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fargo + textposts (3/∞)

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fargo + textposts (3/∞)
fadda family
fargo + textposts (2/∞)
ekleipsis ||| rated e ||| 31.8k ||| for the solstice
"Want to take it back, yet?" Calamita asks, and his eyes shine in the dusk. Rabbi hates him for a moment, the way that it's easy to hate anyone who has become so intimately acquainted with both body and mind and knows how to use both as a weapon, but he'd hate him more if Rabbi didn't know that he does the exact same thing right back and that's why they're in this predicament at all.
"Have you ever regretted killing someone?" He asks, because he still feels he knows very little about him other than the blurry outlines of his past and the occasional memory. Calamita clicks his tongue and sits forward in the seat again.
"Perhaps tonight is the night." He says, but doesn't sound like he believes it.
(Curses run deeper than words on the surface. Sensing emotion and reading thought are one thing, being undead is another.)
read on archive of our own
rabbi milligan, loss, memory, & time
a prose web weave using pieces of the stunning goldilocks' mirror by @gerhardtz; happy birthday wen!!
unknown // goldilocks’ mirror chapter one // caravaggio // donte collins // goldilocks’ mirror chapter two // anselm feuerbach // goldilocks’ mirror chapter three // king lear, shakespeare // goldilocks’ mirror chapter four // francisco de zurbarán // goldilocks’ mirror chapter five // fargo s4 e1: welcome to the alternate economy
fargo + textposts (1/∞)
SPLIT OPEN IN THE ROAD || RATED E || 19.2K
for the @hifargoweek sunday prompt: backstories
He looked like a vision, like a painting; the lights outside and the cherry of the cigarette served as a frame. Downstairs, Calamita could hear people laughing. Rabbi watched him with the same too big eyes before turning away and blinking, rapid, against the smoke.
“Josto told me your first memory was of killing someone.” He said, in the direction of the door, before finding Calamita again. The corners of his mouth were pulled downwards, though it was an expression he wore often. “That’s not true either.”
(Constant Calamita and Rabbi Milligan from 1939 to 1944. A study of cigarettes, the past, and signatures.)
read on archive of our own
CONSTANT CALAMITA, HUMANITY, & BURNING
from dusk till dawn // fargo // jeff vandermeer // schuyler peck // disco elysium
FACEDOWN IN THE CENTER OF A LAKE || RATED M || 12.4K
for the @hifargoweek tuesday prompt: rarepairs
Years and years ago, and after the death of his father, Ebal Violante had said that he’d cut off the head of the hydra. Rabbi wondered if the two that had grown back were memories.
Before falling asleep, his last thought was of Calamita. Maybe because the other was a heavy warmth next to him, and he thought about sharing cigarettes and stakeouts and conversations and secrets.
It was a game, anyways, but it was never just that.
(Rabbi Milligan and Constant Calamita from 1945 to 1949. An examination of loyalty, complications, and games that never end.)
read on archive of our own