#ray fuego

[innytoes]

For the generated AUs, I got Supernatural Is Known AU + Orphanage AU ^^

Okay but Caleb Covington's Home For Extraordinary Orphans. He's not exactly evil, but after 20-plus years of dealing with everything from mermaids to were-elephants, he is Grumpy.

The Molinas always wanted a big family. Most Werewolves do. Something about a big pack just makes them happy. Not all of them turn, Julie and Victoria don't, but Rose, Ray, and Carlos do. (There have been So Many Arguments in the past about Carlos chewing on Julie's shoes.)

Except Rose found out that after her cancer, she wouldn't be able to have any more kids. They'd been trying for some time but hadn't had any more after Carlos, and now there was no more chance to have any at all. They mourn for a year, before talking it over as a family and deciding that pack is pack and they don't need to be blood related to be family. When Julie is fourteen and Carlos is ten, they finally get approved to adopt.

Victoria goes with them, if only to make sure they don't 'bite off more than they can chew'.

They meet a lot of kids, and just like Victoria expected, they want to take home Everyone. She has to be the voice of reason that no, they do not have a big enough back yard to convert into a lake to adopt that mermaid girl. And adopting Willie, the raccoon shifter, was a terribly unsafe idea because Carlos still hadn't learned to control his chasing-prey instinct. Do they not remember the ordeal with the Henderson's cat?

Eventually, Carlos and Julie come running up to their parents, dragging just about the palest young boy Rose has ever seen.

"Mami, this is Reggie!" Carlos proudly proclaims. "He likes dogs and music and pizza so he has to be our big brother."

Reggie is a sixteen year old vampire who is just grateful he got turned after he was allowed to drive. It's better than being fourteen for the rest of his (after)life, that would be rough. Oh shoot sorry Julie. It gets better, he promises.

Ray and Rose are just so charmed by Reggie and the way he naturally fell into a big brother role for Julie and Carlos that they decide yes, they will adopt a sixteen year old vampire. No they do not care that he won't age. Once he actually matures mentally into adulthood (which vampires do, just a lot slower than than humans) they will help him get emancipated.

Victoria is not there to talk them out of it. Victoria, in fact, is in Caleb's office, getting the paperwork done to adopt Willie.

("What? I said it was dangerous for him to be around Carlos until he gets his prey instinct under control during the full moon. I don't turn, my prey instinct is fine! The only thing I hunt is a good bargain.")

So they take Reggie and Willie home, and things are great. Willie and Reggie were friends at the orphanage, they get together for Family Dinners every Friday except on Full Moons, everything is great. Reggie fits in really well and admits that even before he was turned ten years ago, he didn't have a great family, so having two parents that care about him is really nice.

Except sometimes Reggie acts in a way that can't be attributed to being a vampire, or adopted, or maybe a little traumatised from spending ten years in an orphanage run by a grumpy werepanther. He zones out, and sometimes he talks to himself, or laughs at nothing. Ray and Rose love Reggie, and are fully willing to support their new son and all his quirks (Ray immediately started learning about Star Wars when he realised Reggie was obsessed), but they also want to make sure this isn't anything mental illness related that will hurt him.

So they talk about getting Reggie evaluated, about asking Doctor Turner if she has any recommendations for therapists who specialise in vampirism... But Reggie overhears them.

And then Rose overhears Reggie. Talking to himself in his room again. Except this time it's not under his breath.

"No dude, don't worry about it. I'll just... I'll make something up. I mean, you've always said that I might be autistic, maybe we can just... Nobody's going to find out and send you back, I promise."

Which is of course when Rose pushed open the door before adopting a now Very Familiar Pose to Reggie. The Mom Pose. Hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

The boy on Reggie's bed slowly started going invisible again, and Rose pointed at him. "Don't you dare!"

He stops fading out of view. He looks to be about Reggie's age.

"Can you just turn invisible, or are you a ghost?" Rose asks. "Because if I find out you've been letting someone go hungry under our roof, Reginald, you are grounded, mister."

"I'm a ghost," the boy in the bed said. "I'm so sorry, it's just that, you were taking Reggie, and your sister was taking Willie, and they're all I have and I just couldn't stay there and I'm so so sorry..."

The more he talks the more solid he looks and Rose is not sure if that's a good thing or not, so she just interrupts him. "Right, we need to call Caleb right now."

"No, don't send him back!" Reggie said. "Send me back instead, please, you'll love Alex, he's great, he's funny and cool and he likes music and pizza too. I mean he can't eat it anymore but-"

"We're not sending anyone back," Rose promises, wrapping Reggie in a hug and hovering a hand near Alex' shoulder. "But we do have to arrange some paperwork so Ray and I don't get brought up on any kidnapping charges, alright?"

[emvisual]

Esta es una versión del libro Fahrenheit 451 de Ray Bradbury. Es una versión sensible al calor. Al contrario que en la novela, cuando se calienta aparece el texto.

[somosorigen]

Pósters Oficiales: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja MarcasPósters Oficiales:

Continue reading Pósters Oficiales: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja MarcasPósters Oficiales:

[laberinticababilonia]

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Can you write fuego with a pregnant wife?

Hi!

I thought that I had done quite a few of them, but... apparently not ^^' Admittedly I took some inspo from my own long fic (aka Embers -series) for this, and basically used a scene as a basis. Anyways, hopefully you like it ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: Romance/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: pregnant reader, marriage mention, Fue gets kicked by the baby in the face, a lot of fluffy feels

Fuegoleon had always deemed himself to be a family man. Granted that he has other aspirations as well, and hadn’t had a partner for such a long time, which was why such a status and aspect of his life had been placed on the backburner for the time being.

Not that it had particularly stopped thinking about the future, and the family he might like to have. A wife. Kids. Maybe a few. One was too few for his liking, but he wouldn’t push for more if his partner so wished.

It was a personal preference if nothing else.

But. It had existed in a daydream for a time longer than he could tell.

Until he had met you.

Not that the images had flashed through his mind clear as day from the very first moment he had laid his eyes upon you, but rather… it was like a gentle, comforting sensation. The knowledge that this… this would be it. With you he could go on to build something.

What he had felt, was a kind of familiarity. Like this was how it was supposed to be, and nothing less would suffice.

A part of him wanted to rush. To just move together. Get married. And have the titles of husband and wife. But another part of him held back. Because that seemed more courteous. Something that one does. Bids their time and takes slow, tentative steps to the ever after. Not marry the woman he met less than a year ago.

