckled softly, “he keeps mentioning this General Acacius as his hero. Apparently, he thinks it’s so cool that he’s a general and a fighter at the same time. I think he thinks he’s going to become a gladiator or something,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully.

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name. “Marcus Acacius? He’s a fascinating figure in history. He had a complex life—fighting for honor and trying to navigate the politics of his time.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You really know your stuff, don’t you? It sounds like you’ve done quite a bit of research for your lessons.”

“I’ve always been passionate about history,” you admitted, feeling a warmth spread in your chest as you talked about your favorite subject. “Especially the stories of strong figures like him. I believe there’s so much we can learn from the past.”

“Do you think David sees himself in Acacius?” Marcus asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely interested in your opinion.

“Perhaps,” you replied thoughtfully. “Or maybe he sees a bit of him in you” you said.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, surprise etched across his face. “In me?”

“Absolutely,” you continued, feeling the words flow more easily now. “You’re a dedicated father, and you fight for what’s best for your son, just like Acacius fought for his people. The way you support David, always encouraging his interests and nurturing his passions—that's heroic in its own right.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his features. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I just try to do my best for him.”

“Exactly,” you said, leaning in a little closer. “Being a hero isn’t just about great battles or glory; it’s also about the everyday moments—the sacrifices we make for the ones we love. That’s what really matters.”

Marcus’s gaze softened as he listened, and you could see him processing your words. “I guess I can see that. I want David to grow up feeling strong and capable, like he can achieve anything he sets his mind to.”

“And you’re doing just that,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration for him. “He looks up to you, Marcus. Your presence in his life is already making a huge difference.”

The weight of his vulnerability hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt as if the world outside faded away. “You know, I never realized how much I needed this conversation until now,” he said, a genuine smile gracing his lips. “It’s refreshing to talk to someone who understands what it means to teach and inspire.”

“I’m glad,” you replied, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

Marcus nodded; his expression thoughtful. “Speaking of which, I actually bought a book for David the other day. It’s about Marcus Acacius—the general. I thought he might enjoy reading about a real-life hero.”

Your heart raced at the mention of the name, the connection striking a chord deep within you. “Really? I’d love to see it,” you said, your curiosity piqued.

With a spark of excitement, Marcus stood and walked toward a nearby bookshelf, scanning the titles. He pulled out a well-worn book, its cover faded but the spine intact. As he handed it to you, he said, “I thought it would be a great way to inspire him. The stories of bravery and leadership are so important, especially now.”

You opened the book and began flipping through the pages, the illustrations of ancient battles and heroic deeds instantly drawing you in. “This is wonderful, Marcus,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “David will love this.”

“I hope so,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you, watching your reaction with a mix of anticipation and pride.

As you admired the illustrations, Marcus leaned closer to look at the page you were on, his shoulder brushing against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were back in another life, lost in a world where everything was simpler.

“This page really captures the spirit of what it means to be a hero,” you began, your voice soft yet earnest. “You know, once upon a time, a hero like Marcus Acacius fought not just for glory but for the love of those he held dear. It reminds me of the bond they shared—how love can be as powerful as any sword or shield.”

Your words hung in the air, the weight of history resonating in the silence between you. You continued, feeling emboldened by the moment. “In many ways, that love is what drove him, just as it drove someone else in a different time—someone who used to call her, mi dulce Cara’”

You glanced over at Marcus, watching as his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise. His eyes widened slightly, and he turned to face you fully. “What? How do you know that?”

The question echoed in the quiet room, and your heart raced at the realization of what you had just revealed. It was a nickname that only he had used, a term of endearment from a time long past, one that had been buried under centuries of memories and pain.

“I—” you hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. “I guess I’ve always felt a connection to that name. It… it just came to me.”

Marcus studied you intensely, searching your eyes for answers. “But that have never been mentioned that to anyone. How could you know?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized how the truth was slipping through your fingers, how deeply you yearned for him to remember. “Sometimes, memories linger in the air, even when we think they’re lost,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s like a whisper from the past.”

He looked at you, a mixture of confusion and intrigue swirling in his gaze. “A whisper?”

“Something like that,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “Maybe it’s just… a feeling, or a part of a dream I once had. I can’t explain it, Marcus.”

The two of you sat there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. You could sense the gravity of the moment, the delicate thread that connected your past with the present, and you couldn’t help but hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something that could bridge the gap between who you had been and who you were now.

Marcus leaned closer, his gaze intense and searching. “Dulce cara mia,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I spent years looking out for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as the familiar phrase hung in the air, a sweet reminder of the bond you once shared. It felt as if the walls between your past and present were beginning to crumble, allowing the sunlight of long-buried emotions to seep through.

“Wait… you remember that?” you asked, your voice barely a breath.

His words were a balm to your soul, igniting a flame of hope that you had thought long extinguished. “How could I forget about you, my love?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I've lived a thousand lives trying to find you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the weight of his confession settled over you like a comforting blanket. “You really mean that?” you asked, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Every word,” he replied, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. “Even in this life, it felt as if something was missing. A part of me always knew you were out there, waiting for me.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his admission, the love that had been lost in the ages flooding back to you. “I thought I would never find you again,” you whispered, your heart aching with the bittersweet pain of your shared history. “I thought the curse would keep us apart forever.”

Marcus shook his head, his expression fierce. “No curse can hold us back. It may take a thousand lifetimes, but we always find each other. Always.”

His gaze bore into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race. The air around you felt charged with emotion, and you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down like the world had paused just for you two.

“Every word,” he reiterated softly, nodding as he leaned in closer. The distance between you evaporated, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering against your skin. “I’ve missed you, cara,” he murmured, using that endearing name that sent shivers down your spine.

As he inched closer, the warmth radiating from him enveloped you like a comforting embrace. “I’ve spent so long searching for you,” he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “And now that I’ve found you again… I never want to let you go.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and the tension in the air seemed to pulse with life. It felt as though everything around you faded into the background—the world, the past, the curse—all that mattered was this moment, this connection.

“Marcus,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you leaned in, craving the touch of his lips against yours.

But then, just before your lips met, he pulled back slightly, searching your eyes with a mixture of longing and caution. “I won’t rush this. I want to savor every moment we have, to make it count.”

You nodded, your heart pounding as you took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the reality of this second chance. “I want that too,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

++++++

You were standing in the dimly lit corridors of the palace; the cold stone walls a stark contrast to the warmth you felt whenever Marcus was nearby. The sounds of soldiers and servants echoed faintly in the distance, but here, in this hidden alcove, the world felt small and intimate. Marcus had pulled you into the shadows, his hand firm but gentle on your arm, his eyes filled with the same intensity they held now.

“We must be careful,” you had whispered, your breath catching as he leaned in close, the smell of leather and sandalwood surrounding you. “If anyone sees us…”

But Marcus had silenced your worries with a soft kiss, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made your heart skip. “I would fight the whole empire if it meant being with you.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

His words had sent a thrill through you, but you both knew the risks. You were not just any woman; you were the emperor’s sister, and Marcus was the empire’s fiercest general. Your love, while passionate and real, was forbidden—an act of treason in the eyes of those who held power over you.

Yet, none of that mattered when you were in his arms.

“I can’t stay away from you,” Marcus had whispered against your skin, his lips brushing the curve of your neck as he held you close. “Every moment I’m not with you feels like torture.”

You had smiled then, your hands tangling in his dark curls, pulling him closer, as if you could keep him with you forever. “We will find a way,” you had promised, though neither of you knew how. “We’ll be together, one day.”

For now, stolen kisses and secret embraces were all you had, and in those moments, it felt like enough. The weight of your circumstances melted away, leaving only the raw, unshakable truth of your love.

As Marcus kissed you again, more urgently this time, the world outside your alcove seemed to disappear. His hands traced the familiar lines of your body, and you clung to him, desperate to make the moment last, knowing it would be hours—maybe days—before you could find each other again.

“I love you,” he had breathed into your ear, his voice filled with the kind of vulnerability only you ever saw. “In this life and every life to come, Cara Mia.”

++++++

As the memory faded, you were pulled back into the present, Marcus still inches away, his intense gaze fixed on you. The warmth of that ancient kiss lingered between you, and the weight of the moment felt just as powerful now as it had back then.

His hand, still gently resting on your cheek, was real, solid, warm, and the centuries that had separated you seemed to dissolve in the space between your shared breath. The flicker of recognition deepened in his eyes, and you saw it, the understanding, the knowing.

“Cara,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been searching for you in every life. And now, here you are, right in front of me.”

You could hardly breathe, the intensity of his presence overwhelming. “Marcus,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “All this time… it’s been you. I knew it, I felt it.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “I never forgot. Even when the memories were blurry, even when I didn’t understand… something inside me always knew.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I met many women during my life, but it was always you. I was always looking for you.”

the years of searching, of waiting, finally melting away. You could feel his love, not just from this life, but from the countless lifetimes before. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

“I won’t lose you again,” he whispered, his voice filled with the determination of a man who had lived a thousand lives in search of one thing, one person.

You closed your eyes, a rush of emotion flooding through you, knowing that, this time, neither of you would have to live without the other.

the reality of your curse loomed at the back of your mind, like a shadow waiting to resurface. You opened your eyes slowly, pulling back just enough to look into Marcus’s eyes. The intensity was still there, but now, mixed with something else—worry, doubt.

“But what about the curse?” you asked softly, your voice trembling with the weight of the question. “We’ve found each other again, but… what if it’s not enough? What if we’re torn apart, just like all the other times?”

“I Will break it” he said, sealing a promise.

Marcus’s words hung in the air, a declaration so filled with determination that it made your heart ache with both hope and fear. His hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the moment as he repeated, “I will break it.”

You stared at him, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all you saw was a fierce resolve—a promise he intended to keep, no matter the cost. The weight of his vow pressed down on you, the enormity of the task, the centuries of separation, all coming to the forefront of your mind. “How?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “How can you break something that has kept us apart for so long?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus admitted, his voice unwavering. “But I do know that I’m not the same man I was before. None of those lifetimes matter without you by my side, and I will tear down the heavens if I have to, to keep you with me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of his love for you overwhelming. You could feel the fear still lurking beneath the surface, the fear that no matter how much you wanted this, how hard you fought, the curse would come between you once again. But something in the way Marcus looked at you, the absolute certainty in his gaze, made you want to believe him.

“And if we fail?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath, the question slipping out despite yourself. “What if we can’t break it?”

Marcus shook his head, gently cupping your face in his hands. “We won’t fail,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Because this time, I’m not letting you go. I’m not letting anything stand between us. I’ll break the curse or die trying.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, the promise of his love wrapping around you like a shield. For the first time in centuries, you allowed yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, this time could be different.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, breaking the heavy tension that had settled between you. “People will talk again,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “That hasn’t changed.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up, a playful glint dancing behind the intensity of his gaze. “Let them talk,” he said with a shrug, his voice full of warmth and mischief. “They’ve been talking about us for centuries. Let them have something real to talk about this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the lingering shadows of fear and doubt. It was a familiar feeling, this lightness that always seemed to come when you were with him, no matter how dire the circumstances. In a world that constantly threatened to tear you apart, these moments of shared joy felt like a rebellion, a testament to the strength of your bond.

“They’re going to say I’ve bewitched you,” you teased, leaning in a little closer, savoring the warmth of his presence. “Or that you’ve gone mad.”

Marcus grinned, his thumb still gently caressing your cheek. “Maybe I have,” he said, his voice low and full of affection. “Mad with love for you.”

You rested your forehead against his once more, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “Let them talk, then. As long as we have this, as long as we have each other, none of it matters.”

Marcus’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “Forever,” he whispered back, sealing the promise between you with a tender kiss.

You kissed him as though every single one of the lifetimes you had lived without him was pouring into this one moment. The touch of his lips against yours ignited something deep within you—a longing, a love, that had spanned centuries. All the heartache, all the searching, all the endless years of waiting melted away as you gave yourself fully to the kiss.

Marcus held you like he had done a thousand times before, but this time, it was different. This time, the kiss was filled with the knowledge that you had found each other again, that no matter what came next, you were together now. His hands traced the curve of your back, pulling you closer as if he were afraid you might disappear again.

You could feel the weight of all those years, all the love that had been lost and found again, in every movement, in every breath. His kiss was not just a promise but a reminder—a reminder of all the times he had loved you, all the moments you had shared in different lives, and all the moments you had missed. And now, here, you were living them all again.

When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in shallow gasps, you stared into his eyes, searching for the same fire you knew was burning inside you. It was there—strong, unwavering, eternal. “I’ve waited lifetimes for you,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “And I’d wait a thousand more if it meant I could be with you like this.”

Marcus’s gaze softened, and his fingers brushed tenderly against your jawline. “You won’t have to wait anymore,” he said, his voice steady and filled with love.

After the kiss, you found yourself in front of a mirror, your fingers lightly brushing over your lips, still tingling from the touch of his. The room was quiet now, the world beyond the two of you seemed distant, as though the very air had stilled to give you space for this moment. As you gazed at your reflection, a glimmer caught your eye.

There, among the strands of your hair, was a single grey hair. You reached up, gently twisting it between your fingers, a realization dawning on you with a surge of emotion. The curse. All those lifetimes, the endless cycle of living and dying, never aging, never truly being free… It was broken.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you had changed. The grey hair was proof—proof that time, real time, had touched you. Proof that you were no longer trapped in the endless loop of waiting, searching, and losing Marcus again and again.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you stared at the grey hair, a smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t a sign of loss or fear, but of life—of the future you could now build together. The weight of your immortality, the curse that had kept you apart, had lifted.

Marcus’s reflection appeared behind you in the mirror, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity. He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, his warmth grounding you in this new reality. “You see it too, don’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to stop the tears from welling up. “It’s broken, Marcus. We’re free.”

His arms slid around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, the sound of it a reminder that you were no longer bound by the past. “I told you,” he whispered against your hair. “No curse can keep us apart.”

[cosmerelists]

If Stormlight Characters Read The Stormlight Archive

As requested by @imtheseventh :)

Let's say Stormlight Characters got their hands on The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson--you know, the book written about all of their lives. What would they think of Sanderson's depiction of them?

