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#when sun shines again commentary
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!!my own tag and a thanks in the authors notes!! :D!! am beaming over my words being that encouraging!! you guys really are the sweetest... wow...
first off wanted to reply- my favorite in the series so far's gotta be "am I ready for love? or maybe just a best friend"! I love how the various conversations and introspections flow, love the glimpses we get there of hero's college life and friends, and him intentionally opening up to zoey at the end and receiving that support is SO lovingly written and soso important and cathartic. I also really like the 3rd and 5th chapters of "when sun shines again"- aubrey being hurt on hero's behalf and tearfully wanting for him to have a "hero" of his own and sunny and hero hanging out and the stretch at the end after leaving the coffee shop are very dear to me ("You're Hero. I think you can do anything." is SO GOOD.). those are the bits I've probably revisited the most, but "under the weather" earns a shout out too though for being the work I was introduced to this series through! I'd been hesitant on it for purely personal taste (romances aren't typically my scene, and I can have a hard time connecting to fandom OCs; so I wasn't sure if it'd be for me- again, purely on my end ^^;), but ultimately I really like hero and I'm a sucker for a good sickfic xD so I gave it a shot, and I'm really glad I did!!
I also wanted to say, if it's alright: loneliness is a topic deeply important to me, and hearing the theming and intentions in your approach to it is really cool. I really appreciate it not being as simple as a feeling that just goes away once you're around people and have a good conversation or two- hero's loneliness is self-inflicted and behavioral, and something the work actively seeks to have him face, little by little. hearing your plans longterm in how you aim to handle it and where you plan to go makes me all the more excited to see what you guys have cooking!! I wholeheartedly believe it's good and important to tell and explore the kind of story this whole project is, and I thank you heartily for doing so.
(gonna cut myself short here and circle back around to share my thoughts on chapter 7 when I've got more time, so best tidings til then!) -🩶
Awww hello 🩶 Anon-Friend! It is such a joy to see you in our inbox again. Thank you so much for your ask!! 💕
You are so sweet, and you're very welcome for the words of thanks in the author's note for the most recent chapter. (We hope you enjoyed the chapter & that it was a good one for your thank you). The encouragement really means so much to us. It's a bit like Aubrey's "Pep Talk" skill in Headspace. Just getting told "You Can Do It" and that someone is actually very excited to read what we write, is interested in our project, and thinks that it is a meaningful and important story to tell is incredibly motivating! At this point, we have such a clear vision of this story and these characters in our minds so there's less of that sense of urgency to actually write it down (because we already know what happens), so to be told by someone else, "Hey, I really love this and I'm invested and I want to know what happens too" is really a great inspiration and motivation to finally get it written and posted for other people who want to see it. So really, thank you so much again for sharing that and all of your thoughts with us! It means everything 💖
Thank you so much for sharing about your favorite parts of the project so far too! We've put most of the discussion of that under the cut because of OMORI spoilers and because this ask is, once again, very lengthy. Apologies in advance for all the ramblings. ^^
It means so much to hear that you deeply connected with "Am I Ready For Love? Or Maybe Just A Best Friend" especially because that was kind of our way of testing the waters and seeing if there was even an interest in a story like this.
We honestly would have had no hard feelings if it just wasn't anyone's cup of tea. It's kind of funny, the personal preferences in fics & genres that you mentioned in your ask are very similar to mine (Acacia's). I have been writing fanfiction for over a decade (though was only was brave enough to start posting it a couple years ago), but I think I have written Canon Character x OC only 2 times ever and never, ever when there was an existing pairing. I also usually don't write romance at all. It's just generally not my thing and I generally prefer the platonic relationships between characters, but just like you said, ultimately, I love Hero and telling this story about his life after the good ending and giving him the chance to heal and to be happy and to open himself up to love again (if that's what he wants) was so important to me that I decided to give it a try even though it often feels I'm probably not the best person for the task. 😅
I think that's one of the big reasons why "When Sun Shines Again" is so broad in scope and is about so much more than just the (eventual) romance plotline. I mean we are over 54,000 words into this story and they haven't even met yet which I do feel guilty about but honestly it's because this story isn't just about that. It's about Hero making peace with his grief and learning how to build a new life for himself around it. The things that he has been through in his life are not things that he'll ever completely get over, but he can learn to get past them and can learn to be happy again. His life won't be the same as it was when Mari was alive, but that doesn't mean it can't be happy and can't be meaningful.
Again, we are both such passionate HeroMari shippers and we do sincerely hope that our series, even if it does involve Hero eventually finding love again, still reflects the reverence, respect, and love that we have for that relationship and how much we also wish that they had gotten their "forever." The last thing we would ever want to do is to try to erase or replace Mari, and I think that was one of the big inspirations for the "Am I Ready For Love..." story.
When I was first trying to imagine who is this person that Hero might open his heart to again, this scene--where he opens up to her about Mari--was the scene I could see vividly in my mind. I just kept going back to this idea of him being vulnerable with her and trusting her enough to tell her about Mari, back before it's even "relevant" since they're not dating (and that's not even on the radar). They're just friends, so she doesn't even really have to know (technically), but (like you so aptly said in your ask), he "intentionally open[s] up to her" because she sees him. She sees how lonely he is and how much he's hurting. And ultimately he shares this deeply personal pain with her, even though he doesn't know how she's going to react, and (l think it's addressed in multiple different side stories but) he is so moved and just awed by the fact that she cares about him so much that she cries.
It hasn't come up yet but will be established in "When Sun Shines Again" that Zoey is not a crier. Kyle has a line a couple of chapters from now about how he has only seen her cry one time (and "it was awful" and he "never want[s] to see that again") so this is kind of a big thing for her as a character. But even beyond that, to be shown such empathy and such support, means everything to Hero regardless of whether this person never cries or cries all the time. He has finally shared this very vulnerable part of himself that he never opens up about because he's so worried about hurting someone, and she cries--not because she's hurt or broken for her own sake but because her heart aches for him and his suffering. When she tells him that she wishes he had gotten his forever with Mari, she means it, even though she knows that might mean they would never meet, would never become friends. His happiness is more important to her than even that.
And to us, that's real love--in a platonic sense here, of course, but that qualifier really shouldn't matter. The fact that he's not even dating her at this point was intentional. It's platonic between them, but she still loves him this much and she shows him the support that Hero has so desperately wanted but never really allowed himself to have. Even if nothing romantic ever developed between them, Hero finding a friend in her and opening himself up and allowing himself to be vulnerable and ultimately finding that support and that comfort is so important. If anything it's more important than the idea of him finding "romantic love" again.
As much time & effort as we have devoted to this universe in which Hero loves romantically again, neither one of us are convinced that he needs a romantic relationship to be happy. It's very possible he will never even want one, and that's okay. But everyone wants and needs to be loved. And we are convinced that Hero will need friends, will need family, will need to open his heart to someone in some way (even a platonic one) in order to ever be happy again.
We named that fic after these really poignant lines from AJR's song "Turning Out" (YouTube; Spotify link in song title):
Am I ready for love? Or maybe just a best friend Should there be a difference Do you have instructions?
And we chose this because one of the big themes in this story and at this point in Hero's life, is that it doesn't really matter if he's ready for romantic love or just having a best friend again. What matters is that he opens himself up to love again in general. He closed off his heart when Mari died, not just to romance but to the love of his friends and family too, and it left him lonely. It's amazing how you addressed that in your ask as well and it means a lot to hear that you are really compelled by how we're handling that in the series so far too. Loneliness is a deeply painful experience because deep down everyone wants to be loved for who they really are and for their own sake. Hero cutting himself off from that has just left stagnant in misery, and we absolutely agree with you that a lot of this is self-inflicted and will not have an easy or quick fix but will be an ongoing process of healing and slowly opening his heart again. We hope we'll be able to do justice to that journey in our story because we truly believe that the only way for him to really break free from that kind of suffering is to allow himself to be vulnerable again.
And this means, to be vulnerable with anyone who loves him. When what matters is that Hero allows himself to be comforted, to be cared for, to be cried for, and to be loved again, there really shouldn't be a qualifier on that kind of love (i.e. romantic or platonic). In this case, there really shouldn't be a difference.
There are really no words to describe how much it means to us to hear you describe that scene as "SO lovingly written and so so important and cathartic." That was absolutely 100% what we were going for and what I really tried convey when I was writing it so it is so encouraging to hear that we succeeded in that.
We're also thrilled to hear that you enjoyed the Aubrey and Sunny chapters as well. Aubrey is my favorite character beside Hero and Sunny is Sprinkles' favorite, so I think we really brought our A-game for those chapters especially. 😅 In a lot of ways, those are kind of unexplored and underrated friendships so it was really nice to get to the opportunity to really give each of those the spotlight, and I'm honestly squealing a little at the specific lines and moments that you've chosen as especially meaningful to you. I actually cried real tears when I wrote that scene between Aubrey and Hero where she kind of breaks down and begs him to find someone to open up to and rely on because he's always been that person for her. I think it really sets the scene for what the rest of this story (particularly in this college portion) is really about.
That line from Sunny is one of my favorites in the series so far as well. We were really struggling a lot with how to end that Sunny chapter when I suddenly had this spark of inspiration of ending with this scene where Hero expresses this sort of uncertainty about his future and I could just hear that line from Sunny reassuring him that "You're Hero. I think you can do anything" and just kind rekindling that sense of purpose in him since he really has been so lost since Mari passed away.
Lastly, I'll admit I was a little surprised but very giddy to hear that it was actually "Under The Weather" that first got you interested in this series. That was an extremely self-indulgent fanfiction I wrote for my birthday, so I honestly wasn't really expecting anyone else to connect with it but I posted it anyway just in case (especially since like you mentioned, I think a lot of people enjoy sick fics). I've been so flattered and really blown away to hear that people have enjoyed that story and been moved by it. It's definitely one of my personal favorites, and it really means a lot to hear that not only is it dear to you too but also that it got you interested and invested in "When Sun Shines Again." 🥺
Thank you so much for sharing that with us and for sharing all of your lovely thoughts & feedback! We've really enjoyed getting to hear your very thoughtful takes and getting to have these discussions with you. Please take care, friend! 💙
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this-doesnt-endd · 4 months
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I love the museum scene from ferris bueller so much not only cause its just great but also cause like everytime i see it i see myself and think about how special that kind of moment is
#i talk abt this often but like cause it impacted me so much#cause like i had the worst experince for my second half of highschool and my dad who also didnt like highschool understood#the importance of like taking the day off abd he'd let me skip and call me in sick and have a ferris bueller day as we called it#cause its a movie we both deeply loved and loved together#and at first id just stay at home in bed not getting up with the movie in the background and like eventually i started to do things w my da#cause my mom didnt know and she couldnt know so id go out and do things so it wasnt noticiable i was home all day#and like id walk around my neighborhood and go to musuem and movies and listen to new music and go to parks and places i hadnt been before#trying to give myself the best day show myself something good and slowly i went from rotting away to being like im taking a stand#im not letting my life unfold around me and i went out and did things i wanted to do and learned about all the things i wanted to#and was actually like involving myself in like what i wanted my future to be i went to plays and art museums and the movies#and when i see that scene i think of john huges commentary and how the museum was a place of refuge for him and so he came back to it#and put it in his movie and allowed it to be thst again and it was for arguably his like magnum opus#and that scene just fills me with such a sense of peace and nostalgia and hope and i cry everytime!#and everytime that movie is in theatres i go and see it and after its all over and i walk out and feel the sun shine on my face#everything for a moment feels like its gonna be okay and i think of my dad and the first time i saw this movie in elementary school#on one of those days he just had off and we took the day off together and how during the moment in my life everyone else was telling me#abt how important school was even when it was killing me he knew that sometimes you just had to take the day off and take it easy#and he let me everytime without questiom cause he knew what it meant and how much it meant to me
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starlingflight · 5 months
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loml
Written for @corneliaavenue-ao3 TTPD Several Sunlit Daylights challenge.
Read on AO3 or below:
I. lesson of my life
Every illusion Ginny has ever had is shattered over the course of a single night. 
She doesn't go into the chamber willingly. She claws, and scratches and fights against Tom's commands with all her might. She cries, and she struggles, but in the end it makes no difference. She isn't strong enough. As the darkness swallows her up, her final childish hope is for a rescue she knows isn't coming. 
When she opens her eyes again it doesn't feel like a miracle. The cold from the stone floor has seeped through her skin, a chill has settled deep in her bones and she knows, with absolute certainty, it will never fully go away. 
Of course Harry is there, holding a mighty sword, a dead monster behind him. The very image of the conquering hero she's always fantasised about, but this isn't like one of Ginny's fantasies. He's covered in blood, and his eyes are wide with the same terror that's taken root deep within her soul. There's no triumph in this moment, only horror. 
This isn't a dream. It's a nightmare. One that Ginny won't fully wake up from for a very long time. 
She learns many lessons that night, but the most important one will come later. After she's spent weeks, months, years putting herself back together, because Harry might have rescued her from the chamber, but, as Ginny will come to realise, the only person who can really save you is yourself.
II. light of my life
Harry's never known a darkness like this. It starts when he watches Sirius fall through the veil, tiny tendrils of black slowly leaking out from his heart, unfurling with increasing urgency until he's overwhelmed by a cold, empty abyss that he's sure nothing will ever penetrate again. How can it when Sirius is never coming back? 
He doesn't even notice the first ray of light. It happens so quickly. He's in the hospital wing, trying very hard to let Hermione's commentary on the latest news from The Prophet distract him from the aching chasm in his chest, and the unbearable weight of the prophecy, when it happens. 
Luna says something completely ridiculous about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks – whatever they are – Harry can feel Hermione's exasperation from across the small gap that separates her bed from Ron's. Ginny's chocolate eyes meet his, and something happens that he'd assumed would never happen again. 
Harry smiles. 
It's fleeting, lasting less than a second.  There's very little time to dwell on it before they're looking away from one another, and the grief washes over him again, a tidal wave that steals the air from his lungs. 
That's just the beginning though… or maybe the beginning had been years ago. Maybe the blush he'd once thought of as the setting sun had actually been the opposite; Ginny's light rising, her warm, rosy glow beginning its ascent into his life. 
She continues to rise that summer, forcing the darkness back with her sheer brightness. Her smile turns black to grey; her laugh is powder pinks and bright oranges; the jokes she coaxes from him are pure, cloudless blue. 
When she runs at him across the common room months later, she's blazing, burning red. When she reaches him, when Harry finally kisses Ginny, the sun reaches its apex and his whole life is awash with bright, brilliant gold. 
For a few shining weeks there are only sunlit days. 
III. loss of my life
Fittingly, they're at a funeral when it happens. Ginny always knew he had great comedic timing. She's not laughing, however, as Harry lays out all his stupid, noble reasons why they can't be together. She's not crying either, though; that feels like a small mercy. The only one she's going to get for a while. 
She does cry when she finally makes it home. It's silly, she knows. Silly, foolish, naive Ginny Weasley, a familiar, cold voice whispers through her mind. For once, she doesn't try to argue with it, but she doesn't try to stop either. 
Instead, she buries her face into her pillow and lets herself sob until her eyes run dry. Her tears aren't just for her broken heart, but for everything Ginny's already had to sacrifice; her childhood, her innocence. 
It isn't until weeks later that she realises the true magnitude of what she stands to lose. 
“And then what does she think's going to happen? Someone else will kill off Voldemort while she's holding us here making vol-au-vents?” 
The fork Ginny is holding almost slips from her grasp. Her heart falters in her chest. Harry playing his flippant comment off a joke does nothing to return it to a steady rhythm. 