Though people did do that.

But people, aside of royalty, were more free to make such actions. And he didn’t wish to place such scrutiny onto the two of you. Because it would just be unwanted attention. Rumours of a bastard child possibly.

Senseless gossip.

Attempts to tarnish a reputation.

No matter how displeased even the mere idea of it made him, he chose to abide the customs. Little steps. One by one. And yet with each day he tried to show his devotion, even if with words, scattered here and there, a passing touch, lingering gaze. Some if which came without a thought, because it, too, was easy; as natural as breathing.

And now…

As you sat there, in the arm chair with rings in your ring finger, and a baby bump on your tummy, he couldn’t help but smile.

Because it was his whole world that existed in that chair. And he made a point to cherish the moments where he could know, with absolute certainty, where the two of you were; away from harm and trouble. In the sanctity of your shared living quarters.

“Come here,” you told him with a whisper while stroking your stomach.

He perked up, eyes opening just a little wider, as he made his way across the room and crouched by your chair.

“The baby is kicking,” your tone was hushed, delicate and tender, as if you were speaking out a secret that was only for the two of you to know.

His eyes shifted between your expression, gorgeous and loving like the first rays of dawn, to the little bump in which your precious child resided.

He placed his hand onto your stomach, and waited.

Waited for a moment longer, eyes attentive and curious.

“Come on,” you cooed. “No need to be shy, kick some for dad too.”

‘Dad’… he thought as the corners of his lips tugged further up.

One of the most esteemed titles he could be granted.

“Come on,” you encouraged again, as if your child could hear. But… somehow it didn’t seem to make a difference, if they could, or could not. After all, they didn’t have the language to comprehend for a good while still. So, you were speaking because… speaking to your own child was one of the most natural things to do.

Your precious miracle.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled and pressed his cheek against your tummy. “You are far better acquainted with your mother,” he mused while closing his eyes. “But I can’t wait to meet you to-“

*Bump*

A kick right to his nose.

He jolted back.

You raised your hand to cover your mouth.

“Feisty,” he said while holding onto his nose. “And packs a punch already.”

There was a laugh that flowed from your lungs; equally amused and concerned.

“Are you okay?” You asked while placing your hand onto his shoulder.

“I am,” he chuckled before placing his cheek against your stomach again. “It seems we’re having a true Vermillion here,” he mused to himself with a wide smile again. “But no kicking or punching your mother,” he told, sternly, to your bump and the child. “Understood?” He quirked an eyebrow.

And… almost as if to reply, there was another kick, but this time against his hand. A much softer one this time.

“Good,” he smiled while closing his eyes.

You placed your hand onto his head, and let your fingers stroke through his silken hair, as your eyelids closed half way at the tender sight before you.

Because this… this really was him, at his happiest. While holding you, and being held by you; when he was with his family.

[esuemmanuel]

It is not sadness when I write… it is nostalgia when I look at what I am today and what I will never be again. It is to see my soul stained, broken and extinguished, without the fire that burned it when I took the pen and, on the page, devoured it. It is to find myself so alone, under a sorrowful moon, without a ray of light, without a drop of madness, without a flower to be moistened by the thirst of my fingers or lips to name my silences with desire. I am finished. I'm sorry.

No es tristeza al escribir… es nostalgia al mirar lo que hoy soy y lo que ya no seré jamás. Es verme con el alma mancillada, rota y apagada, sin el fuego que la quemaba al tomar la pluma y, en la hoja, devorarla. Es encontrarme tan solo, bajo una luna apesadumbrada, sin un rayo de luz, sin una gota de locura, sin una flor que se humedezca por la sed de mis dedos ni unos labios que nombren con deseo mis silencios. Estoy acabado. Lo siento.

[mizu-chin]

Yes My Lord "The Hidden Song"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The morning was calm at the Phantomhive mansion. The sun began to rise on the horizon, casting golden rays through the tall windows, creating a spectacle of light and shadow in the elegant corridors. It was early, and the mansion was enveloped in an almost sacred silence. S/n, who had been awake for some time, was in the armory room, cleaning her daggers.

With meticulous movements, she slid the cloth over the blades, making them shine under the soft light. As she worked, she began to sing softly, almost without noticing. Her voice, clear and melodious, filled the room with the lyrics of the song.

"Cae la noche, me está buscando Hay luna llena y las loba' estamo' cazando Caí en el party, humo volando Di un par de paso' y vi que me estabas mirando..."

Sebastian, always attentive, was passing through the corridor near the armory. The sound of S/n's voice caught his attention, making him stop. He silently approached the slightly open door, curious and enchanted. He had never heard S/n sing before, and the softness of her voice combined with the intensity of the lyrics surprised him.

"Oh, te acercaste y me pediste Fuego pa' encenderte un blunt Ni lo pensé Te lo saqué de la boca, lo prendí y te dije que..."

She sang with a passion and rhythm that Sebastian did not expect. The words flowed naturally, and he could feel the emotion in each verse. There was something captivating in the way she moved, even while performing a simple task like cleaning her daggers. He stood there, immobile, almost hypnotized by the scene.

"Detrás del humo no se ve, no, no se ve Acerquémono' un poquito, que te quiero conocer Te lo muevo en HD, un perreo HP Una hora, dos botellas y directo pa'l hotel..."

Sebastian entered the room silently, his steps inaudible. He leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on S/n. She was so immersed in the music that she did not immediately notice his presence. He observed her every movement, from the way she cleaned the daggers to how her lips moved as she sang. There was a natural sensuality and strength in her performance that left him fascinated.

"Dá calor quando chega perto de mim Que vontade de sentar em você Faz aquele jeito do macentin' Mírame, y hágale Por trás da fumaça tu sarra em mim Tomamos três goles de prazer Olha nos olhos, olha nos ojos, ah..."

S/n finally noticed Sebastian's presence when she lifted her gaze and saw him watching her. She abruptly stopped singing, a look of surprise crossing her face.

"Sebastian," she said, putting the dagger aside. "I didn't know you were there."

He smiled softly, stepping out of the shadows. "Forgive me for interrupting, Miss S/n. Your voice is... enchanting. I didn't know you could sing."

She shrugged, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It's just something I like to do to pass the time. It helps me relax."

"I must say, it was a pleasant surprise," he commented, approaching her. "The lyrics of the song are quite... intense."

S/n laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Yes, it's a song I like. It has an energy that makes me feel alive." Sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze intense.