[SPOILERS FOR STORMLIGHT ARCHIVE THROUGH RHYTHM OF WAR!]

1. Navani

Navani: Say, Dalinar... Navani: Why is Evi's name replaced by Shshsh in all of your POV chapters? Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Ah, so here's the thing...

2. Adolin

Adolin: Shallan, wait! Adolin: This is feeling like a flashback chapter about your life. Adolin: Don't read it to me. It feels weird to find out this way. Adolin: I'd rather wait until you're ready to tell me. Shallan: Ah, so you want to stop listening whenever my past comes up? Shallan: That's exactly what I used to do! High five! Adolin: I don't Adolin: I don't know that this is a high-five moment.

3. Shallan

Shallan: L-Listen, Jasnah... Shallan: I SWEAR I was neither thinking about nor looking at your boobs quite as much as the book makes it sound.. Shallan: I think this Sanderson guy was just projecting! Jasnah: I believe you, Shallan. Shallan: Y-You do? Jasnah: I have to assume he wanted to establish my beauty but felt that it would be less salacious to have it filtered through another woman's perspective. Shallan: Y-Yeah, that makes sense... Jasnah: After all, if you loved my boobs that much, I don't know why you sat there and doodled Captain Kaladin instead of them... Shallan: WHELP TIME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT

4. Syl

Syl: ... Kaladin: Hey, are you okay? You seem...down. Kaladin: And are you wearing trousers?? Syl: Was...was there something wrong in how I dressed? Kaladin: No? What do you mean? Syl: Like, was it immature? Kaladin: No? Syl: Then why does this Brandon guy call my dress "girlish" like 19 billion times?!? Hoid: Oh, don't worry about that! Writers get weirdly fixated on words! At least you weren't always doing things maladroitly, ha! Syl: ...What? Hoid: Whoops wrong series!

5. Gaz

Gaz: Look...I know I wasn't the Almighty's most perfect guy, but.. Gaz: Could he maybe have written me as slightly LESS of the embodiment of a sniveling cremling?? Gaz: Like, give a guy a break! Vathah: What, too much realism for a fantasy? Gaz: You shut up!

6. Sadeas

Sadeas: I was so upset...so flabbergasted...when Dalinar outmaneuvered me in that disadvantaged duel... Sadeas: But it was all just LUCK?! Sadeas: He didn't maneuver for SHIT! Sadeas: He just happened to have EVERY SINGLE PERSON WITH SUPERPOWERS on his side and they were ALL stupid enough to get INVOLVED Sadeas: It's so much worse now!!! Ialai: At least their dark-eyed captain ruined it at the end. Sadeas: Ugh, yeah, thank the stars for THAT.

7. Kaladin

Kaladin: I actually hate this. Lyn: Why? Kaladin: Hearing about all my friends dying...again...having my actions framed as some type of "heroism"... Kaladin: T-That guy writes me like I'm the hero! Lyn: ...I am fairly certain that you are. Kaladin: Ughhhh...

8. Lirin & Hesina

The Way of Kings sits before them Hesina: ... Lirin: ... Hesina: ... Lirin: ... Hesina: Do you want to go & cry forever over our boys? Lirin: Yes please.

9. Moash

Moash: Wow. Moash: After hearing all about King Elhokar from the perspective of the people who actually like him... Moash: I gotta say... Moash: I was totally right! Moash: That guy is SUCH an asshole!

10. Dalinar

Dalinar: ... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: I just can't believe that he STOLE Nohadon’s TITLE.

11. (!) Bonus Vin

Vin: KELSIER WHAT THE HELL

[ezra-editss]

Just watched X-men Apocalypse. What the hell.

Okay, so I kinda have a take on all this and idk if that's just how it feels to me, but that's what I wanna know. (I don't think this actually happened, but it's the vibes it is all giving)

So it started when I told my mom about First Class (keep reading I'm gonna get to apocalypse eventually) and we came to the conclusion that it feels like they wrote the script, looked at it again and thought:

"Hmm, this seems pretty gay.. Erik and Charles both have no female love interests and they have those lines that seem pretty romantic. Also, Erik seems almost obsessed with Charles at the end with how overprotective he is. Let's fix that!"

And then they gave both of them a kiss with a woman they weren't interested in and added the line "We're brothers, you and I" and then were proud of how well they "saved" it.

And then they made Days of Future Past and didn't even think of it, but when it came out they saw how people were shipping it and then they were like "oh shitt"

And in the first hour of the movie, I thought they were just doing all of this stuff to "erase" any potential gayness people thought there was and wanted to make sure nobody got the wrong idea about the recent movies. But it was more the reminder they like women, before the EXTREME GAYNESS in the second half.

(This is getting so much more unserious than initially intended💀)

Anyways, Apocalypse.

Either I missed something or Erik settling down and HIDING makes NO SENSE. In the last timeline it was 100% clear that he'd never stop believing in what he did, he would never stop fighting his war. So yes, this is a different timeline, but there is no reason given why he suddenly decides to try Charles way. He failed in Days of Future Past and Charles let him go, but there is no way that's enough. And they played this off like that isn't the thing they both wanted since forever and never seemed possible. Being on the same side. Erik switching to Charles side is insane, why wouldn't he talk to Charles in all those years then?

I can't believe they threw away everything that IS Erik, just so he had a reason to be angry enough to join the guy.

(They also died in such a weird/lame way)

And Charles and I still don't really know her name😭.. I have to admit the scenes where Charles was nervous were cute, but that's just because Charles is adorable. But in First Class she was obviously only there for the plot, in Days of Future Past, she wasn't even mentioned and in Apocalypse, she was, again, only there for the plot. She literally doesn't say anything the entire movie after the beginning. She has like two lines. And in the end fight, she's just standing there. And then Charles makes her remember and the flashbacks are soo bad, BC THEY HAD NO MOMENTS. (Especially bc you can compare it to Erik's flashbacks, we're gonna get to that)

(I don't think I have to say it, but to be sure. I have absolutely nothing against straight couples. I don't care if it's gay or not. But if one of them were a woman, I wouldn't be writing this. I just hate how often they prefer to write a heterosexual couple that has no chemistry at all instead of making the two guys/girls kiss.)

Let's talk about the ending. Sometimes when I talk about this stuff I'm a little worried that I interpret things wrong bc I want it to be like that and I'm not being objective anymore, but I was proven right so many times in this. When Mystique and Erik kissed in First Class, it felt really weird to me because Erik obviously had no interest in her. (I suppose it was to show her she's beautiful) And that was pretty much proven right when she talks to him and he barely reacts to what she's saying. I also thought that he probably didn't know Charles was dying, bc he wouldn't let that happen. Then Mystique says "Charles" and suddenly he does show a reaction and when she's gone, he has those god damn flashbacks. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T A ROMANTIC PLOT?😭 and then the specific one of Charles turning away and leaving him. (Could be a metaphor for Charles giving up on him) THAT'S WHAT GOT HIM.

And they make it even more clear when Mystique is dying and Erik doesn't react, but when Charles is dying, is when he steps in.

Ending was cute, but damnn the "you can make me do anything" was crazy.

(This turned out soo long, I've never been so obsessed with something.)

[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀: 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝔾𝕠 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Even in your state, memories of your past can't help but flood your subconscious, as Neteyam has a conversation with his father that will change the way he's viewed the last seven years of his life.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death), strong language.

wc: 6.8k words

a/n: this chapter was written to pretty much be a mirror of last chapter, with the same concept of flashbacks vs present time, except this time we get to see Vi's memories from the 7 years they hated each other, which will hopefully provide context for why Neteyam's hatred doesn't only stem from that fateful conversation he overheard, but also from her petty, vindictive actions, that only grew as time went on. i hope you enjoy this chapter, besties (i feel very insecure about it so pls go easy on me, i'm still recovering hahaha) x there's only two chapters left, and i'm already sad about this story coming to an end, but i hope you enjoyed the ride. pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

Neteyam hasn’t blinked since the accident, it feels. He definitely hasn't blinked since he did last, when you opened your eyes and then closed them again, never to be opened since. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why it matters so much that he stays so acutely present and aware, so that his eyes are locked onto your sleeping frame, doesn’t know why the thought of falling asleep and missing you, missing your eyes fluttering open or staying shut forever hurts him so beyond reason or words, so beyond anything he’s ever known. So he hasn’t blinked. Everyone else was long gone, including his grandmother, who hurried to the tree of souls to pray for the safe return of her family and the rest of the brave Na’vi warriors who were still fighting in that wretched battle, the one that seemed never-ending, the one that riddled Neteyam with guilt for not taking part in. 

“There’s nothing we can do for her now, ma ‘itan. She’s in Eywa’s hands now, we just have to wait and see.”

Neteyam hated those words. With a burning passion. Wait and see. So passive, so out of his control, so… hopeless. And yet here he was. Waiting, to see if you’d ever wake up, to see if his family, his mother and father, his friends, his clan members would survive the night and the challenge that might overtake them without him being there to help or stop it, or even witness it. Seeing, seeing you, powerless and lifeless, just a flicker of the bright spark you've always been, it stirred something in him.

You were so beautiful. He hated himself for realising it, but you were. You always have been, and although so much of your beauty came from the soul that was wild and untamed and too big to be contained inside you, still, you were beautiful. And like this, no usual frown or defiant smirk that you reserved for him, he could focus on your face and realise that you haven’t changed that much in all these years, not as much as he has led himself to believe in time. Like this, in this light, with a peaceful look on your face, eyelashes casting shadows over your lapis cheeks, your tahni glowing dimly and flickering softly, your lips slightly parted as you breathed in and out, you reminded him a lot of the Vi he used to love, the Vi before the ugly fights, and the constant war, before the hurt and the pain, before every day was just another opportunity to see who could hurt the other the most. He always thought you won those, all of those. 

“T-tey…”

His musings come to a swift closure as your lips move minutely, air barely getting pushed past them. You were speaking, and he felt himself coming back to life with each sound coming out of your mouth. 

“Teyam…” 

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet And I can't trust anything now And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

“Teyam…” 

You wake up in a sweat, like you did most days these days since the Iknimaya, whimpering the name of the boy you used to call your best friend, that you no longer could, for reasons you still couldn’t understand, that you feared more and more you never would. In your dreams, you fight and make up, and he tells you he’s sorry and that it was just a misunderstanding and that he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back, because just like you’ve gotten used to over the last few years, you two will always be bound by the hip and there was nothing that could ever come between you. It was a nice sentiment, but one that never manifested itself to you in any waking moment, as, since your Iknimaya, Neteyam has treated you like a stranger, like an ugly thought he fought his hardest to banish from his mind.

With a deep sigh, you put new clothes on and struggled to eat a few pieces of yovo fruit you picked up off the floor on your last hunt. You missed the food Neytiri made, and although they still brought you nourishment fresh every time they made it, it wasn’t the same without the familial, loving atmosphere you’ve come to rely on all these years, so you barely touched it, choosing instead to give it to the other orphans of the war that hadn't been as fortunate as you. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to them, no matter how many times they asked. Not when you knew that if you did, you’d be met with a dead stare you couldn’t handle looking into, not without crying, and there’s nothing you hated more than crying in front of people. There’s nothing you hated more than showing weakness, and he didn’t deserve to see you weak. Not anymore. 

Days dragged in training without someone to help time pass faster, without someone to brighten up your days, but they did pass. You had to sit next to Neteyam in briefings and in shooting practice, your ikran still played with each other even mid flight until one of you had to will them away from one another so as to avoid an awkward interaction, his presence and spirit was everywhere around you and in you and yet, it’s like you didn’t exist in his life anymore. 

"Come over for dinner, kid. It's been weeks. We miss having you."

You didn't know how many more excuses you could come up with to not do as Jake said, although you did suspect they knew about your and Neteyam's fallout. It was hard not to know, when the air shifted whenever you were in each other's presence, when it became icy and glacial and empty like a vast, cold tundra that you couldn't escape no matter how much you tried.

"Jake..."

"I know, you're sick and you don't want to get Tuk sick, you're too tired for food so you're just gonna crash in your tent, you have discovered a new allergy to an ingredient that Neytiri uses that's never been a problem in the years we've known you, but it suddenly is now... still, just come, okay?"

"Look, I promised your dad I'd take care of you. I can't do that if you're gonna push us away. Whatever it is between you and Neteyam... it will pass. You love each other too much for it not to pass. But hiding, moping, walking 'round looking hopeless and aimless - it isn't you. I need you to be the spark I know and love and fight. You've never gone down without a fight - don't start now. Ok?"

“Ma ‘itan.” 

Neteyam’s eyes snapped in the direction of the tent flap prying open, his mother’s lean, graceful figure emerging and he immediately rose from his spot to hurry to her side and envelop her in a hug they both desperately needed. She was fine. She was here, and walking and standing… alive. She was alive. 

“Sa’nok! Where’s father? What took so long? Is everyone ok? I am -”

“Shh, Neteyam.” His mother was a warrior, always. She was strong and capable and skilled, she was tough and knowledgeable. And yet somehow, beneath it all, she was still soft and kind and caring and empathetic, she knew exactly what her kids always felt, and she knew exactly what to say to make it better. When she her hand found the back of his neck, guiding him into her embrace, his face gently tucked in the crook of her neck, Neteyam found himself sobbing, finally able to let the pent-up emotion surface, all the anger, and sadness and guilt, and relief the last few days have brought washing over him and onto his mother’s shoulders, and she cooed affectionately, not saying a word. She knew there was no need for words, no words could ever made this better. 

“She’s dead, mum. Oare’s dead.”

“I know…” 

“Please tell me everyone’s alright. Please.” 

“It will all be alright, son. Everything will be alright.”

It will be alright… Everything will be alright.

Oh, I'm holding my breath Won't lose you again Something's made your eyes go cold

“Alright, now that you’re back in our tent, where you belong, we thought we’d celebrate both your and Neteyam’s incredible iknimaya! You both did phenomenally, kids, and we are so, so proud of you both. The youngest to ever have done it, too! I mean, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty sure it’s all my training regi-“ 

Jake ceased his monologue as soon as he noticed the dead silence in the tent, and the awkward looks that Neytiri kept shooting him when she discerned both your and Neteyam’s gazes stuck to the floor, a cold look on his face and an uncomfortable one on yours, neither of you in a celebratory mood, neither really ready or willing to relive the Iknimaya and how a beautiful, ethereal day turned into a nightmare in hindsight, plagued forever by the ill-feelings now tugging at both of your hearts.

