stormlit

[stormlit]

is this how it could always have been? instead of spending thirty years trapped in the prison of her fourteen year old body, stuck with those she'd once thought of as angels, but had come to realise were disappointingly just men, claudia could have been in a community, surrounded by people who truly wanted her there. she could have been killing and laughing and belonging. every time she steps foot in the théâtre, she never wants to leave.

dear diary, her pen scratches across the page; she's hidden up on a roof, half-looking for someone interesting to eat, journal propped up against her knee, i think i found something that might fill the aching hole in my belly that never goes away, no matter how much blood i—

she's not alone. in a heartbeat, claudia's pen is capped, diary snapped shut. it's not louis (of course; he's too busy losing his mind over armand's dick to come looking for her, these days), and so she's got to be careful. she likes the other vampires, but sometimes she can almost feel lestat, standing over her fucking shoulder. he looks like a devil, like an omen, like a ghost.

❝ ain't there a curfew y'all gotta follow? ❞

@pluresque (riccardo) liked for a starter

[stormlit]

@mahmur (john) said: "well, of course, it's probably a trap…but what've we got to lose finding out?"

a sigh is heaved out, and with it smoke from the cigarette sadie is very glad to be smoking right now. does nobody round here think anything through? and yeah, sadie gets it — gets the impulsive need to act, the same kind of rash desperation that's led to her chasing any talk of stray o'driscoll boys — but she also knows how not to get dead. she's known it all along; she just didn't care all that much, for a long while. still doesn't think she's gonna make it to old age. any hope of sitting on a rocking chair on the porch with white hair is long dead, burnt to ash and left to ruin up in the grizzlies. she's just here for however long she's got, now, 'til someone shoots her.

it takes another drag of her cigarette before she actually speaks, free hand resting on her holster. ❝ it's prob'ly a trap, so...our lives? you wanna walk us into an ambush, marston? ❞

[stormlit]

has she, finally, lost her grip on reality? it was only a matter of time, right? natalie feels as though it's been an inevitability her entire life, that something might tip her over the edge. at first, things had been a little weird, but excusable; some visiting speaker or professor or whatever had barged into her practice room and disappeared into a storage closet that seemed, from the glimpse she got inside, far larger than it should have done. and now, halfway through fantasia in c minor, as he comes back out, she looks up and—

❝ hey, uh. ❞ her hands fall from the keys mid-phrase, eyebrows furrowed. she's just seeing things, isn't she? she has to be. she laughs, a little hysterical, as she adds, ❝ where'd the door go? ❞

@crazypaving liked for a starter

[stormlit]

he's probably not supposed to leave the mess with a bottle in hand, but given that he's been drinking coca-cola all evening, fionn doesn't think anyone's going to give a damn about it. now he and his firefighters are about to ship out to follow behind the troops, armed with hoses instead of handguns, to work with the yanks who've welcomed them with open arms (and, to the joy of everyone who hasn't had to swear off alcohol so they don't slide into far worse habits again, an open bar). this last little while is going to be like this, fionn thinks, drinking their fears away.

he can't do that. and while he survived the eight months of the blitz, a hell of a battle on the home front, with bombs endlessly falling on top of them, there's still fear to drink away. yet fionn can't stay inside any longer, skin itching beneath his uniform; he takes his coke and searches for somewhere quiet to drink it.

there's a grassy spot he likes, half-hidden away, where the notes of the band just barely reach. fionn heads there, expecting to be alone; instead, someone else has already sought a reprieve from everyone else. he squints in the moonlight to make out a face. ❝ darcy, yeah? you mind having some company? ❞

@tealias (mitch) liked for a starter

[stormlit]

like for a short starter! you can request a muse if you want, but it's not necessary. multis pls tell me who it's for.