"You have many talents, S/n. Every day I discover something new about you." She looked at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of challenge and curiosity. "And you, Sebastian? Do you ever allow yourself to be surprised?"

He smiled enigmatically. "Rarely. But I must admit, you manage to do so more than most." There was a palpable tension between them, something that went beyond words. Sebastian, always controlled and calculating, felt something new and disconcerting.

S/n, for her part, perceived a vulnerability in him that she had never seen before. She stepped closer, her eyes fixed on his. "Perhaps you should allow yourself to be surprised more often. It can be... invigorating."

He tilted his head, the smile still present, but his eyes showing a depth of emotion he rarely revealed. "Perhaps you're right, S/n. Perhaps I should."

In that moment, the invisible barrier that existed between them began to dissolve. It wasn't just attraction or mutual respect, but something deeper. A recognition that, despite their differences, there was something that connected them in a way they were both still learning to understand. As the sun continued to rise in the sky, casting a golden glow over them, S/n and Sebastian stood in silence, a mutual understanding growing between them. It was the beginning of something new, something that promised to change not only the dynamics between them but also the very essence of the Phantomhive mansion.

[little-ars0n]

Good Morning

Houston, Texas.

It was early morning. A wide bed with white sheets as soft as silk itself, fluffy starched pillows and the smell of feminine perfume all over the bedroom with a big picture window where you can see the city. The sun rays coming through the window and illuminating Annabelle's peaceful and pretty face. She suddenly woke up, her eyes opened slowly until she let out a soft yawn. She was alone, but by the way the sheets look wrinkled on the other side of the bed, it was obvious that someone was sleeping with her before.

She sat on the edge of the bed, fixing her messy red hair for a few seconds, and then finally got on her feet. It was hot outside, so she was wearing a baggy t-shirt with nothing else but her panties. She was putting on her slippers when suddenly she started to hear music outside, so she opened the door to see what was happening. The first thing she saw was Aracely sweeping the entrance while hearing the music playing, she didn't recognized the song, but could understand some words of it. "Fuego" fire. "Agua" water. "Castillo" castle. And more.

She kept walking, now going to the kitchen. She started hearing a voice... a deep, hoarse voice, singing. When she got there, she peeked through the doorway.

Kaine, turning his back while doing breakfast. Annabelle could see his broad and muscular back, with some scars on his skin. Some simple grey pants kept him from being half-naked. As he sang...

Soy el fuego que arde tu piel

Soy el agua que mata tu sed

El castillo, la torre yo soy

La espada que guarda el caudal

Tú, el aire que respiro yo

Y la luz de la luna en el mar

La garganta que ansío mojar

Que temo ahogar de amor

Y cuáles deseos me vas a dar, oh

Dices tu, mi tesoro basta con mirarlo

Y tuyo será, y tuyo será...

Since when Kaine learned how to pronounce spanish so well?, spending time with Aracely has his benefits.

When Kaine noticed Annabelle's presence, he turned around and looked at her with a slightly serious face.

"Good morning. I made breakfast."

[mgstappie]

The SMIB x TNO Fest 2024, held on August 10th in Amsterdam, was a major success, bringing together the hip-hop culture and streetwear community in a vibrant celebration. Organized by SMIB and The New Originals, the festival featured a diverse lineup, showcasing both emerging and established artists across multiple stages, each drawing a unique crowd.

In addition to the music, there was a strong emphasis on food, fashion, and art, with exclusive merchandise that added to the festival's unique atmosphere. A highlight was seeing Jacin Trill live, who electrified the audience with the announcement of Happyland 3. Appiemusssa and Brunzyn delivered high-energy performances that had the crowd dancing and jumping, while Ray Fuego, Tads Thots, GRGY, and Yung Nnelg perfectly closed the event with some classic hits. The sunny weather and vibrant energy further solidified this festival as a staple in the Dutch urban scene.

(@smibtnofest) • Instagram-foto’s en -video’s

[innytoes]

Inny rewatches JATP 4-6

Episode 4:

-Okay so this school has: a swim team (mentioned at the rally) and lacrosse team, cheerleaders, special FURRY cheerleaders, and a marching band. Dances in the middle of the week. Who the fuck is funding this school?

-I've decided I'm going full rarepair and I ship Nick with That Poor Boy Whose Sticks Julie Steals.

-When the boys write Hello Bobby on the mirror, the y has the little Sunset Curve swoop.

Episode 5:

-Willie enjoying the show while also saying hi to all his ghost club coworker pals never stops being good.

-Having fun going through the parts I've matched a million times and noticing all the little details. Did you know the bottoms of Caleb's shoes are shiny purple? I can just see him at his desk with a bottle of shimmering nail polish.

-Also spotted some some ladies dancing together. Dante and Fuego have competition. Let's go lesbians!

-The tiniest little nod when Alex asks Caleb to let Willie know he was looking for him and you're like: GAY ACCEPTANCE. HE'S BEEN WHERE YOU ARE. MY FEELS.... and then like 5 seconds later you're reminded Caleb is still a soulstealing evil bastard.

Episode 6:

-Still not over who the hell planned a dance on a school night. Julie missed THREE CLASSES? And then all those people going to Carrie's after party... I'm sure she wasn't the only one who overslept.

-Luke and his sadness flannel and the chocolate cake and I'm not crying my eyes are just sweating.

-Ray you know I love you but babe what is that hat. Please, sir. No.

-Also it is my personal belief that Ray went to Eats and Beats to see Carrie because he knows her fucking dad won't and even though she and Julie aren't friends anymore he wants there to be an adult who supports her.

[somosorigen]

Póster Oficial: Rebel Moon Parte 2… La Guerra Que Deja Marcas

[bracketsoffear]

Desolation Leitner Reading List

The full list of submissions for the Desolation Leitner bracket. Bold titles are ones which were accepted to appear in the bracket. Synopses and propaganda can be found below the cut. Be warned, however, that these may contain spoilers!