You stared at Neteyam, as did most of his family, even the young Lo’ak who could not truly understand what was happening, why people were quiet, but could still feel the atmosphere shift, the air thicken, the silence linger and weigh heavily on all the people present in the room. Despite it all, you kept staring, kept hoping that throughout the newfound ice that enveloped the golden aura that he always exuded, that was your home and your light, your biggest question and adventure, your safety net and peace all in one, the memory of that night, so beautiful and far-removed, would bring him back to the boy you loved, the boy you needed, the boy you missed.

He was silent, still, a frown on his face and anger clear as day in his beautiful eyes, that you barely recognised, that you couldn’t believe belonged to Neteyam, your 'teyam. You kept staring and kept staring, until you felt the so-far unflinching sadness and despondency stew and seethe, until it changed and evolved, until you felt the familiar bubbling of anger remove reason or rhyme from your soul, until all you saw in front of your eyes was red, and Neteyam was the one taunting you with the blood-coloured cloth dangled in front of your face. Neteyam wanted this? Wanted to dismiss you and discard you like a toy he outgrew? Fine. You would make sure he regretted it - you have always been wild and creative, and without him, you now had heaps of time to be both, at the same time, all towards him. 

“Thank you, Jake. We couldn’t have done without your help and guidance all these years. Thank you for everything you and Neytiri and Mo’at have done for me, and I’m happy to tell you that, despite my momentary lapse in judgement, I am not going anywhere. I want to be here, I want to be part of your family if you want to have me, and I will let nothing stand in the way of that.”

As you talked, you rose from your spot to hug your adoptive parents, and they happily returned the gesture, pulling you tightly against their chests and pecking the top of your head. Lo’ak and Kiri joined enthusiastically and before long, you were suffocating in love and care and familial affection, Neteyam nowhere to be found. You were sad about it, you couldn’t help it, but for the first time in weeks the sadness was second-place, and so you found a small smirk haunting you at the prospect you were hurting him even a small amount - maybe a small fraction to the hurt he’s caused you, but there nonetheless. 

“Also… do I get a special reward for beating the Iknimaya in record time, the fastest it’s ever been done? I feel like I’m well on the way to stealing Neteyam’s spot as the next Olo’eykte. Wouldn’t that be just a riot?” 

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong You're all I wanted

"How is she?" Neteyam's eyes were heavier by the second, so tired and spent in light of everything that's transpired, in light of the bustling of crowds outside meeting what remained of the Na'vi forces that fought in a battle that while Neteyam wasn't sure, he suspected took more lives than he'll ever be able to live with. Kiri was quiet as she entered, and Neteyam was grateful for his sister, who stood with him most of the night, who checked in on you while the Tsa'hik was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.

"The same, I think. She hasn't woken up, I don't think. She hasn't moved."

Kiri walked the length of the tent until she reached you, kneeling by your side and pressing the back of her palm on your forehead. She had something wrapped in a leaf that replaced her hand and Neteyam watched with curious eyes, hoping that by paying special attention to whatever remedy that was, it would work harder and faster, would bring you back screaming and thrashing and cursing him out, because if there's something that he's realised since your accident, it was that anything was better than the deafening silence that he couldn't escape and couldn't imagine living in for a second longer than he had to. Anything was better than this.

"Her fever's not going down. I think whatever it was she scratched herself on while she fell was poisonous. That, combined with the impact of the fall... she's lucky she's alive, Neteyam."

Neteyam couldn't help the shudder that took over his body. He didn't have any hair, the way that humans did, but he imagined if he did, it would all be standing up like blades of grass on the ground, taut and barely-moving in the warm breeze. He shifted slightly so Kiri could perch herself next to him, arms touching as she leaned on him, before placing her head on his shoulder.

"Why are you still here, big brother?"

Neteyam thought about it, until he couldn't anymore, because the thoughts weren't making sense, because they all contradicted each other, because he was tired and heartbroken and distraught, and losing Oare was obviously making him soft and delusional.

"You know you're in love with her, right? Please tell me you realise this, at least now, after all this time, in light of everything that's happened, in light of how you've acted it because of it. It's been so long, Neteyam. So long of us watching you be horrible to each other and hope that one day, you'd both wake up and realise the only reason you're acting like this is because you're too blind to see what's right in front of your eyes."

Neteyam's eyes widened progressively more with each word uttered, until they were so wide it hurt. To hear it out loud, spoken so casually, as if it were a fact, shocked the Sully man. Us? Who else thought this? Who else could possibly be blind enough to perpetuate such disparaging ideas that made Neteyam's skin crawl even at the notion.

"I'm not in love with her, Kiri. I can't be in love with her. After everything she's done... everything I've done... this can't be love. Maybe it was, once. Maybe I loved her once. Maybe I loved her so much I couldn't imagine my life without her." Neteyam sighed, looking at your face, tears pooling in his eyes as early memories of young Vi juxtaposed against later memories of you, so many memories he wanted to forget and banish from his mind, so many cruel, harmful, ugly memories that made up most of his view of you now. "But not anymore."

Kiri rises from her spot with a sigh, patting her brother's head with an exasperated sigh, before she leaves.

"You haven't moved. You haven't slept or eaten, you haven't blinked. Our parents need your help bringing back the injured, the clan needs your help as the future Olo'eyktan, and yet... you haven't moved. I think that says everything. The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one, brother. The sooner you admit your feelings, the sooner you can work towards fixing your broken relationship."

Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had But I still mean every word I said to you He will try to take away my pain and he just might make me smile But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead

Desire burning deep in you was the only thing you felt as Akxo continued to trail kisses on your neck, a string of saliva connecting the purple lovebites that still stung slightly from when he marked you with them just a few minutes ago. With your eyes closed as they were, it was almost easy to imagine you were all alone, just you and this guy you’ve known your whole life but only recently realised had become a man, powerful and strong after just completing his Uniltaron just a few days ago. Despite your imagination, though, you were, in fact, not alone, nor isolated, but in plain view, propped against a tree of the clearing where you all trained in, that still had people working hard to improve on their skills, which is probably what you should be doing. But there was something so innately satisfying about doing this instead, as soon as Jake had to leave and tend to his other Olo’eyktan duties and left you and Neteyam in charge, doing it so he could watch, so he could stew in the bile that was his existence and know there’s nothing he could do to stop it, because he had no leverage over you and no power to hold over your head. Not now, and never again.  

Jake had been wrong. Whatever it was that happened between Neteyam and you didn’t pass, not a few months and definitely not now, years later. If anything, it got a lot, lot worse. Because while in the beginning it was uncomfortable silence and cold and unwieldy dejection, it was now fire and blood, it was teeth and claws, it was anger and resentment. You recognised a lot of it came from you. Most of it came from you. Because Jake might have been wrong about some things, but he was right about others. You’ve never gone down without a fight - and if a fight was what Neteyam wanted all this time, a fight was what he was going to get. Because while he might have been comfortable with the quiet, you wanted yelling and chaos, to reflect the hurt in your heart that hasn’t diminished even after all this time. You wanted to make him pay for banishing you from his mind and heart, from his life that you used to know so intimately, and you were good at payback, and continued to get better over time. 

“Are you trying to derail this whole fucking training session?” His voice, that you wanted to say hurt your ears, but if you were honest with yourself, it never could, not when it was melodic and beautiful, not when it still haunted your dreams, made Akxo straighten up faster than you could tell him to not bother, and you chuckled, a low and humourless sound that you’ve come to associate with dealing with Neteyam. 

“Don’t tell me you can’t ever handle a bunch of 13 year olds, Neteyam. I knew you couldn’t do anything right without me, but still, this is low, even for you.” 

“Akxo, I don’t think I’m making myself clear. She may be immune from the Olo’eyktan’s judgement, but you, my friend, are not. I’m sure there’s better ways to spend your days than wasting your breath on her. Trust me, she’s not worth it.”

“Ah, Neteyam, there’s no need to be bitter.” Your smirk only deepened as you ran your hands over your new flame’s abdomen. “One day, you too will find someone who won’t recoil at the thought of being in your presence, but you might need to work a little harder to not be so hard to stomach all the time for that to happen. I can coach you if you want, I mean… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to help you, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

I know, I know I just know You're not gone, you can't be gone, no

“These are the last of them.” Neteyam tried not to recoil in agony at the sight of so many dead Na’vi and pa’li, so many ikran, so much loss, more than anyone should ever know, but especially their tribe, that has had to come to terms with grief in a way most other tribes aren’t, in a way that’s unnatural and premature and wrong. It was all so wrong.

Kiri was right, he had to help. He had to help not because it was his duty, but because it was right. He couldn’t keep looking at you, not when every second he did, Kiri’s words rang in his ears and made his eardrums pound so hard it felt like they were about to explode, not when every second he spent thinking of you was making him feel a mix of emotions that he didn’t, couldn’t understand, not when the exhaustion from the last few days made him question himself and ponder if his sister was indeed right all along. So Neteyam left you in that tent and put you under lock and key in the back of his mind, and dealt with the immeasurable loss that once more plagued his clan. 

“Nawm Sa'nok, why?! My son, my son! There is supposed to be a balance! This isn't balance!” The wails of the woman, whom he’s known ever since he was born, that he can still remember playing with him when she brought his son over his family’s tent, hurt beyond comprehension. The usual peaceful, harmonious laughter and chatter intertwined with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and soft, distant songs of animals and birds were gone, drowned by the cries and screams by the people that were trying to identify the dead, and figure out if life would ever be the same again. 

"Neteyam, ma 'itan. He's gone, he's gone! Oh, Great Mother!"

Neteyam's breath got pushed out of his lungs at the impact of her body crashing into him, that he struggled to keep upright as she was buckling under the weight of her loss. Her son was a good warrior, and a friend. He couldn't come to terms with his death, couldn't understand what was truly going on, his mind almost protecting him from the overwhelming grief by numbing his thoughts, by removing him slightly from the realities clearly displayed to him, that he experienced almost like in a dream.

"It's going to be alright, auntie. We're all going to be alright." His mother's words, a mantra he repeated to himself every second, now the only thing that he could utter, the only thing that didn't feel redundant... even though it was.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong Won't finish what you started

Well, here you were, ready to eat your words, as the curiosity got the better of you and you found yourself sneaking to Neteyam’s new hiding spot, that he didn’t know you knew about, that you found yourself coming to a bit too often to call it nonchalance and yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was an itch you had to scratch, seeing what he was doing, who he was with, finding new ammunition for your petty revenge, it was all for research purposes, you always told yourself.

Whatever you saw here, and there were some wild things, you always kept quiet and left without ever being spotted, maintaining your cover and whatever dignity you knew would disappear if your friends found out you were stooping so low. But somehow, right now, watching as Neteyam was whispering sweet nothings in a stupid little healer’s ears, telling her how good she’s taking his cock and watching her eyes roll back in her head, your blood was boiling.

You didn’t know why it was boiling, it’s not like you haven’t seen him fuck girls before, or try to, it’s not like this was a completely unusual occurrence, but it was new just how into it the girl seemed to be. How desperate for his touch, how needy to feel him. Your fingers twisted around a branch so hard it snapped and you ducked as their heads snapped into the direction of the noise. You were just mad that you lost a subject that you knew got under his skin. That’s it. That must be it, not at all because your mind was conjuring all the ways that you should be in that girl’s shoes, and how he should be making you feel this way. No man’s ever made you feel this way. No man’s ever made you cry, the way she was crying, gripping at his back and shoulders so hard his skin was broken and bleeding. You hated him, that’s all. That’s why your blood was boiling. 

Well, he wouldn’t get the last word, not if you had anything to do with it. You returned to your spot around an hour later, half happy, half annoyed out of your mind that they were still going at it, and she was still screaming and crying, and he was still whispering praises in her ears, although they did have the decency to change position so at least you couldn’t see much anymore. With a wide smirk on your lips, you waited, until the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the endless green forest. 

"Neteyam, are you there?"

Jake sounded angry, and you stifled an evil laugh as you saw them both scramble to untangle themselves from each other and from the floor, the girl's cries no longer of pleasure as she couldn't figure out how to tie her top around her neck anymore.

"Nete-, oh, my fucking God!" English came naturally to Jake, even 20 years later, whenever he was feeling any extreme emotion, and you were happy for the strenuous effort you put into learning it as a child just for this one moment, right here. This was all worth it. "Kole, your mother was looking for you. Can you just- oh, fuck - can you just go and meet her, please?"

"Yes, of course, ma Olo'eyktan."

You were still grinning about the interaction and the ass kicking that followed a couple days later, as you came back to your tent for the night. The smile faded progressively as you neared the entrance, as small whimpers and pleasured groans could be discerned vaguely, coming from behind your tent, a small nook that only you really knew about or frequented, that now was obviously occupied, by a person whose voice you recognised all too well. No way. Sure enough, as you snuck around the tent, a continuation of whatever it was you interupted a couple days ago was well underway, and you bit down a curse, enraged at the way not only did you not, in the end, get the last word, but Neteyam's new hiding spot was just about to ruin whatever remainder of peace and sanity you had left.

When you entered your tent, a small piece of paper with some writing rested on your sleeping mat, yet another human skill Jake insisted on his family to know, that you now regretted.

"This is for ruining my hiding spot. Enjoy hearing all the girls who don't recoil at the thought of being in my presence."

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't go back, I'm haunted

Neteyam watched as his father entered the tent, a heaviness that he rarely lets people be privy to wearing him down and slouching his shoulders. Neteyam couldn’t imagine what his father was going through, couldn’t imagine how someday, he’ll have to bear this burden and do it well, do it honourably and proudly and still keep a head held high and keep it all together so other people can fall apart around him.

