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i just re-read ena4 (knowing the unseen) as part of my research for my fic and fucking cried my eyes out im inconsolable... emotionally devasted in good way

#i was a complete mess for the last two chapters help #god............#ramble

btw if elzar and/or avar die in the final book, and there’s any dialogue/internal monologue even remotely close to ‘i get to be with stellan again’ or about their constellation being complete once more, i’m simply going to die. like i will pass away, that’ll be the end of me, goodbye goodnight charles soule you WILL be paying for my funeral

#like i don’t want it. but if one or both of them dies i actually do want something like this #and if neither of them die then please give me stellan force vision i beg #god............#elzar mann #avar kriss #the high republic

"Has there ever been a creature so alone?"

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“That it was a difficult birth there can be no doubt. I was born in sheer, terrified agony. But surely this was not the Protean man you'd envisioned. This was not a golden triumph over mortality, the lyrical Adonais, of which Shelley wrote. This was abomination. And so you fled... The first human action that I experienced was rejection. So do not wonder at my loathing of your species. I waited. But you did not return. Has there ever been a creature so alone? So utterly helpless? Was every new-born creature abandoned the moment they were born? Was this what life was? That upstairs window became my salvation and my tutor. I learned how people were. What the people of the village valued and what despised. How animals were treated. There was no doubt in my mind that I was an animal. How could there be a doubt? Was it not a countenance made for predation? Eventually I learned words. Your beloved volumes of poetry were my primers. From your penciled notations I learned that you favored Wordsworth and the old Romantics. No wonder you fled from me. I am not a creation of the antique pastoral world. I am modernity personified. Did you not know that's what you were creating? The modern age. Did you really imagine that your modern creation would hold to the values of Keats and Wordsworth? We are men of iron and mechanization now. We are steam engines and turbines. Were you really so naive to imagine that we'd see eternity in a daffodil? Who is the child, Frankenstein, thee or me? You ran from me once. Never again. We are the Janus mask. Inseparable.”

#god............#i would seek you even unto the maelstrom of the blackest tempest of the darkest night #rory kinnear theatre king #frankenstein #penny dreadful #my upload