It plays round and round in her mind that night. Her knuckles are ghostly white where they grip her bedsheet. Vaguely, she'd known what he'd planned to do, but vague notions and knowing with absolute certainty are two very different things. The task Harry brought up so nonchalantly in the kitchen is nothing short of a suicide mission. It hits Ginny with the force of a barrage of stunning spells, knocking the air from her lungs; Harry might not come back to her. 
Two days later, when she kisses him in her bedroom, it doesn't feel like she's saying happy birthday, it feels like she's saying goodbye.
When Harry follows Ron out of her bedroom door, he takes a piece of Ginny with him, one she prays she hasn't lost forever. 
IV. longing of my life
She haunts him like a ghost. What was once screaming colour and pure unfiltered brightness is now just a memory, a pale imitation permanently stuck on repeat in his mind. 
Harry moves stoically from one hiding place to another and, though they're separated by miles, Ginny follows him to every single one. 
He can hear her laugh in the wind that shakes the canvas sides of the tent. He can see her smile in the sunlight that penetrates the thick canopy of the forests they move between. At night, when he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend the sheet brushing against his skin is her fingertips. 
It's worse when he has the locket on. Then, he's tormented with visions like the one he'd imagined on his birthday; of her moving on. Finding someone else. Living a life that can never be his. 
Horcrux or no, he can't stop himself thinking about her. Aching for her. Longing for her. 
He clings to memories of Ginny like scraps of driftwood, the only thing keeping Harry afloat when he's been set adrift. 
V. lament of my life
It's like the chamber all over again. Ginny's whole world is flipped upside down in the space of a single night. 
She doesn't see Fred go. She doesn't know the last time she sees her big brother that it's the last time.  
“Take care of yourself,” he'd shouted over his shoulder as Ginny had gone hurtling down a corridor in pursuit of a Death Eater.
“Don't I always?’ she'd called back. 
What if she'd told him to do the same? Would he have listened? Would he still be there? 
There's very little time to dwell on such questions in the middle of a battle.  Especially not when every passing second brings another devastating loss. 
Lupin. Tonks. Colin. 
Ginny's heart shatters into a million little pieces until it doesn't exist at all. Or so she thinks, until she sees Harry's body cradled in Hagrid’s arms. 
Then she knows she still has a heart, because it's in unbearable agony. She doubles over from the pain of it. His name escapes her lips on a scream, as though she might be able to call him back to life through sheer desperation. 
Tom Riddle talks; for the second time in Ginny's life, she's unable to hear him, but this isn't like the Chamber at all. This time Ginny wishes she was dead. 
When the battle resumes, she jumps straight into it with wild abandon. Ginny's lamentation is not filled with tears, or wailing. It's fire and rage for everything that's been taken from her. Tom Riddle already stole her past. Now he's taken her future. She will take everything she can from him, or die trying. 
VI. lowest of my life
He's never truly let himself imagine what it might be like to actually defeat Voldemort. If he had, Harry doubts he would have pictured it like this. 
If it's a win, why is there so much loss? 
He doesn't know whether the grief or the hope is more overwhelming. They mingle together, like waves in the ocean, swelling and breaking, threatening to pull Harry under. 
He can feel it crash over him as he stands in the great hall the day after the battle. The bodies are still there; all the people who don't get the second chance Harry does are laid out in front of him. Lifeless eyes staring, unseeing, up at the enchanted ceiling. 
The guilt and the pain sweep through him like ice water, filling his lungs; rising up in Harry's throat until there's no possible room for air. He takes a step back, desperate to flee somewhere he can sink down into the cold, lonely depths. 
Before he can, a hand, small and warm, slips into his, pulling Harry back to the surface. He releases one, long, deep breath before looking at her. 
Ginny's attempt at a smile is tinged with sadness, sunlight peeking through dark grey clouds. 
Only hours ago, he'd contemplated all the things he needed to say to her, but now no words are exchanged at all.  Only a look. It's all they need. All they've ever needed. Everything has changed. But he's still Harry, and she's still Ginny. 
Instinctively his arm comes around her. Ginny buries her face in his chest, sagging slightly against him, as though she was waiting for this moment to let herself rest. Like she needs him as much as he needs her. 
Harry's head rests against hers, the floral scent of her shampoo is faint, lingering beneath everything that's happened. It makes his heart falter anyway. He holds her tightly to him, something he never thought he'd get the chance to do again.  As he's come to expect, time seems to stop for her. They stay like that for what might only be seconds, or possibly an entire lifetime passes. 
Eventually, Ginny pulls out of his grasp. It takes less than a second for her hand to find his again, fingers entwining. She pulls gently, silently commanding him to follow her. Harry almost asks where they're going, but he doesn't really need to. He's free to go wherever he pleases now. He'll follow her anywhere. 
Ginny looks up at him as they walk towards the double doors. He can still see the embers of her blazing light smouldering in the dark depths of her eyes. He was right, there will be hours, days, and years in which to talk, but he doesn't need her to say a word now to know where she's taking him. He lets her pull him forward, lets her light guide him to a future he's still not sure he deserves to have. 
VII. loser of my life
For a while, Ginny thinks she'll never recover from the loss, from the grief and the heartache. It's not the first time she's felt this way, but this time she doesn't have to face it alone. Once she has Harry back, he doesn't leave her side again. 
They fall back together naturally. They stitch themselves back together slowly until one day, years later, the sun is blazing brightly in the sky, the pleasant summer breeze is ruffling the grass beneath her feet, and Ginny feels whole again. 
“Ready?” Her father asks, holding out his arm out to her. 
“Ready,” Ginny agrees, threading her hand through the crook of his elbow. Holding her colourful bouquet of wildflowers in front of her with her free hand. 
There have been times, in her darkest moments, when she wished she was someone else. A girl who hasn't dwelt in a darkness that most people don't ever see even in their worst nightmares; a witch who hasn't looked into the eyes of evil and refused to bend, refused to break; a woman who hasn't lost things that can never ever be replaced. 
Now, as soft music begins to swell in the summer air, and her gaze locks on Harry, waiting for her at the end of the makeshift aisle formed by the rows of chairs that have been put out in her parent's orchard, Ginny doesn't regret any of it. Everything she's lost is a step she's taken towards this. 
She can feel dozens of heads turn towards her, but Ginny only has eyes for Harry, and he, it appears, only has eyes for her. His smile makes the sun look dim in comparison. Still, the corner of his mouth trembles; even from a distance, Ginny can see emotion well up behind his glasses. 
‘Don't you dare,' she mouths, feeling her throat tighten as she does. Her arm stretches out, lifting her bouquet like it's a wand, miming hexing him. She's closer now. She can hear the tremor in his laugh as he puts his arms up in mock surrender. 
It's too late; the laughter she's coaxed from him doesn't stop the tear that slips down his cheek. Of course, one of her own escapes only a half a second later. 
“We look like such losers,” Ginny informs him, shaking her head, as her fingers slip from her father's arm into Harry's awaiting hand. 
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, quietly enough for only her to hear. He's still smiling as another tear slides unconcernedly down his face. His free hand reaches up, his thumb swipes away the ones that are currently leaking traitorously from Ginny's eyes. “But you're my loser.” 
It takes her a moment to regain her breath. A fleeting second in which she can't quite believe they're here; that they made it. Then she smiles even wider than before. “Not officially – not until we get through this ceremony.” 
Harry's gaze holds hers. Ginny almost forgets they have an audience. The world reduces down to just the two of them, grinning madly at one another. Harry's fingers squeeze her hand. “We'd best get on with it then.
VIII. legacy of my life
Books are filled with what many consider to be his finest achievements. Tales of thrilling battles, speculations on unsurvivable curses, and records of great victories are inked across the pages of history. 
As are the many titles thrust upon Harry; The  Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, Saviour.  To him, they're little more than noise, assumptions from people who don't really know him, and never will.
When he slips the wedding ring onto Ginny's finger, Harry gets the first title he's ever chosen for himself: husband. Her husband. 
Not long after, he gains another one, this one unplanned, but no less momentous. James, tiny, and so precious, is placed into his arms, and Harry becomes a father. 
His real legacy begins there. It's not just his, it's hers too. Their legacy. 
It's recorded in baby books and photo albums rather than history books. It's memorialised in finger paintings and handmade Christmas ornaments (made under Ginny's expert supervision) instead of plaques and statues. It's hundreds of little memories of their family that will never see the inside of a newspaper, but that doesn't make them any less noteworthy, not to Harry, who'd never dared to imagine that this life could be his one day. 
IX. love of my life
“Dinner!” Her mother calls from the back door of The Burrow, her voice ringing out across the garden. 
The sun is setting, dipping below the topmost branches of the orchard. The sky is a tapestry of pinks, purples and golds, stretching out for miles above them. 
“What do you think?” Ginny asks as her feet meet the ground, dismounting from her broom. “Could I make it as a pro?” 
Harry lands beside her. His eyes sweep appraisingly over her. Ginny's stomach swoops like she's still in the air. “I don't know,” he says thoughtfully. “The League is brutal. It requires rigorous training.” 
Ginny shrugs unconcernedly, hoisting her broom onto her shoulder as she does. “Do you know any Quidditch captains who might be interested in helping me with such an undertaking?” 
“I know one who might be able to make some time for you this summer,” Harry says as he falls into step beside her. He inclines his head towards her broom.“I can take it for you?”
Ginny's eyes narrow, prepared to tell him she's perfectly capable of carrying her own broom, but, when she turns, the way he's looking at her makes her heart race, and the words die on her tongue. without her permission, her expression transforms into a grin. “Very chivalrous of you.” 
A weight is lifted from her as Harry settles her broom beside his on his shoulder. “That's kind of what I'm known for.” 
“Only ‘kind of’?” Ginny's eyes wander to the quickly darkening sky above them as she laughs. “In that case, I'll be sure to let people know of this latest act of heroism – personally, I don't think you get enough attention.” 
“Well, if that's how you feel, you could always give me more.” 
Ginny stops midstep. Her head turns sharply back to Harry. She should keep walking, the words that are on the tip of her tongue will lead to something that neither of them planned for on this particular summer evening. 
Harry's eyebrows rise upwards; even in the dusk, Ginny can see the challenge sparking in his eyes. Unbidden, she takes a step towards him. “Are you flirting with me, Potter?” 
He doesn't back down, but he doesn't make a move towards her either. The brooms he's holding clatter together as he shrugs with just a bit too much tension in his shoulders to be truly nonchalant. “I might be.” 
Ginny's blood thrums in her veins as she takes another step towards him. “Need I remind you that I'm spoken for?” 
“How could I forget?” Harry's head lowers despite her reminder, until he's so close Ginny can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. “I suppose he's deeply in love with you?” 
“Yes,” she nods with absolute certainty. “And I feel the same about him.” 
Harry's head dips lower, the determination in his eyes making his intention clear. Ginny rises on her tiptoes, unable to fight the pull that always inevitably beckons her to him. 
Barely an inch of space remains between them. Her heart flutters wildly– 
“Oi!” The loud, obnoxious shout comes from the far end of the orchard, making Ginny jump. She turns towards it and finds a lanky figure glaring at them from where he leans against the fence. “When you're done being disgusting, Nanna says to hurry up – dinner’s ready and the rest of us aren't allowed to start without you.” 
James doesn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and marching back towards the house. 
Ginny rolls her eyes at her son's retreating back. Her hand slips into Harry's, the most contact they're getting, at least until after dinner. “Remind me again why we had children?” 
Harry sighs, allowing her to lead him towards the gate James has just departed from. “You said they'd be cute.” 
“Well, they used to be,” she says fairly as she pushes the gate open with her free hand. “I wasn't thinking as far as them becoming teenagers.” 
Harry nods seriously. “Really, who could've predicted such an unforeseeable outcome.” 
Ginny looks up at him as he follows her through the gate. Brown eyes meet green through the burgeoning twilight. Two identical smiles bloom like flowers in spring. 
“Certainly not you, judging by your appalling Divination grades.” 
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wicknasty · 8 days
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older bf!john wick teaches you to fish :33
readers a little “blonde” here, all fluff
check end for notes err
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The sun shined brightly and radiated an intolerable wave of heat.
It wasn’t unusual for your summers to be hot but this was the hottest summer you’d had in years. Good thing you didn’t have to worry about cooling down in an overcrowded public pool since your boyfriend arranged for the two of you to stay on a lakefront for the summer.
“It is hot as hell out here..” You waved your hand to generate a small wind to help you cool off a little. You walked down off of the back porch, your toes burning as you walked across the heated pavement of the steps and towards John.
You made it down to the edge of the dock where you found the older man standing with a fishing rod in his hand. He knew you were standing behind him, but was so consumed by the vision of the beautiful summer nature that he couldn’t turn around to face you just yet.
You wrapped your arms around his waist and rest your head on his back. The soft fabric of his shirt against your cheek made you melt more than you already did in the heat. You stood and enjoyed the silent moment before he spoke up.
“Your skin is burnin’ up.” He spoke matter-of-factly. His hands came up to run over your arms and hands, his thumb caressing your knuckles.
“Duh..it’s hot out.” You let go of him and walked over to the little radio sat close by.
The silence of the summer was interrupted by the commentary from the radio host and the beginning of the next song.
“Hey..I like this song.” You smiled as you listened to “Here Comes Your Man” by Pixies. You started to approach John, acting like you were pulling him towards you on a rope.
He smiled at your little gesture and pulled you in when you got close enough. He let his eyes scan your face for a moment before he leaned down and kissed you.
“Did you wanna try this?” He moved his arms from your waist and pushed the fishing rod between the two of you.
“I don’t know how to fish…” You replied quietly, a little embarrassed about the lack of experience you had with fishing.
He smiled as the basic idea dawned on him.
“I could teach you. It’s easy.” He looked at you and noticed your face lit up a little.
“You’d do that?” You spoke excitedly, holding your hands together and smiling.
“I’d do anything for you. You make it that easy for me.” He spoke plainly, as if what he was saying was all so simple.
“Oh John..” You cooed as you spun around. He laughed and shook his head slightly before speaking again.
“Go find a pair of shoes, you’re gonna need ‘em.” He nodded his head toward the house while speaking.
When you returned, you were in his boots that were way too big for you. He laughed a little at that sight and waved you over to the edge of the dock where he was still standing. As you started to make your way down, you watched as he cast another line out into the water.
“I don’t know about this baby..” You spoke nervously as you held onto the fishing rod while he placed bait on the hook.
“Don’t be nervous. I’m right here so nothing will go wrong.” He reassured you in a soft voice, his big hands coming up to hold onto your hips as he stood behind you. The feeling of his thumbs rubbing the soft skin of your lower back made you shiver.
“Ready?”
“Well-“ Your sentence was cut short by his hands coming up from your hips to your hands to assist in casting that line.
You watched as the hook hit the water and started to sink. You were silent as you studied the water for any action.
“So when’s the fish supposed to come up?” You asked, tearing your eyes away from the lake and turning around to look at John.
“There’s no set time the fish comes up,” He starts. “It just does, and then all you can do is hope you reel it in before it figures the bait is a trick.”
“Oh.” You looked down at your shoes before a little sound drew your attention.
John’s hands closed over yours as he helped you reel in whatever just bit the hook. You could smell his woodsy cologne as he stood behind you and could feel his chest rising and falling as he took slow breaths.
“I got one? I got one!” You shouted as you watched the fish come up from the water.
“Yeah you did baby,” John smiled as he brought the fish closer to the two of you. “It’s a pumpkinseed.”
You leaned in to examine your first catch. The fish was small and multicolored like something out of a child’s drawing. It was beautiful and you felt so proud to catch something like it for your first time.
John removed the fish from the hook and put it into a little bucket next to him.
“That was fun.” You perked up as you took your shoes off and sat down on the edge of the dock.