[stormlit]

❝ yet it will never be the same, ❞ she says quietly. nor should it be; éowyn is a shieldmaiden no more, her life taking a direction that her younger self could never have anticipated. once, she had been full of restless energy, a desperation to do, to be, to act, when her position was tying her to one spot. now, finally, she has found a stillness that is not that of a weary caged bird, but of one who knows where she belongs. and all it cost was nearly everything.

nearly everything. but not actually. even boromir, her brother now, made it through, though he, too, has been changed by the war he'd thought lived in his veins.

the sword is stored safely in the racks and éowyn nods, leading them a little distance from the training dummies, so they might sit and talk. ❝ how fares the shire? ❞ she asks — a place she'd once thought belonged in stories, and now is dear to her heart, though she has never seen it herself. ❝ and dear merry, of course, how is he? you reminded him, i hope, that he would be a guest of honour, should he choose to visit us. ❞

a muted nod in agreement passes his features as he watches her blade be lowered. " hold fast to the strength you have, at least one of us ought to. " he concedes, leaning against a low stone wall. they were both raised in war, he recognizes the need to stay sharp, despite the peace that has finally found them. he would too, but his legs are not what they once were - no part of him really is, but seeing who he has become, that is not all-together a tragedy. " do you have a moment? i come with news from the shire. your brother in arms, and my gracious host, asked me to pass you a message. however - be warned, it is the length of five. "

[stormlit]

like for a short starter! you can request a muse if you want, but it's not necessary. multis pls tell me who it's for.

[stormlit]

fionn was incredibly close to his maternal grandparents, who he spent every single school holiday with growing up — every christmas (sometimes with his mum/siblings), the whole summer, just him and not his siblings. it was always the happiest he was, and he never wanted to leave again. he also went to university in cork, with them living about an hour outside the city, and so he'd visit them at least once a week. when his dad disowned him, he ran to his nan. his grandad died at the beginning of fionn's second year of uni, his nan about five years later, and though his siblings raised protests, fionn was their sole inheritor.

they weren't rich, but there was a little money which fionn spent on a decent rehab programme, finally taking his nan's advice to do it for himself, and not because his dad frog-marched him there. he inherited their little two bed cottage, which he's thought about selling numerous times but never could — for one, he lives in london and the proceeds would still not bring him anywhere close to being able to afford a decent place to live, but mostly he's sentimental and he can't bring himself to sell the only place he was happy as a kid. he airbnb's it most of the time, because there's plenty of people who want to go walking in ireland but be close to a city, which helps him with his rent (firefighters don't earn a huge amount, it means he can rent a nicer place), and goes there when he needs to get away from town.

much more importantly to fionn, he inherited his grandad's extensive vinyl collection. it ranges across so many genres, from classical to rock to punk, and they spent a long time listening to music and talking about it, going on the hunt for good vintage records etc. he also inherited his grandparents' instruments. he has a fiddle he doesn't know how to play, a couple of guitars, and the upright piano his nan taught him to play on as a kid. fionn's a guitarist, piano is definitely a secondary instrument for him, but he still went through the rigmarole of getting it transported to london, and it's now in his living room, along with the records and other instruments.

[stormlit]

❝ if you wasn't such an idiot, i wouldn't have to yell. ❞ sadie's well aware that she's not been an outlaw very long, especially when compared to those who were all but born into it, but sometimes she wonders how any of them have survived until now. and maybe that's uncharitable of her, when there's plenty of folks more unsavoury than dutch's boys out there, but—john lost her horse. she likes that horse! more than she likes him, right at this moment.

sadie scoffs, rubbing her forehead; she thinks she's got a headache building. ❝ imagine if you'd'a thought of shootin' 'em when they was takin' the horses. ❞ jesus christ. well, nothing for it but to start walking, she guesses. ❝ you know which way they went? we ain't gonna catch up on foot. ❞

" yell it a little louder, why dont you! " petulant, he scuffs his boot against the dirt, sending a rock flying as one hand removes the hat from his head and the other runs through his hair in frustration. if the tip of his ears have gone pink, then that's between him and his wounded pride. " and i'm not gonna fucking talk to 'em, " he deadpans, as if him learning from his mistakes is something to be taken for granted. " i'm going to shoot 'em, and then steal our goddamn horses back. " he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, " we've only got to ... find 'em first. "

[stormlit]

ok i absolutely need to know what accents u all have pls reblog and tell me or comment or whatever I must know

[stormlit]

feel free to change any pronouns, etc. || may contain some nsfw!

“You’re the only one I can rely on to stay strong right now.”

“We got fire and shelter– that’s a start.”

