Oh my fucking god. I mean, you’re one of my favorites in this fandom, hands down, but this is stunning. Your turn of phrase is simply stunning. Always. Please be patient with me, this is probably going to be rather disjointed - I’m writing as I read to make sure I don’t miss a single thing in this stunning work.
Like this: or the narrow arch of his spine bent like a willow branch in the brittle unspeaking moments just before moonrise opened its mouth and unzipped along his spine. I don’t have the words. Somehow you always manage to leave me speechless.
And that fight in the motel that first day. Break my heart why don’t you. All the ways the war has taken little bites out of their ties to each other, and somehow left them more tangled together. And this: All along the road in the blazing spread of late afternoon the sun pulled their shadows towards each other, and when the wind changed directions they pressed close to each other, Remus’s arms around his waist and Sirius’s shoulderblades pressed to the headwaters of his pulse in his chest where it slid down the tributary of Sirius’s spine and into his own. Altogether this was undifficult to decode: it was surrender, and shelter, and get the fuck over yourselves. It was not exactly forgiveness. You’re going to kill me before this is over, aren’t you?
Okay, I love how they finally slip together, half fighting, half finally giving up the fight. The way that Sirius’ jealousy is so plainly obvious, but Sirius thinks he’s being subtle, meanwhile Remus has been using it to both piss him off and maybe get him to say something, and somehow still not believing it’s anything more than the war. But then you went and did this: “I would know,” said Sirius, some aimless and jelly-limbed time after they’d cleaned up. “If you weren’t really you. That’s like asking me to do Lumos or count to three.” I mean, honestly, what a heartrending sentiment. And so very Sirius.
And then that ending. Oh my god. Just. Dumbledore. And them fleeing. And we don’t know what happens. And just! I mean, we do, in that I’m sure this slipslides its way into canon and we can extrapolate from there. But how they fix this immediate threat before moving on to the next? But I sort of love that about it. I mean, war is tripping between moments of calm and panic anyway, and this managed to deliver on that front perfectly. The entire thing had that hazy dreamlike quality to it anyway, so that the tension was far more palpable when it hit, because it had been thrumming just out of sight the entire time anyway. That flicker just at the edge of your vision that you can’t quite resolve into something solid until there it is.
This was an incredible read. Amazing, wonderful job.
no subject
Like this:
or the narrow arch of his spine bent like a willow branch in the brittle unspeaking moments just before moonrise opened its mouth and unzipped along his spine.
I don’t have the words. Somehow you always manage to leave me speechless.
And that fight in the motel that first day. Break my heart why don’t you. All the ways the war has taken little bites out of their ties to each other, and somehow left them more tangled together. And this:
All along the road in the blazing spread of late afternoon the sun pulled their shadows towards each other, and when the wind changed directions they pressed close to each other, Remus’s arms around his waist and Sirius’s shoulderblades pressed to the headwaters of his pulse in his chest where it slid down the tributary of Sirius’s spine and into his own. Altogether this was undifficult to decode: it was surrender, and shelter, and get the fuck over yourselves. It was not exactly forgiveness.
You’re going to kill me before this is over, aren’t you?
Okay, I love how they finally slip together, half fighting, half finally giving up the fight. The way that Sirius’ jealousy is so plainly obvious, but Sirius thinks he’s being subtle, meanwhile Remus has been using it to both piss him off and maybe get him to say something, and somehow still not believing it’s anything more than the war. But then you went and did this:
“I would know,” said Sirius, some aimless and jelly-limbed time after they’d cleaned up. “If you weren’t really you. That’s like asking me to do Lumos or count to three.”
I mean, honestly, what a heartrending sentiment. And so very Sirius.
And then that ending. Oh my god. Just. Dumbledore. And them fleeing. And we don’t know what happens. And just! I mean, we do, in that I’m sure this slipslides its way into canon and we can extrapolate from there. But how they fix this immediate threat before moving on to the next? But I sort of love that about it. I mean, war is tripping between moments of calm and panic anyway, and this managed to deliver on that front perfectly. The entire thing had that hazy dreamlike quality to it anyway, so that the tension was far more palpable when it hit, because it had been thrumming just out of sight the entire time anyway. That flicker just at the edge of your vision that you can’t quite resolve into something solid until there it is.
This was an incredible read. Amazing, wonderful job.