Neteyam had mostly love for his dad - deep, unconditional love that will never falter, not even in the face of adversity, or in the face of the deep seeded resentment that Neteyam still had after the years of torturous training, of pressure put on his very young shoulders, of guilt-tripping and being blamed for his brother’s mistakes, of being pushed aside and replaced with you, the perfect daughter who could do no wrong in his father’s eyes. Even despite all of this, Neteyam loved his dad. And yet, watching him come in, sad and worried sick about you, his lips pursed in a straight line, words on his tongue that Neteyam knew were coming and was terrified of… the love faltered just a little. 

“Mo’at said she got poisoned falling off her ikran.” 

“Yes. Oare’s dead.”

“I saw her in the line-up.” His father turned his sights from you to his oldest son, sighing as his eyes set on him, anger flashing in his eyes briefly before composing himself.

“What the hell happened out there, Neteyam? We were counting on you. On both of you.” 

Neteyam had no answer to that. He’s tried so hard to bury the thoughts, because he knew that if he succumbed to them, the guilt would eat him alive and pick its teeth with what remained of his frail bones. He didn’t think of how this was his fault, your fault, how if these stupid fights, that now seemed meaningless and daft, didn’t occupy so much space and time in both your minds, you would have slept, you would have not been tired and distracted, Oare wouldn’t have felt the nerves and fears emanating from you, and you would’ve done what you do best, inspire some people, kill others, be next to Jake, like you always were, like Neteyam was normally next to his mother, and get it done. The two of you were indispensable to the clan, as much was clear now. And although it wasn't fair, how much pressure there was on both your shoulders, it was the way things were. And now both of you will have to live with the consequences of your actions, will have to find a way to look the people in the eye again, knowing that you directly caused their family’s demise and the clan’s sorrow.

“Do you understand how serious this is, Neteyam? We lost good people today. Good people, strong people, dependable people. And the two people who I counted on the most left us all for dead, to fend for ourselves. This isn’t what I taught you. This isn’t who I raised, Neteyam. Even Lo’ak pulled his weight. We’re going to be reeling from these losses for the rest of our lives, and this has set us back months, and I need you to understand the weight of your actions.” 

Another sigh and a frown that aged the Olo’eyktan by a good 10 years was the last sign of disapproval before his attempt to leave Neteyam by himself, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t know whether it was his words, or the continuous battle with you that he’s had to fight for the last 7 years, all years in which he’s felt heartbroken, and resentful, and inadequate, and pushed to the side, and ignored, and worked to the bone for very little appreciation, or the fatigue wearing him down, or the loss of your ikran, or the guilt that’s been gnawing at him long before his father’s contribution, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam’s anger was directed at someone else rather than you. 

“Understand the weight of my actions? Do you hear yourself right now? This whole mess, this whole shitshow that I’ve gone through, that we’ve both gone through, it’s all your fault. All of it.  This is going to weigh on me just as much as it will weigh on you, and the loss of these people, of Eywa’s children, will haunt me for the rest of my life. Of our lives. So don’t sit there and talk to me about responsibility, and about losing people.” He couldn’t help look at your unconscious form, that more and more felt like your own body was trying to protect you from the sadness that would wait for you when you woke. “I lost the person I loved the most, that was my shelter from the storm, a storm you caused. All you do is push me, and push us, and I’m so fucking tired of it.” a sob is all it took for his father to rush to his side, concern and confusion deeply rooted on his face as it met Neteyam’s, when his hands found his face and rose it to his level. 

“What are you talking about, son?” 

Neteyam’s chest was heaving with unshed tears as he looked in his father’s eyes through the fractured, refracted lens of the liquid threatening to spill. 

“I heard you.” One tear. “That night, the night after the Iknimaya.” Two tears. “I heard you telling grandmother how you want her to be Olo’eykte in my stead. How she deserves it.” Six tears. “I heard you… as you told her Vi would never have me. That she said she would never want to be my mate.” Too many tears to count. 

“Oh, Neteyam…” 

“I worked so hard, my whole life. I sacrificed more than anybody I know. And I did it all to please you, to live up to you. I did so you’d be proud of me, so you’d love me, and accept me. I did it all so I’d a good leader, a worthy Olo’eyktan, someone the clan can rely on to protect them.

I spent my whole childhood crying and aching, hating my life, wishing I could be anyone else instead, but I thought it would all be worth it one day because you told me as much, and that I have a title to live up to. And then I met Vi, and she changed everything… and I loved her, dad. And in one night you managed to take everything away from me.

Do you have any idea what that did to me? What the next seven years, in which we hated each other and competed for your love and praise, for your attention and affection, did to me? I’m there for everybody all the time. Every day and night, I am here for you, and for mum. I am here for Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk. I am here for the clan. I am the mighty soldier, the doting brother, the dutiful son, the concerned clan member, the understanding karyu, the unbroken arrow in the quiver of your army.

Do you know there’s not a single day that I don’t hurt, that it doesn’t kill me inside, little by little, without a single soul to talk to, that cares or bothers to listen to my struggles?”

Sometime during that monologue, that Neteyam’s kept in his soul his whole life, he found himself in his father’s embrace, who was quiet and listened, who said nothing and just waited. Neteyam was sobbing in his father’s shoulder now, and he couldn’t find it in him to stop, like a spring that was buried underground with none the wiser until poked in just the right way, with unending streams now able to either fill a dam or flood a village. 

“Neteyam… fuck. I’m so sorry, son. I didn’t know. Any of it, I didn’t know. Neteyam… you never said anything. You never brought up that night, and I wish you did, son… I wish you did because if you had, then you would know that those words that you heard… those words weren’t mine, Neteyam.” 

There are very few moments where Neteyam feels like his soul has somehow exited his body and he’s experiencing a moment almost like from outside himself, like a stranger looking in. That’s how he felt now, as he could see himself removing his head from his father’s embrace, a dazed and almost uncharacteristic expression trying him. 

“What did you say?” 

“That night, if I remember correctly… we were talking about how well you did, both of you, in the Iknimaya. We were laughing at the fact you were both late, how I’d have to pretend to be mad and punish you, when in reality I not only expected it, but almost desired it, that you took that day to enjoy yourselves, to feel free of some of the burden I know I’ve placed on you.

I was reminded, seeing her, of her dad. Her dad who asked me to take care of her before he passed. Of the words he told me. That even back then, as nothing more than a child, he knew that she was special. That under other circumstances, she would have, no doubt in his mind, become the next Olo’eykte. That she was born for it, made for it. Those words always echoed in my ears as I watched her grow, and seen for myself the talent that comes so rarely, it seems almost like a fable. That I only ever saw in you. I considered it, making you both leaders at the same time - unheard of, maybe, but you both deserve it, you’re both made for it, and you used to complete each other, like two pieces of a perfectly fitted puzzle. That’s it, son. I would never want to replace you, Neteyam. I would never even think of it. Not only because you are my son, but because you are the greatest person I've ever met. Because there's no one else, there can be no one else.” 

Neteyam saw his face drop, his entire body shuddering under the weight of the new information, that changed everything, that he could have known all these years and yet didn’t, that shifted Neteyam’s whole world on its axis yet again and he almost wanted to reach out and console himself, the man that looked as young and scared as a pup lost in the woods, like he used to look all the time before he met you, like he swore to himself he’d never look like again after he lost you. His dad didn’t want to replace him. He never wanted to replace him. What was he supposed to do now, with this momentous information that he never thought he’d get to hear?

“I’m so sorry, son, that you’ve had to bear this weight all by yourself. I’m sorry for my contribution in it, and that I failed to see how I made it all so much harder to stomach. Your mother and I love you so, so much, Neteyam, and we want to be there for you, but, son… you don’t talk to us. You keep everything buried inside. We can’t help what we don’t know. We try our best, and we’re so sorry we failed you… that I failed you. And about Vi… Neteyam, you have to speak with her. You’ve carried this in you for far too long. You need to let it out. Let her explain. Let her give you an answer, or closure.” 

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” 

Neteyam didn’t know if his dad was saying this more to his son or to himself, but right now, it didn’t matter. 

“She will, son. She’ll wake up.”

The only other time Neteyam's left you since the accident was after the talk, the overwhelming urge to wash his face at the nearby river finally too great to be ignored. The water helped a little. It grounded him and nourished him, as much as it could, and Neteyam was slightly taken aback at the way his soul felt just slightly lighter, how his father's words, and the conversation he should have had years ago and didn't, changed so much in his mind. His father was right. Kiri was right. It was time to talk. Years and years of torture and pain, and it was finally time to talk. He just hoped you'd actually be there to listen.

Neteyam was startled by a frenzied Lo'ak, rushing to his side, panting as he put a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath as he spoke.

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time Never ever thought I'd see it break Never thought I'd see it

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac (sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

[anti-catradora-collection]

TRANSLATING AND GIVING MY HONEST OPINION ABOUT THIS TWITTER THREAD:

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ DO NOT GO AFTER AND DO NOT HARASS THE CREATOR OF THE THREAD I'LL BE COMMENTING HERE. thank you.

"it pisses me off when ppl say they love enemies to lovers and then say that catra//dora is toxic.

like, ENEMIES is not when one person steps on another's toes and gets angry towards them"

keep reading under the cut:

yeah, "enemies" certainly is not when one person steps on another's toes and gets angry towards them. even google knows that. enemies to lovers is completely different from rivals to lovers.

however, c//a aren't enemies either. they have never been.

they were simply abuser x victim. and that's mainly because adora never really felt any hate towards catra. she even tried to make catra join the rebellion multiple times.

additionally, adora knew how to defend herself, but wouldn't do more than she needs.

catra, on the other hand, would relish on BRUTALIZING adora. she even tried to end the whole universe out of spite to adora, willing to kill them both in the process.

and let's not forget: catra did all this with a smile in her face, proud of being able to manipulate and control adora.

they were never mutual enemies. adora mostly viewed catra as someone to fear. most of the time, she felt powerless when the matter was catra. to be honest, even when the matter wasn't her, it's shown that she felt that way. damn, she even had a panic attack because of catra.

and let's not forget how catra and adora's fights are always viewed as "flirtatious/sexy" and, surprisingly (or not), they are always with catra on top while adora is unable to fight back for any reason (be it for an emotional or physical reason, temporarily or not).

the only exception for what i said above is this scene, where i don't even believe adora is being flirtatious (for me, she's simply being smug) and where she's not even talking to catra in person.

of course, there's times where adora physically hurts (or tries to hurt) catra back, but it's solely to DEFEND HERSELF/OTHER PEOPLE. catra takes advantage of adora's kindness cuz she knows she won't be able to cause the same harm as catra does.

NEXT:

"enemies to lovers is ALWAYS toxic in the enemies part. a relationship where you are the other person's mortal enemy is not even possible.we ship catra//dora precisely because they get to the lovers part, and when they get to it, there is no more toxicity."

I'm so sorry to break it to you, but C//A has been toxic before, during and after they were in opposite sides of the war. here is an example of this. catra always made it seem like it's adora who's always abandoning her, but it was catra's CHOICE to stay in the horde.

C//A relationship occurred on an existing pattern: adora accidentally says something that makes catra mad -> catra hits/insults her -> catra runs away, expecting adora to chase after her and feeling like she's rejected if that doesn't happen. it even happened while they were KIDS.

and let's also not forget about catra gaslighting and slapping adora in that one episode while she was going through another panic attack. "catra didn't know something was going on!!!" she literally had "flashbacks" about things that did happen and adora was clearly not okay.

catra could've been a good friend like glimmer was for adora in the hot springs episode, listen to her, try to help and properly calm her down even if she didn't know what was happening, but catra didn't. she insisted on her own view that everything was perfect instead.

catra also makes it seem like adora is the abandoner multiple times in season 5. like girl you're the one who literally abandoned her even in S5 plsss-catra CHOSE to stay in the horde, adora tried to make catra come with her since forever. catra was the one running away.

she even framed adora as being the violent one in their relationship with this scene:

"how am i supposed to fight my own friends?"

"it never stopped you before."

it's almost like catra wasn't the one always trying to hurt and murder adora all the time... lol.

NEXT:

"apart from the abuse that catra (and adora) suffered throughout her childhood AND her fear of abandonment, the only reason catra treated adora the way she did was because she suppressed her feelings in such an absurd way that she was even violent."

uhhh.. no?

you're telling me catra tried to kill adora multiples times and destroy the universe because deep inside her heart catra LOVED adora?

this is honestly giving me "he hits you because he likes you!" vibes. i bet if catra was a man, you wouldn't be saying stuff like this.

plus, shall i say something that may sound a bit... harsh:

THIS. IS. NOT. ABOUT. CATRA.

of course catra is traumatized.

of course catra is also abused.

of course all these facts helped building up catra's character.

but nothing justifies the way she treated adora.

"but catra was abused, she was raised in a harsh way, she doesn't know any better!" what about we stop making adora's abuse about her abuser...? everyone kinda seems to forget how catra was also a w4r crim1nal lmao. of course catra deserved love. but not in the way she got.

catra also needed to be held accountable for her actions, which she didn't. "she was brainwashed by horde prime which made her suffer a lot!" okay, and? catra also brainwashed and put adora into a lot of pain and that fact was never once brought up again.

i mean, catra literally was a gen0c1dal w4r crim1nal. she killed lots of people (including glimmer's mother). again, she tried to end the universe. she destroyed villages. she attempted to kill adora multiple times. was she even questioned about it?

no. the princesses immediately take catra in with them as soon as adora says "she's with us now". there was not even a proper discussion about it.

NEXT:

"as soon as she gets sufficiently comfortable in being vulnerable and admitting what she feels to adora, there's no reason for her to be violent because there's nothing else to suppress. the acception of her "true self" breaks the cycle of abuse and that's WHY +"

not gonna comment on it cuz i already said how catra has been abusive during the entire series - even after she has been rescued. "she was going through a lot" and adora was too. It just wasn't fair for catra to treat adora that way simply becuz "adora doesn't want mee! :(".

like, girl, this isn't about you. you ASKED adora to save the world but then you get angry when she decides it's something she NEEDS to do and states that no one else can do that. like ???