“I never thought I’d be so pleased to see your face.”

“Knew a feller– got bit by a dog; died an hour later.”

“Thanks for coming for me.”

“Y’know, we’re gonna need to come up with a better story for that scar.”

“So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death, ain’t good enough for you?”

“You always said revenge is a luxury we can’t afford.”

“You know I got your back.”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“You’re always one with the jokes, aren’t you?”

“I just don’t want anymore people to die.”

“Sounds like he has more than enough to share.”

“Get to work, but stay out of trouble.”

“I’ve seen shit with more common sense than you!”

“You’re my favorite parasite. No…ringworm’s my favorite parasite– you’re my second favorite parasite. I lied… Ringworm, then rats with the plague, then you.”

“I’ve got an unfortunate face.”

“You won the fight already– surely that’s enough?”

“I could do with a break from this place.”

“I fear you don’t know how to help anyone excepting yourself.”

“Only the feeblest of men take jobs in the government.”

“Please send him my worst regards.”

“[Name] wouldn’t know sadness if it died in is bed.”

“It’s about time that you started to earn you keep.”

“Why do you have to speak so much? It’s…incessant.”

“Looks like I’ve turned into the goddamn errand boy.”

“You ain’t as tough and dense as all that.”

“That’s not how you are.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“How did someone even come up with them words?”

“I ain’t chopping vegetables for a living.”

“I’m sorry, [Name], was there insufficient feathers in your pillow?”

“I ain’t afraid of dying.”

“I ain’t here to rob you, though that seems easy enough.”

“Think of it as payback for [Name].”

“I ain’t in the revenge business, [Name].”

“I swear he talked the whole way and never actually said a damn thing.”

“He somehow manages to be both lucky and unlucky at the same time.”

“You should’ve taken the money.”

“You know me; I like to make friends in low places.”

“You mess up– it’s just one of them things; I mess up– I’m the prize idiot.”

“You are a man of profoundly limited intelligence.”

“Well, of course, it’s probably a trap…but what’ve we got to lose finding out?”

“Okay, just keep calm until I give you a reason not to.”

“Oh, my dear and trusted friend, with you watching over, I would walk into hell itself.”

“I dream too big; I care too much– that’s my problem.”

“All you do is complain when things don’t work out– except when it’s your goddamn fault.”

“If you ain’t gonna be civilized about this…”

“I don’t expect you to understand this, but I have never been more proud of you than I am right now.”

“This place ain’t no such thing as civilized– It’s man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites.”

“He makes my skin crawl… Some swarthy cocksucker… You know what I mean, friend?”

“If you’re a girl without means in this world, life is very scary…”

“She didn’t love enough, I guess… Or I wouldn’t change.”

“In these books, life seems so simple, but, in reality, I… I can’t make head nor tail of it.”

“Oh, I see that kindly face of yours and I know, for the right inducements, a gentleman such as yourself could be mighty kind.”

“Oh now, you keep saying that, but you don’t mean nothing by it.”

“She is driven by forces I scarcely understand…”

“That’s what love has done to her, I guess.”

“We each got….fifteen dollars. Oh, and a quarter… Don’t forget the quarter.”

“If there’s a problem, it’s for me.”

“I thought you wasn’t getting involved.”

“We are gonna be harvesting mangoes in Tahiti.”

“You better be right about this one…”

“Have some goddamn faith.”

“I am bending over backwards to make a future for us!”

“There simply isn’t a reality in which we do nothing, and get everything.”

“I think he’ll be okay– if he don’t get a fever.”

“Well, he definitely lacks a certain charm.”

“Don’t you ever leave love aside, [Name], it’s all we got.”

“I possess things you will never understand.”

“Every plan is a good plan if we execute it properly.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about all this.”

“That is one of the most beautiful acts I ever saw.”

“An insect bit you or something? ‘Cause you gone, friend.”

“I will do whatever it takes for us to survive.”

“I still ain’t sure what you’re saying, [Name].”

“This feller is really beginning to try my patience.”

“Nobody knows who you are– not even your goddamn father.”

“We’ll find each other eventually. We always do.”

“My fair heart jumps for joy when I set eyes on you, [Name].”

“You can see why he has such a high opinion of himself.”