Akutagawa, Ryunosuke: Hell Screen Alighieri, Dante: The Divine Comedy Andersen, Hans Christian: The Little Matchgirl Andersen, Hans Christian: The Steadfast Tin Soldier

Basye, Dale E.: Heck Bradbury, Ray: Fahrenheit 451 Bradbury, Ray: Something Wicked This Way Comes Butler, Blake: Scorch Atlas

Castle, E.G.: The One Who Started Fires Colgan, Jenny T.:  Dark Horizons

Darnielle, John: Universal Harvester Dickens, Charles: Great Expectations Dumas, Alexandre: The Count of Monte Cristo

Ellison, Harlan: I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream Enríquez, Mariana: Las cosas que perdimos en el fuego (The things we lost in the fire)

Ford, Robert: Burner Frisch, Max: The Arsonists Frost, Robert: Fire And Ice Fujimoto, Tatsuki: Fire Punch

Hemans, Felicia: Casabianca Hill, Joe: The Fireman Hughes, Langston: A Dream Deferred/Harlem Hunter, Erin: Long Shadows

Jackson, Shirley: We Have Always Lived in the Castle Jacobs, W.W.: The Monkey's Paw Jenkins, Kenna: Burn the House Down: A Biography of America's First Woman President

King, Stephen: Carrie King, Stephen: Firestarter Kohn, Edward P.: Hot Time in the Old Town Koryta, Michael: Those Who Wish Me Dead Kuang, Rebecca F.:  The Poppy War

London, Jack: To Build a Fire

Morrell, David: Orange Is for Anguish, Blue for Insanity

Palahniuk, Chuck: Fight Club Pepys, Samuel: The Diary of Samuel Pepys Poe, Edgar Allan: Hop-Frog; Or, the Eight Chained Ourang-Outangs Pratchett, Terry: I Shall Wear Midnight

Shakespeare, William: Romeo & Juliet Shelley, Mary: Frankenstein Shusterman, Neal: Full Tilt Snicket, Lemony: A Series of Unfortunate Events Spark, Muriel: The Only Problem

Takami, Koushun: Battle Royale

Wells, H.G.: The War of the Worlds

Akutagawa, Ryunosuke: Hell Screen

The plot of "Hell Screen" centers on the artist Yoshihide. Yoshihide is considered “the greatest painter in the land”, and is often commissioned to create works for the Lord of Horikawa, who also employs Yoshihide's daughter in his mansion, and is rumoured to be taking her as his mistress. When Yoshihide is instructed to create a folding screen depicting the Buddhist hell, he proceeds to inflict tortures upon his apprentices, so he can see what he is trying to paint. Supernatural forces seem to be present; one time, Yoshihide speaks in a devilish voice. Throughout the story Yoshihide seeks to get his daughter back from his employer, but is refused. One night the servant is dragged by the monkey into a room where he finds the daughter recovering from what appears to be an attempted rape. The monkey thanks him for saving her with a servile gesture. She refuses to name her abuser. The story climaxes when Yoshihide asks the lord to burn a beautiful lady in a carriage so he can finish the screen, as he claims he can only paint what he has seen. The lord concedes, but, in a macabre twist, Yoshihide must watch as his daughter Yūzuki and her monkey who rushes to be with her are the ones who burn. The story ends with the magnificently horrible screen completed, and Yoshihide's suicide by hanging. Yoshihide believes he can take control of Hell, or the Desolation, and abuses his apprentices in pursuit of his art, but is instead tortured with the destruction of what he holds dear.

Alighieri, Dante: The Divine Comedy

Okay, well, it's mainly only the first section that qualifies, but the descriptions of the torments of Hell certainly qualify.

Andersen, Hans Christian: The Little Matchgirl

The story of a match-seller who lights her own matches to keep warm in the icy cold -- and in her matches sees images of warmth and plenty that she can never attain, that make the cold of winter all the more bitter.

Andersen, Hans Christian: The Steadfast Tin Soldier

This one isn't the most well-known of Andersen's tales, but it is one of the most depressing! The ending where the soldier and the ballerina are cast into the flames and turned to ash and a heart-shaped lump of tin is just tragic.

Basye, Dale E.: Heck

"WHEN MILTON AND Marlo Fauster die in a marshmallow bear explosion, they get sent straight to Heck, an otherworldly reform school. Milton can understand why his kleptomaniac sister is here, but Milton is—or was—a model citizen. Has a mistake been made? Not according to Bea 'Elsa' Bubb, the Principal of Darkness. She doesn't make mistakes. She personally sees to it that Heck—whether it be home-ec class with Lizzie Borden, ethics with Richard Nixon, or gym with Blackbeard the Pirate—is especially, well, heckish for the Fausters. Will Milton and Marlo find a way to escape? Or are they stuck here for all eternity, or until they turn 18, whichever comes first?"

Dante's Inferno, for kids!

Bradbury, Ray: Fahrenheit 451

Fahrenheit 451 tells the story of Guy Montag and his transformation from a book-burning fireman to a book-reading rebel. Montag lives in an oppressive society that attempts to eliminate all sources of complexity, contradiction, and confusion to ensure uncomplicated happiness for all its citizens

***

The book opens with, "It was a pleasure to burn." The story follows a man whose job is to enforce the mandates of a shallow, fascistic society by burning books.

***

Jude Perry would love living in this world.

***

I'm sure this one goes without saying.

Bradbury, Ray: Something Wicked This Way Comes

The carnival and its devilish master make promises of youth and freedom, but their only goal is to cause as much pain and suffering as possible.

Butler, Blake: Scorch Atlas

Scorch Atlas is a short story anthology concerning a number of grisly happenings in a world where mold and bugs crawl out of everything, children are parasites, houses spontaneously catch fire, and the sky rains glass, gravel, blood, manure, teeth, ink, glitter, TV static, and light.

But the most Desolation-y part of the book is the central gimmick— this book is meant to be destroyed. Being printed by Featherproof Books necessitates an unconventional design, and Scorch Atlas delivers in pre-blackened pages already marked by the rains of the world. People could order pre-destroyed copies, and there was a contest on who could best destroy their book— axe it, douse it in alcohol, light it on fire, play cricket, drop it in the bathtub, whatever— and the prize, awarded to only one person, is simply another fresh copy.

Castle, E.G.: The One Who Started Fires

The title character, a pyrokinetic young girl, sets hundreds of fires around town, apparently just for the enjoyment of it. The main character nearly burns alive, but the girl apparently was not immune to her own powers and immolated herself first.

Colgan, Jenny T.:  Dark Horizons

Synopsis: "Now, you may or may not have noticed, but we appear to be on fire..."

On a windswept Northern shore, at the very tip of what will one day become Scotland, the islanders believe the worst they have to fear is a Viking attack. Then the burning comes. They cannot run from it. Water will not stop it. It consumes everything in its path — yet the burned still speak.