“You did good kid.” He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist.
“Hey..thanks.” You replied in a soft tone.
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whew okay.. this is my first write so plz be graceful :3 i hope you guys liked this!
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spookyjuicefiction · 11 months
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Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 2
Part 1 Masterlist A/N: no thoughts, just bitchy vampire man and his Big Feelings
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In spite of his nagging uncertainty regarding what had happened between he and Tav the night before, Astarion emerged from his tent that morning in the best mood he'd felt in ages. His mind felt clearer than he could ever remember, and he could hardly even feel the scratching of his thirst in his throat. He only wished he didn't have Tav's blood to thank for it. He hated feeling like he owed her something.
Still, her willingness to allow him to drink from her boded well for his plan to seduce her into submission. With his newfound strength, he was ready to turn on the charm and entice her to his bed for a different purpose this time. And, well, if he could get a little blood out of it as well, then the deal was all the sweeter.
He was happily busying himself by packing up to head out for the day when Karlach's voice cut through the morning quiet around the campsite: "Gods, what in the hells happened to you?"
He turned to look. Tav had just emerged from her tent, and she really did look like hell. She was unusually pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair hung limply around her face and her shoulders sagged. Astarion winced slightly at the sight, knowing it was likely due to blood loss from his overindulgence.
"Didn't sleep well," she grumbled, helping herself to a scoop of scrambled eggs at the campfire. Shadowheart and Gale, who were eating nearby, exchanged a worried look that Tav did not miss.
"I'm fine," she insisted, "no need to worry. Had.. a headache that kept me up last night, that's all."
Astarion smirked to himself. That's one way of putting it.
If Tav was insisting she was fine, Astarion was not about to spoil his good day feeling guilty about her. He walked in the front of the party for once, cracking jokes and making witty commentary. He did not realize what a wide departure this was from his usual petulant brooding in the back of the group until Shadowheart fell into step beside him that afternoon.
"You're unusually cheerful today," she remarked. "Any particular reason?"
"Well, darling, the sun is shining, there are so many people that need killing, and I am exceedingly good looking. What more does one need to be cheerful?"
Shadowheart huffed out a laugh. After a moment, she asked, "there wouldn't be any particular reason why you're full of boundless energy and Tav is so exhausted she can barely walk, is there?"
"What?" He asked too quickly. "Why would you ask that?"
"No reason, just an observation," her voice intoned innocence, but Astarion could see impishness in her eyes and playing at the corners of her mouth.
He frowned, irritated. "I don't know what you're insinuating, darling, but in case you forgot: all Tav and I ever do is argue. We don't spend a lot of quality time together."
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Please. Haven't you ever heard how schoolboys taunt and tease little girls when they have a crush on them?"
"A crush?!" Astarion's voice came out higher pitched than he would've liked. "What an asinine and juvenile notion, even for you." He snorted. "I assure you, I wish Tav nothing but pure misery for the rest of her days."
He saw the half-elf roll her eyes again. "If you say so, Astarion."
"I do say so," he snapped, and then sped up so that they were no longer walking in step. So much for not spoiling a good day.
It only got worse when Tav insisted they would help two idiots find their sister who was apparently taken by a hag, and this led them through the nastiest, most putrid bog Astarion had ever seen. Every day he missed Baldur's Gate more.
"Who cares about some brat? If she went to a hag, that sounds like her business," he complained through gritted teeth as foggy bog water splashed over his boots.
"Hags perverse magic. They're foul creatures. The people of this area won't be safe until she's disposed of." Tav led the group now, apparently undeterred by the unpleasantness of their walk.
"Goodness, I've never heard you so vicious!" Astarion brought his hand to his heart in mock shock. "I guess the kitten does have claws."
"Tav is right. We can't let this hag get away with using magic to lure innocents into false deals," said Gale, and Astarion rolled his eyes. Of course that bookish fiend would rush to her defense. He wanted to shoot an arrow into his stupid hair.
"I look forward to cutting her down. It has been many days since we've seen combat," Lae'zel hissed, cracking her knuckles. "I ache for battle."
"Well, I don't," Astarion sniffled. "I ache for a massage and a nice bottle of brandy."
"Perhaps we should rest for lunch and gather our strength before we charge in with weapons blazing," piped up Wyll, indicating a dry-looking hill that would suit. The others mumbled agreement and made their way up to the spot, fanning out to sit on rocks and pull food out of their packs.
Astarion settled on a large, fallen tree on the edge of the clearing and pulled an apple out of his bag and began to peel it, so as to appear that he was eating. To his chagrin, Tav sat on the other end of the log, shooting him an annoyed look.
"Must you always complain?"
But something had caught Astarion's eye and he turned to take it in: a man was approaching their group, and he seemed to be heavily armed. Being the closest to him, Astarion and Tav rose quickly to intercept him.
"Greetings," the man said with a good-natured smile that immediately set Astarion on edge, for some reason. "Forgive the aroma. Powdered iron-vine, and old hunters' trick. Most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me."
Ugh. Astarion wrinkled his nose. "You're a monster hunter? I'm surprised. I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats." He could hear the rest of the party's footsteps approaching behind him. Tav shot him a withering look.
"Ignore the elf, he talks too much," she told the Gur, turning back to him. "What sort of monster are you hunting?"
"A vampire spawn," Astarion stiffened, narrowing his eyes, "but I fear he's gone to ground. I am hoping the hag of these lands can help me flush him out, if I can afford her blood price. When I saw your group, I thought it was best to warn you. His name is Astarion, and he may be very, very dangerous."
"Indeed," Tav cut in, taking a step forward. She had noticed Astarion's hands moving toward his daggers. "And what will you do with this 'Astarion' if you find him? Kill him?"
"No," the man replied. "My orders are to take him back to Baldur's Gate. My people wait for me there."
Tav cleared her throat. "Well, we thank you for your warning. We'll be sure to keep a sharp eye out."
The Gur nodded. "Safe travels, then." He gave a wave to the group at large and headed away down the hill. Nobody moved until he was out of sight. Then Tav turned to look at Astarion, and he was sure everyone else was also.
"Well, I guess that's the cat out of the bag, then," he said, turning to face them. "Surprise?"
No one said anything for a minute. Finally, Wyll was the one who broke the silence.
"Well, mate, I'd say we've all got our hangups. As long as you keep your fangs to yourself, I see no harm in carrying on as things have been."
"Agreed," Shadowheart said, and Gale nodded along.
"If you so much as bare your teeth in my direction, I will not hesitate to slice you open from sternum to groin." Lae'zel, obviously.
"Now, there will be no need for any groin slicing," said Astarion raising his hands innocently. "I haven't tried to bite anyone so far, have I? Well, I would've bitten Karlach if it wouldn't have melted my perfect face off."
Karlach laughed at that and wiggled her eyebrows. "What you wouldn't give for a taste of Mama K! But you're alright with me, Fangs. No hard feelings."
All eyes turned to Tav. Of course, thought Astarion, no decisions can be made without her final approval.
"Then we're all settled. Now, finish up so we can go hunt some hag."
Astarion could only stare as everyone made their way back over to their packs. That was it? No one wanted to fight him? No one had given him over to the Gur? Wyll had called him mate? He was completely dumbfounded. What game were they all playing? Were they all actually insane, or did everything else, including vampirism, seem normal in comparison to the tadpole problem?
The whole ordeal set his teeth on edge for the rest of the day, swearing they were whispering to each other about him behind his back. But nothing had changed at all, aside from Karlach calling out "nice one, Fangs!" when he struck the hag with a particularly good shot during the battle. When they made camp that night, no one even moved their tents further away from his.
Astarion couldn't stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. He stood tensely outside of his tent door pretending to read a book, but staring over the pages at the others to catch them conspiring, Thus, his heckles were already raised when Tav picked her way over to him.
"So, what do the Gur want with you, do you reckon?"
What are we, bosom buddies now? "How the hell should I know?"
"You must have some idea."
Astarion sighed and closed the book.
"I expect Cazador sent him."
Tav's eyebrows shot up. "You think so?"
"I know so." Astarion frowned. "It's very like him to send a... message like that." Noticing Tav's confusion at this admittedly vague explanation, he continued, "It was Gur who attacked me the night Cazador turned me. Sending one after me now has to be some kind of sick joke. He's reminding me that I'll never be free of him. That he can still reach me."
Tav sighed. "Tadpoles, mindflayers, goblins, and now vampires. We've got quite a bit to contend with."
"Then why didn't you just turn me over to him then, and save yourself the trouble?" Astarion snapped. She looked taken aback.
"No, Astarion, that's not what I meant. Why would I turn you over to him?"
He scoffed dramatically. "To finally rid yourself for good of all of my complaining that's so annoying to you? I don't know, why wouldn't you? He's a monster hunter, and I'm a monster."
"Because you're my friend!" She threw up her hands.
Her stared at her. "I'm your what?"
She stared back. "My friend. Aren't you?"
"Am I?" She looked hurt. "I - well, I hadn't really... yes, I suppose," he amended, and she offered a small smile. Cautiously, she took a step toward him. He looked around at her and tried to resist the urge to step back, wary of what she might be about to do. To his great shock, she slowly lifted her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him against her. She was giving him a hug.
"You're not a monster. A spectacular bastard, maybe, but not a monster," she murmured in his ear. He could feel her breath tickling his neck, making his hair stand on end.
Astarion didn't know what to do. He couldn't remember ever receiving a hug before. Carefully, he brought his hands up and pressed them so gently across her back that he was scarcely touching her. He felt her body shake as she chuckled and pulled away.
"We'll work on it. Goodnight, Astarion."
The second she turned away from him, Astarion made a beeline for the trees. He hadn't needed to breathe in 200 years, but suddenly there wasn't enough air. The camp was too crowded, although he was more than ten feet away from where anyone else was sitting. As soon as he hit the tree line he broke into a run, pumping his legs as fast as he possibly could. His brain felt like it was short-circuiting, synapses long dead suddenly lit up and firing at random.
He was overloaded with sensation: the warmth of her body, the curve of her against him, the low hum of her voice in his ear, the chill of her breath on his skin, the scent of her - her perfume, her blood, overpowering him, incapacitating him. The memory burned through his mind white hot, scorching him from the inside out like the sun would have prior to the tadpole.
The tadpole. Finally, he slowed his pace, dropping to his knees. He had reached the lakeshore, and he placed his hands palm down in the sand, trying to ground himself. The tadpole must be the reason the sensation was so powerful - it was amplifying the memory, playing out all the sensations in overdrive that shock had blocked out initially.
He squeezed the sand in his hands and took deep breaths, even though he didn't need to. The sensation was calming anyway. This intense reaction to receiving a fucking hug was scaring the hells out of him. He settled back into a crossed-leg position and stared out over the lapping lake water and didn't move again until the sun rose the next morning.
It wasn't the hug, he realized, that scared him. The hug had been... well, incredible. The first soft and gentle thing he could even remember in his life. No, the thing that scared him was being seen. Being seen by her. She saw him so clearly that he didn't even know why he bothered trying to keep the mask on. The only time he'd ever had the upper-hand over her was the moment they first met - ever since then, she'd read him as easily as if he'd opened his tadpole to her and let her see him laid bare. He had been wrong to assume that she was trying to manipulate him, but she'd done it all the same. Every mean-spirited joke, comment, or action had been a roadmap to his pain, and she had landed a critical hit to the heart.
"Because you're my friend."
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He tried to return to camp with as much subtlety as he could muster, wanting to avoid any questions about his absence the night before. There was no reason to continue to pretend to join the group for breakfast, so he set to packing up his tent, pointedly keeping his back to a certain friend of his. He was so anxious, however, that the task took little time at all, and he was left wringing his hands while the others took their time tearing down.
He risked a glance at Tav, and almost immediately regretted it when his stomach did some kind of sick fluttering that he had never experienced in his living dead memory. She was brushing the sleep tangles out of her hair and pulling it up for the day while laughing with Karlach about something. The sunlight caught her jewelry, making it twinkle, and he skin was flushed from her mirth. Had she always been so pretty? Certainly she'd taken some beauty potion in the night. Or perhaps he'd never really looked at her properly before.
Her body was supple, smooth and curvaceous. As a sorcerer, she didn't need to have the rippling muscles of Karlach or Lae'zel, but she was no weak, wilting flower either. He had seen the solid way she handled herself when she trained with Lae'zel. Most impressively, she walked with ease and confidence, even in the face of men twice her size. Astarion wondered how many creeps had regretted messing with her in the streets of Baldur's Gate after she fixed them with one of her most murderous stares, conjuring pure static shock between her fingers. As she swept the hair off her neck, he noticed the puncture wounds from his biting her, and the sight made him swell with pride. Mine.
The word sprang to his mind as intensely as if someone had shouted it in his ear. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to clear it. What the fuck was wrong with him? Didn't he hate Tav?
She caught his eye and smiled at him, and his stomach did a somersault. It seemed, despite his best efforts, he most certainly did not.
Part 3
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rapha-reads · 2 months
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IWTV rewatch
Season 1 episode 6 [Like Angels Put In Hell By God] - part 2/2
- [Louis] "It was an awkward time, but I loved Claudia with all my heart, and I loved Lestat with a wounded one." - better a broken heart than no heart at all, as my Doctor would say.
- Hey, looook, estranged Father and estranged Daughter finally agreeing on something! All for the sake of Daddy, yeah, but still.
- Okay, but if Antoinette is dead, that means no Antoine during Prince Lestat… Unless Lestat is lying again. Which would make things Awkward if they do adapt Prince Lestat and follow that plotline.
- Love Louis playing mediator between his husband and his daughter. Honestly seeing myself trying to mediate between my violently divorced parents and my siblings who have each chosen their side. Fun times all around.
- Love that they sleep in the same coffin, though. Healing!!
- Aaaaw, a Nicki mention! Love Claudia's proxy jealousy, all for the game and the hatred.
[Lestat] "Nicki passed on after he and I parted ways. Took me a century to try again." - you know what, I am now firmly in support of the timeline change. Love the fact that it took a century for Lestat to love again, instead of a decade like in the book. That's my kind of star-crossed doomed romance jam.
- Ah, yep, there it is, not very dead Antoinette. Good job, Lestat. That's definitely not going to come back and bite you in the neck. "There's no place for me other than New Orleans." - 'Stat, chéri, explain to me how you think this is all going to work out in your mind.
- [Louis] "What difference would it make?" - resignation is not a good look on you, Lou baby.
- [Louis] "The numbness remained, hardened somehow into a dissociative shell, a vessel of acceptance, tortured rationalisation." - and here comes the depression with the steel chair…
- Claudia my queen, you deserve so much better.
- [Louis] "Hey sis! You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away." - excuse me while I sob my heart out. Yes I know how it goes, but please give me that one moment of hope and love before turning it back to hatred and despair.
- [Louis] "But it was 1939, and the only Negro allowed in first class was the porter, and the Negro passenger rode the rear. The Negro vampire made do with what was left, which was fine with her." - oh, hello social commentary. We haven't had much of that in the past couple of episodes. Which is a shame, the 30s are such a rich and ripe decade… But I guess vampire emotional drama takes precedence over sociology.
- [Louis] "'This is the part of my story, back in San Francisco, where you said, and I paraphrase, 'Give it to me. Make me a vampire now'.' [Daniel] 'In the eyes of a 20-year-old, you were wasting the gift.' [Louis] 'You're in your 20s, Rashid. What do you think?'"
More like 520s, but potatoes, tomatoes, I guess. Their little roleplay continues to entertain me when things become too heavy.