“I’ll wipe that goddamn smirk clean off your face.”

“You could’ve cleaned yourself up a bit.”

“I didn’t realize I was here to impress anyone.”

“Strangeness, I can handle– It’s the normal business of life I can’t seem to get a grip on.”

“You’re an idiot, but you’ll always be my friend.”

“Well, of course I’m your friend, but…you ain’t always fair with me.”

“If I was fair with you and a good person, I’d have had you hanged a long time ago.”

“So, shut up, and act like a gentleman… or at least try to for once in your brainless life.”

“It’s sort of beautiful, in a gaudy, and tasteless way…”

“Quite ridiculous, but somehow very amusing.”

“You can see why folks don’t wanna come around here– Ain’t exactly a welcoming place.”

“I don’t owe you nothing!”

“I loved you, you goddamn bastard!”

“She knew the rules, [Name]– What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I wanted to shoot her?!”

“I don’t know anymore… I’m not sure if I even care.”

“Well, the best thing is rest and getting somewhere warm and dry, and taking it easy.”

“We can’t change what’s done; we can only move on.”

“He didn’t have a choice, He was good and he did good.”

“I understand if you don’t wanna help me, but… but… I think of you often.”

“He’s quite the character; I think you’ll like him.”

“Y’know… I’m impressed. You’ve really stepped things up, ain’t you?”

“Hey, we didn’t know if you was even coming back.”

“You have a real habit of stating the obvious, [Name].”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I only left you an hour ago. You can’t stay out of trouble for one goddamn hour?”

“You got that poor bastard killed for his troubles– I kind of liked him!”

“Insist all you like; ain’t happening!”

“Well, I ain’t the crying sort, but, I’m real grateful!”

“This better not be no stupid revenge mission, [Name].”

“It’s just a simple social call.”

“So, what are we gonna say to him, that needs to be said?”

“This ain’t making a lot of sense, [Name].”

“Business doesn’t give two figs about feelings, sir. Not two figs.”

“Your impudence will be our undoing, sir.”

“Don’t play dumb and superior at the same time, [Name].”

“Feels like the whole world’s closing in on us.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“I think it’s a real bad idea.”

“See, I’m starting to think that you’ve gone soft, [Name].”

“So I was thinking, you go play dead, and I’ll take care of ‘em.”

“You play dead and I’ll cover you.”

“Nice shooting back there!”

“I could use a drink after that.”

“Listen… I know we ain’t always seen eye to eye, and…you find me irritating and a threat…and I like to annoy you…but right now I need better from you, [Name].”

“I ain’t the bad guy you think I am, [Name].”

“There’s a big picture here, [Name].”

“I feel like you should take your woman and child and get lost.”

“it’s that or…well, I don’t see no way outta this.”

“When the time comes, you gotta run and don’t look back.”

“That just ain’t how I wanna die.”

“You rally think that’ll draw attention away from us?”

“Y’know, all that ever mattered to me was loyalty. It was all I knew– It was all I ever believed in.”

“I’m seeing things a lot more clearly now.”

“I wish things were different… But it weren’t us who changed.”

“You don’t seem yourself somehow…”

“Surely this can be done without killing anyone?”

“We shoot fellers as need shooting, we save fellers as need saving, feed them as need feeding.”

“It’s been quite a while since we helped anyone, but ourselves, and even you know that.”

“I have a plan, you just have to trust me.”

“This is exactly the distraction we need.”

“Hey. Hey– you know I wasn’t gonna let it come to that.”

“I guess I don’t know what I know no more.”

“May God, in his infinite wisdom, have mercy upon your soul.”

“My whole life, I have tried to fight change.”

“Y’know, you and me… We’re more ghosts than people.”

“I miss him every day… every moment.”

“They turned me into a monster.”

“You’re the best man I’ve known.”

“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

“Sometimes the correct path, the bravest path…is the least obvious, and also the gentlest.”

“My whole life I have tried to bring peace.”

We can talk if you want to, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I should not have let you do this for me.”

“I hope you can find peace within yourself.”

“He’s a man who, not so long ago, I would have found weak and pathetic. Now I see as wise and thoughtful, and sensible.”

“We must act with due caution.”

