It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia S06E03

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@sectumscmpra
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia S06E03

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— HARRIS PURKISS’ GRAVE, with doris purkiss @beenhexed
the war was supposedly over. voldemort dead, a great deal of his followers also dead or imprisoned. they should be overjoyed, that the light outshone the darkness. but as richard stands in front of a grave he hoped he wouldn’t see for years to come, he can’t help but feel like this victory is pyrrhic. the order had faced too many losses already, in this year alone they’d lost countless to the siege, then the awful business with the potters and the child that was left behind. for years richie has carried the weight of the order’s trauma on his back akin to the muggle legend of atlas. richie would carry their weight even if it meant forgetting his own, he would tell himself someone will need me whether i am grieving or not. and he would continue. when the fear of losing hestia became all too much, he let her go in order to remain functional. the cost was debilitating but it was necessary, he would tell himself, over and over until he believed it.
he wasn’t entirely sure doris would get his letter in time ( more of a scribbled note than a letter ). he’d lazily scrawled that he planned to change the flowers at dad’s grave and that if she came with him, he’d buy her lunch at her favourite place in london. what he’d opted to leave out was the fact that he could sleep, that he knows something was wrong about the ‘accident’. that or he’s finally let delusions in. when she comes into view, there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. the flowers are already changed, fresh sunflowers rest neatly against the headstone. “nice to know you’re not ignoring my letters.” his tone indicates a tired form of humor, arms opening up to embrace her as walks within reach. “i’m glad you came.”

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THE O.C. | 3x19 “The Secrets and Lies”
seventeen days, she’d done the maths some hours earlier. dorcas had been gone for seventeen days, no tracks to follow. it felt simultaneously like just a weekend and half a year. a loud song played in her mind, leading her to forget again and again that she was sitting on the floor next to nick’s front door - the mix of concoctions, mostly magical, half of which she could not recall anymore, certainly did not help. her disappearances weren’t unusual, but they were often shorter, at least when it came to HIM. they were often rejuvenating, just an escape ( what happens in manchester stays in manchester ). yet, for a few months already, she’d been taking longer to reappear, and rarely returned in her best of states. those who could often follow her were more often left behind, just as clueless as the rest. her hidden life was muddled with dorcas meadowes, order member, ministry worker, not the pale figure on the floor leaning her head on the door like a stray dog. why here? the more she needed to run, the less she appeared at his house, the less she tried to need him. the song kept getting louder whenever she tried to piece together her way to his building or the internal reasoning for it. the bass covered up the steps going up the floor. the drums how fast her heart was beating, painfully almost. her eyes were fixed on her backpack, secure between her knees. // @sectumscmpra
she’s slipping and it’s a thought that stains his mind no matter how much booze he uses to scrub it away. this lack of control is sickeningly familiar. a chain around his neck that’s liable to tighten and loosen as it pleases. maybe it’s because dorcas is frighteningly close to daiyu in age and demeanor, both girls fighting ( fought ) violence and injustice that nik can’t ( couldn’t ) protect them from. in the year leading up to daiyu’s death, she distanced herself, stopped replying to letters for weeks, didn’t show up in their usual havens. and then she was gone. without a goodbye, without knowing of the funeral until weeks later. nik fears the same fate will fall upon the girl he’d welcomed into his home.
a possibly excessive amount of charms are set up around the apartment, one to ward off muggles, another to reinforce the walls but possibly the most important, is the incantation that gives his wand a gentle yet noticeable shake when someone or something walks up to the highest level of the apartment block. nik readies himself for an attack, deadly and ANCIENT curses on the tip of his tongue. but when he swings open the door, there is no threat on the other side. instead, a sad looking ghost of a girl sits on his doorstep. “dorcas. merlin.” lowering his wand in an instant, his shoulders drop from their defensive stance, sucking in a labored breath. he opens his mouth to demand where she’s been, ask her what she thinks she’s playing at with her increasingly worrying disappearing acts. he thinks of daiyu again, how he wishes he’d been more understanding and instead settles on a different line of questioning. “coffee?”
Knives Out (2019) dir. Rian Johnson