Also I just love the serenity of this scene. The sun shining through one window, the others veiled, and the muezzin's call in the background, that's the afternoon prayer, I think, given the slant of the sun rays , the last one before night. It's a such a perfect moment. And Daniel's feeling his meds kicking up, he's starting to go under, but still bitchy and sassy.
- [Daniel] "'And divorce. And die. Save it for the rent boy.' [Rashid/Armand] 'May I be excused, Mr du Lac?'" - I wonder what made Armand react like that; to be called a rent boy, or to be reminded of Daniel's fragility and the fact that he keeps rejecting the gift, maybe in an echo of their affair in the 70s and 80s? I will die on this hill, Devil's Minion did take place between the San Fran and the Dubai interviews, and Armand ran away because he got scared of losing Daniel and both didn't want to go through the giving of the gift. But anyway, look at his face there, he's gutted. In that very subtle Armand way.
- [Louis] "If I was to join Dante's wood of the Self-Murdered, it would be another night." - it's killing me that I have to say this, but Lou sweetie, maybe put down the books for a moment and seek some help. (Me at myself: oh, like you're doing, maybe? Shush, we're talking about Louis, not me)
- [Lestat] "Germany's invaded Poland"- and history inviting herself back in the narrative through the big door.
[Louis] "'Since when do you care about humanity?' [Lestat] 'Well, I don't. But to think our sister, impulsive tot that she is, was on her way to holiday in Europe. I'm so glad she decided the better of it.'"
Sometimes this show reminds you with a big slap to the face that one of its main genre is indeed horror, including psychological horror. Ooof, that shrill music as the camera pans to the rest of the living room and Claudia sitting there panicked and then Louis's terrified face… Chilling. Oh, and Lestat making his way in the train, some more horror for us. Fantastic. I love it so much. And the music here…
- You know what is one of the worst part? Lestat is not wrong. Claudia leaving would lead to Louis walking into the sun, and Lestat absolutely cannot have that.
- And here begins the murder planning… And hello, social commentary. The fact that Claudia's argument is that she and Louis are Lestat's "slaves", given their race and history… Oh, this is going deep. Very, very deep. Claudia's playing three dimensional chess while Lestat is still parading around.
- The way she corners him in that chess game. While she's having an absolutely mind blowing mental conversation with Louis… Brilliant. Chilling. Claudia my queen you deserve everything good in the universe and your parents don't deserve you at all. And Lestat losing his mind as she refuses to finish the game, because now he's finally understanding that he's about to lose it all…
- [Louis] "We were going to kill Lestat. We were going to kill Lestat." - love how Louis repeats that, as if it's the first time he's saying it out loud for what it is.
- Oooh, hello and welcome to the 70s! Just the music choice has me vibrating out of my skin.
Louis's hairdo in '73 is glorious. And also his game at picking up boys.
[Louis] "I have an accent?", says the King of languages and accents.
[Louis] "I have what you're looking for. High quality. Befitting a man of my tastes." - the fact that he could equally be talking about drugs, sex or a story… Lou babe, you've become dangerous.
[Daniel] "'Are you a narc?' [Louis] 'I'm a vampire.' [Daniel] 'I want to interview you.'"
And thus came into being the grand vampire revolution. At least in the books. Pretty sure if Louis had known what he was setting in motion with his picking up a reporter boy in a gay bar in San Fran, he'd have run all the way over to South America instead of going to that room in Divisadero.
- Man, Danny took one look at that gorgeous black guy saying he's a vampire and said "I wanna tap that in every way possible".
Oh hello there Rashid. Lmao. Love the fact that Armand still wears his brown contacts in Daniel's dream memory, because memory is a monster and Daniel doesn't even know what he's remembering.
- Sam Reid's voice is exquisite, I cannot wait to see what Daniel Hart is going to do with Rockstar Lestat…
episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | part 1 | episode 7
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osleeplessflowero · 8 months
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// haven't written red in a hot minute, might as well experiment! 📖 Fairytale AU series! ft. an Assassin Red? 👀 ❤️ Reader is Gender Neutral as always, SOUL is up to you! 🗡️First Oneshot (You're here!) Second Oneshot (Coming Soon)
You run. You run as far as you possibly can, your cloak flowing out behind you as you run through the woods, grabbing onto trees and launching yourself forwards to get a head start.
A dagger, or rather a sharpened bone, flies by your face just barely missing it and landing in a tree in front of you. You turn left, clutching your bag of spell ingredients to your side.
Being chased by someone who's out for your head in return for some gold was not on your schedule for today!
"you may as well stop runnin'," The assassin shouts from behind you, keeping up at a rapid pace. "it's pointless!"
You dodge another sharpened bone, looking back at the skeleton behind you with a glare. "And let you just fucking kill me? YOU WISH-"
"i can see why they found it so hard to kill ya before, you've got plenty of stamina-" He throws a few more bones, you jumping over them to the best of your ability.
"Who hired you?" You stand behind a tree, backing up when a bone goes through it and running again. No time to catch your breath when your life's on the line..
"confidential." "Of course." You roll your eyes, opening your spellbook and looking for something to possibly help your situation. A transport spell? Protection spell? Anything??
You see your hideout up ahead, contemplating locking yourself in there, but you really don't want an assassin to know where you live, so you take a right.
The light of the sun shines through the trees harshly, a spotlight on the chase. Woodland creatures peek their heads out from behind the trees to watch. Fairies fly about, sitting in flowers and whispering to each other to give commentary.
The skeleton was starting to get tired now, but he couldn't stop running. He really didn't want another lecture from his brother about "Slacking Off". He adjusts his dark red cloak, the fur on it soft against his skull.
You're good at dodging, he'll give you that. You've managed to avoid every single bone he's thrown your way with relative ease. Most people would've been down by the second one. He can respect your skills, even if you're the person who he needs to kill for this bounty.
Thoughts race through your mind. Your potential killer is running right behind you, and you're running out of places to, well, run to. Who could've possibly wanted you killed? You've left your past life behind, they don't have to worry about you showing your face again. So who could possibly want you dead?
As you become further and further lost in thought, you feel the side of a bone (the non-sharpened side, that is) hit the side of your torso, knocking you down onto the cold ground. You back up quickly, holding your side with one of your hands as the skeleton slowly walks towards you, bone in hand. His sharp teeth are on display as he grins down at you, a single gold tooth glistening in the light. You try to get up, but he holds you down with one of his boots, leaning his arm on his knee as you wince.
"well, look at that..seems i caught ya."
"Let me go!" You struggle, trying to push him off of you.
"can't, sorry 'bout that." He watches you continue to struggle despite this, raising a browbone. "now, what's someone like you doin' to get a price this big on their head? gotta be somethin' pretty damn bad."
"I don't know why someone wants me dead, I haven't spoken to anyone in a year. I'm just trying to live my life out here, not be bothered by people I knew in the past."
"huh.. so you have no idea why?"
"No! I don't want anything to do with them, that's for sure. I didn't ask for this, I haven't done anything."
"hm. well, that's a pity-" He raises a bone above you.
"WAIT!" You hold out your hands, halting his kill. He lets out an annoyed huff, staring down at you.
"what? what is it now?"
"You don't have to kill me, I can give you double what they gave."
"yeah right, they offered me a fortune to bring your soul back to 'em in a pretty little box." "I have a shop, I make a ton of profits. I can give you some in exchange for you not killing me. Wouldn't you rather get your gold from someone who isn't corrupt?"
He averts his single visible eyelight to the side. He's thinking about it.. Please let this work. You're running out of options here.
"you mean to tell me you can give me more than royalty?" "Yes. ..Just let me live, and I can show you."
He hums in acknowledgement. In truth, you didn't really..seem like someone that should have a price on your head. Something about the aura around you. You never fought back when he first encountered you, instead choosing to run immediately.
If he could get more gold from you than from some entitled tyrant, he'd choose the former option any day.
"alright, i'll bite. i'm goin' with ya to get it, though. no funny business, or it won't just be your heart i'm takin' back." He points the sharpened edge of the bone above you against your raised chin to emphasize his point.
"Okay. Get off me first, then." You deadpan, before he lowers his weapon, stepping off you. You get up and dust yourself off with a huff. Might as well go find the shop..good thing you don't live in there.
It's a mostly quiet walk there, with the exception of the sounds of nature around you. You perk up since the silence is starting to unsettle you.
"Y'know, I can actually give you an alternative soul if you need one for "proof" that you killed me. So you can still get paid without any questions." "..you have a human soul?" He narrows his eyesockets at you. "I have my business, you have yours. You want it or not?" You look back at him. "if you actually have what you promised, i'll accept it." He shrugs. You let out a sigh as you finally reach your potions and medicine shop, unlocking the door.
The skeleton glances around at all the different plants inside, both magical and natural. Potions are on various shelves as well as ingredients to make them. He probably should've guessed you're a mage of some kind, seeing as you literally have one of the hats on your head right now.
You go behind the counter, looking through several cabinets for what you need.
"you got any poisoned apples or spindles for princesses to prick their fingers on in here?" He jokes, earning an eye roll from you.
"I'm not allowed to sell those anymore." You reply, continuing to look. That causes him to pause and look in your direction, before letting out a laugh. So you've got jokes too, huh?
"funny." "I try." You pull quite a few hefty bags of gold out of your cabinet, sitting them on the desk and taking out some gems you found while exploring some crystal caves. "This enough?"
"holy shit, you weren't kiddin'." "Duh. My life was on the line." "well, fair 'nuff. deal's a deal." He takes what you gave him, hiding it all in his cloak with magic.
You slide over a container, motioning for him to give you the box in one of his hands. He sits it down, and you transfer the pieces of a deceased person's soul into it. Thankfully it's the same color as your own, so it's more convincing.
"heheh. pleasure doin' business, human."
You correct him, telling him your name.
"huh.. guess we aren't strangers now. name's red. nice to meet'cha." "You too, I suppose..skeleton that almost tried to murder me and cut out my soul." "gotta work somehow." He slides over a stool, sitting at the counter. You rest your arms on said counter, curious.
"you mind if i stick around? 'm not ready to go back there yet." "Uh..go ahead, if you want. I'll just organize some stuff."
And you do just that, the skeleton sitting and observing. Once he gets to talking, the two of you go through various topics of interest, both shared and opposing. When he's not trying to kill you, he's a bit of a charmer in truth. You can see yourself getting along with him.
"And so that's.." You pause mid sentence, seeing the skeleton has fallen asleep. With an amused smile and a huff, you pull out your wand and conjure up a blanket, letting it fall over him and deciding to let him rest.
You walk over to one of the window seats, lying down yourself and letting your hat rest over your face.
Morning arrives. Red sits up, confused, before remembering what happened previously. He feels the blanket over his shoulders and smiles a little bit, looking over at your sleeping form.
"not bad. not bad at all." Is all he says before walking out. Yeah..he'll be back later.
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liaromancewriter · 10 months
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Control What You Can Control
Premise: Ethan has second thoughts about a new phase in his life.
Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 1,100
A/N: Late submission for @choicesflashfics week 58, prompt 2. I'm also using week 59, prompt 3.
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The summer sun was high in the sky, its sharp rays shining through the treated glass ceiling. Where the city streets battled sweltering temperatures, the hospital atrium was a cool and bright hub of activity. Patients, visitors, nurses and doctors glided around each other like actors on a stage.
From his vantage point on the seventh-floor gallery, Ethan Ramsey watched the familiar scene unfold below. There was a time when he’d stand at the windows of his old office and gaze down at the emergency drop-off area. Sometimes, it was the only time he had to himself in the day to just think.
There was a simplicity to his life he missed now that he was chief of medicine. He missed working with patients most of all, solving the puzzle of what brought them to the hospital, that moment when a diagnosis just clicked.
Now, it was all over, he sighed morosely, tightly gripping the edge of the steel handrail. And he wished he could go back and do it all over again.
“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Chief. Having second thoughts about the wedding?”
Ethan rolled his eyes at the glib comment from Tobias Carrick, his former nemesis slash colleague slash occasional friend slash permanent pain in the ass.
“No, just contemplating how much lighter life would be without your unsolicited commentary,” Ethan shot back sarcastically.
He scowled at the other man over his shoulder. “It's like mental weightlifting, really, and more intense than any wedding jitters.”
“Who’s having wedding jitters?” Cassie Valentine asked absently, eyes on her phone as she joined them.
“Your fiancé,” Tobias smirked. “His sigh was ponderous enough to sink the Titanic. Might want to check if you can get your deposits back.”
Cassie’s gaze zigzagged between them before her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Tobias, are you riling Ethan up for no reason?”
“How could you ask me that?” Tobias feigned offense.
Ethan grinned when Cassie stared Tobias down, using her haughtiest and most severe expression. It was one he’d seen her use only when someone or something truly vexed her and reminded him of why people called the Valentines American royalty.
For once, Ethan was glad not to be on the receiving end of it.
Tobias held his palms up in a universal gesture for peace, but Ethan could see him sweating bullets. Served him right, he thought. Ethan grinned wickedly as the other man made some excuse and rushed off.
“Are you having second thoughts about the wedding?”
Ethan silently groaned at Cassie’s question. He looked away from his perusal of Carrick’s retreating back to find her watching him. She was more curious than concerned, and he figured that was a good sign.
“Not about the wedding, no,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I was just reflecting on this past year, everything that’s happened.”
Cassie peered into his eyes, and he knew she could read him like an open book. “You’re having second thoughts about your job.”
“Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m enjoying the challenge, finally having the power to change things from within. And god knows the residency program needs an upgrade. But…”
“You miss seeing patients, doing research,” she finished astutely.
“Yes,” Ethan admitted, leaning against the railing. “Oh, what the hell.” He crossed his arms defiantly. “I sometimes, very rarely, mind you,” he warned, “miss teaching interns too.”
Cassie burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling as she threw her head back in an uninhibited display of amusement. Her laugh was loud and contagious, making everyone’s head turn in curiosity.
“You miss interns,” Cassie gasped out the words, still chuckling. “That’s like the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”
Her shoulders shook, and tears leaked from the corner of her eyes.
“It’s not that funny,” Ethan grumbled, somewhat annoyed by her reaction.
He shook his head and turned to walk away, but Cassie held up a hand to stop him.
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, lips upturned in a smile. “I shouldn’t have laughed. But, I’m trying to reconcile the man I met in intern year with the one standing before me.”
“That was then. This is now. People change,” Ethan muttered.
When Cassie threw him a disbelieving look, he unfolded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I don’t actually miss interns.”
“Thank god.” Cassie leaned into him. “You had me going there for a second.” She slipped one arm around his back. “Seriously, though. My grandfather always taught us if we don’t like how something is, change it.”
“This is the same grandfather that threatened to cut you off when you applied to med school instead of joining the family business?” Ethan asked skeptically.
“Yes, but,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “he’s right more often than he’s wrong. My point is, Ethan, it’s up to you to find a way to make the job your own.”
“What does that even mean?” he said, confused. The job was the job. He knew that going in.
“Take shifts in the community clinic, take over the care of your former patients, undertake a research study.” Cassie listed things off on her fingers. “You can be the chief of medicine and a doctor. Balance your workload by hiring a medical director to do the things you don’t enjoy or won’t have time for.”
Cassie pressed on when he remained silent. “Naveen chose you because you’re what Edenbrook needs, not because you’ll do the job like anyone else would.”
Ethan turned over her words in his head, thinking through the ramifications of changing things. It could be done, of course. There was at least one hospital that he knew of that did what Cassie was proposing. Maybe there were more?
“I need to think about this,” he said eventually. “That’s good advice, though.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” Cassie laughed. “I’m the head of Edenbrook’s famed diagnostics team, after all, and pretty remarkable at diagnosing what’s wrong.”
“And so modest, too,” Ethan quipped, placing a swift kiss across her lips. “Thank you.”