NEXT:

"they turn into a couple.

double trouble themselves tell catra exactly what she has been doing during all seasons to hide and deny her own feelings for adora. because these feelings made her feel uncomfortable."

excuse me, double trouble was also wrong about that. starting by the way they said "left you" while turning into adora when we know it wasn't what happened, there's also the fact that their speech wasn't only about catra's "feelings" for adora.

it was also about catra feeling abandoned and rejected by EVERYONE she knew: shadow weaver, scorpia, hordak... or are we going to forget the fact all these people were also in the scene?

but even the show itself tries to make it seem like adora was the abandoner only for the "just this once, stay" quote to make sense. another reminder: spop's writing is very far away from being the best.

NEXT:

"I would NEVER ship catra//dora the way i do if they haven't got a redemption and if the "enemies" part hadn't come to an end. at most, I'd think they have chemistry and potential for making out, but their healthy relationship is only possible due to their happy ending."

i don't even know what to say- this person lost me at "I'd think they have chemistry and potential for making out". why the hell do you think catra abusing adora would be hot, SPECIALLY in a scenario where they keep being "enemies"???? 😭

also, yes, they got a "happy ending". but at what cost?

catra lied to adora and insulted her even during her confession;

catra never really changed, this series simply tried to make it seem like she did (and failed to do so)

adora is now in a supposedly "happy relationship" with her own abuser and sister, while both didn't at least got therapy BEFORE that.

catra didn't need a romance with her victim in order to be happy. she simply needed time to HEAL, just like adora. "but can't they heal as a couple?" no. it just doesn't work like that. you can't love someone else without fully loving yourself first.

NEXT:

"that being said, catra is open to therapy with perfuma, already sees bow and glimmer as besties, says sorry with ease, happily participates on princesses hugs, isn't afraid to show love and care for adora. and that's when a good relationship is born."

catra may be "trying" to be a better person in canon, but she's far from achieving that. you all say "someone needs time to heal before turning into a better person", but then look at catra, whose "redemption arc" was up for half of the last season and applauds it as "the best character development ever". it also doesn't work like that. it doesn't matter how many times catra saves the world if she keeps treating adora like dirt while doing that (guilt tripping, insulting and beating her up, for example).

basically, saying "I'm sorry for everything" once doesn't mean anything if catra, herself, doesn't truly change.

the last tweet of the thread finished with the following sentence:

"kisses and go to therapy"

all i can say is: thanks, op. you too.

[partywithponies]

Are you open to sharing your downloaded Keeley content at all? :) <3

Okay, let me give it a go making a comprehensive list linking all the Keeley stuff I've got! I'll put it under a cut because this is going to get long. Let me know if anything has the wrong link or anything.

Will make this the pinned post of my Keeley Hawes sideblog @misskittybutler and update it if and when I acquire any more stuff. (CBBC's Troublemakers can't hide from me forever.)

TV shows she's a main/regular in:

Ambassadors

Ashes to Ashes

Bodyguard

Cold Lazarus

Crossfire

Diana Dors: The Blonde Bombshell

Finding Alice

Fungus The Bogeyman (2015)

Honour

Identity

It's A Sin

Karaoke

Line of Duty

Mrs Wilson

Murdoch Mysteries (the TV movies)

Mutual Friends

Orphan Black: Echoes

Our Mutual Friend

Spooks

Stonehouse

Summer of Rockets

The Beggar Bride

The Best Man

The Casual Vacancy (I'm not happy about having JKR related content in my google drive either. but Keeley gets her boobs out and I am weak)

The Durrells

The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses

The Midwich Cuckoos

The Missing (season 2)

The Moonstone

The Tunnel

The Vicar of Dibley (very much stretching the definition of "main/regular" here, she's literally in two episodes, but you know)

Tipping The Velvet

Traitors

Upstairs Downstairs (2010)

Wives and Daughters

Year of the Rabbit

Movies and films:

A is for Acid

Adventurer: Curse of the Midas Box

After Thomas

Chaos and Cadavers

Complicity

(Complicity DVD special features)

Death at a Funeral (2007)

(Death at a Funeral DVD special features)

Flashbacks of a Fool

High-Rise

(High Rise DVD special features)

Hotel!

Me and Mrs Jones

Misbehaviour

(Misbehaviour DVD special features)

Othello (2001)

Rebecca

Scoop

The Avengers (1998) (this movie's a blast when you don't have a little bitch in your ear telling you it's one of the worst movies ever made)

The Bank Job

(The Bank Job DVD special features)

The Cater Street Hangman

The Lady Vanishes (2013)

The Last September

(The Last September DVD special features)

To Olivia

(To Olivia DVD special features)

Tristram Shandy/A Cock and Bull Story

Under The Greenwood Tree

Single episodes of stuff that she appeared in:

Agatha Christie's Marple

Canterbury Tales

Doctor Who

Forever Green

Heartbeat

Inside No. 9

Murder in Mind

Pie in the Sky (part 1) (part 2)

Shakespeare ReTold

Tricky Business

Non-fiction stuff she appeared in as herself:

CBeebies Bedtime Story

River Cottage: Three Go Mad

Would I Lie To You?

What The Durrells Did Next (documentary)

The Story of the Costume Drama

I didn't know what other category to put this in:

Ballet Shoes & More: A BBC Radio 4 Children’s Drama Collection

And I think that's everything currently!!

[whinlatter]

author's note | chapters 13 & 14: the moult & the vulture

now the dust has settled... thank you for reading chapters 13 and 14 of beasts! thank you also to the askbox angels who asked for the author’s note (it is still mad to me someone reads these). now, it's inquiry time, baby - and boy are the gloves coming off, and the secrets spilling out. the wait was long; so were the chapters. sorry, again, about that. so - kindly read on for discussion of some major themes and plot points, a little on song choices, and some juicy deets and a sneak peek of chapter 15... and 16…

✨ spoilers for this chapter below the cut  ✨

writing notes and headcanons

first - a disclaimer: am going to talk about that cliffhanger in a separate post up shortly (i rambled on too long). it will be up shortly!

second - a thank you! the reaction to these chapters has me in absolute bits. i'm a soppy sentimental shit at heart and this really did make me the happiest little girl in the world. so thank you forever and ever for that.

third - an acknowledgement, as ever, to @saintsenara, whom i bounce all the inane details off of, whose takes absolutely slap and who i hope will forgive me for making her boy rookwood such a flop.

divide and conquer/accidentally wrote two chapters again: what am i like! the trouble is - life-stuff aside - i was excited about these chapters (and the reveals), but also put far too much pressure on them to do a huge amount of heavy lifting, and to get the story to a place it wasn’t yet at and needed to get to quick. the writing challenge for these chapters was that i needed a series of plots to hit a rolling boil so we can get to the flashbacks to ginny’s war and all the reveals. and it took fucking ages to work how to structure and serve them as each needs at this point in the fic, and try to find a set of themes/devices to tie those plots together into something cohesive (especially because writing fic is much more like dropping tv show episodes in structure rather than actually sharing a novel, in part because you drop them one at a time at intervals, and i think the more successful ones can stand alone while also serving the overall body of work). i have - i confess - knitted, in my time, and you know when you have really thick wool and thick needles and you’re trying to slowly eek off one stitch onto the other needle and it actually really starts to hurt? it felt like that :) 

two inquiries, both alike in dignity: god, i love an inquiry. the truth being dragged out kicking and screaming by  the state, buffeted by political winds and a rapacious press? inject it. at last, the past is getting properly dredged up, and all sorts of buried secrets are getting unearthed in the process. so: in the present, the hogwarts inquiry is under way, and the wizengamot has assembled to hear what exactly has been going down in that cursed drafty old castle. in the past, though, we have flashbacks to a separate inquiry, into the events of 1992-1993, after the chamber of secrets was opened, where it wasn’t hogwarts on trial, but ginny herself (in a way). the events of ginny’s first year have haunted her in diffuse, quiet, private ways in the flashbacks throughout this fic so far, but we’re moving into the part of the fic where we see just how much they changed the course of her life and who she is as a person. in canon, ofc, we only see harry’s view of the aftermath of ginny’s ordeal in the chamber - dumbledore is reinstated, lucius gets kicked off the governors, ginny weasley is ‘perfectly happy again’... but would that *really* be the end of it? doesn’t it seem perfectly plausible the ministry would investigate given the scale of publicity and threat to student lives, given (as discussed previously) the ministry canonically holds inquiries of varying scales for all sorts of things in canon? wouldn't they hold one for this?

ginny's guilt: in CoS, young harry never blames ginny for any of it: she was hoodwinked, he recognises, and not at all culpable. it’s very harry, and it’s a compassionate read of the situation. but given how little we know dumbledore tells anyone about what the diary actually was (even lucius didn’t know), wouldn’t ginny expect to face at least some questions about her own involvement and culpability, even if she was clearly to some extent also a victim? (the nod to colin’s mum is there as a reminder that there were real victims of the basilisk attacks: ginny could easily have been responsible for the deaths of several children, including her own friends, and if it were my child i think i’d want to ask at least a question or two). what i wanted to show with these flashbacks was this very formative experience for young ginny grappling with her own guilt and her place between two wars, having to face difficult questions about her own complicity in dark magic and attempted murder; for there to be echoes of ginny’s experiences in the experiences of young death eaters during the second wizarding war, and to start to properly draw these themes about choices, moral agency and grey areas, about children’s radicalisation and wars fought both by and through them, and, in particular, where ginny weasley sat within them. what i wanted to show was how ginny’s political and moral worldview was shaped in those pivotal years: her guilt, her sense of her own failings and inadequacies, how discontent she was to be a victim, how obsessed she is with being an agent and a soldier, how much she feels she has to prove. i might bash out a proper meta on this but i think it’s so telling how ginny talks about her second year later on in canon - how haunted she is by the forgetting (in OotP), and how much she sees it as having ‘[taken] orders’ (in HBP), rather than thinking of her possession as just playing host to another entity. here, it’s dumbledore who points out the key traits that led ginny into riddle’s path: her loneliness and isolation, her many insecurities that made her so vulnerable, her fear, a certain desire for self-preservation. even though we know most hogwarts students don’t seem to really know what happened in CoS, and certainly not ginny’s part in it (terry boot in OotP is like ‘lol did you kill a basilisk with a sword!’ which seems to be the extent of the student body’s knowledge of what went down). but i like the idea of there being a record of ginny’s darkest moment in her file, ink and paper proof of this most formative experience in her life, dumbledore dancing around her defence but keeping his cards close to his chest - and also there to pursue if anyone planning a hogwarts takeover was interested in finding someone close to the order of the phoenix who might be a weak link in the chain and be persuaded to flip…

dumbledore: dumbledore appears here only in flashbacks - he’s still absent from his portrait in the present - but it was sooo fun (re)introducing him as a character for the fic for the first time. what i liked about writing dumbledore’s dialogue (though it’s actually much harder than i expected, and i don’t feel that great about some of the lines) was that it was a chance to get a bit meta with the dumbledore bashing tropes that circle around fandom - you work through child soldiers, you monster etc - and try and do something a bit more interesting with them, or at least ask some questions (child soldiers or human shields? can children fight for what they believe in? how you fight a fair fight when the other side sees children as fair game - do you confine children to victimhood, or do you acknowledge, or even encourage, their own moral agency and desire to fight back?) dumbledore is walking a very difficult moral line here: defending ginny, but declining to disclose information that might conclusively exonerate her - eg. the existence of voldemort’s horcruxes - in the name of his most favourite thing, the greater good. in dumbledore’s mind, ginny deserves a defence, but not the whole truth, because that’s too important and bound up in a much bigger picture. dumbledore is always playing 3D chess while everyone else plays chequers. should dumbledore have revealed the horcruxes to conclusively exonerate ginny here? no, right? and yet. one day ginny will name her middle son after this man, and we might start to think about why. is it just loyalty to harry? or something else? i wanted us to see ginny’s political worldview being built, and her view of war and a soldier’s role in it, all themes that will be super important as we go back in time to see her war as she lived it in future chapters.

the intellectuals: one of the least developed but most interesting parts of the wizarding world in canon are the ideas and the people who have em. the series has a lot of important characters that are supposed to be eminent thinkers, but it doesn’t ever really linger on ideology, in the end settling on a kind of boilerplate liberal universalist good vs evil message which is fiiine but much less interesting than actually playing around with the concept of political thinkers and political thought in wizarding culture. it’s why i find the department of mysteries so interesting and so ripe with potential; the idea of a space of intellectual inquiry and investigation, but also a place where the staff’s moral allegiance is kind of a question mark. i loved introducing rookwood here and playing with a different kind of death eater, especially juxtaposed with dumbledore’s reflections in the flashback testimony. rookwood isn’t a bruising thug for fire, or a self-serving machiavellian real politik type or a coward acting out of fear, but someone who really believes in magical supremacy and has built a robust political worldview around it. there’s something really chilling about that. we’ll be seeing him again and i unfortunately am now so rookwood-pilled i worry i will never recover. i knew i’d get hegel in there somewhere! and they said it couldn’t be done! ariana carl schmidt what are you doing here!

kingsley vs minnie: delicious to reignite the minnie discourse, especially to come out to try and beat the minnie-bashing allegations that have jovially dogged me thus far. so far in this fic, kingsley has been an unrelenting goodie, someone who came to ginny to get her endorsement of the inquiry and framed that approach as the righting of a moral wrong in letting the victims of a death eater-run hogwarts have their day in court. minnie, on the other hand, seemed like ginny’s opp, defending a toxic status quo and making wild suggestions like ‘do your homework’ ‘don’t play quidditch when you might die’, like some kind of fucking idiot. in the series ministers of magic are canonically not to be trusted - harry certainly never meets a minister who doesn’t try to put the squeeze on him - and it’s extremely fun to sow these seeds of doubts about kingsley’s motivations here, especially when using ginny the protagonist as canon harry’s mirror (ie. a narrator who is frequently a dumb bitch). what’s kingsley up to? answers on a postcard. but i’ll die on the kingsley is a slytherin hill i’m so sorry! and speaking of minnie…

mother figures (or: the pitfalls of shipping your mum out to the dominions): look i bummed myself out with this one. i have had that the mrs granger knife crime incident scene written for SOoooooo long let me tell you. i’ve written elsewhere about how much this fic is really so much about the girls, and - especially - the girls and their mums, or the people they make mother figures out of. one of the least satisfying of the ‘all was well’ aspect of the series was that actually, at the end of DH, you have a whole host of people who were probably never going to be well again, and i very much see hermione’s parents in that camp. the world and his wife has an opinion on hermione’s decision vis-à-vis her parents. hermione’s stans see it as her deepest personal self-sacrifice; her haters take it as yet more proof of her monstrousness. even if you imagine the grangers were totally mentally well after having their muggle brains messed around with by powerful magic, it is hard to imagine how their relationship with their daughter could ever really be the same again after hermione played god with their minds. but also - as ron says - hermione was motivated by a desperate desire to protect two people who would never really be able to wrap their heads around the peril (such was their distance from her life in the magical world), and who conceivably did need to be yeeted halfway across the world to get them out of harm’s way. the choices made in war - the inglorious, imperfect decisions not of purist heroes but of soldiers in the grimmest of circumstances - are so interesting to play with writing post-war fic, and i have found it so interesting and so sad to play with; especially the idea of girls coming of age and learning to see their mothers clearly, and - in the case of both hermione but also ginny - having to wrap their heads around the possibility that they may never really be ok again, and asking what that means for them, their daughters.