“A failed man is often the most dangerous.”

“Hey, show some goddamn respect!”

“You’ll know when I ain’t showing respect.”

“I had a plan… I still have a plan!”

“I am tired of this constant dissent, long tired of it.”

“I’m gonna try and save him.”

“You’re quite the hero, ain’t you?”

“Come on… Don’t doubt me no more.”

“You saved my life more than once… To give mine for yours…it’s as it should be.”

“Everything is coming together exactly as I planned.”

“I’m afraid I have to insist.”

“Of course, pal… Whatever you think is best.”

“He insists upon it… Insists…”

“Don’t talk to me you son of a bitch.”

“Do it my way, honey. It’s for the best.”

“I’m gonna get you outta this bullshit if it’s the last goddamn thing I do.”

“It would mean a lot to me… Please…”

“You don’t know how much I’ve longed to do this.”

“All there is– winning…and losing…”

“In the end, despite my best efforts to the contrary, it turns out I’ve won.”

“I gave you all I had… I did.”

“I tried in the end… I did.”

“I ain’t too proud to do nothing.”

“I love you. Don’t you forget that– not ever now.”

“You stop acting like a goddamn storybook hero, will you?”

“I guess I was dreaming a little. At least give me that.”

“I did what I had to do to protect you.”

“I thought you was dead.”

“You know, speaking in monosyllables don’t make you seem interesting, it makes you seem stupid.”

“I never thought she was a smart woman, but this makes me think maybe I was wrong.”

“No, you’re stuck with me; seems I’m stuck with you.”

“Let’s just hope things don’t turn out like last time.”

“Now, you used to be decent company, but now, you’re worse than a snake with a toothache.”

“Get some self-respect you miserable sack of shit.”

“I just need a bit of peace and quiet from your incessant yapping.”

“That’s kind– unlikely to be taken up, but kind.”

“You always did have that fine way with words.”

“Do you wish I was more like you?”

“There’s a lot of ugly in this world, but there sure as hell is a lot of beauty.”

“Ain’t you just the leading authority on everything?”

“Sometimes, you just don’t know how things are gonna turn out.”

“I think I’m gonna ask her to, uh, marry me.”

“I never took you for a romantic.”

“It’s been ages since we spent any time together.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you ain’t that much to look at.”

“Why you being so courteous?”

“You’re acting kinda…funny.”

“You know, you’re not very nice to me.”

“Oh, I’m nicer than you deserve.”

“What’re you doing with that arm?”

“I thought you might be cold.”

“You’re acting real strange…”

“Will you marry me?”

“Shut up, you silly man, and kiss me!”

“You’re bleeding pretty bad.”

“I don’t like it…I love it. It’s home.”

[stormlit]

❝ yeah, forgive me if i don't find that very reassuring. ❞ i don't mean you any harm, so said anyone who ever did mean someone harm, right? the thing is, until this moment, the whole vampires-are-real thing has been kind of...alluring, in the way of every gothic horror film ever. he's never been immune to hollywood vampires. but fionn met lestat the same way he might meet any other guy. they do things he might do with any friend. displays of superhuman power have been used to show off, more than anything—and it's worked. it's hot. (listen, fionn's not a small man; lestat's strength has been entirely a turn on.) even the blood thing...once he got over the weirdness, it felt good. there's an intimacy in that, some kind of connection he's never felt before.

any threat, any danger has been kind of theoretical. now it's not.

fionn feels the way he does when a call starts to turn bad; adrenaline pumping through him, focus sharpening. he's sure his heart's going at a rate of knots, but he runs into fires for a living, he's used to that. the man steps towards him, and fionn has to tamp down the instinct to take a step back. to run like a rabbit who's caught the attention of a wolf. a rabbit armed with a mobile phone in one hand, and a takeaway in the other. this isn't sexy; it's unsettling.

❝ what do you want from me? ❞ he asks, suddenly grateful that his job is dangerous enough that it takes more than this for his voice to shake. don't show weakness, right? isn't that what you're meant to do? fionn meets the vampire's (strange, inhuman) eyes. he wants something, right? this isn't some random attack; this man knows lestat. he found fionn with intention. ❝ and who are you? ❞

it's better when they notice. some humans don't, so oblivious and cut off from danger that he could slip up behind them, sink his fangs into their throat and they wouldn't notice until he let them. others are in tune with the subtle shift around them, the hair rising on the back of their necks, the instinctive pull of prey from predator. armand remembers being more aware as a human, but maybe it stemmed from knowing vampires were real.

