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The setting changes, but the song is always the same.
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SUDHSJDHHSHDHS THE MEADOW
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a masterpiece
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love of my very dear life
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i’m crying about osamu :(
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i dont know why, even after constant reminders that they met in the meadow, it never struck me that the man dying was actually sakusa. and when it did, gosh when it did. that scene was just, written so goddamn exquisitely. a beautifully tragic fic.
the way she writes, GOSH. i want to tear apart her brain; set up a futon; sew it back; live there; and be forever fascinated by her writing. how does she do it? how does a human even come up with stuff like this?>> I feel like I set out to write a story for people who like vampires, about vampires, and instead accidentally wrote a story /for/ vampires, but I have no regrets.
this author's comment perfectly describes it. struggles of immortality, of ethics and morals, of watching your twin die and leaving behind loved ones, of never being able to settle, of sleepless nights not because you cant but because you _cant_, of loneliness in this vast world where youre not understood.“I don’t want to live forever, and I don’t intend to, but a decade or two—a lifetime or two—in a shingle-roof house full of gold-rimmed teacups doesn’t sound so bad so long as I get to share it with you, I believe that, before we grow tired of each other and drive each other crazy, we could even—shut up—be happy together. And one day, once we have grown tired of each other, or once all the icebergs have melted, or once all the best neighborhoods have been utterly gentrified, or once all our favorite lakes have become meadows, after we’ve said all that there is to say to each other, maybe we could tear each other’s hearts out on the count of three.”
the greatest love confession ever. this, is what love means. -
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prose as purple as it gets, and I ATE IT UP