(also hermione brawling at ballet is a tribute to a very dear friend of mine who was in fact asked to leave our ballet lessons for pulling another girl’s hair in a fight over the barre in a pre-primary exam. monstrous competitive precocious stroppy madams unite!) 

hinny: i’ll answer some of the Qs i’ve had about this in a separate little from the postbag post shortly, but i do want to say: the thing with these chapters is that it was really important they happened after harry and ginny have had some breakthrough in the preceding chapter, where ginny has agreed to be honest and harry has asked her to let him help her and not to protect him from the truth. i always wanted harry and ginny to write these letters each other and promise to be honest to work on bridging the gaps between them and overcoming their own failings to work to do better by each other, and for those letters to now look like contracts they have to hold each other to. how will harry take it? they’ve made a commitment to each other. now they’re testing that commitment, and that’s going to take a lot of work, especially on harry’s part. (also ofc he had to find out at shell cottage, the official place of harry realising stuff. he’s going to start declining bill and fleur’s dinner invitations fr.)

ron weasley is our king: this whole fic is just ron apologism and i will never apologise for it. helping his girlfriend's traumatised mentally scarred mother with a bit of tlc and a spot of gardening! rescuing neighbour's children from trees! you will never be able to convince me ron weasley wouldn't be a great fucking boyfriend to one ms hermione granger. do not ever try!

last thing - sodding quidditch: fucking hate writing it!!! hate it with my whole heart!!! i see why everyone writes hermione now. you don’t have to give a shit about those stupid balls if granger's your gal. the mystery of what’s going on with ginny on her broom continues, with ginny’s apparent ability to seek (just about) but not chase throwing up more questions than answers. what was fun about writing this bit was getting to write ginny the captain and the team player, taking on great risk for the team - of injury, of humiliation -  and also place her in this surround that the trio never really operate in: a character who is canonically very popular and liked by her peers, who has played the thoroughly selfless and unrewarding role of backup seeker and potter understudy for years for her house, and who will saddle up at enormous personal expense not just because she is brave, or inherently self-sacrificing, but because she wants to make the people around her happy - her gryffindor family, but also the hogwarts student body at large. the trio are much less motivated by the well-being of the other children around them - they have higher-minded self-sacrificing tendencies about a more abstract moral good. neville and luna, the other two members of the silver trio, are goodies but unpopular oddities. it’s an underplayed part of the series that harry and the trio turn around in their sixth year and clock that somehow ginny turned out to be very liked and respected by the popular and unpopular of hogwarts alike, admired for being a) a laugh and b) someone who cares about other people and wants to get on with them. (makes you realise how often protagonists are removed from their peers in a slightly lofty they don’t understand me or being popular is beneath me vein.) this isn’t just a Nice Thing: i think it’s important for who ginny is as a character, and will be important for thinking about her wartime motivations, too.

reading list:

not done one of these in a while! but most things should come with a reading list, and these chapters are no different.

on ministry bureaucracy and the state (actually read this after these chapters were done but desperately wish i had read it before ffs):

Subluxation by @saintsenara

on hermione's mum/parents:

alone now by Kyra Along the Way by ElizabethCulmer you were broken-hearted and the world was, too by celaenos

on post-war justice and difficult questions:

what you're not to do by irnan

on the potters and the sea (more vibes than subject matter - this is next gen - but this one is gorgeous, and really got me thinking about harry and ginny's family by the sea):

Eyes like Sea Glass by @clerical3rror

songs from the playlist for these chapters:

for chapter 13 i went all moody, building dread, bit of a throwback to michael corner calling ginny a tryer with the taylor swift choice (i've never been a natural/all i do is try, try, try). that kate bush song basically got this chapter written i swear to god:

she is like the swallow by karan casey | waking the witch (2018 remaster) by kate bush | house of the rising sun by joni mitchell | bane by alt-j | afraid of everyone by the national | mirrorball - the long pond studio sessions by taylor swift | what if the birds aren't singing they're screaming by aldous harding

for chapter 14, much more abstract, a bit more instrumental, and out to sea (watershed moment; the tide is rolling in, kids). tortured poets is a deeply flawed deeply uneven album by a deeply un-self-aware artist convinced she knows herself well but but i'm afraid the albatross is very good (so is guilty as sin but it wasn't the moment for a matty healy wank anthem now was it):

the opportunity passed in less than a minute by roy montgomery | the albatross by taylor swift | first of the tide by erland cooper and benge | wash by bon iver | escapism by a. blomqvist

about chapter 15 (and 16…)

the next chapters are ginny's war. they're (almost) all flashback, and i am sooooooo excited about them (and desperately hope you will like them jfc). i am in the unusual position of now picking up great enormous pieces that i wrote over a year ago and dusting them off and sorting them out and rewriting bits and writing new bits around them. there's probably two chapters in it, so am currently expecting chapter 15 and 16 to drop at the same time (that might change, but for now, that feels right to me). i'm tip-tapping as fast as my little fingers can carry me. here's the least spoilery sneak peek i could rustle up!

'I'm not smugglin' in nuthin", says Hagrid. He raises a large muddy finger at her. 'I want yeh to listen to me, for once in yer life. Keep yer head down. Go to yer classes, have yer dinner, put up, and shut up. They're lookin' fer a reason to go after yer family. Reckon the best thing yeh can do for the Order is to keep to verself and stay out o' trouble. Reckon that's what yer mum wants yeh to do. Reckon that's what Harry wants, too.'

[rabbiteclair]

more Girls' Last Tour thoughts, which are admittedly mostly thoughts I had for the first time about five years ago only to resurface today upon having a long conversation about the series with a friend. this one is fully spoiler-y

as far as emotional suckerpunches go, I personally think it's like... [the entire Silence chapter] > [Chito's breakdown after she realizes the Kettenkrad's bricked] > [the end of the Art chapter] > [the end of the Life chapter] > 'the planet will finish life's long work and go to sleep as well' > [the actual end of the series]. This isn't a criticism of it, since I really like the end. I just find it kinda funny.

similarly I find it funny that this series, where every named character is strongly implied to die either during or shortly after its events, which is about 40% ruminations on death, containing the line "currently, you two are the only surviving humans of whom we are aware," is categorized as an Iyashikei. H E A L I N G. I mean I don't even necessarily disagree but goddamn.

One of the core dichotomies of the series, I think, is... it repeatedly makes it clear that people have done horrible things here, and the amount of deliberate destruction that's gone on is absolutely monstrous. They stumble onto nukes and giant war robots that can blow up a city, and there are destroyed tanks and giant craters everywhere. Basically everywhere they go is a former war zone. But it takes a really positive view of humanity. Outside of the attack on their hometown in the flashback, every single person they meet is nice and helpful. Any time it delves into human nature, the message is 'actually humans are pretty cool most of the time, and our basic drive is to take care of each other, not this survival of the fittest bullshit.'

which is one thing that I think sets it apart from a lot of fiction in this space? It never tries any kind of 'humanity is doomed in the long run because we're all violent animals beneath the facade of civilization' message or anything. Humanity rules, and it's a genuine tragedy that things have come to this.

kinda related, the series does a lot to make it clear how all of this is an unfathomably large tragedy. There are tons of background shots of entire abandoned cityscapes, there's the chapter with the mass grave, the gigantic library full of books, and so on. The actual scale of 'no, really, everyone and everything has an end sooner or later' gets driven in repeatedly. At the same time, it spends a lot of time on how something as small as destroying a single diary can be a tragedy in its own right, too. I guess I'm just kinda used to media that takes that kind of grand high-level view dismissing the small stuff as trite and unimportant when we could be putting up another number with lots of zeroes to say how many people died.

there are a lot of different ideas floating around on things like what it all means in the end, and whether it's meaningful to leave anything behind. The AI is overjoyed when she gets her chance for oblivion. The people in the graveyard have a statue to watch over them. Chito's attempt to leave something in the form of her diary is ultimately futile, and while she learns to find other meaning, destroying her diary and the books still isn't portrayed as a good thing. Other people are recorded forever in images and videos, and it's wonderful. Ultimately I don't think there's any one answer or message. Keeping with the general existentialist kinda themes, what matters is what the people involved find meaningful in that context, but that drive to create and preserve meaning for the future is both universal and noble.

while there's a lot to be said about the visuals overall... the fact that basically the only thing on the upper layer is a spiral staircase leading up into the air with no destination sure is some symbolism, huh.

similarly, while it wouldn't change the events any, symbolically I think it's very important that their long, ultimately pointless meandering journey that ends in death was upward, not downward.

on another level, though, it's kinda implied that the higher strata are newer/more recently maintained. So it's also essentially them moving through (and revisiting a lot of) human history to take their position at the very end.

Yuu's gun is never used for anything but target practice, and then she chucks it aside as soon as it's too much effort to carry. They use an old tank for a shower. They find a working military sub with nukes inside, and it's only useful because there's chocolate and a way to look at the storage on a camera. The one time they really fire a weapon, it's horrible, and the one thing they kill is portrayed as a tragedy. Even their helmets are mostly a running joke of 'oh my helmet totally would've stopped that falling building.' For a series that includes a lot of military stuff, it regards military stuff somewhere between 'disdain' and 'indifference.' Very 'the world is ending and you think a rocket launcher is going to be useful? Put that thing down and help me look for food.'

that said, the choice to give them a vehicle from WW2-era Germany is still a pretty damn unfortunate one. Considering the series's consistent stance against violence, disinterest in war, and casually disdainful treatment of weapons and military stuff, I'm comfortable saying that Tsukumizu almost certainly isn't a closet nazi, but still. At best it gives the wrong impression to anybody who hasn't gotten about a dozen chapters in and started thinking about the themes, and there's nothing the themes do with it that wouldn't work basically as well with any other military transport anyway.

the fungus things apparently being the inspiration for the god statues is clear enough, but just what their deal is remains surprisingly undefined. I've always figured they were genetically engineered or something, made specifically to clean up the environment. Which is itself a hell of a thing if so, deifying the creatures that basically symbolize 'maybe we can undo the harm we've done, and if that takes longer than we live, at least we'll leave something behind.'

I really don't know how to feel about the whole Shimeji Simulation connection. (if you aren't familiar) On one hand I feel like it undermines a lot of the series' messages to go 'oh but just kidding, everyone's fine and nobody really dies for good.' On the other hand, as somebody who's read/watched through the series about half a dozen times and really marinated in the despair, my primary immediate reaction is 'oh thank god they absolutely deserve this.' And it isn't like I haven't written multiple stories about characters embracing their imminent demise only to turn out okay against all odds in the epilogue.

Yuu's gay little run. this is still a thought

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #13

A New Dev-elopment

Aw, this is cute:

He's got LITTLE boots... That's genuinely hilarious. Even the littlest Dimmadome is up to dress code.

Ooh, map! I'll be seeing you later. No labels, sadly, but there's a river in the west that curls around the south. Wait, that river's ugly. why is it square.

"Dev is so mean! I wish I knew why he acted like that." -> Uh-oh...

Oh, please tell me we're finally getting blatant child trauma. Also, that's super funny Hazel wasn't going to be teamed with Dev until she was paired because of her wish. I love that way more than her teacher actually pairing them randomly.

Founder's Day?? /war flashbacks to Alden Bitterroot

... Wait, is Dale Dimm an ancestor of the Dimmadomes? Huh.

Nerd.

Oh, NERD??

He's cute, I'm enjoying him more after the last few episodes. Look at the teeth in his chunky little boots.

Hm. A tall place, I wonder if that's the Dimmadome tower building? (Dev's house, I think).

-> It was not, but Dev knew the place and it did have a connection to his dad. I like the implication Dev used to play there. And he's getting more engaged! Good boy. I'm glad this is a slow transition towards Hazel learning things about him and it wasn't a literal flashback episode. This is fun.

skldfj, all the locations are themed around Dev's family because they run everything around here.

SLDKJFSDF, he looks SO MUCH like his dad without his shades. That's great.

I'm once again enjoying that we got a Dimmadome bully instead of a Buxaplenty bully. It's nice to explore another of the big families in the longstanding lore. Of our main families, this was probably the one we went into least.

... If the Buxaplentys run the trains in Dimmsdale (and have since jobs were assigned in the early days), they probably also have a connection here. I wonder if Remy and Dale ever became friends.

Aw, he's keeping the shades off for now. That's sweet. He's having fun!

... Why do I get the feeling we're gonna get hit with him doing a 180 because he trusts no one and decides he'd rather blow up every chance of friendship?

Oh, THAT'S not the microexpression you want a kid to make when he sees his dad. Finally, some good, sweet child trauma in this show... I missed this so much. We're finally getting The Vibes...

His full name's Devin! Or Devon; I'm not sure. I'm glad to know. Also, I'm glad he has a Prime Meridian poster in his room just like Hazel. Ooh, and Crimson Chin! And Dancing Tarantula. That one surprises me. Is it a series or movie in some way?