( like fionn does. )

he sees him pull out his phone, hears the name lestat from his thoughts and can't help the subtle smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. lestat's not close tonight, he made sure before he approached ( not that lestat couldn't reach them if he discovered armand stalking his little pet ). armand's not looking to start a fight with the other vampire. in fact, he'd rather avoid the blossoming rock star for the time being.

as fionn calls him out, armand steps out of the shadows to reveal himself. ❝ don't worry about lestat, ❞ he says, taking a few steps closer. ❝ i don't mean you any harm. ❞ while it's honest, he's well aware that he's made no real attempt to seem less unsettling. but, he's not interested in making him comfortable. he's far more interested in seeing what makes him tick, and what it is that lestat likes about it.

[stormlit]

❝ one'a these days, mitch, you're gonna do something really wild. i hope i'm there to see it. ❞ donny isn't in mitch's regiment, though with michael gone, he kind of wishes he was, wishes there was leadership he could truly rely on, someone who knew him. he's not even in the air corps — which is probably a good thing, since he doesn't know the first thing about planes. they'll have to part, sooner or later, thanks to orders from on high...and that's the darker truth to what donny says, hidden beneath a whisky smile. next time they ship out, he doesn't think he'll make it back. michael always looked out for him, right from the first day of basic, knew him before constant days of fighting turned donny into the wreck he, with the help of booze, cigarettes, and music, is pretending not to be, was the kind of sergeant to always drag him through a battle. michael kept him alive.

donny's not sure he'll make it back. he's not sure he wants to. how's a fella meant to just...keep going, and keep on doing it for the rest of his fucking life?

the change of topic doesn't go unnoticed, but neither is it unexpected, and donny's happy to let it slide, to tap his fingers against his glass instead. before this last campaign, he'd have been at the piano already, michael on drums, turning the evening to one filled with joy. but things are different, now. and it's good to see mitch, to find familiarity in a world that is nothing like the one they used to know. ❝ no. but if it involves a plane turning a cow into ground beef, i'm not sure i want to know. ❞

donny's grin spreads like wildfire, leaping from where he lights up a cigarette and easily catching on the corners of his own as he's finishing the last bit of his drink. for a moment, he is reminded of somewhere else: muted light, music making the crowd swing, a familiar grin. it doesn't seem so far away, in time or space, not when they're able to talk like this. even for just a moment. " you wouldn't be the only one, but maybe i'm sparing you by abstaining. i could be a natural for all you know. " he chuckles, gaze dropping to where his glass sits empty before him. sullivan palone had offered five dollars to anyone who could manage to so much as get a gelled-down blonde hair of his to act out of line, and as if his thoughts were being broadcast, the younger officer catches his eyes from across the bar, saluting with the dart before it's thrown against the crudely hung bullseye.

" ⸺ the thing is, i dont think they possess enough shame in their bodies to know what embarrassment is. " he laughs, unable to keep the fond note out of his voice as he plucks a cigarette from the offered package. they both know he is not going to smoke it, which is why he gingerly places it behind his own ear, keeping it for when donny starts looking for smokes during their walk back in the early morning. " speaking of, did i tell you about the cow incident ? "

[stormlit]

most of the time, the songs donny writes (music/lyrics) are very much written for a popular audience. they're written with the idea of becoming the next big hit, something people will want to dance to at bars and dance halls. they're punchy, the lyrics are snappy, they're upbeat. good songs, but very much of a style; every song that he canonically writes in the show falls into this kind of category. ain't we proud, you deserve it, nobody, i got a theory (cowritten with julia, but much more a donny-style song). donny wants to be a star. he thinks it'll solve all of his problems. and while he does touch on the troubles he's facing (the cut preview version of ain't we proud talks about war a lot more, for example), he writes with this in mind. it's the swing big band era, at the end of an awful war; he doesn't think people want reminders of what hurts, even when he himself is dying inside.

