pheobe bridgers and him go together like wights n hollowghast. this is just kinda mindless writing about how i think he might have been affected by everything that happened in the books cuz hello all of that should be traumatizing ( or maybe i just see things as worse than they were lolol)
also this boy. this lovely little boy. he makes me so sad.//" Its so hard, and it's cold here."
Some of us are born waiting for an end that might never come.
Every step you take, every breath you inhale, every word that leaves your lips, might change the world for the better or end it all the same. I am walking a wire between past and present, watching ever so helplessly as time marches on into tomorrow without a care for yesterday.
Yesterday feels like so long ago already.
Yesterday, when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
Yesterday, which is already so long gone.
I do think I was happy yesterday. I can't help but wonder what changed.I see storms where there are none.
I see thunder rolling over the hills, I see rotting hands peeling off gravestones, I see possibilities in each moment that passes. I see the future in every little thing.
I saw the lives of the wights I've seen dead. I've seen the beauty and the horror and the shame of the past. I've seen the uncertainty of the future, of its countless paths and its endless choices.
I know the death I've seen was necessary.
I know the wights wanted us dead. That they would have killed us first.
But that doesn't change how their blood smelt like rust. It doesn't change how the thick crimson stained the earth. It doesn't change the brutality of their departures.
I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel about all the blood that's been spilled.Maybe I'm not supposed to feel anything at all.
My birthday isn't long off.
March seems so far away, a cloud on the horizon, a hope I didn't know I had. It's a star, bright and endless, in the dead center of a sky blacked out by smoke. Perhaps it's the moon. Perhaps it's nothing at all.
Nevertheless, it'll never be enough.
I can't count how many times I've snuck out the godawful room I'm stuck sharing with Enoch to stare at that silver eye so many miles away, to sit on the shabby roof and watch it remain. That's what I like about the moon.
No matter what happens, no matter how much we loose or how much we gain, it's always there. It's unchanged. It's predictable.I'll be 84 on March 5th. Isn't that strange?
I'm not who I thought I would be. I've been counting the days, did you know? I've been counting the minutes. We've spent 40 days in Devils Acre. Cairnholm has belonged to us for 37 days. There are 55 days until my birthday. Yesterday, Olive turned 76. In May, Hugh will be 88.
I will be 84.
I should be dead, yet I'm not, and soon, I will be 84.All it takes is a few more tomorrows.
A few more forgotten yesterdays.The future is unpredictable, but it's full of hope, too.
Hope I get to see beforehand. Hope I can wait for.
So I can wonder, and watch the moon from this shabby roof, even if it isn't really home anymore. Even if Cairnholm is just the same as it always was. Even if the Acre isn't mine and I am not its.
I didn't think I'd ever find comfort in a place so... disgusting.
But I do.
I like its hum of activity, its dusty silhouette, its disorder. I like its moon.
I'll go home, of course. I always do.But it's warm here, and they can wait a little longer.

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Once, there was an island.... // MPHFPC one shots, imagines, and misc !
Fanfiction//ONGOING!// 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹, 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱, MPHFPC oneshots, AUs, arts, and scattered imagines, based off the book series rather than the movie (though im open to movie content!!) Requests ope...