"Whether new or old, when you have this, you have gold." - The answer to this clue is gonna be friendship, isn't it? I'm not opposed.

Hazel is showing absolutely 0 qualms about breaking into the school and honestly... Chloe would be proud. They would totally be friends.

-> I'm cracking up at Dev quietly opening all the doors while Hazel's trying to tell a dramatic story. She's all about emotions and fun and his default setting is "straightforward response."

Actually, they really do give me Timmy and Chloe vibes. Timmy's schoolmates used to tease him for talking to inanimate objects and I wonder if they also saw him as a grump like Dev, both dealing with difficult home lives.

Aww, Dev is playing along! He's pretending there are lasers so Hazel enjoys sneaking into the school despite him just pushing open all the unlocked doors. That's really cute.

Aw, criminalizing evidence of you being goofballs! That's adorable.

... and the printed versions are in 2D, of course!

I like this one:

It speaks to me.

Y'know, I wasn't expecting to like them as a ship, but I can absolutely see it now. Even if Dev goes back to being grumpy in future episodes, Hazel's seen a side of him that's going to change her way of thinking about him forever. I like that.

Like, at any point from this episode out, if Hazel is portrayed as being fond towards him, I'll be okay with it because they were clearly having a lot of fun playing together, and Dev's brought down his walls enough that he explained why he was having a hard time and he apologized for hurting her feelings.

He very clearly regrets snapping at her and saying he doesn't want to be friends, or at least he regrets it when he sees her storm off:

And he apologizes!! Good boy! ... Yes, he showed up and snapped at her again, but... He got there! ...... He is strugglin'! Big yikes.

I like this a lot more than the ship vibes I'd been worried for, which I'd assumed would be Hazel insisting there's good in him and "she can change him," or "He just needs a friend and then he'll be nice." I like this slower development.

Hazel gives me many Chloe vibes (in a good way), but she has her own unique twist on them. Chloe's whole thing was that she denied things that upset her, including the abuse she faced at home from her "perfect and amazing parents" because thinking about herself or her parents as less than perfect kept sending her into a dissociative spiral that would last for an hour before Timmy got her out of it.

Chloe would try to befriend everyone because she thought there was good in them... although her feelings for Kevin were hilarious ("He's a touch off-putting... in a really off-putting way").

When Kevin turned on Chloe, she yelled at him about how she thought she'd seen good in him, but that "he was really just a miserable piece of Crocker," and she was totally down to fight him with a sword.

Like... Yeah, of course Kevin jumps out her window without responding. She's scary! :(

The face of a girl who will later steal Kevin's hall monitor uniform while he's unconscious and won't feel even slightly bad because "he doesn't deserve it." She's a mess. I love her so much.

Chloe's always funny to me because she denies and excuses a lot of things, but there are a few people who can boil her blood and she loses it every time. Later in the season, she accidentally gives three children fairy godparents after screaming at them and dropping them to miserable. Chloe... Breathe.

But Hazel is not so hot-button. Which is fun, and I really like this- I'm glad Hazel isn't following the same pattern of personality (Always a concern of mine for a franchise that already has few girls, many of whom are love interests).

Hazel's got a different angle, in that she's been annoyed at Dev and glaring at him this entire series up until now, including this episode, and she (seemingly) didn't even intend to make her "I wish I knew why he acted that way" wish, because... she was just griping. lol. She hated him so much this entire show, only bending briefly when she found out they love the same book series (and when she suggested they order lactose-free pizza for him since he can't have any), and I respect that.

-> She paid so little attention to him that she forgot Dale Dimmadome was his dad. That's hilarious- It's the one thing the audience had on him and she saw him on TV and went "... I don't know who that is. Why is he wearing ridiculous boots?" That's so funny. Big "Lex Luther waking up in Flash's body and checking his secret identity in the mirror" vibes, except it's Hazel squinting at the TV trying to figure out why some guy with weird boots is on the news.

She's willing to pal around with Dev when they're out, after he shows he's good at puzzles, even before she gets that hint about his daddy issues. I like that too. Hazel's struggling with missing her brother who was her best friend - her entire world, down to wearing his hand-me-downs - and probably has a much better understanding of separation and loneliness than she would have if Antony hadn't gone to college yet.

Also, Dale calls her a mean name in this scene, so... she gets it. She can tell that guy's bad news and making his son sad.

She enjoys Dev's company. They were goofing around and having a great time as friends even before Dev's daddy issues reveal was in the picture for her. I enjoy that. I take no issue with them growing up to be either platonic friends or romantic, under the assumption that they maintain patience with each other and don't put their walls back up.

I suspect Dev might regress because he's the big rival, so I Do Not Trust that he won't become snappy again, and Hazel is completely justified in being annoyed if that happens, but I could also see her being more patient with him going forward, and that wouldn't bother me. He's fun, chill, and energetic when he's not wrapped in his self-defense mechanism of pretending not to care, so I can see her enjoying his company a lot. I like this.

I guess what I think of it is... I was worried about where this was going, and it went way better than I'd guessed. My thought process was "I cannot blame a kids' show for wanting to show that everyone's going through hard times and you should try to be nice to bullies so they're maybe nice to you, but you also have to be careful not to tip so far in that direction that you're subtly telling kids to ignore if they're being abused."

And it didn't go that way! As far as I can tell, which makes me happy. Even when he ran after her to apologize a few minutes later, she was terse with him until he really did apologize (because he showed up and was still being mean at first). She also communicated, expressing that he hurt her feelings.

I'm glad she's good at communicating her feelings and makes an effort to do so. It makes a lot of sense since she has a therapist for a mother, and we saw her parents calm her down in Episode 1 when she was getting heated. It's nice to see someone having a good home life and some healthy skills.

I really like how:

- Hazel didn't try to change him or deny any of the rudeness he'd expressed towards her. She starts this episode still annoyed at him. - Hazel didn't make Dev feel bad when he started expressing himself more. When he struggled with the idea of a high-five and pulled back his hand, she didn't pressure him. She let him go at his own pace and he high-fives her later on. - After his dad told him it was dumb to care about a treasure hunt to win water park tickets when Dimmadomes can just buy the park, she followed him to his room and gently changed the conversation back to what they were doing, not forcing him to talk about it (and not snooping or wishing). - The instant he's snappy with her, she walks out. She GONE. When he shows up, she keeps on guard and explains that he hurt her feelings. He apologizes and only then does she forgive him- she wasn't trying to excuse him, even though she'd literally just witnessed the reason for his mood change. -> I kind of like that. Hazel's out here like "Dev, listen. Your life is hard and I get that. But that doesn't mean I have to be your friend if you're going to treat me badly." This girl knows what's up. - Even though she desperately wanted to crawl through the air vents and rappel into the principal's office, she listens to Dev's suggestions when he opens all the doors. lol.

They're sweet. I enjoy this status quo shift. I didn't really care for Dev because he was definitely putting off prickly vibes, but I like him a lot more now.

This child's dad was kidnapped and forced to make lemonade underground for 7 years- I totally get why he's hesitant to trust, and the fact that his dad makes him feel like his interests are stupid is rough. I get it, buddy.

Oh, them:

I have to assume that's his Mediocre waist pack from "Weird Science" wrapped around him and that's great. That's a nice detail since in most episodes, he's not wearing it because he's already arrived at school and put it away for class, but in this one, he just walked through the door so he's still wearing it like Hazel has her backpack.

-> He really said " :( "

Dev "Totally down to commit B&E" Dimmadome: why do authority figures not like me?

I really like how Dev is so comfortable with Hazel and/or the idea that he's capable of making friends that he's totally ready to take his shades off the first day back at school. You get this sense that he WANTS to have friends... he's just having a hard time finding someone he trusts, presumably because he keeps his walls up so it's hard for others to get close to him. Hazel's meeting that need, so he's willing to relax.

He doesn't care if anyone else in class will react in surprise to seeing him without shades. He doesn't care if this changes his reputation with the entire school. Like, that doesn't seem to bother him even slightly.

-> Dev, I have good news for you! You can make MORE friends if you continue being friendly!!

-> Man went "I've only had Hazel for 1 weekend and if anything happened to her, I would terrorize everyone in this room and then myself."

I feel like since she's his only known support right now, this can easily swing into a clingy extreme (and I feel like he might have a hard time taking critique from Hazel), but... Step in the right direction.

-> And she's good at communicating. I think he can learn social skills and healthy relationships from her. I want him to meet her parents so he can see their relationship too.

/whispers loudly - I want to see his mom and grandpa. Are they around? Does he have siblings or other relatives? I have to assume he's an only child, but... hm. I'd like to know more about his relationships with other family members, because if Hazel is legitimately his sole support right now... uh-oh.

Also, I enjoy how often Dev keeps casually walking around with his hands in his hoodie pockets. Why even give a character a hoodie if you're not going to pocket their hands? That's cute.

I think it's funny that when he's wearing his shades, he has this "cool/grumpy" aesthetic when his hands are in his pockets, but when they're off, he still keeps his hands in his pockets and he's just... chillin'.

Dev would call you at 2 AM from a Denny's 2 hang. idk why, but that's the energy he gives me. Man doesn't know social norms, but he's always ready to drop everything and hang out.

Dev is the rich guy who way overpays and is confused when told that's too much, except that's him with how he'll be treating Hazel in the future, I think. What do you mean regular people don't fly around the city on a helicopter. What are you talking about.

The waterpark was shut down? ... Why do I suspect Dale was behind this, and Dev's gonna be TICKED.

That was a great episode! I like where this is going; we're getting into the old FOP swing with the underlying abuse themes and that makes me happy. Someone please give that kid a fairy. I wish I knew if the misery rules were still in play in this show.

Cookie's Court

This opening scene is cute. Neat that the punch card came back, as weird as it is, and it's nice to see Hazel relaxing and making goofy wishes.

Cookie's back! She's interesting; I'd like to learn more about her. Does her ferret scarf thing have a name?

Okay, so... Hazel does know she'd lose her fairies if they revealed their magic. We never had the rules explained in this show, which feels weird, but okay.

-> I'm so confused about what is and isn't still a rule. I guess I should assume they're all still in play? But... /gestures with confusion at miserable godkids lore. Did they have to cut that part to keep Dale's backstory, because that seems like a weird choice. Why didn't he get a fairy? It's not like rich kids don't get fairies; Remy had one.

-> I'm not opposed to it taking a while (F in the chat for Timmy having to go through Vicky's torments solo for a year before Cosmo and Wanda came into his life), and Jorgen already snapped at Cosmo and Wanda for jumping on Hazel when another fairy was already working through the hoops to get her, but... my inability to figure out if the misery rule still exists is really throwing off my sense of lore.

I like Whispers Fred's little microphone on his shirt, next to his big microphone and his headset microphone. He has 3... Help him.

Fairy Court!! ... Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Jorgen? You shouldn't be on the stand. AAHHHHH Fairy World's flag is the Rainbow Bridge stripes! I love that. That's way better than the blue one with the star they had in "Oddlympics." I wish I would've thought of that.

AAHHHHH! The court symbol survived! It was in court in the OG series too. Only in "A Wish Too Far" though, I think, since the Fairy Council had a different symbol in "Secret Wish." I remember drawing at least one of these. Lemme see.

Yeah!! This is exciting. I used to draw it on stuff, like the wax seal I use on my Class Overview post for Fairies! I love this.

^ Season 2 vs Season 8. Also, WOW... you cannot get a good picture of it in "A Wish Too Far," so kudos to the art team for taking the time to include it anyway.

In the OG show, the Anti-Fairies have something similar hanging in Anti-Cosmo's castle (although I'm not 100% sure it's got a moon).

I think in one of the live actions, Jorgen takes over as the Green Robe on the Fairy Council (I think in "Fairly Odd Summer"). I wonder if that's why he's acting judge here. I guess it doesn't matter; I'm not that concerned about it since I don't consider that canon anyway.

WHAT! You rip 10-year-old Denzel Crocker's fairies away when Timmy accidentally reveals he has fairies, but you let this slide? Jorgen...

Oh, never mind........ He's not.

Furry!! He's testifying! What a cool ferret.... omg, Cookie's in jail for 10k years. SLKDFJSLDFJ, she has a jail skeleton just like when Cosmo and Wanda went to jail in the musical.

Also, I can't be that shocked at her punishment. Revealing magic on accident is one of the biggest offenses in Fairy World because it endangers their society, so trying to do it on purpose looks really bad.

-> I wonder if Crocker still has his memories since Jorgen stopped erasing them after Season 7. I feel like we'll probably get a Crocker cameo, but that feels like a piece of lore that wouldn't carry over. Hmm...

Fairy World Prison... I gotta look this up.

Okay, it's not "Gland Plan" like I thought, and it's definitely not Abracatraz. Is it "When Nerds Collide" (Jimmy-Timmy Power Hour 2?)

IT IS! What a glow-up! That's fantastic. I love that... They even have all the clouds the same colors. This is gorgeous. Those chains overlap the same way. Wow... That's seriously impressive how we keep seeing these subtle callbacks. I love it <3

Wrapping it up here for today! Thanks for joining me on another liveblog.

[sirenlulls]

she's thunderstorms → g. gallagher

pairing —gene gallagher x albarn!reader (diana silvers face claim!)

summary —where you're the best nepo baby pairing there is

she's been loop-the-looping around my mind. her motorcycle boots give me this kind of acrobatic blood, concertina

♡ liked by lilamoss, inhalerdublin, and 99,863 others

yourusername lots of smiles this week 😇🫶

gracieabrams ur the loml

↳ yourusername hihihi wife

genegallagher Deleting this would be a bad idea

↳ yourusername thanks for the advice king 🙏🙏

genegallagher Keep blessing the feed

↳ yourusername the grind never stops 😮‍💨

gallagher_anais the second pic speaks to me

↳ yourusername hmmmm maybe bcs you took it?

user ur so stunning omg

user the ultimate sunshine girlie

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↳ yourusername tomorrow!! xx

ruby1kid Such an angel!!!! Never stop smiling gorgeous girl 😆❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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damonalbarn Always love to see you smiling ❤️

↳ yourusername love u forever dad 🫶🥹

user she's actually perfect wtf

genegallagher just posted an instagram story!