“Someone brilliant once told me, ‘Control what you can control.’ Well, this is something you can control,” Cassie added when he smiled at hearing the familiar words.
He folded her in his embrace. “Brilliant, you said?”
“Handsome, too,” Cassie smirked. “Alas, his tongue can be acerbic, and he refuses to do dance challenges with me on TikTok.” She snickered. “But, I love him anyway.”
He lowered his head, lips hovering above hers, tantalizingly close. “Then it’s a good thing he loves you too.”
And then he kissed her.
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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction
Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer
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flamechasers highschool au pt.1!
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highschool au headcanons, reader is a transfer student! g/n reader x flamechasers 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐚, 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐇𝐮𝐚, 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 & 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬
one / two / three
Author's note: This was sort of rushed and it's just a fun little idea I had in mind at the time <3
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• Elysia would definitely be the first to greet you everyday! On your first day at the school, she'd hold your hand and give you a whole interactive school tour with commentary from your one and only miss pink elf! I feel like she'd be part of the photography club, Elysia strikes me as a "capture the moment" kind of person so she'd always be snapping photos with you. Dates with Elysia would almost always be a cute picnic with food cooked up by your favourite pink-haired cutie, Elysia! Somehow whenever she takes you out on a date, the sun always happens to be shining just right.
• Eden is the type to take it free and easy, she'd help you with your homework and with studying but other times, she'd just watch you from the sidelines instead of taking part in whatever you'd be up to. Eden would most definitely be in the school choir, and she'd be the best too! I can see her being the president. She'd walk you to and from school, and dates would be to fancy restaurants and oftentimes, shopping. Don't worry about her wallet, Eden is really... rich. Sometimes, she'd prefer to go to the beach and relax instead!
• Hua would be more reserved at first, she'd only approach you for strictly education reasons (I made her a class monitor again for this au!). She'd open up to you after a while and gradually spend more time with you through after-school study dates. I think she'd be in the karate club or something similar. Once, you've really gotten to know her and the two of you start dating, Hua would take you on walks to parks. The air is refreshing and the wind is just right, you'd sit quietly on a bench as Hua hands you a cup of ice cold tea, joining you in your shared daydreaming.
• Aponia would be hard to get to know in the first place, considering she's part of the student council. You got to know her over the holidays while hanging out with the flamechasers. She'd be like Eden and walk you to and from school everyday. Once you know her well enough, she'd check up on you to make sure you're feeling well and would check your work often to make sure you've been doing it on time. Aponia's gifts would consist of small plushies or keychains and dates with her usually mean hanging out at your house (which would more than once end up with her just cleaning up your room until it's spotless).
• Pardofelis... well let's just say when you lose something, you're more likely to find it in her hands for just a tiny price rather than where you left it, finders-keepers. She's sort of the mischievous one of the group, definitely can't expect her to help you with homework. Pardofelis would gift you things that she "happens to find" and they'll always manage to fit your style. She'd love a cute date to a cat cafe or just chilling at home. She also does have her pet cat, Can, so you'd have to be a cat person to be with her.
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saltygilmores · 9 months
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THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP5/8 O Clock At The Oasis
Ah, I'm only two episodes away from the Dance Marathon. I am PUMPED! I hope Shane is living out her bucket list (or should I say Fucket List) because the clock is ticking for her. Original Air Date: October 22nd, 2002. The episode opens with a pretty unfunny comedic exchange between Lorelai and Rory as they head to Luke's. They arrive to find the diner unusually crowded.
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An Iconic line. Welcome back, Tomatos Sign. Sun Shine. Coffee's Fine. (A Gilmore Girls Haiku)
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Maybe Lorelai should have thrown some condoms at these people too. Condoms for The Hollow is my new initiave. Luke is complaining that the parent group comes in every weekend and takes up space for hours and make a mess out of his business only to order two iced teas; he is telling this to Lorelai and Rory, who take up space for hours, eat him out of house and home and never pay for their food.
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Says Luke Danes about a woman breastfeeding meanwhile he doesn't try to stop this:
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Another banger of a one liner.
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Later, Emily calls Lorelai at work and invites her to a furniture auction. The conversation is suspiciously pleasant and Lorelai hardly even puts up a fight. She later attends the auction with Michel and has a nice time and meets Jon Hamm. But Emily Gilmore always has some kind of motive. Stay vigilant, Lorelai. Michel overhears the conversation and begs Lorelai to take him with her and she agrees. For a price.
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I looked up a phone number for you, Michel.
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Next scene, Lorelai meets a quirky, vertically challenged, talkative new neighbor who asks Lorelai to water his lawn while he's away and although her agreeance is once again reluctant, there is very little quibbling. Who is this doormat who is saying yes to everything without a fight (so basically, Rory), and what have you done with our Lorelai?
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No, I will not. I will continue to post Crap Commentaries to Tumblr. Com until Tumblr finally, mercifully ends up in the dustbin of internet history. Or until I finish Season 3 (maybe 4). Whichever comes first. My 73 year old mom loves loves loves loves loves LOVES Jon Hamm. She definitely loves Jon Hamm more than I love Milo. So of course I've shared this episode with her a few times.
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My mom gives Jon Hamm the same googly eyes whenever he's on TV. Here's some Random-Hamm Shots I sent to my mom this morning.
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Jon Hamm is a babe. Let's all give it up for my mom. She has good taste. The urge to call him "Baby Jon Hamm" when he was actually 31 years old here is strong. I mean, I still call 30 year old Milo Baby Milo. He didn't shed Baby until at he was at least 35. It's a badge of honor. These fine men age like wine. Lorelai doesn't get BabyHamm's name at the auction, so now she's on a quest to figure it out, which unfortunately for her means she'll have to put the squeeze on Emily to try and get it. Whoops. My bad. She actually asks Rory to do it for her (then gets mildly irritated when Rory actually does it). Just a quick run down of all the manipulative micro transactions going on in just the first 17 minutes of this episode: Luke ---> Lorelai: Tell that woman to stop breastfeeding in my diner Lorelai ---- > Michel: You can come to the auction if you work every weekend Lorelai ----> Rory: You have to ask Grandma to get me BabyHamm's number Dwight (new neighbor) ----> Lorelai: I know you just met me but I need you to water my lawn for the next week Dwight ----> Lorelai: While you're here watering my lawn you can water my indoor plants too Then there's the whole sprinkler business... which we'll get to in time. Lorelai swallows her pride at the next FND and inquires about Paddle #17 and we find out BabyHamm's name is Peyton Sanders. Isn't he a football player? (Peyton Manning. Bad Joke.). Emily agrees to obtain his phone number for Lorelai without anything more than some light teasing . Highly suspicious.
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Dwight's house is pretty rad.
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Okay okay I LOVE this kind of thing. The thing being: listing all of the board games whose names I can make out. Les go. We'll finish out the post here. Some of the games, I'd assume for copyright reasons have their names cropped short or changed. Hungry Hungry Hippos became Hungry Hungry Nippos.
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Candyland (two copies). Chess (three copies). Chinese Checkers. Hungry Hungry Nippos. Yahtzee (two copies). Ouija Board. Scattegories. Sorry. Chutes and Ladders. Easy Money. Clue. Hangman. Pyramid (two copies). Risk. Aggravation. Horse Around. Mastermind. Scrabble. Go For It. Times to Remember. Charades for Dummies. Monopoly. And FIVE copies of Operation.
I’m such a slut for small details, ya’ll 🤤
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hihi! same anon as last time, wanted to leave my thoughts on the latest chapter ^^
something I notice, this taking place earlier on in the timeline than the other pieces in the series (of which I've reread a fair few times! hope that isn't an offputting thing to admit, I just really like your approach to these characters :D), is how lonesome and subdued he is at this time. I particularly really like that second paragraph listing off everyone's wishes for him that we've seen up to this point (and noting his parents' hpes too really sits with me- gosh, how worried they'd be for him over the past few years...) and I like as clumsily they go about it how determined his college friends are to cheer him up in some regard. even if they don't know the extent of hero's struggles, they invite him along and want him to have a good time too. it's for their benefit too but it's still sweet to see
my heart hurts for him in that stretch of them trying to sell him on playing the romance game, what a subject to navigate... I'm curious what CJ and Kyle took away from his mood slipping alongside his admittance of having been kissed, if anything. guess it'll be a wait and see :o
and even though as you've noted this is largely set-up to the party itself, I really like the hopeful note you close out on here. the smallest choices, little moments of courage, really add up. you just have to see where they take you, sometimes.
great work with this!! I eagerly await more however and whenever it works out, and I send my well wishes to the two of you- hope you both have a lovely day!! - 🩶
Oh my goodness! 🥺 Thank you so much 🩶Anon-Friend! Your ask was so sweet and means so much to us, especially after the struggle it has been to get this set of chapters ready for posting. It made our days to get to read your thoughts on the latest chapter! Thank you so much for taking the time to share with us!! 💖
Before we address your lovely specific points on the newest chapter, we wanted to reassure you that there is not and is never anything off-putting in reaching out to us and in telling us you have reread our little stories. It is so incredibly flattering to hear that not only did you give our fics a chance and enjoy them but also that you loved them enough to reread them. It's so encouraging and honestly has us tearing up a little! 🥺💙Seriously, it's the greatest compliment to hear that you were so impacted by something we created that you wanted to read it more than once. Do you have a favorite story in the series so far? (No pressure to answer, of course. We were just a little curious).
Thank you also for saying that you love the way we write the characters! We both love OMORI and all of its amazing, dynamic characters so much (Hero especially) so it is always our goal to do them justice whenever we write about them. To hear other people enjoy our interpretations and it's not only us who see these characters in this way is always so encouraging. Thank you so much for that!
Thank you again for supporting our “When Sun Shines Again” project and for reading our latest chapter! We apologize it was short and that not a lot happened (that's why we didn't have our word of thanks to you in the author's note. We were always planning to put it in the next one where things actually happen & apologize for the delay 🙈). After several months of writing and rewriting, editing and reediting, however, we decided to post some of it (if only so Acacia would stop editing and finally move on). It means so much to hear that you enjoyed it! We've addressed your specific points under the cut (because this post got really, really long), but thank you so much again for such an incredibly kind ask! We appreciate you and your support so much. Please take care of yourself and we wish you a fantastic day as well! 💙
Honestly squealing a little that one of your big takeaways from this chapter was how lonely Hero is at this point in his life. We tried so hard to make that a major theme in the work thus far, so it means a lot to hear that that stuck out to you especially in comparison to stories that take place farther in the future. One of the biggest inspirations for this story has always been this line from One Day Left:
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Hero really is so lonely, and it goes beyond just the loss of the best friend he had in Mari. He can't open up to others in the same way that he used to. He feels he has to protect Aubrey, Basil, Sunny, and Kel who are dealing with their own grief. He is terrified of worrying his family, and he struggles to tell any new friends he makes about his painful past. He doesn't show anyone the whole picture anymore--doesn't show those broken parts of himself. For any relationship to truly develop, there has to be a level of vulnerability, a moment where you allow someone else to truly see the real you. Hero doesn't want is anyone to see him anymore. By never letting anyone in, he thinks he is preventing himself from ever hurting or burdening others, but what he is really doing is preventing himself from ever being truly loved.
What was more important to both of us in writing this series wasn't that Hero opens himself up to romantic love again but that he opens himself up any love: to the love of his family and friends. We want him to allow people to know him, to see him, and to love him again, so he doesn't have to be alone anymore. We want him to heal his relationships with his old friends and his family, but also to open himself up to new friends too which is how the cast of this story became so much bigger than just one OC love interest. Yes, it's the name of the blog but we truly believe that Hero deserves to be happy and it's our hope that that he can find that happiness in building meaningful relationships with people who truly care about him (even in a purely platonic sense).
Hero's family & friends know and wish this too (in our opinion) which is why they are worried and why they want so desperately for him to make friends at school. It means so much to hear you specifically mention that second paragraph of this chapter where Hero thinks of his loved ones' wishes for him. [A/N: Sprinkles wants to specifically thank you for mentioning Hero's parents and how deeply worried they are about him as that's something that (we both feel) often gets overlooked or misinterpreted so it means a lot to hear that that really struck you! Always excited to find fellow "Kel & Hero's Parents are flawed (as all human beings are) but they genuinely love and care about their kids and are trying their best" Truthers out there!] All those wishes were all intentionally included in the previous chapters to build up to this section of the story and everything that comes after because Hero building these friendships, finding this sense of community, and opening himself up again is one of the most important themes of this story.
And in that way, you're absolutely right about Hero being much lonelier at this point in the timeline than in the other stories in this series. From the beginning we've had this detailed outline/timeline of the "When Sun Shines Again" universe and when we [A/N: mostly Acacia who has a bad habit of wanting to write out of order] work on spin-off stories, we tend to have a specific point on the timeline in mind to set that story in. It's so encouraging to hear that there is such a noticeable difference in how lonely Hero is in this early part of the timeline than in the later ones when he has cultivated these friendships and allowed himself to be vulnerable with them. That vulnerability is really the key. For instance, you mentioned Kyle and C.J. and their reactions to Hero's unexpected shift in mood, and the real issue for Hero there is that he can't explain because he isn't ready to open up about Mari yet. Eventually when/if he is ready to tell his friends about her, those kinds of misunderstandings will become less of a problem.
We loved what you said about his friends being determined to cheer him up a little bit. That's exactly what we were going for! And it means so much to us that you've mentioned Kyle and C.J. specifically here as if they are real characters. We worked hard on them so it really means a lot! Eventually they will learn at least some things about Hero's history and Mari (not sure if that's a spoiler or not), but despite them (especially Kyle) being goofs, they really do care about Hero and would be a lot more sensitive if they knew his past. In that way, it's kind of a good thing they don't know because the rest of this story kind of depends on them being a little more pushy (at least to the extent of getting Hero out of the house to this party, but more on that in the next chapter...)
We apologize for that the sadness in that bit about poor Hero remembering Mari and their relationship and kind of swearing off romance forever. We were kind of worried it would come off as a random tangent (even though we know/hope it'll be relevant later), but ultimately, we decided to keep it if just to reiterate the point that Hero is absolutely not ready for that right now and is not going to be ready for a long, long time (which I'm sure you know if you've read the other fics in this series). We actually kind of had to laugh about it the other day because we are now 43,805 words into this story and Hero hasn't even met the girl who will eventually get him to open his heart to love again. As Sprinkles says, "This takes slow burn to the next level."
But we feel strongly that it has to, just by the nature of what it is. Hero loved Mari so much. He wanted to spend his forever with her and genuinely cannot imagine ever wanting that kind of relationship with anyone else at this point. To gloss over that or speed through it really feels like a disservice to him and to how deeply he loved Mari and is still grieving her. Finding healing and opening his heart again is a very long, complex, and often painful process. It can't be rushed, and thanks to Sprinkles who insisted we turn this story idea into the proper epic it deserves, hopefully it won't be here (A/N: it was originally only supposed to be 5 chapters spanning the same length of time but just in less words/scenes, but Sprinkles wisely decided we needed to let the story breathe and take its time!)
Lastly, we are so thrilled to hear that you liked the hopeful ending of this chapter and the reflection on the small seemingly insignificant moments in life that have major impacts. We absolutely agree with your analysis that sometimes we really do have to see where those little moments of courage take us (and we absolutely adore the poetic way that you've worded that too). That's always been such a big takeaway from OMORI for us especially when we think about how (arguably) the most important part of the game (those Real World segments) are sparked by the seemingly insignificant choice to go outside with Kel. If the player chooses to ignore Kel's knocking, they'll end up in Hikikomori and the "True"/Good ending will be impossible to them which in a way (or at least in our opinion) makes it the most important decision in the game. But it's so deceptive precisely because you don't expect the most important decision in a game to be opening the door for your friend. We wanted to bring that kind of sentiment into "When Sun Shines Again" as well and emphasize these little moments that end up having huge impacts on Hero's life and his future.