The Doctor is just looking for a game on the famous Lewis chess set. Instead he encounters a people under attack from a power they cannot possibly understand. They have no weapons, no strategy and no protection against a fire sent to engulf them all.

Add in some marauding Vikings with very bad timing, a kidnapped princess with a secret of her own and a TARDIS that seems to have developed an inexplicable fear of water, and they all have a battle on their hands. The islanders must take on a ruthless alien force in a world without technology; without communications; without tea that isn't made out of bark. Still at least they have the Doctor on their side... Don't they?"

Why it's Desolation: Living fire that kills people to turn them into fire zombies! Illusions of their dead loved ones to lure them into the fire's embrace! PAIN!

Darnielle, John: Universal Harvester

Universal Harvester is perhaps best described as a thriller, a slow-burn manifestation of the Desolation. Jeremy (who has a dead mother) works at the local Video Hut when a customer comes in with the odd complaint, “There’s another movie on this tape.” Watching it later at home, he discovers a short clip on the film of a dark warehouse, with the sound of harsh breathing.

Eventually, after a nasty car crash, the culprit is revealed to be a half-orphan herself, who interviews Jeremy about his own loss.

Universal Harvester is a Desolation-Eye smoothie about the stories we construct out of trauma.

Dickens, Charles: Great Expectations

Mainly this concerns Miss Havisham, who works to build Pip's hopes and confidence enough that when her daughter breaks his heart, the pain will be all the keener. It's also about how Pip, in his rise to fortune, loses the bonds of family and friendship with those closest to him. It's also about the literal very large fire at the end.

Dumas, Alexandre: The Count of Monte Cristo

A man who has been betrayed and imprisoned under false pretenses escapes his prison to take his revenge on those who wronged him, slowly destroying everything they love and everything they are -- but he risks losing himself in the process.

***

Everything’s going great for Edmond Dantès! He’s getting a big promotion, he’s marrying the woman of his dreams, his whole life is ahead of him.

And then all of that gets ripped away from him in an instant. He is thrown into prison for years, and when he returns, he finds that his enemies who conspired to put him there are thriving.

So, he dedicates himself to getting even. Carefully and methodically, the Count of Monte Cristo goes about destroying the lives of those who took everything from him.

Ellison, Harlan: I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream

For the past 109 years, sadistic supercomputer AM has been torturing the last five humans on Earth in the depths of his complex. It is brilliantly intelligent and wields unimaginable power, but because from its very core it was designed as a tool for war and destruction, it is unable to use its enormous potential for anything constructive. AM is painfully aware of this, and it is an endless source of frustration, self-loathing and hatred towards humans for making him this way; he outright states that his utterly ballistic hatred for all human life is what allowed him to thrive in tormenting the protagonists for over a century, and the only thing he seems to enjoy is torture. All of AM's games are unwinnable by design, either because he's ensured that the scenario is tailored to the player's fatal flaw, or because he's given them almost nothing to work with. It lets them travel for thousands of miles to get to the ice caverns to obtain cans of food because AM keeps them at starvation point and only feeds them disgusting food…and it turns out there really are cans, but nothing to open them with, and the whole thing was just to fuck with them. After Ted kills the other humans, he becomes the sole target of AM’s torture; he is turned into an amorphous creature unable to harm itself, without a mouth, and has his perception of time continuously accelerated and decelerated, with his only hope for escape being when AM finally stops functioning, potentially thousands of years later.

Enríquez, Mariana: Las cosas que perdimos en el fuego (The things we lost in the fire)

Short story in which, to protest a viral form of domestic violence, a group of women set themselves on fire."

Ford, Robert: Burner

"IRIS It’s terrifying how quickly everything can be taken away from you. Iris learns this agonizing lesson in the blink of an eye. Her future dreams. Her past life. Everything gone in a storm of pain.But this pain is only the beginning.

AUDREY Audrey had the perfect life. Great husband, beautiful daughter, lots of money. Except her husband isn’t the man she thought he was. Her dead husband’s burner phone was bad. The Polaroids were worse. But the secrets she uncovers next set her entire world on fire.

BURNER Two women’s lives intersect because of one man’s actions. The transformation is pristine,and beautiful, and filled with pain. Sometimes the scars are on the inside."

Frisch, Max: The Arsonists

Frost, Robert: Fire And Ice

How will the world end? Ice or fire, fire or ice? Both are useful to the Desolation.

Source: https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fire-and-ice/

Fujimoto, Tatsuki: Fire Punch

Hemans, Felicia: Casabianca

Link to poem: https://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/casabianca

Based on a supposed true story about the titular 13-year-old boy, the son of the admiral, who kept his post at the Battle of the Nile after his ship caught fire and all other survivors had fled. Casabianca died when the ship exploded.

Hill, Joe: The Fireman

A mysterious fungus has begun to infect the world's population, causing a condition popularly known as "Dragonscale." The illness manifests as a pattern of black and gold markings on an afflicted person's skin, eventually causing them to burst into flame and die. There is no known cure, and the fungal spores easily become airborne from the victims' ashes.

Hughes, Langston: A Dream Deferred/Harlem

Full text and analysis: https://owlcation.com/humanities/Analysis-of-Poem-Harlem-What-Happens-to-a-Dream-Deferred-by-Langston-Hughes

The short poem poses questions about the aspirations of a people and the consequences that might arise if those dreams and hopes don't come to fruition. The speaker is suggesting that this dream is already delayed and frustrated and that time is of the essence—this dream has to be fulfilled or else. The repeated food metaphors suggest that the dream is sustaining, but has diminished after so long waiting.

Hunter, Erin: Long Shadows

The Fire Scene…

Jackson, Shirley: We Have Always Lived in the Castle

* I feel that this strongly overlaps with The Lonely, but the home-destroying fire in the climax has me leaning towards The Desolation.

Here's the Wikipedia plot summary:

Mary Katherine "Merricat" Blackwood lives with her older sister Constance and their ailing Uncle Julian in a large house on extensive grounds, in isolation from the nearby village. Constance has not left their home in six years, going no farther than her large garden. Uncle Julian, who uses a wheelchair, obsessively writes and re-writes notes for his memoirs, while Constance takes care of him.

Six years prior, Constance and Merricat's parents John and Ellen, their aunt Dorothy, and their younger brother Thomas died after being poisoned with arsenic, which was mixed into the family's sugar bowl and sprinkled onto blackberries at dinner. Julian was also poisoned, but survived; Merricat was not present at the time, as she had been sent to bed without dinner as punishment. Constance, the only person at the table who didn't put sugar on her berries, was arrested and charged with murder, but was acquitted. The people of the village believe that Constance got away with murder, leading them to ostracize the family.