it's different when he writes the music for julia's lyrics; the songs she's the lyricist for started life as poems, and they demand a different kind of music. there's a lot of emotion in the words, and so there's a lot of emotion in the music that donny sets them to. love will come and find me again, welcome home. it becomes less about getting a billboard number 1 hit, and more about what it makes people feel.

and it's when donny's just playing, not writing, when he's overwhelmed by the world, his feelings, and the flashbacks he's dealing with, and so he turns to the piano to escape, that his playing really shows the true emotion that's within him. it's not pretty, it's not polished, it's not for the general public. there aren't specific songs for this, but these two clips are of moments where this is true: number one, number two (aka my favourite moment in the entire show, which also shows how he visualises the full orchestrations from his piano).

[stormlit]

christ, he's an idiot. maybe his dad was right all along, and fionn does fuck up everything he touches. he'd thought that by ignoring lestat's texts, he was protecting himself from feeling as pitifully human as he does. he'd thought it was easier not to sit next to someone who looks the way lestat does, who can heal from anything, and have to accept that even the supernatural cannot change the reality that fionn's found himself in. and he'd thought he was protecting his heart, too.

now he sees—and like an idiot, it might be too late. he sees that he's spent half this time lonely or going off the rails because he cut himself off, that even if there had been nothing lestat could do to help, he still could have talked to him. and, yeah, he's got eyes; he sees lestat's hurt. fionn never meant to cause that.

he didn't know he could.

❝ no, just my arm, ❞ he mutters, devoid of emotion. he doesn't try to excuse the silence. honestly, he wouldn't even know how; sorry, i got freaked out by nearly dying, i lost my arm and my sobriety, and i didn't know how to handle the fact that i like a guy who's immortal so i chose to be cowardly and pathetic instead? what kind of answer is that? christ.

instead he nods at lestat's offer, his hand coming up to wrap fingers around his wrist, skin to skin. it's not enough, but fionn has no idea what he's allowed to do. ❝ i'm sorry. i—" he takes a deep breath and finally looks up again, making himself meet those blue eyes, ❝ i've been really fucked up, and i thought—but i was wrong, and i'm sorry. it wasn't anything you did. and it-it's okay if you are mad. you can yell at me and everything, i deserve that. ❞

he doesn't need the heart monitor to tell him the speed that fionn's heart quickens when he enters the room. when he'd first been injured, lestat respected the distance. something about mortal injuries deserving space from the vampire in his life had made sense to lestat. should he have shown up with flowers? could he have helped his recovery better? he doubts he would have accepted his blood or furthermore, the gift. and lestat knows he would have offered, he would have pushed in fear that an injury could take his life.

( it still took his arm )

what he doesn't expect is to be entirely ghosted. certainly, he could occupy himself with other things. moonlighting as a rockstar kept him busy enough. was it even moonlighting anymore? he'd been drawn into his rebranding — this persona that resonated beyond even his wildest and most self-obsessed dreams. but saying that he could find himself a distraction doesn't change the fact that he'd been worried enough to send him dozens of texts, all with no response.

hi. that's it? hi. the vampire heaves a sigh as he further walks into the hospital room. he doesn't yet say that he knows more than he should about what happened. he'd already been in his head, looking for answers. it's why he showed up. it's no coincidence that he knew when he'd be discharged or that he knew just how bad the situation had been walking into it.

❝ well, i expected a little more than a ‘ hello. ’ you know, perhaps a sorry, my phone was crushed beyond repair and i couldn't message you back? ❞ it isn't anger, it's fretful. what if he'd died and lestat had done nothing? mortal lives were nothing, if not fragile. ❝ mad? no. i'm not mad. ❞ blue eyes don't study him much longer before he crosses over to help him with his jacket. ❝ let me help. ❞

[stormlit]

The Flatshare (2022).

[stormlit]

— if i'm an angel, paint me with black wings.

[ #DEVOURCR ] independent & selective vampire armand based on both the amc adaptation of interview with the vampire and anne rice's novels. heavily headcanon-inspired with verses in DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, SUPERNATURAL, RESIDENT EVIL, & BG3. 18 + only / minors dni ! promo by @nassycomms ♡