You've probably guessed by the amount of music references in "When Sun Shines Again" that we have found a lot of inspiration for this series in music, and there is a song called "Something Changed" by Pulp [YouTube Link (A/N: The song title is the Spotify link)] that perfectly sums up this sentiment (A/N: Acacia listens to it a lot while writing). It's this love song from 1995 (so appropriate for the time period here) that's really about "perfect timing" and how it's not these little moments that bring these people together. The song is really the singer reflecting on these seemingly insignificant moments that unexpectedly changed his life and how he wasn't expecting to find love but somehow everything just fell into place and "something changed." Here's a few of our favorite lines:
"Oh, I could have stayed at home and gone to bed I could have gone to see a film instead You might have changed your mind and seen your friends Life could have been very different but then Something changed"
That's probably a good wrap up place before we start rambling about spoilers (not sure if you care too much about those, but we've tried to avoid them just in case 😅). We're hoping to get the next two chapters wrapped up and posted this week. We have no idea if this is even possible but we're going to try. (Acacia is determined to get poor Zoey into this book by her birthday so wish us luck!). The encouragement and feedback we've received from you is such incredible motivation to get these chapters finished and posted though, so thank you so much for that and for all of your support!
We are so delighted that you've enjoyed our stories and are so humbled and flattered that you think so highly of our "When Sun Shines Again" series. Merely saying thank you does not feel like enough, but thank you so, so much for this! Please don't hesitate to stop by our inbox any time to talk with us. We're always happy to discuss this project, our OCs, or anything Hero related (honestly, anything OMORI related within our blog rules really even though this is a Hero-centric blog), so please don't be shy or a stranger. Sending much love to you, 🩶 Anon-Friend!
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bridgertonbabe · 1 year
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Domestic Philloise Drabble
Eloise walked through the front door, chucking her keys onto the side table and purposefully ignoring the sound of them completely missing and falling to the floor instead (after all, that would be an inconvenience for her future self to grumble about). 
“Phil?” she called out.
She carried on through the house until she reached the kitchen, partly expecting to find him making breakfast. However the kitchen was vacant.
“Phil?” she called again, projecting her voice a little louder for him to hear her from upstairs.
She then made her way up the stairs on her mission to track him down to the second place she’d expect to find him at this time of day. Typically Phillip would take the twins to school, seeing as he’d be up at the crack of dawn pottering about in his greenhouse anyway. However due to their recently disrupted sleep patterns, they alternated on who took Oliver and Amanda to school, depending on who was least lacking in sleep. It meant whenever Eloise came back from the school run she’d expect to find her husband in the kitchen or still slumbering in their bed. 
“Phil?” she called out in a softer tone as she poked her head around the door to their bedroom - but instead of finding Phillip gently snoring into the pillow, she found a freshly made bed, with the curtains drawn to allow their room to bask in the summer sun. 
She would have gone to check the remaining uninvestigated rooms of their home but she knew if he was around he would have responded to her calls. Therefore she presumed he must be out for a walk. Most likely to the local shop to pick up some milk or whatever basic necessities they had run out of. 
For a beat she hovered on the spot, wondering what to do with herself, though her eyes fixated on the soft inviting bed, tempting her to hurl herself down on it for a quick snooze. Sure she had chores to catch up on... but that would be a problem for her future self to deal with (on top of the fallen keys in the hallway). 
Eloise sprung onto the bed like a cat and immediately flopped down, sprawling herself across the bedspread. It wouldn’t be a proper nap, not with the sun shining down on her. She wasn’t good at falling into a deep sleep with any form of light source around her. All she was going to do was rest her eyelids and savour the feeling of the sunbeam’s warm embrace...
But then she heard the sound of Phillip’s gentle murmur. One of her eyes pinged open as she scanned the room but he wasn’t there. She heard him again and this time she sat up, realising the softness and unintelligible volume of his voice was due to the fact he wasn’t anywhere nearby. Listening out again she clocked the direction in which he was speaking from - outside in the garden.
Scrambling to her feet she peered out of the bedroom window and finally caught sight of her husband; and the sight she was met with immediately piqued her curiosity. 
Out in the garden Phillip was just within sight as he stood underneath a tree, and next to him was the pram. Eloise leaned on her forearms and almost ended up pressing her face against the window as she watched her husband in fascination.
Phillip was looking down into the pram and then peering up at the tree hanging over them, and Eloise could see that he was providing a running commentary to the pram’s occupant. He then reached up, grabbing a low-hanging branch with his hand, and very gently waved and moved it through the air before his eyes then returned to their infant daughter. 
Within the blink of an eye Eloise had sped out of the bedroom, zoomed down the stairs, and out the backdoor. She only slowed down once she began to approach Phillip, who had yet to even notice his wife was approaching from just how enamoured he was with their baby and shaking the branch for her entertainment. 
Even when she was practically right by his side he failed to notice her right away but the second he did and caught her eye the waving of the branch stopped.
“Hi.” he greeted her.
“Hello.” she smiled back. She then glanced to the branch still clutched in his hand before she posed him with a question. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”
Phillip bashfully fiddled with the twig-like end of the branch, momentarily feeling self-conscious about his actions. Eloise then reached out and plucked a leaf from the branch he was holding, twiddling the stem between her finger tips before playfully booping him on the nose with it. Instantly Phillip relaxed before nodding towards the pram.
“At two months she can start seeing colour.” he explained. “Red and green mainly. I just wondered if she’d be able to see the green of the trees yet.” 
Though Phillip was clearly trying to shrug the whole thing off like it was no big deal, his very sweet and simple explanation made Eloise’s heart swell with so much love and admiration for him that she almost felt short of breath. 
“And?” she managed to utter after a delayed reaction on her part. 
“And?” he echoed uncertainly. 
“Do you think she can see it? The green of the leaves?” Eloise asked eagerly. 
A soft smile pulled on Phillip’s face and he indicated for his wife to peek into the pram and while she did, he then gently began to wave the branch, rustling the leaves above them. When Eloise looked into the pram, her infant daughter was gazing up in awe, her lips parted in fascinated wonder at the movement of nature going on above her, her big bright eyes fixated on nothing else but the greenery. 
“Oh my god.” 
“What?” Phillip responded to his wife’s gasp. 
“She can see it. She can see the green.” Eloise stated, her face lit up with joy. 
“I mean, we can’t know for certain -”
“But as her mother I know she can!” Eloise insisted excitedly. “Do I have any proof? No. Can I read her developing mind? Of course not. But I just know.”
Phillip then craned his neck to look into the pram and saw just how captivated baby Penelope was with the green canopy above her. 
“Can’t you see?” Eloise beamed and grabbed a hold of Phillip’s arm. “She’s seeing the green and the leaves and she’s transcending! Her little mind’s transcending and it’s all because of you, Phil!” 
Phillip’s face turned pink from the unexpected praise his wife was heaping on him. “El, all I’m doing is shaking a branch.” he noted and gave the aforementioned branch a shake for good measure. 
“And? You’re still broadening the horizons of her mind! Her brain’s growing as she’s learning; and that’s all because of you!” 
Before he could laugh off her sentiment, he was caught off guard by Eloise cupping his face and pressing a jubilant kiss to his lips. In spite of feeling that his wife was lavishing him with unnecessary praise, Phillip simply decided to accept Eloise singing his praises as her earnest admiration for him squeezed at his heart and reminded him just how fortunate he was to have her in his life. 
The kiss was then interrupted by a little squeak, which brought both of their attentions to the pram where Penelope lay. She threw her arms about, flailing them as she looked back up at her parents expectantly and squeaked at them. Without hesitation, Phillip sensed what his daughter was after and gently shook the branch again; and within an instant Penelope relaxed, her eyes wide with awe once more as she gazed up at the leaves moving above her. 
With a fond smile on her face, Eloise watched their daughter experience the world unfolding around her as she cuddled into Phillip’s side, forever grateful to have the best father possible for her children. 
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celestialholz · 1 year
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For some reason, I’m seriously wondering if Brassius is /younger/ than he looks, like…Cyrus does NOT look 27, yet there he is. And Brassius was confirmed to have had physically and mentally torturous younger years as an artist struggling for recognition. I’m not saying he’s also 27 mind you, he’s more likely in his late 30’s, /maybe/ early 40’s if we’re being generous.
This…also brings up the potential of an age gap in his and Hassel’s relationship, depending on when they met. Hassel’s likely in his 50’s (somewhere on the low end, maybe), meaning they might have anywhere from a 10 to 15 year age gap in their relationship!
I’m not saying there was any orbiting mind you, they were both fully-grown legal adults when they met, and all my homies hate orbiting—but it’s something to consider, given we don’t have canon ages for every character outside of a very small few.
Ah, my dear anonymous friend, today I must have a chat with you all on coding.
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Cyrus looks like this at 27 because he's wrong. His storyline is finding a way to mend the 'incomplete human spirit', and yet in his design and actions we see his flawed viewpoint. The narrative asks you to consider that if this is what perfection looks like, why is everyone else different? Why does everyone else look their age, or younger, and yet they're somehow incorrect? It's because everyone else isn't wrong. Cyrus' cold heart is draining him of his youth and vitality - he's too serious, and so it shows upon his skin. He's a commentary, a man too driven and too angry at entirely the wrong thing. He will unleash the literal embodiment of Satan to 'save us all', which is dictator language if I've ever heard it. It's why he wears grey, white and black - at his 'core', where the white undershirt is (the colour of purity), he has good intentions, or at least believes he does; his jacket is grey because he's morally ambiguous, lying to his team with again, what he thinks are good intentions - he's saving everyone, isn't he, what's the sacrifice of some good soldiers compared to that? And it's predominantly black, because his heart, and his thoughts, are literally 'dark.' He's a walking red flag on virtually every level, which makes the fact that his name literally means 'sun' particularly funny. He thinks he's bringing light to the world, but all he's bringing is darkness.
Contrast all of that to this lovely fellow here.
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Brassius is physically marked by time because of both illness and depression - he was never 'wrong' in the way Cyrus is, so his lines and frown are a measure of struggling rather than a mental issue. The transformation here is palpable - the man we see jumping from rooftops and being the King of Drama is not necessarily young accordingly, he's alive. He's living his best life later in that life because he never could before - he's been healed, physically and spiritually, by Hassel. The coding here is of a youth unfortunately missed - he was drained of it too, but in an entirely different manner. Hilarious, because as I've pointed out before, Brassius is moon-coded to Hassel's sun coding - he's reflected his light, and now shines in his own right, whereas Cynthia - whose name similarly means 'moon' - is a reflection of Cyrus, the 'good' mirror to his wild ideals.
The difference lies not only in narrative, but in coding. Cyrus is a petulant youth, shouting at the world that won't listen until he makes them; Brassius is a grandpa-esque figure of art and wisdom. He's seen shit, and therefore he's basically every child's adorable little gay uncle. He's not jumping off windmills because he's full of youth, especially when we know from his rematch that it hurts his knees - he's jumping off windmills because he can. Because he's living now, because he's a role model, because he basks in literal sunlight... which is probably why he trains Grass-types, narratively. Needs that photosynthesis. <3
Likewise, speaking of men who are living nowadays...
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Here is a man who has also been through some shit - the burden of responsibility vs. the freedom of being your authentic self, who has also been healed by finding his little free-spirited, unapologetic artist husband. You'll see looking at them together like this, the only thing really distinguishing the two in wrinkles is the lines around Hassel's mouth... which is pretty easy to explain away as continuous frowning, when you've spent a good portion of your life hiding your true softness and trying to be the head of the family your heritage expects you to be.
It's a very different and beautiful take on the Sinnoh dynamic, honestly. Where Cyrus and Cynthia are at odds, both fighting for their own greater good, the sun and the moon here are in harmony - they're equals at every turn. One heals the other, and vice versa; they're both role models for young people; Brassius' art depicts them both to varying degrees; Hassel shows up at gym two; Flapple is half of them each... neither seems inadequate at all. Even the skill gap evens up, because they become very similarly levelled during the gym leader rematches.
And when you've got coding like that...
Is Hassel the older one, here? Oh, almost definitely. We don't know any canon ages in Paldea except Dendra, who explicitly tells us she's 25, and therefore, Tulip must be a very similar age as they grew up together. Everyone else is up for debate, really, aside from the kids obviously being kids. But this has all been a very long way to say, dearest anon, that I don't think this age gap's as wide as you might think. :) I think, in the spirit of equality, Brassius looks older than he is, and Hassel does too, because they've both had lives of turmoil - if I had to stick numbers on it, Brassius is early 40s, and Hassel's late 40s. But as you rightly point out my unknown pal, there's no orbiting here. This is a healthy and wonderful relationship of absolute equilibrium, as my meta masterpost on them will explain more easily than I can summarise here. Both of them are utter sweethearts with good hearts, and everything they are is built on mutual respect and appreciation. But you don't usually achieve mastery of your craft, and especially not after early disadvantages, unless you're of a certain age. These two are endgame life material, the 'happily ever after' of achieving true self-worth as well as true love. They stand as our in-game grandpas for a reason. :)
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kiss-my-freckle · 3 months
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Full Episode Commentary
1x17: Let The Right One In
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Good is bad and bad is good. This episode shows what would've been possible had Stefan not tried to control a situation and been honest rather than secretive. 1x17 is written in combination with 1x15. My re-watch post for that can be found here. This is another anti-Stefan episode, and again, it's of no coincidence that Caroline makes reference to The Bachelor in 3x20.
The episode opens with a storm in Mystic Falls, and it's written in combination with the end of 1x16. "Your girlfriend Bethanne is dead. And you have no one to blame but yourself." Lucky for Elena, Frederick doesn't have access to her house because he hasn't been invited. If he did, it wouldn't be the storm blasting her window open. He would've entered her home the way he entered the Salvatore boarding house. It's because of her vervain jewelry that Frederick couldn't compel Jenna. They're pulling a four-ship... Stelena, Datherine, Alaric/Isobel, and Frederick/Bethanne.
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It's not about patience for Frederick. He's a sadist that wants to kill every last one of the founding families. Through him and Bethanne, they show the hell Damon would've been capable of had they not opened the tomb for him to rescue Katherine. Trust me when I say, as bad as fans think Damon is, he could've been worse according to their choices. Had they not opened the tomb, he'd be more like Frederick.
Damon and Stefan are recovering from the break-in. "I say we go to Pearl's, bust down the door, and annihilate the idiot that attacked us last night." Damon has no problem going after Frederick a different way, he has a problem not going after Frederick at all. Damon knows he won't stop because he knows this is about revenge. Had Stefan listened to Damon, Damon wouldn't have to save Stefan. To put it bluntly, Damon should've went hunting for Stefan while hunting for Frederick because he knew Frederick wasn't done. Stefan just killed his girlfriend, which gave him all the more reason for revenge.
Click for larger view...
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Elena wasn't there when Pearl handled Damon. Had she been, she wouldn't be spitting nonsense in this scene. She'd speak to what she's really pissed about... "How long are you going to blame me for turning your birth mother into a vampire?" Damon knows it's not about the deal he made with Pearl or the tomb vampires. "I've accepted the fact that you're a self-serving psychopath with no redeeming qualities." This is now the second time she's referred to him as a psychopath. Relevant because he and Stefan are the same. Elena is remarkably naive. It would take more than both Salvatores to kill Pearl, so Damon has no choice but do as she demands. Better he get information about Katherine than nothing at all. Elena pushes Damon enough to annoy him. Have the beauty of Elena's comment as it becomes reality...