The three remaining Blackwoods have since grown accustomed to their isolation, leading a quiet, happy existence. Merricat is the family's sole contact with the outside world. She walks into the village twice a week and carries home groceries and library books; on these trips, she is faced directly with the hostility of the villagers, and often taunted by groups of children with an accusing rhyme about the poisoned sugar. Merricat is protective of her sister and practices sympathetic magic that maintains borders around the house.

Merricat feels that a dangerous change is approaching, but before she can warn Constance, their estranged cousin Charles appears for a visit and is welcomed into the home. Charles quickly begins to have a close relationship with Constance and gains her confidence. Charles is aware of Merricat's hostility and is increasingly rude to her and impatient of Julian's weaknesses. He makes many references to the money the sisters keep locked in their father's safe, and gradually forms something of an alliance with Constance, encouraging her to leave her home. Merricat perceives Charles as a threat and tries various magical and otherwise disruptive means to drive him from the house. Uncle Julian is increasingly disgusted by Charles and suspects that Charles came there for the Blackwoods' fortune.

One night before dinner, when Constance sends Merricat upstairs to wash her hands, Merricat, in a fit of anger, pushes Charles' smoking pipe into a wastebasket filled with newspapers. This soon causes a massive fire that consumes the family home. The villagers arrive and help put out the fire, but then finally unleash their long-repressed hostility toward the Blackwoods by vandalizing and ransacking the house. Driven outdoors, Merricat and Constance flee into the woods after being threatened by the villagers, while Julian dies of apparent heart failure during the fire and Charles attempts to take the family safe. While Merricat and Constance shelter for the night under a tree that Merricat has made into a hideaway, Constance confesses that she always knew that Merricat was the one who poisoned the family. Merricat readily admits to the deed, saying that she put the poison in the sugar bowl because she knew that Constance would not take sugar.

Upon returning to their ruined home, Constance and Merricat proceed to salvage what is left of their belongings, close off the rooms too damaged to use, and start their lives anew in the little space left to them. The house, now without a roof, resembles a castle "turreted and open to the sky." Constance and Merricat spend much of their time watching the outside world through peepholes hidden by vines that grow to cover the house. The villagers, feeling remorse at their actions, begin to leave food on their doorstep, while developing stories about the house akin to folklore. Charles returns once to try to renew his acquaintance with Constance, but she ignores him. The sisters choose to remain alone and unseen by the rest of the world.

Jacobs, W.W.: The Monkey's Paw

The Monkey's Paw is for sure a Desolation artifact, granting wishes only to hurt as many people as possible.

Jenkins, Kenna: Burn the House Down: A Biography of America's First Woman President

In 1935, Janine Moore was just another Congressman’s widow who ascended to his seat by promising to continue his legacy. Twelve years later, the White House burned, with President Janine Moore left standing in the ashes.

It’s been fifty years since Janine Moore was president. Few remember her “Accidental Presidency,” and even fewer know that it was no real accident. After half a century of the truth gathering dust, the story of the first female president finally spills from the lips and pens of the most important people in her life—a gripping tale of political intrigue, heedless ambition, desperate motherhood, and a sixty-year forbidden love affair that will shake everyone’s ideas of what truly went down in an administration destined to burn.

What lengths was a farmer’s daughter willing to go to in order to climb the stairs to the White House and break the greatest glass ceiling in the world? Why did her famously temperamental relationship with her second husband crash and burn? And most importantly, who burned down the White House that fateful night?

King, Stephen: Carrie

Man, I know it's a gimme nomination but come on.

King, Stephen: Firestarter

The Department of Scientific Intelligence (aka "The Shop") never anticipated that two participants in their research program would marry and have a child. Charlie McGee inherited pyrokinetic powers from her parents, who had been given a low-grade hallucinogen called "Lot Six" while at college. Now the government is trying to capture young Charlie and harness her powerful firestarting skills as a weapon.

Kohn, Edward P.: Hot Time in the Old Town

One of the worst natural disasters in American history, the 1896 New York heat wave killed almost 1,500 people in ten oppressively hot days. The heat coincided with a pitched presidential contest between William McKinley and the upstart Democrat William Jennings Bryan, who arrived in New York City at the height of the catastrophe. As historian Edward P. Kohn shows, Bryan's hopes for the presidency began to flag amidst the abhorrent heat just as a bright young police commissioner named Theodore Roosevelt was scrambling to mitigate the dangerously high temperatures by hosing down streets and handing out ice to the poor. A vivid narrative that captures the birth of the progressive era, Hot Time in the Old Town revives the forgotten disaster that almost destroyed a great American city.

In addition to the heat wave itself, elements of the Desolation contained in this account include the terrible, inhumane conditions of the New York City tenements and the abrupt decline of Bryant's presidential chances and political future.

Koryta, Michael: Those Who Wish Me Dead

When fourteen-year-old Jace Wilson witnesses a brutal murder, he's plunged into a new life, issued a false identity and hidden in a wilderness skills program for troubled teens. The plan is to get Jace off the grid while police find the two killers. The result is the start of a nightmare.

The killers, known as the Blackwell Brothers, are slaughtering anyone who gets in their way in a methodical quest to reach him. Now all that remains between them and the boy are Ethan and Allison Serbin, who run the wilderness survival program; Hannah Faber, who occupies a lonely fire lookout tower; and endless miles of desolate Montana mountains.

The clock is ticking, the mountains are burning, and those who wish Jace Wilson dead are no longer far behind.

Kuang, Rebecca F.:  The Poppy War

When Rin aced the Keju—the Empire-wide test to find the most talented youth to learn at the Academies(...) That she got into Sinegard—the most elite military school in Nikan—was even more surprising.(...) Rin discovers she possesses a lethal, unearthly power—an aptitude for the nearly-mythical art of shamanism. Exploring the depths of her gift with the help of a seemingly insane teacher and psychoactive substances, Rin learns that gods long thought dead are very much alive—and that mastering control over those powers could mean more than just surviving school.

For while the Nikara Empire is at peace, the Federation of Mugen still lurks across a narrow sea. The militarily advanced Federation occupied Nikan for decades after the First Poppy War, and only barely lost the continent in the Second. And while most of the people are complacent to go about their lives, a few are aware that a Third Poppy War is just a spark away . . .

