Hamlet to Horatio in The Lunatic, the Lover, and the Poet by Myrlin A. Hermes
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gothaggecore
gothaggecorehamratio for the ship meme??
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hotcassavetessummer
who wakes up first in the morning? horatio is definitely a morning person and gets up to make breakfast for hamlet despite never eating breakfast himself
who’s the first to fall asleep at night? horatio seems to always be tired and passes out around 8:30PM leaving hamlet the night owl to pull all-nighters writing papers he put off to the night before they’re due
what do they playfully tease each other over? horatio teases hamlet constantly for being emo trash
what they do when the other’s having a bad day? when horatio’s having a bad day he likes to color to destress so he and hamlet have a collection of fun coloring books that they can pull out. when hamlet’s having a bad day they take walks around elsinore or go to museums when they can
how do they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments? they don’t really argue but when it happens apologies are usually immediate and sincere
which one’s more ticklish? H A M L E T
what are their favourite rainy day activities? playing board games (especially scrabble), coloring, watching old movies (especially silent films), going to museums and libraries
how do they surprise each other? hamlet will notice there’s a new restaurant open or new museum exhibit and surprise horatio by taking him out. horatio doesn’t really have the money to do that sort of thing so he’ll buy or make smaller gifts for hamlet or cook favourite meals or plan movie nights in
what are their most sappy shows of public affection? cheek kisses and hand holding
107 notesReblogged at 05:13am, 05/31/17
| Via: hotcassavetessummer |
it’s funny that hamlet says ‘the rest is silence’ and then horatio says ‘flights of angels sing thee to thy rest’
it’s like hamlet has thought about death so long and so hard that he’s stripped all its imagery, all its mystique. there’s nothing romantic or tragic or good or bad about dying. it just is. it’s happening to him, and he’s a little relieved and a little regretful, but it is what it is, it’s silence, and if it’s no more than that than at least it’s no less. he’s dying, and that’s all there is to say. for once, he has nothing more to say
horatio can’t have the same almost nihilistic view of death. as hamlet dies he seems to rise above it all, it doesn’t matter any more. horatio doesn’t get this luxury. he can’t look down at death and say that it just is, that it’s just silence. for hamlet, death is just darkness and silence, it’s just cessation. for horatio, death is his best friend, his love, his whole world, coughing and shuddering in his arms and then going still, going silent, going cold. while hamlet is the neutrality of knowing acceptance, horatio is pain and passion and grief and love, and he can’t just let it be silent, neutral. he needs to make it beautiful and poignant, meaningful and holy. he doesn’t need silence. he needs the bells of heaven to ring
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