Stefan: I'm perfectly safe. I have Damon, the self-serving psychopath on my side. Elena: Well, that's comforting.
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Jeremy and Anna further discuss her vampirism. This is why Damon feels the need to kill Caroline in season 2…
Jeremy: Wait. Does your mom know you're a… Anna: The fact that you would even think it's possible to keep something like that a secret from your own family is just further proof that you're not ready.
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Jeremy has no idea that he's wearing vervain. He assumes the bracelet Elena gave to him was simply a gift. He's trying to gift it to Anna, but she tells him he should wear it. Matt talks to Caroline about the argument he had with his mother. He would've benefitted being patient. Had Elena given up on Damon and Stefan as Matt gave up on his mother, both would be dead along with her. A difference between not being ready and never being ready. It's never good to rush any kind of emotional process. Some people take longer than others.
Damon is winding their grandfather clock. He and Stefan are often written with clocks because time is an underlying theme. They're vampires. Apparently, the sun has to be shining bright for them to burn in it. Storms that darken the sky allow for vampires to roam freely. Had Elena answered Damon's phone calls, he and Alaric would've went to Pearl's house without her. She's only involved because Damon needed an answer, so he went to her house. I love Damon's instinct to save Stefan.
"Never let this bad man in." This is how they follow-through with A Few Good Men. "First few weeks, every single nerve in your body screams with fire. The kind of pain that can drive a person mad." This is what Stefan was doing to Damon in 1x5... starving to desiccation. It's also the truth of Damon in season 5. "Despite every nerve in my body wanting to break something or hurt someone…" That's the power of magnified emotions. Damon explains to Elena that he wants to save Stefan, but Frederick compelled the homeowner not to let him in. Elena could go in, but it would be an instant death for her. Every ounce of pain that Stefan suffers is for the sake of feeling what Damon feels. This is the depth of Damon's humanity...
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That's why they're in the basement. It's a representation of the tomb. This is what it's like for Damon to have his emotions so magnified that it causes physical symptoms. Harper interrupts, tries to stop it. "You're gonna want to let go of me! Miss Pearl is no longer in charge." I would've loved to see Frederick try. I have no doubt in my mind that Pearl would've killed him had she came home to find him torturing Stefan.
I laugh at Damon and Alaric in their initial confrontation. Damon knows he could hurt Alaric if he wanted because those rings come off. It's how Alaric and Jeremy respond that drives Damon. He said nothing about wanting Alaric dead, and Alaric got cocky with him. "That's a shame. Because the woman in charge of the crowd can help you find your wife." He hands Alaric a partial lie for the sake of getting into Pearl's house. "And if she's related to Elena, that means she's related to Katherine." While Pearl knows nothing about Isobel, she has access to that information in having access to Katherine. "Katherine and I were best friends long before we came to Mystic Falls, Damon. I know how she thinks, I know her patterns, I know where to find her." He fails to tell Alaric that Pearl would have to get the information from Katherine.
"Look, I wake up every day, and I feel okay. But there's something missing. Like a… like a hole." I'm gonna pull a post on holes one of these days, but this line from Jeremy is the reason finding Vicki's body is necessary. I love Anna's list of reasons they turn people. She turned Ben and Logan to do her dirty work, and admitted this to Damon in 1x13. "I like to use others to do my dirty work." Pearl and Anna meet Tyler and his father, Mayor Lockwood.
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This is your three-car collision preparing to work together to save Stefan. What would've been possible had Stefan not tried to control the situation. Damon makes a soundtrack reference, Up Where We Belong. A track that is better suited for a vampire dating a human, not a human dating a vampire. I also consider it better suited for Damon than for Stefan, for Elena's role in his journey.
"I can't protect you, Elena. I don't know how many vampires there are in there. That's how long it takes you to get your head ripped off. I have to be able to get in and get out. I can't be distracted with your safety. Or this will end up a bloodbath that none of us walk away from... including Stefan. I know. I get it. I understand."
I know fans would like to believe that Alaric's response in this scene is due to him sensing Damon's love for Elena, but no. Damon has yet to fall in love with her. This is about the vampire that killed Isobel, that killed Alaric's wife and Elena's mother. It's about Damon and what Alaric assumed/believed of him. It's because Elena connects Damon to his humanity that Alaric sees the man rather than the monster. Damon's comment is the difference between the tomb and its representation. The vampires aren't desiccating anymore, so he won't risk Elena going in. If not for Alaric's Gilbert ring, he wouldn't be pulling him in either.
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I really wish Caroline hadn't found Vicki's body. At least not this early. lol… Alaric has a trusting face. Frederick lets him in, and he walks through the house as if he's not afraid of being fed on. He immediately notices the bite marks on the homeowner and stakes one of the vampires. Damon kills the homeowner, and is being honest with Ric. Vampires can't override compulsions, and Damon doesn't have time to figure out a loophole.
Damon expected Alaric to get him into the house and leave. He planned to take out all the vampires and rescue Stefan by himself. The lone ranger, as Elena termed him. While I do believe he could've, Stefan wouldn't have survived Frederick. Animal blood weakens Stefan in every aspect… compulsion, hearing, healing, etc. Easier to torture Stefan than Damon. Not only because Damon is on human blood, but because he's an Augustine vampire. Mayor Lockwood informs Pearl that Anna is hanging out with a Gilbert. She fears this because he's a founding family member. Because there's a reason the pocketwatch and the Gilbert ring were passed down to him. He was meant to track and kill vampires, according to his family. When Alaric goes back to the car, he realizes Elena went into the house. "Damn it, Elena!" lol… this is Damon's girlfriend. "Are you insane?" Again, Damon's girlfriend. "That was the moment I realized you were the perfect girl for me because you were just as crazy as I was."
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Only Damon could make Elena this crazy. There's a comfort she has with him that allows her to feel safe enough to be this bold. The same comfort she had when he talked her into baiting Noah.
Caroline decides to walk in the rain, hoping to get a signal so she can call for help. She slips down the hill and reaches for a tree branch. It reveals Vicki's body when she pulls. Pearl confronts Anna about Jeremy. "His family is the reason I was stuck in a tomb for over a century." Pearl has the same issue with the founding families that Damon did. That's why he wanted revenge on current families. Hate breeds hate, and it's the same with the Whitmores. Damon set aside his desire for revenge against the founding families because Katherine wasn't in the tomb. It's the same for the Whitmores. He can't trust that they no longer torture vampires, so Elena has to stop him from killing Aaron. He will kill them so long as they exist. Killing Aaron ended the cycle because Aaron was the last of his family. Pleasing Elena and trusting her are two different things. Damon wouldn't spare anyone to please Elena. Everyone he spares, he spares because he trusts her. That's the kind of power Elena has over Damon just by having his trust. "That doesn't mean he'll make the same choices." Why Damon was gonna spare Aaron. Pearl smacks Anna when she admits Jeremy knows she's a vampire and he likes her. She feels that risk just as she felt it with Damon and Katherine in 1864.
Katherine: No one will ever suspect us. Pearl: Not unless a human tells them. Damon: I'd sooner die.
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The difference between these two is that Damon was in love with Katherine and turning to be with her. Jeremy wants to turn to be with Vicki, not for Anna… and Caroline just found Vicki's body. But after 2x1, you can see why Delena ends up in parallel with Jeremy and Anna, and just as much understand why Jeremy connects with Damon. He's more like Damon than Stefan, even in the fact that he continues loving Vicki dsspite knowing she's a vampire. Love is one of those things in which Stefan has yet to mature. He still refuses to accept that he fell in love with a vampire, and he certainly still refuses to date one. That's why Elena is the first girl he's been romantically involved with since Katherine. Rebekah is different. Had he his humanity on in the 20s, he wouldn't have given her a second look. If not for his hate for vampires, I guarantee Stefan and Lexi would've been a couple.
Damon and Elena make it into Stefan. Again, the basement under the house is a representation of the tomb under the church. This time, it's Damon who's rushing them out. "Guys, come on. We have to get out of here. Come on, we gotta go." Because the vampires are no longer desiccating, Damon has to distract them in order to give Stefan and Elena enough time to leave. But that's really only part of it. He has every intention of killing Frederick because he knows he won't stop. Damon is the brother they want in times of war because he knows the enemy as he knows himself. It's one of their biggest positives with his character. Had it been Damon rather than Stefan in Chicago with Klaus, Katherine would've trusted him because even she knows the difference between them. It requires something specific to fool Damon.
The real battle starts when Frederick realizes it's too quiet. Another instance where the beauty of silence is the noise of no words. Damon is killing Frederick's friends lol. It's Elena's silence in season 3 that fans fail to understand. When she gets caught for lying and Stefan confronts her about it in 4x2, best to question how far back her lies go lol. Damon drops a body for the sake of getting the vampires to spread out. It gives him a better shot at killing Frederick. Trust me when I say Damon is a badass. Frederick runs after Stefan because he'd rather fight someone he knows he can beat.
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Damon is all-rage here, so there's no beating him. They took the wrong brother to torture, put it that way lol. This is the second vampire Alaric killed. He didn't have to save Damon, he chose to save him. "I'm going after Frederick!" Yes, that's how badly Damon wants Frederick. He's not gonna let him live, period. When Stefan and Elena get in the car, Elena realizes that the vampires tore up the wiring. She can't start the car. That's when Frederick smashes through the passenger window and yanks Stefan out of the car. Frederick would rather fight the vampire he knows is already weak because of his torture. The problem isn't the torture as much as it's Stefan's diet. If it were Damon they tortured, he'd still be beating the hell out of Frederick. He's about to kill Stefan when Elena injects him with vervain. If you want to know why Damon is Elena's escort in 1x19, it's all about the dead mothers...
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Damon is the only brother, the right brother to dance with Elena in honor of her dead mother. Because unlike Stefan, Damon would've allowed Anna to rescue Pearl. Anna had every intention of getting her mother out of that tomb, that didn't mean she intended to kill Elena. It's because of Elena's blood that Pearl was able to get out of the tomb AND Stefan is able to survive Frederick. Stefan is just as much like Damon, believing he's the one that chooses who becomes a vampire and who doesn't... who lives and who doesn't. He was gonna deny Pearl a life with her daughter. That's why he shouldn't escort Elena.
Poor Alaric finds out how hard it is to truly fight a vampire. Damon walks back in because he can't find Frederick. If he knew Frederick was with Stefan, he'd be saving Stefan because he knows how weak he is on animal blood. He's still very pissed and intent on killing him. "Frederick's gone. I'm gonna kill him." Feel the level of rage Damon has towards Frederick in this episode, how long that rage lasts, and you'll understand why he kills people impulsively...
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"You're dead." This is with every emotion... love, loss, fear. Going forward in my re-watch, it's best to refer back to this episode because that's how powerful his emotions are. For Damon, there's no thought to killing Frederick, he simply goes for the kill. He's basically forced to think first because he hasn't been invited in. That lack of an invite is the only thing stopping him from killing. That lack of an invite is part of Elena's role as Damon's Lexi-sponsor. She acts as a seal on a door that stops him from kiling people, that makes him think before he acts. He basically has to go through her, and he refuses to. Had she done this in 2x1, Damon would've pulled a full-stop on killing Jeremy. This kind of behavioral modification requires repetition and time. It's not just about getting him to think first. It's about getting him to stop because he's like the Ripper that way. So when he finds out Stefan killed Enzo in season 5, know why he's able to stop at one punch. I say this because he commits impulsive acts in pretty much every season. Nearly killing Bonnie in 1x9… that was an impulsive act. Killing Mr. Tanner, impulsive. Force-feeding Elena his blood, impulsive. Turning Vicki, impulsive. Tell Elena he's gonna take the cure for vampirism in season 6, impulsive. That's why Elena forces him to reconsider. His love is so powerful that he does without thinking. His impulsivity is just as "excusable" as Stefan's ripper gene. Both are capable of controlling their urges, it's just a matter of having the right teacher. I don't excuse Damon, but we have a great deal in common, so there are certain things about him that I understand. Your bachelors on Pearl's stage...
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Matt and his mother are about to have dinner when Caroline rings their doorbell. She and Liz inform them about Vicki. Because Mayor Lockwood is still at the Grill, he informs Tyler and Jeremy. There were meant to be 27 vampires in the tomb. Katherine's absence dropped it down to 26. At their boarding house, Stefan killed Bethanne. At Pearl's house… Alaric killed two, Damon killed three, and Stefan killed Frederick. That brings their count down to 19 tomb vampires.
Damon is still so full of rage because of Frederick that his fear of Pearl is gone. "Your merry little band of vampires spent the day torturing my brother." Just listen to his tone. "If I had a good side, not a way to get on it." Alaric knows the truth of this statement because thanks to Elena, he's seen Damon's good side. This is where he basically comes to understand that he should've went straight to Damon rather than trusting Stefan with his Isobel issue. All vampires are capable of good and bad. Sometimes their bad outweighs their good. Like Katherine, a character I truly can't stand. She has good moments, but not many.
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Feel the difference. Damon pulls away, Stefan pushes away. Stefan's apology is half-assed. "And what I did, I'm sorry that… I'm sorry that you had to see it." I consider this gaslighting. She didn't just see it, she experienced it. As much as he wants to deny it, he physically assaulted her. "And it's my fault. I made you..." Typical for the victim to blame themselves rather than blame who's truly at fault.
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Elena will excuse his violence until she no longer can, until that moment he nearly kills her in 3x5. Jeremy interrupts to inform Elena about Vicki, while having no idea that Elena already knew about Vicki. I love Liz in this scene because even though the founding families don't like Kelly, she's there as an understanding parent. Tyler sits with Jeremy, the two in Vicki's love triangle. Caroline tries to comfort Matt, but... some things take the right person, if that makes sense. Even though Matt is all-in with Caroline, he needs Elena to comfort him. They're best friends. From the sandbox, as Caroline said. They should've waited for Vicki. They didn't need her death for Damon's scene with Jeremy in 1x22, they just needed Anna's. I just feel like her death would've been more powerful for Damon and Matt had they waited. This bit with Damon and Alaric pulls a triple. What could've been in 1x15...
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It's a parallel Damon has with Kelly. She slept with the manager's boyfriend, he slept with Alaric's wife.
Kelly: I was supposed to be interviewing for the bartender job, but I think the manager blew me off. Damon: Well, that's not very nice.
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Kelly: Yeah. Last time I was in town, I slept with her boyfriend. Damon: That's not very nice either. Kelly: It happens. Damon: Yes it does.
"Uhh. Happens."
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It also weaves Alaric's comment in 1x21.
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This episode is when Alaric realizes he and Damon could've been friends. "Ah, this is a shame. We're kindred spirits, abandoned by the women we love. Unrequited love sucks."
Anna realizes that Jeremy wanted to turn for Vicki. She disappears as Jeremy apologizes. Damon goes home to find Stefan jacked up on human blood. He's not terrified for Stefan yet because he believes this is a binge rather than an addiction. Being a ripper doesn't mean being a blood junkie. There's a difference. Lily had no problem managing her intake of human blood while in the prison world. She'a been managing her blood intake since 1903. Even though she rips when she escapes her prison world, she's able to stop at one person. Stefan has to moderate like Lily, and he can't. Neither Damon or Lexi know this, they just know he's a ripper.
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longsightmyth · 1 year
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what's a book or series that you genuinely love? I'm always seeing your commentary on "not so great" (bad) books (no hate, love ur commentary) but I'd love to know the ones you like best.
Ah tumblr search function you fail us yet again (inexplicable fondness).
"The ones I like best" is a very broad category that I will try to narrow down I guess?