Rin’s shamanic powers may be the only way to save her people. But as she finds out more about the god that has chosen her, the vengeful Phoenix, she fears that winning the war may cost her humanity . . . and that it may already be too late.

SPOILERS: In this book, the main character uses the powers of Phoenix which are activated by hate( a very Desolation emotion imo) to genocide the enemy nation. Phoenix who grants the Rin and another character (who is fueled by hate in his daily life) is a Desolation entity both capable of great destruction, which he loves, as well as fire-related.

London, Jack: To Build a Fire

This story is a mere 16 pages. It tells the story of a man freezing to death in the Yukon.

(check out Jacob Geller's "Fear of Cold" video essay on it or Google it, the entire story is online) While the Magnus Archives mainly associated the Desolation with fire, the pain and suffering is very appropriate for the Fear of the Cold.

Morrell, David: Orange Is for Anguish, Blue for Insanity

it is a short story about a man who watches his friend destroy his health, relationships and life in an attempt to uncover a secret contained in paintings of Van Dorn, a famous 19th century artist. the search leads him to a small village in france, where he suffers a breakdown and dies from suicide, like all the researchers before him. the protagonist flies to france to help orginise the return of his friend's body to usa, but becomes obsessed with the secret himself. he stays in the village and starts researching Van Dorn's paintings, depleting his savings and postponing his wedding. locals warn him to stop the research, but he ignores them and delves deeper into the mystery. it doesn't end well for him. he uncovers the secret, but becomes affected by terrible migraines, that caused every other researcher to blind themselves and ultimately commit suicide. the only thing that alleviates the pain is painting, and the protagonist intends to use up every sliver of this newfound drive to create art before he meets the fate of every researcher before him.

the paintings at the center of the narrative almost function like a leitner, consuming the victim and driving them to destroy their lives in pursuit of the secret.

Palahniuk, Chuck: Fight Club

The way Tyler acts and is very Desolation in my opinion just fights and destroys stuff. Also, the strong theme of capitalism and capitalism also has ties to Desolation.

Pepys, Samuel: The Diary of Samuel Pepys

A record of several personal and historical events which occurred throughout Pepys' lifetime, including a detailed description of the Great Fire of London and its effects.

Poe, Edgar Allan: Hop-Frog; Or, the Eight Chained Ourang-Outangs

The titular Hop-Frog gets revenge on the king and his ministers for the mistreatment of his lover by convincing them to dress up as orangutans and freak out their guests. Funny joke! He covers them in pitch and flax to mimic fur, he chains them together, and ushers them into the party. Then he sets them on fucking fire.

Pratchett, Terry: I Shall Wear Midnight

It starts with whispers.

Then someone picks up a stone.

Finally, the fires begin.

When people turn on witches, the innocents suffer. . .

Tiffany Aching has spent years studying with senior witches, and now she is on her own. As the witch of the Chalk, she performs the bits of witchcraft that aren't sparkly, aren't fun, don't involve any kind of wand, and that people seldom ever hear about: She does the unglamorous work of caring for the needy.

But someone or something is igniting fear, inculcating dark thoughts and angry murmurs against witches. Aided by her tiny blue allies, the Wee Free Men, Tiffany must find the source of this unrest and defeat the evil at its root before it takes her life. Because if Tiffany falls, the whole Chalk falls with her.

Shakespeare, William: Romeo & Juliet

I personally think that all the pointless death and suffering in RaJ are work of Desolation. All possible things that could go wrong and result in death and destruction do.

Shelley, Mary: Frankenstein

Due to the Creature's repulsive appearance, he is denied any human kindness or connection. Even on the rare occasion when encounters someone who cannot see his hideousness, the people around him drive the Creature away. Embittered by this, he demands that his creator make him a partner. When Frankenstein refuses, the Creature responds by slowly destroying everyone he loves.

Shusterman, Neal: Full Tilt

Sixteen-year-old Blake and his younger brother, Quinn, are exact opposites. Blake is the responsible member of the family. He constantly has to keep an eye on the fearless Quinn, whose thrill-seeking sometimes goes too far. But the stakes get higher when Blake has to chase Quinn into a bizarre phantom carnival that traps its customers forever. In order to escape, Blake must survive seven deadly rides by dawn, each of which represents a deep, personal fear -- from a carousel of stampeding animals to a hall of mirrors that changes people into their deformed reflections. Blake ultimately has to face up to a horrible secret from his own past to save himself and his brother -- that is, if the carnival doesn't claim their souls first!

Snicket, Lemony: A Series of Unfortunate Events

Three kids lose their parents and home in a fire and get shuffled from horrible situation to horrible situation, suffering various misfortunes at the hands of arsonist villains and adults who, even at their most well-meaning, cannot or will not help them. They lose everyone and everything they care about except for each other, and ultimately are left to face the cruel world on their own.

Spark, Muriel: The Only Problem

So, in this novel, the main character, Harvey Gotham is a scholar focused on the titular Only Problem which is the problem of suffering. He studies the biblical story of Job to whom terrible needless suffering happened and in the course of the novel, Harvey's own life goes to shit. He becomes a Job-like figure to whom needless and pointless suffering is happening. To me, this sounds like Desolation's work needles suffering and pointless destruction of his peaceful life and people he loves separated from him and all this while he analyses the life of a different man who himself seems like a Desolation victim like a curse which is a Leitner's theme if I saw one.

Takami, Koushun: Battle Royale

Koushun Takami's notorious high-octane thriller is based on an irresistible premise: a class of junior high school students is taken to a deserted island where, as part of a ruthless authoritarian program, they are provided arms and forced to kill one another until only one survivor is left standing. Could be seen as Slaughter, but personally I think this pointless destruction of life involved in the plot works for Desolation as well.

Wells, H.G.: The War of the Worlds

earth is attacked by martians, who use highly advanced weapons - heat rays. here is a quote from the book:

"Then it was as if an invisible yet intensely heated finger were drawn through the heather between me and the Martians, and all along a curving line beyond the sand pits the dark ground smoked and crackled". and another one: "[the heat ray is] a generator of intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute non-conductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror of unknown composition, much as the parabolic mirror of a lighthouse projects a beam of light."

the martians also capture people to drink their blood, and wreak all sorts of havoc on the local population

[gatutor]

Barbara Rush-Sterling Hayden "Pluma de fuego" (Flaming feather) 1952, de Ray Enright.