♡ liked by gallagher_anais, stellajones, and 21,556 others

genegallagher Y/n told me to post because I give "major Phoebe Bridgers energy"

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↳ genegallagher No I've got a gf xx

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↳ genegallagher Love you a lot xx

liamgallagher Bumbaclarts

ruby1kid So gorgeous xx

user he looks like he's about to tell me im sick, and im married, and i might be dying, but im holding him like water in my hands

user need someone to hype me up the way y/n hypes gene up fr

user THE LAST PIC!!!! MUM AND DAD

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damonalbarn ❤️

liked by genegallagher

♡ liked by ryanmcmahon_15, gracebrns, and 101,489 others

yourusername fooled around n fell in love or whatever elvin bishop said

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↳ yourusername k...

liamgallagher Sappy bastards

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genegallagher Honoured to be posted with that song

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↳ genegallagher Don't let it happen again smh 😔

ruby1kid Awwww!!! Love you little angels so much!!! Sending kisses xx ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ genegallagher We love you too xx

↳ yourusername you have to come over sometime soon 🫶🫶

damonalbarn Gross 🤮🤣

↳ yourusername breaking my heart old man 💔

bobbyskeetz might be sick

↳ yourusername shut up u loser

↳ bobbyskeetz oh how you wound me

user sorry y/n and rob interaction giving me war flashbacks to gene being petty on main after he jokingly flirted with y/n

↳ user OMG STOP THE WHOLE "she likes drummers" STORY CAPTION HES SO CHILDISH I WAS WEAK

user going deep sea diving with ankle weights!!

user will never get over the shock of realising she wasn't for the girls

user how am i supposed to live knowing i'll never have this

user never beating the parents allegations i'm afraid

genegallagher just posted an instagram story!

[nitewrighter]

I was curious as to how you became a children’s librarian. I was interested in becoming one myself. I wasn’t sure if you went through the local school system or through the city.

I went through the city. I work in a public library. I started as a library assistant working in circulation, where I would work both in the circulation room and on the front desk, then I got my master's degree in library science with San Jose State University during the pandemic. SJSU has a pretty great library science program--it was completely online and asynchronous, so I'd be working about 15 hours a week on 3 classes adapted to my schedule (although many of these classes would have group projects where I would have to coordinate zoom meetings with other students, so if you're in like... a non-west coast time zone you're going to want to plan accordingly). My collection development class was kiiind of a joke but for the most part all the professors were very experienced and professional about their work and helping their students. Really I wanted to specialize in Teen Librarianship but the first ~actual librarian~ position I could move into at my current work was at the children's desk because there was an opening, so I took it. But also you should know that I'm on call and working two part time jobs, and that's how it is for a lot of librarians and libraries these days. It's not insta-full time as soon as you get a masters. It takes forever to make it to full-time. And like... good fucking luck trying to get benefits. I mean I know people don't go into librarianship because they want to make that ~cash money~ but also a lot of people go into librarianship because they have very lofty and romantic notions of librarianship and ~ooh this is where I'm meant to beeee because I enjoy this space~ and I'm just going to say maintaining a space for public use is very different from being the person experiencing that space. It takes a combination of passion, adaptability, and a certain amount of mental fortitude. There are so many old people who have not touched a computer since Bill Gates was building them out of his garage and it's your fault, librarian, that they don't know shit about fuck with technology. They want to give you their social security number and make you operate the scary light up box for them but you legally cannot fucking do the thing they are asking you to do and also jesus fuck my guy you are going to get scammed so fucking bad if this is your attitude toward this shit.

...sorry, those were war flashbacks from working the tech desk.

Children's librarianship. Okay. Well. I love being a children's librarian. I love helping kids gradually work through more and more challenging books, or finding titles related to their interests. I love the little flash of validation you see in kids eyes when they start talking about what they're currently interested in and you're actively engaging with them because, hey, this is going to help me help other kid patrons, but also yes, the "Who Would Win" and "I Survived" series are very cool. I love coming up with little fun things for storytime, andI love that kids love my puppets!

But also--remember that bit I said about how existing/experiencing a public space is different from actually maintaining that space? That goes quadruple as hard for children's librarianship because if your library is a ~wonderful safe space~ where your patrons feel ~safe~ then all of the parents will turn their brains off, never clean up after their kids, and sometimes just... fucking not even bother looking up from their phone or break out of their catatonic state on the couch as their toddler toddles towards the fucking stairs. AND I GET IT. PARENTING AS-IS IS INSANE AND UNSUSTAINABLE UNDER CAPITALISM. YOU ARE COMPLETELY BURNT OUT AND YOU FEEL SAFE AT THE LIBRARY AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE ELSE YOU'RE GOING TO GET MENTAL REPRIEVE FOR 20 MINUTES. BUT THOSE ARE FUCKING STAIRS THAT ARE GOING TO CONCUSS THE SHIT OUT OF POOR LITTLE BREIGHDYNNE, MA'AM, AND I'M HELPING OTHER PATRONS (WHICH IS MY JOB) AND YOU ARE THE PERSON WHOSE ACTUAL JOB IS MANHANDLING THAT CHILD TO SAFETY.

Also for fuck's sake, parents, I get you're nervous about putting books back in the wrong spot but that's what the reshelving shelves are for. Would you think it's acceptable to leave books all over the floor in your own house? No? Then don't do that in a space you're sharing with other people! We're in a community, people!!

Also a child will poop themselves in your children's section (I'm not talking 'baby's diaper is full' poop, I'm talking an emotionally fragile transitional kindergartener 'i got distracted and forgot to listen to my body and now I'm having a meltdown' poop) and their parent is going to carry them off at arm's length to the bathroom and you're gonna have to do a quick check to make sure their poop... fucking stayed in their pants. And there won't be any poop on the floor but it's still gonna be at the back of your mind for your whole shift because the smell wafted through the whole children's section during the parent's daring bathroom run. Just... emotionally prepare yourself for poop. You're going to see more of it than you think you're going to see in a library--whether working children's or adults.

Whoops. Wasn't done with the war flashbacks, apparently.

Look. I do love librarianship. And I do love the library I work at and the community I serve. There is a real sense of... vitalness in the work you do as a librarian, but because you're working in this public utility, you also become sharply aware of the myriad ways our society has failed our people and just how vulnerable everyone actually is, and you frequently find yourself in this kind of funky semi-improv position between like... your actual responsibilities and skills as a librarian and meeting your community's needs and also empowering them to meet their own needs!

(Very very depressing sidenote but my boss actually advised me to not go into school librarianship because a lot of schools are moving away from trying to maintain their own libraries in favor of like, more scaled down media center sort of things. Don't know how across the board that is, but also school librarianship is also a more specialized branch of librarianship within the library science career.)

[thewittyphantom]

Here's Yuri's dialogue with Yugo and Zuzu.

Yugo: Yuri! You...! Yuri: Since you were taking forever to show up, I started playing without you, Nogo. Yugo: My name is Yugo! And I know you're mistaking my name on purpose! Yuri: Wow! You do? You must've gotten smarter - by like 2 IQ points! Yugo: That's two more than you have! You just got here and already causing trouble! Yuri: What trouble? All I'm doing is Dueling. Yugo: I'm talking about the way you're Dueling! Take it easy! Yuri: Why? That's no fun. Yugo: Look...I'm trying to be nice here. You need to chill out and stop riling people up. Yuri: You're one to talk. Yugo: Say what! Yuri: Noooooothing. So are we going to begin our Duel or not? Yugo: Who says we're Dueling? Yuri: I know that's where it's going to end up, so why delay it? I know you better than you know yourself because we used to be combined as one. Yugo: Whatever. I'll Duel you as long as you leave everyone else alone. And if you apologize to Rin and Lulu. Yuri: Huh? Why do I have to do that? Yugo: Just do it! If I win, go tell 'em you're sorry! Yuri: If you defeat me, I'll think about it. But I won't have to because I'm not going to lose.

Zuzu: You're...Yuri! Yuri: It's been a while, Zuzu. Why do you look scared? Duel Academy isn't ordering me around anymore. Zuzu: ...What do you want? Yuri: Nothing major. Just a simple Duel. With all the crazy stuff going on, we never got to have our decisive match. So c'mon. Let's begin. Zuzu: If you defeat someone, do you still turn them into cards? Yuri: Cards...? Ohhhhh yeah. That used to be my thing. [flashback] Zuzu: Huh...? ......Yuya? Yuri: I heard we have a resemblance, but I'm not him. You three - step away from the girl. Or this will happen to you. Zuzu: What will? No way...What did you do to them? Yuri: Nothing they didn't deserve. I trapped their souls in these cards. That's what they get for interfering with my business. My business with you. Zuzu: So you're responsible for this? Yuri: That's right. Zuzu: Then you're a monster! Yuri: That's a bit harsh, don't you think? Zuzu: No! But I can't wait to show you what is! Yuri: Now now, watch your temper. You don't want to be turned into a card, do you? [end flashback] Zuzu: Now that the war is over, you have to promise you won't turn anyone into a card ever again! Yuri: How about this: I'll keep that promise if you defeat me in a Duel. Zuzu: ...Can I trust you? Yuri: Of course. Zuzu: Then I accept!

[dexdia]

Highly considering doing a Seven Deadly Sins rewrite myself bc man there's so much missed potential and honestly a lot of things that don't make sense or haven't been gone over enough-

My biggest gripe being the Goddess race, we barely know anything about them, the archangels were said to be oh-so-strong but 3 of them died not to long after being introduced- And my biggest gripe is that the author definitely pulled that "Bloody Ellie" thing out of his ass during the fight with Demon King Zeldris.

Like man, even the Demon race feels so lacklustre..

Oh! And don't get me started on Chaos!! Especially since its literally the entity that gets put into Arthur who's the main antagonist and villain of the sequel series!!!

Like, I'm pretty sure we don't know about chaos until it's actually revealed,,

Like in my mind, if I was to add/redo things- One of the things I'd do is make the Supreme Deity into a religious figure, being praised as the "Benevolent Goddess" among humans, setting up basically a religion- And maybe this could stem into the magic, such as human believing that the magic they hold was a blessing of the Supreme Deity.

And maybe also set up a clearer hierarchy system among the Goddess and Demon race.

I just want the Goddess race and Supreme Deity herself to play a bigger role cause man I don't really like how she was defeated within like the final 20 minutes of that one film.

Because I think it'd be so interesting to have humans actively worshiping the Goddess race, specifically dedicated to the Supreme Deity and the archangels.

Also, I'd have Chaos introduced a lot earlier- who knows, maybe I could throw in like a group that are worshippers of Chaos.

Tbh I'm just spit balling but it's mostly bc I'm so frustrated at simply how bad the author is at writing- Cause I feel like a lot of the time, he throws in ideas just because he thinks it's cool and doesn't elaborate and explore said ideas.

As I mentioned earlier, the whole "Bloody Ellie" thing ( a character who was established a pacifist in the Gloxinia + Drole flashbacks thing) as well the thing with Helbram where he talked about how fairies were captured and had their wings torn out (I believe we never hear anything about it again after Helbram tells us it), honestly many things.

Also, I just thought of another thing I'd change- Instead of having Derieri, Tarmiel and Sariel die useless deaths, I feel like we could've had Ludociel fight Esta/Mael when the Mael reveal happened bc I feel that would've been so much more impactful-

Because imagine, Ludociel finally fights the person who he thought "killed" his brother and before he goes for the finishing blow, the spell corrodes away and Ludociel is left with the shock and horror that he nearly killed his own brother.

And one more thing or else I'll be ranting forever, have Meliodas' and Elizabeth's relationship questioned and have them actually have to go through challenges

Have people question as to whether or not it was their relationship that trigger started the holy war, have other characters question the way he acts towards current Elizabeth, have Elizabeth have questions herself and wonder if the war was worth it- Let them have arguments!!

I think the only one they technically had was when Elizabeth wanted to rejoin the adventure at the start of season 2 if my memory serves me right.

But yeah.

It's just those little tweaks and add-ins that really begin to flesh it out to its potential, imo.

Anyway, rant over before I continue ranting up to 30k+ words more.

[melonteee]

I think you're one of the only YouTubers I know who are willing to give Dragon the benefit of the doubt for not doing anything so far in the story. Seems like it all started ever since we found out nothing was done to save Ginny from the Celestial Dragons and that's where the comparisons with Fisher Tiger began (what FT did Vs what Dragon did in the story)

When it comes down to it, there are two big things about the situation that makes them very different. Firstly, FT did his raid exactly one year before Ginny was kidnapped (trying anything right after him was going to be more complicated unless you get extensive intel on the new security systems at Marie Geoise) and he relied heavily on what he knew of the place he's been enslaved in for years to pull an escape then a raid. Secondly, Ginny wasn't an ordinary slave, she was forcefully made the wife of a Celestial Dragon (perhaps even a god knight) and Saturn's own well kept test subject. So even if the Revolutionary Army tried anything right away or one to two years later after getting enough intel (in between the war they were helping out in at the time) and managed to succeed in freeing the slaves of Marie Geoise... Ginny might not have been one of them as she would have been kept elsewhere due to her "importance"

I also thought about the explosive collars and wondered if they haven't actually started being used within Marie Geoise AFTER Fisher Tiger's raid ? Boa's flashback only showed her and her sisters with them at the auction house while neither Kuma or his parents had those on in his flashback of Marie Geoise. Only in present time did we see slaves with the explosive collar on AFTER being brought (CB introduction at Sabaody) so unless you're a Haki user on Rayleigh's level (which would make manually removing every single one of them take forever and be super noisy) or have keys for all the collared slaves at MG, those things might explode before any slave could leave the place in any hasty raid (Camie's collar was very sensible to any removal attempt)

I'm giving Dragon the benefit of the doubt because, for One Piece, we just all have to be patient LMAO.

Oda doesn't like showing his whole hand when he writes, he's not a writer who rushes to get to the good bits, and Dragon will definitely have a point to everything he's doing. If we all just sit back and wait, we will get our answers and reasonings at some point.

Also good read! I don't really have anything to add though HAHA