My favorite book of all time remains The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by NK Jemisin. The other books in the trilogy are still excellent (I have yet to read anything by NK Jemisin that is not excellent) but specifically the first book of the inheritance trilogy remains my favorite. Other standouts of hers include the short story The Effluent Engine and the second book of the Dreamblood series, The Shadowed Sun (though, again! I cannot stress enough that I'm not even sure NK Jemisin could write a bad book/story if she wanted to!)
I routinely recommend all of Alyssa Cole's romances: not only are they incredibly inclusive, the characters navigate believable conflicts based around their characterization and not simply Because Of The Plot. Her contemporary romances are some of the few contemporary romances I enjoy: it's not usually my genre, but anything Alyssa Cole writes I will read. Shoutout to her expansion into horror, she's also one of the few authors who will get me to read THAT genre. Standouts include Can't Escape Love (novella), A Duke by Default, and Let It Shine (also a novella). Another author who I cannot stress enough: just go read her entire backlog okay. She's got historical romances in a range of time periods. She's got contemporary romances. She's got horror, god help me.
The other author who can convince me to read horror is T Kingfisher, aka Ursula Vernon. Her fairytale retellings are A+ and always contain horror elements, and she is another author who has yet to write a dud for me. Standouts include Nettle & Bone (NETTLE AND BOOOOOOOOONE), The Raven and the Reindeer, and The Seventh Bride.
Tamora Pierce is sort of a no-brainer here for me. Her books are not always perfect by any means, but they are always progressive for the time they are written and she continues to improve and take feedback into account. Plus you probably owe the existence of your favorite stabby ya lady to her. Tortall owns my heart because I read it first but she has a lovely magic school series in a different world where friendship is literally magic and social commentary the norm.
The Dragonriders of Pern is not for everyone. Much of the sexual politics in the early novels are, as I have discussed elsewhere, outdated, but the books evolved as Anne McCaffrey's understanding did, and there are soulmate dragons and impeccably rendered closed time loops (multiples! Happening at the same time!) and a constant discussion and tension of evolving social norms and the needs of society: at what point does technology become Too Much? Does it at all? What happens when the people in charge stop giving a shit about their responsibilities? Seriously the impeachment plot in Dragonseye/red star rising is nearly prescient. Most of these conflicts originate early on but don't truly come to fruition until later, and please take my word for it and simply don't read the books written by her son. They are bad.
The Witchlands series by Susan Dennard! Tbh I think this series deserves more love than it gets. It's not perfect, it can improve, but that's the thing: it routinely does. Dennard puts time and care into her work from all sides and discusses openly her early and middle mistakes, from a technical level to a 'needing a sensitivity reader' level.
Sarah Rees Brennan! Y'all know I love Sarah Rees Brennan, right? You should. She likes to explore tropes and genre convention and snappy, snappy dialogue. I haven't reread The Lynburn Legacy yet this year, but that's an anomaly. In Other Lands is pretty widely acknowledged as superior portal fantasy, I think. Tell The Wind and Fire was constrained by the book it was retelling and I think suffered for it, but that just means it wasn't as good as I personally think it could have been, not that it wasn't good at all. The Demon's Lexicon trilogy is her first series and yes, okay, it shows a little, but have you ever thought to yourself, hey. What if Supernatural was actually, like. Good. And wanted to actually explore in a thoughtful manner morality and what it means to be a person and nature vs nurture and how complicated your relationships with parents can be. Because if so, go give The Demon's Lexicon a shot.
The Rivers of London! We will excuse magic cops this once because they are specifically *magic* cops and because Nightingale literally fought nazis and Peter is pretty critical of the met in general. These books almost make me like London, and as a bonus Peter is fully aware that King Arthur was Welsh (look this is important to me okay)
Lockwood & Co! I am on the final book now and really enjoying my feral child soldier ghosthunters. I want to give them all soup. I want to wrap them all in blankets. My inexplicable attraction to the actor playing Kipps in the show is irrelevant to book enjoyment but I am still flabbergasted, by all accounts it doesn't make sense.
The Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold is space opera. I love it. I admittedly love the Cordelia and Ekaterin novels most, but that is a matter of my eternal love for ladies who are generally nice but willing to fuck shit up, they're all good.
Artemis Fowl! Criminal mastermind child WHO JUST NEEDS FRIENDS OH MY GOD. I cried at the end of the third book. It's fine! We're all fine! Colfer does an excellent job of portraying the fairies as having a culture different from ours with real reasons that they haven't taken over the world, and if you don't love Holly you're wrong.
I have more but I'll stop here for now I guess. Whoops.
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artknifeandglue · 4 months
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as shattered stars shine: DVD commentary (3/12)
It is remarkably easy, the transition from dancing around Harry to whatever this is that they’ve got going. Eggsy makes himself at home in Harry’s office as always, sits there with his laptop or folder of readings or phone, stays until the evening sun paints the sky golden yellow and starts its descent towards the horizon. As always, he walks in step with Harry through the brightly lit corridors, stands patiently in wait for the shuttle, slips into the seat opposite Harry at dinner. What isn’t the same: the step he takes to close the distance between him and Harry, the warmth of Harry’s arm around his waist or shoulders, the fleeting goodbye kisses on Harry’s doorstep or his own. The world keeps turning, the stars keep shining in their places; here by the fireplace in Harry’s office, Eggsy sits in the armchair, cup of tea warming his hands while his second chance frowns at Bors’ latest mission report. This is worth a thousand souls, a thousand of him, a thousand times over.
The mundane is worth the extraordinary, or something something, I don’t know. At risk of sounding faux-poetic, I do think the small everyday moments of bliss are most precious, especially for Eggsy, who’s lost them once and probably didn’t have all that many of them to begin with.
“Hello, handsome,” he drawls, “come here often?”
Most unbelievable of all is how Harry leans forward in his chair and narrows the distance between them, resting his hands just within reach of Eggsy’s. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid I’m already taken."
“Shame,” Eggsy shrugs, though the grin he tries to suppress makes it to his face anyway. “Lucky guy, landing a bloke as fit as you.”
Harry reaches forward to put a hand over Eggsy’s, lifting the other to cup Eggsy’s cheek. “He’s quite the catch himself, actually.”
Any excuse to write stupid-ass cringey boyfriends sickeningly in love.
He’ll never get used to this, he thinks wildly, this ease of getting close enough to feel the heat radiating off Harry, to see the pretty curl of each dark eyelash, to be near enough to hear Harry murmur words of affection that make his heart beat a giddy rhythm against the walls of his ribcage. He’ll never get used to this, and he’ll never know how to live without this ever again, because how is he supposed to find a way to live without the knowledge of what Harry’s broad palm feels like against his skin?
He won’t, Eggsy thinks. And if he plays his cards right, he won’t have to.
Foreshadowing! But also, I do think being with your soulmate (whatever definition that word takes, platonic or romantic or anything) changes you in utterly irreversible ways just because there’s no one quite like that person ever again. Maybe I’m just a hopeless-romantic aromantic, I dunno.
“How,” Merlin demands, “did you manage to fuck up stealing?”
“AirTags don’t usually come with explosives built in!”
Headcanon from Kingsman: The Golden Circle: Eggsy’s being entirely sincere when he says “You know, I really don’t have as much experience with all this drug stuff as people think.” I think people in-universe probably make assumptions about how extensive Eggsy’s criminal background is, when he’s probably just a hell of a pickpocket and nothing else. I can’t remember where I read on Tumblr (probably?) someone suggesting that maybe he took the fall for a friend r.e. a drug charge, but that sounds like something he’d do. Quite funny for even Merlin to go “yeah okay we’ll send the thief to go steal shit, he’ll be just fine” only for it to not be fine.
As the last man keels over with his throat open and bleeding out, Harry straightens up and begins dusting plaster and gunpowder off his jacket, and Eggsy lowers his gun to stare. There are too many alarms going off around them and if they don’t get going now, there’ll be another fucking shootout and another report they’ll both have to write, but Harry looks brilliant like this, put-together and proper even with dust in his hair and on his suit and still devastatingly handsome. “We should go,” Harry says. When Eggsy doesn’t respond, he looks up and frowns. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Eggsy grins. “Anyone told you how hot you are?”
Harry rolls his eyes as he steps closer. “You’re incorrigible.” Yet he wraps an arm around Eggsy’s waist anyway and tugs him in, pressing their chests together, his heart beating strong against Eggsy’s ribcage as Eggsy laughs against his collarbone. In a few seconds, there are going to be bullets, and there is going to be hell from Merlin later for wasting precious getaway time like this, but right now Eggsy thinks only of tipping his head up enough to press his lips to the faintest hint of stubble on Harry’s jaw.
“We should move,” Harry murmurs, but he doesn’t let go. Eggsy buries his face into Harry’s shoulder, breathes in the mingled scents of cement dust and Harry’s cologne, and waits for the footsteps to draw nearer before he lifts his head and starts shooting.
To quote my lovely beta Bri (@lovingherwasgay), “my dude Merlin can see through YOUR GLASSES. he’s developing homophobia right now in the command centre” because ehhh what’s a bit more extra shooting if we get battle boyfriends hugging?
 A thought crosses Eggsy’s mind as Harry kneecaps a man and then shoots him with his own gun. How odd it is to have an Everest-sized crush on a bloke like this one whose hands are gentle on Eggsy’s waist or shoulder one moment and then lethal in the next, to have spent hundreds of hours in his company and known the taste of Earl Grey on his lips. How marvellously strange it is to know Harry Hart under the Galahad armour, to see the slight shift in his brow and glimpse the annoyance a second before he gripes about some bit of bullshit or other in the mission report in front of him, to make a cup of tea with lemon and two sugars alongside his own, to recognise in a slightly clenched jaw a migraine Harry tries to bullheadedly will out of existence. To know all the bits and pieces that make up this wonderful man, to love every inch of someone Eggsy barely knew a year ago and can’t imagine living without now. Even odder it is to realise how many more layers of Harry Hart await, how much there is to learn, how much there is to know.
The mundane is extraordinary. ‘Nuff said.
Later that night, as they lie in a tangle of limbs on thousand-thread-count sheets and the inevitable shelling from Merlin is still half a world away, there is all the time in the world to lean in for lazy, unhurried kisses. It’s dark out and has been for hours, the faint glow of the bedside alarm clock the only clue to the passing of the night. “I love you,” Eggsy whispers, and feels Harry’s lips curve into a smile against his. Outside, the stars sit frozen in their places in the sky, like time itself might stop for them, just for a little while.
Beautiful lil’ confession of love on a starry right, or lovely moment undercut by ominous celestial presence? Both.
But Harry hasn’t answered, and Eggsy turns to look and finds that Harry isn’t looking at him or even at the stars whizzing above them. Instead, his gaze is fixed on the oak tree at the edge of the grounds. Eggsy glances over in its direction, but the oak tree is still just an oak tree. Gently, he nudges Harry with his elbow, and Harry turns his head to meet Eggsy’s questioning gaze. “Sorry, were you saying something?”
“Is it the butterflies again?” Only Harry’s arm keeps him from scrambling to his feet to get Merlin or the medics all the way on the other end of the field. “No, seriously, is it them? The meds are supposed to—”
“It isn’t. Don’t worry.” Harry shakes his head, his arm tightening around Eggsy’s waist as though pre-empting another attempt to go fetch Merlin. “I thought someone was standing there, but I was mistaken. Trick of the light, that’s all.”
This is one of the parallel scenes in which Eggsy’s side of the story intersects with Harry’s side. Not all is well, but there is always a much more plausible explanation than “doomed by the narrative and Mephistopheles in a suit”, and Eggsy’s damn well not going to own up to having sold his soul for Harry.
It’s this, and a thousand more mornings like this, and a thousand more after that, again and again and again until they run out of time.
And they will run out of time living like this, Eggsy knows, but at least they have these moments, ones borrowed from a distant tomorrow. Harry’s lips are warm against his, and that is enough.
That will always be enough.  
If anything, these few lines are probably the thesis of the entire fic. To put everything on the line for another chance at ordinary happiness because ordinary happiness itself is a rare commodity, and to seize every bit of it precisely because time is never on anyone’s side.
And later, curled up next to Harry on fresh sheets, bodies moulded close like they were made to slot together, he tucks his chin into the dip of Harry’s collarbone and whispers those same words against the line of his neck, squeezing Harry’s hand and feeling him do the same in return. Harry runs his other hand through Eggsy's hair, gentle and slow and soothing. As the soft caresses on the back of Eggsy’s neck lull him to sleep, Eggsy closes his eyes and presses a light kiss to Harry’s shoulder for good measure. “I love you.”
Why’s he saying it so many times? I think he’d want to make up for never saying it previously. Not that Harry minds.
The phantom echoes of a gunshot echoing off the walls, Harry’s head snapping back with the force of a bullet piercing flesh and shattering bone. Oxfords slipping on concrete slick with blood, chunks of scorched brain matter and pulverised skull squelching and crunching underfoot with each step as he hurls himself towards the heart of a mountain bunker. Bodies, tens and hundreds of them lying heaped in his way, a second of weightlessness as he trips on an outstretched hand. Metal rasping as Gazelle shears away entire chunks of his makeshift weapon, blade edges inching closer and closer to his hand, his chest, his throat. Sickly green spidering along her arm, up her neck and all over her face as flesh rots before his eyes and she gasps for air that she won’t need any longer. The sickening crunch of Valentine’s body hitting the ground, thin lips pulled back to reveal twin rows of bloodied teeth, the macabre grin of a dying man whose every shuddering breath sends air hissing through pierced lungs and torn flesh, flecks of red sputtering in every direction with each exhale. With an awful sucking sound, Valentine takes a deep breath and says—
“Eggsy?” That isn’t Valentine’s voice. “Eggsy.”
Obviously as an action movie, the aftermath gets glossed over quite a bit, especially the psychological aftermath of everything. I do think Eggsy would have been trained well enough to hold his own and that he’d be prepared for a fight, but the utter horror of V-Day is an entirely different thing that’s grotesque and terrible in its own way. Some things stay with you long after they end, and I wonder if some part of Eggsy’s mind will always be in that bunker desperately trying to prevent the end of the world. While I’m not ruling out the possibility that the nightmares are deliberately induced by Mephistopheles, I don’t think he needs to do very much in that regard. The human brain is sort of fucked up in that way.
“Four,” Harry answers. “Nightmare?” “Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
No, Eggsy thinks, no, he doesn’t. The last thing he wants to talk about is the memories staling and yellowing in the recesses of his mind. Instead, all he can think of is how wonderful it is to wake up and wrap his arms around Harry like the world’s clingiest octopus, to feel the feather-light brush of Harry’s thumb over his cheekbone. How wonderful it is to be surrounded by sheets and pillows that Harry’s scent clings to, to wrap himself up in blankets that smell like home; how precious it is to wake up with Harry beside him, close enough to reach out and touch, to have, to keep.
How it was always going to end this way, the two of them in the house that they share, hand in hand as Eggsy lifts their joined hands to his lips and presses a sleepy kiss to the ridges of Harry’s knuckles. “Nothing,” he replies, feeling the last of his panic fade away. “Love you.” When Harry murmurs I love you too, it sounds like a confession, a blessing.
That night, Eggsy sleeps and doesn’t dream again.
Ahahahahahahaha it’s never a good thing when the words that appear in the summary actually turn up in the fic, is it? This was the first line I wrote and decided I was absolutely going to repeat, because it does capture a lovely domesticity at the same time as there’s a sense of doom or inevitability. Is their happiness inevitable, or is it their doom? Yes. Dunno. Both. I think it’s also worth pointing out that none of their dreams are pleasant ones, because 1) opportunity for the subconscious to make itself known 2) meddling Mephisto? Maybe.
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