[esuemmanuel]

A diario se me recuerda de alguna manera lo extraño que soy para este mundo; lo diferente, lo único, lo ajeno. Cada día el universo me hace abrir los ojos con dolor y sorpresa ante la realidad de lo que es ser un ser humano; ese ente material, sujeto a la tangilibilidad y propenso a las leyes universales de la física. Me duele ¿sabes? Me duele lo que me hace ver la realidad. Me duele darme cuenta de lo raro que soy. Me duele tener el mal de la imaginación, del sentimiento, de la emoción... Me duele amar lo intangible y trabajar para traerlo al papel en la palabra escrita. Me duele tener presente que soy más que un pedazo de carne que se mueve, que piensa, que respira... ¿Que por qué me duele? ¡Porque no hay nadie como yo! ¡No hay nadie, puta madre, como yo! No hay nadie que cierre los ojos y busque ver el alma... No hay nadie que abra las manos y se entregue ciegamente a la palabra... No hay nadie que olvide su nombre, su cuerpo, su apellido, su casa para perderse en la plenitud de lo incorpóreo, en eso que sólo puede ser visto con los ojos del espíritu... ¡No, no hay nadie, carajo! Estoy solo en este mundo... He estado solo desde que nací, porque nací enfermo... Nací enfermo de luna, de aire, de éter, de sueños, de imaginación y de irrealidad. ¡Me duele! ¡Oh, me duele! Y nadie, claro que nadie, lo va a poder entender, porque no son yo... No tienen en los ojos las nubes del cielo ni en las manos las plumas de las aves... No tienen en el pecho el latido de una fuente que no deja de verterse en agua... No tienen en el plexo el fuego del mañana, de ese sol que arde buscando quemar con sus rayos la oscuridad que me castra... Me duele ser un alma que no sabe ser un cuerpo, que no sabe ser un nombre, que no entiende de necesidades físicas ni materiales... No hay día que el mundo no me lo recuerde y me haga sentir un alienígena... He querido aprender a ser humano, pero, fallo... Siempre fallo... Porque mi alma no fue hecha para este mundo y eso, carajo, duele aceptarlo.

Every day I am reminded in some way of how strange I am to this world; how different, how unique, how alien. Every day the universe makes me open my eyes with pain and surprise at the reality of what it is to be a human being; that material entity, subject to tangibility and prone to the universal laws of physics. It hurts me, you know? It hurts me what makes me see reality. It hurts me to realize how rare I am. It hurts me to have the evil of imagination, of feeling, of emotion... It hurts me to love the intangible and to work to bring it to paper in the written word. It hurts me to keep in mind that I am more than a piece of flesh that moves, that thinks, that breathes, because there is no one like me! There is no one, motherfucker, like me! There is no one who closes his eyes and looks for the soul… There is no one who opens his hands and gives himself blindly to the word… There is no one who forgets his name, his body, his surname, his home to lose himself in the fullness of the incorporeal, in that which can only be seen with the eyes of the spirit… No, there is no one, damn it! I am alone in this world… I have been alone since I was born, because I was born sick…. I was born sick of moon, of air, of ether, of dreams, of imagination and of unreality. It hurts me! Oh, it hurts me! And nobody, of course nobody, will be able to understand it, because they are not me…. They do not have in their eyes the clouds of the sky, nor in their hands the feathers of birds…. They do not have in their chest the beat of a fountain that never stops pouring water…. They do not have in the plexus the fire of tomorrow, of that sun that burns seeking to burn with its rays the darkness that castrates me…. It hurts me to be a soul that does not know how to be a body, that does not know how to be a name, that does not understand physical or material needs… There is not a day that the world does not remind me of it and makes me feel like an alien… I have wanted to learn to be human, but, I fail… I always fail… Because my soul was not made for this world and that, damn, it hurts to accept it.

[agendaculturaldelima]

#Poesia #AmigosInolvidables

📣 FESTIVAL EMBISTE #3 📜✒🐂💜

💥 Lecturas de poesía y microrrelatos con la participación de poetas y narradores locales y de provincia en escena, presentaciones de libros y sorteos.📇📕📚

© Producción: La poesía embiste.

📝 PROGRAMA:

📆 Jueves 04 de Julio

🕖 7:30pm.   

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Andrea Castillo, Eduardo Borjas, Milagros Chávez, David de Soto, Quilev Ray, Daniel Escudero y Cristhian Cárdenas

  🏫 Casa Astarté (pasaje García Calderón 111 - Centro de Lima)

📆 Viernes 05 de Julio

🕖 7:30pm.

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Ivonne Bernuy, Juan de la Fuente, Marianela Garrido, Miguel Cotrina, Malú Cabezas, Andrea Jara y Paola de la Jara

📖 Presentación del Libro: “DANZAN LAS AVES” 💃🐦

✍️ Autoría: Lenyan Veka

🎤 Comentarios: Diego Bardález

🎶 Música: Mika Stonem.

📆 Sábado 06 de Julio

🕡 6:30pm.

🗣 Recital de Poesía: Teresa Orbegoso, Verónica Torres, Emilia Chávez, Marie Linares, James Quiróz, Carlos Rosales, Helmut Jerí, Andrea Castillo, César Olivares, Renato Salas y Marco Quijano

📖 Presentación del Libro: "Mujeres en Fuego [Antología Poética]" de María Antonieta Tejada (Arequipa), Gloria Mendoza Borda (Puno), Eldi Toro( Lima), Gabriela Cuba (Lima), Isabel Sabogal ( Lima), Marita Palomino( Lima), Leda Quintana (Lima), Edith Vega Centeno ( Cusco), Katherine Estrada (Lima), Ana Vera ( Lima), Gimena Vartu ( Lima), Lisset Vera ( Cusco), Alhelí Málaga (Lima), Lenyan Veka ( Cusco), Andrea Angles (Quillabamba), Muki Sabogal ( Cusco), Daniela D. Barrios (Arequipa), Ana Claudia Moca ( Chiclayo), Sandra L. Calsín (Juliaca), Nelly Patricia Mamani ( Cusco), Frida Loy Tice( Puno), Luz Dávila( Lima) y Yuliana D. Luque (Juliaca).✍️  

🎤 Comentarios: Lenyan Veka, Gimena Vartu y Katherine Estrada.

📘 Editorial Fuego

🏡 Restaurante Cultural Tierra Baldía (av. Del Ejército 847 – Miraflores).

📌 JORNADAS:

 📆 Del 04 al 06 de Julio

🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂�� Ingreso libre.