#so reading this tribute made me sad but also made me feel like

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

@actuallylukedanes sent me this and it is my favorite memorial of matthew perry without question. made me want to cry.

[odinsblog]

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

[storiesoflilies]

as we fall, time is broken

synopsis: from the sea you came to me, and to the sea you shall return, for you cannot hate the place you once called home. w.c: 6.3k.

pairing: vampire!toji fushiguro x vampire!f!reader

warnings: major character death, angst, toxic relationship, allusion to smut, blood consumption, language barrier, pirate vibes, religious themes. sfw but MDNI!

a/n: an extra special fic for the wonderful @bungalowbear this piece is also written as a tribute to ‘the odyssey’ by @lovenona <3

divider / ao3 / playlist / @ficsforgaza

she used to have it all once, and more.

and not so long ago, she even used to dream. maybe she still did sometimes, but it certainly never meant what it used to.

perhaps that is why she came back here all the time, to the place where it all began to try and relive it all again. to turn back time, attempt to break through a metaphysical barrier and maybe – just maybe – she could see him again.

it was a cathartic, toxic, addictive cycle.

this is what pain is. this is what love is.

the rain was coming down hard on the sand, little water angels falling down from heaven to try and comfort her.

(that was a place she could never go.

this was as close as she could get.)

she tipped her neck upwards to the blackness of the night, letting them pass through her like a blessing she could not accept. it was too late for her to be worrying about that now. life had already hurt her so, and she’d already paid her dues. still, she raised her arms above her head, imagining a halo of starlight and moonlight was there.

she was doomed to be here, you see, all alone and trying to make sense of how it all began. like the start of a book she had to keep re-reading over and over again to try and understand the past. she couldn’t give up now, no. no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t, not after all this time.

something was broken, she could feel it.

sighing, she flicked open the cover.

and the memories spilled out onto the weather worn pages again, incoherent inky letters slowly swirling into something legible.

this is the last time, she swore.

(even though,

that is what she said the last time.)

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

the sea was in her lungs, filling her with salt and death.

(no, not death.

that was already upon her.)

she was washed up on a beach, that much she knew. there was the smell of fresh seaweed and something fishy, and the waves were moving backwards and forwards in their dance. she stayed put, unable to move or do anything at all. the silver sky had its eyes on her, and it seemed to pity her.

no.

calling it silver made it beautiful, and it was not. it was like ashen skin kissed with coal dust, and she pitied it instead.

she tenderly rubbed the wet sand of the shore with her fingertips, feeling its somewhat smooth grainy texture run over her skin, and tried to loose herself in a tender fascination to escape how bone weary she felt. her throat burned ferociously, and her lips were cracked and sore from the salt grains embedded in every groove. she weakly looked up, and did not recognize where she was, or how she got here.

(there was a boat. the smell of oil and rum, and screams of bubbling blood.

she did know, she just did not want to remember.)

her back was to the sky. she could feel the heat of sun bearing down upon her with a vengeance she had never known it could possess. it kept her beaten and downed, unable to do anything at all as the waves rushed over her again and again. the sea was disgusted by her, she thought. and after spitting her out, it was trying with all its might to push her far away from it – a petulant child pushing away it’s dinner.

how very sad it all was.

she just wanted to lay there and dream.

the roaring and crashing of the waves was deafening. it hurt her ears and head more than the sun did, made her deaf to everything else around her.

a squelch on the sand, and hard boot pressed into the side of her cheek.

her salt crusted eyes cracked open.

it was a man.

(no, he wasn’t.

he was just like her.)

tall and built, his hair dark like smoke. she could tell he was strong, it poured from him like wine from an overflowing goblet. it was in his hands and in his eyes of emeralds and forests. there was a green fire in them that could burn her alive if he wanted it to. he looked down at her like she was scum, an ugly barnacle leaching off the bottom of his ship, and she wanted nothing more than to shrivel up into nothingness.

his mouth moved, saccharine words spilling out from between them like honey and lavender.

she thought he sounded like an angel.

but she couldn’t understand a thing.

a green flash of annoyance, and he repeated much more slowly what sounded like a question. the weight of his boot left her cheek, and she clicked her jaw painfully. he pursed his lips, and sighed in a way that let her clearly know she was already an inconvenience to him.

she wanted to cry.

(she could never,

there was no water left in her anymore.)

her voice tried to claw its way out of her dried throat, but nothing more than a pathetic, raspy wheeze came out. he raised a thick brow at her, and something sarcastic flew out of his mouth. what little interest he had in her was quickly waning.

she was to him like sand in an hourglass.

please don’t leave me here like this.

but he had already turned around. she saw the worn leather of his tanned boots walking further away from where she laid in her mausoleum of salt. she almost choked on the shoreline in fear, sputtering as a desperate strength seized her. her fists plunged into the wet sand as she pushed herself up ungracefully, falling almost immediately back in again.

she was a lamb learning to walk, and he was the wolf who had decided she wasn’t even worth his effort.

he stopped and turned, watching her stare up at him with a naive expression and sand plastered on her face.

clearly, he would not be helping her.

and so she got up sluggishly, stumbling through the sand dunes, her legs crisscrossing with every shaky step. every time she fell roughly straight on her chin, he did not budge an inch forward, did not seem to care at all.

and yet, he was still waiting for her.

her spent body was alight with renewed vigor, and the last few steps were easy, like her new body knew exactly what it was supposed to do now. she stood in front of him now, breathing in the scent of leather and his smoke.

was it disgust or pride that was making his lips curl?

his face was marble, beautiful and utterly unreadable. this was a man that did not want anybody breaking through into his soul. she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she slipped through a little crack.

(she was good at that.

after all, that was how she ended up like this.)

he roughly gripped her chin, calloused fingertips scratching her water wrinkled skin. his green eyes became slits that peered into her, trapping her in his spell. she gasped, a wet noisy thing, as she felt herself being pulled under into his depths. he was trying to dull her senses, to keep her dumb and overwhelm her in a dancing forest of kelp to drown her.

but the side of her that was logical and predatory knew that he was testing her. to see if she could resist him or not, to surmise if she could be of some use to him and his purposes after all.

but oh, this feeling.

she teetered dangerously on a knife edge between insanity and mortality, stuck in an infinite loop that was him and his green.

there was only this, them, here and now.

his gaze slid down and settled on her bare chest. she became hyper aware of her own nakedness. something ancient, a feminine violence, stirred her unfeeling heart. she slapped away his hand and bared her fangs of pearl at him.

it was a woeful display really.

she knew it, and he certainly did too.

still, something in it had made him smile.

he offered her his hand like salvation, his palm facing the heavens.

(the first woman from long ago screamed.

you will not survive this – him.)

but she was already dead, and he already seemed to know everything there was to know about her. she had already decided that she would follow him wherever he went.

she slid her palm into his.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

his name was toji.

he’d pointed a finger at himself, slowly repeating the two syllables between his blood-stained lips until she understood what he meant.

toji.

she swiped her tongue over her teeth, licked her lips, and said it back to him tepidly, like crystal water trickling from a jug. his name was sugar dusted over her cupids bow, the most precious and sweet thing to her. she said his name like a prayer, and he seemed pleased by it.

toji was by far the most interesting creature she had ever encountered. a prince of mysteries, shrouded in royal mist and smoke.

(but he could never be king.

for there was already one, and he did not share.)

even though she had seen much and more of the world, nothing compared to him. not the great glaciers of the poles, for all their silent sorrow and imposing grandeur. not the swarming godly manta rays, nor the iridescent palaces of rainbow coral. not even the green flashes of death when the sun was just beginning to sleep or rise for the day.

and yet, toji had been there in glimpses within all the world’s greatness.

she had just been blind to him.

below the deck of toji’s ship, they lay there on the dusted-covered wooden floor in absolute silence, waiting out their penance. the sun was the vengeful michael, its rays of light a sword of justice, ready to bear down on them. if they dared to even show a sliver of skin during the day, then they would boil and blister and pop until they returned to the refuge of darkness.

toji’s ship was anchored a little way from shore, but far enough that ordinary creatures could not get to it without a boat. it had once belonged to fishermen, she knew because their smell still clung faintly to the wood; of grease and sweat and their catch. the oversized clothes toji had scrounged for her amongst the forgotten treasures on the ship still reeked of them too. the lingering sweet smell of lobster and crab shells still clung to the worn threads, even though they had been disused and covered in dust for perhaps decades.

her body could do things like that now.

it was easy to marvel at her extraordinary changes during those times of silence. how her skin was made of diamonds and moonstone, stronger than it had ever been before. no matter how hard she tried to pierce it, whether with her own nails or sharp bits of metal lying around the ship, nothing could even scratch it. but when she had attempted to use a splintered plank of wood, toji had grappled her before she could blink. the suddenness of it sent her into a hissing, flailing mess, but his overwhelming strength and stern glare in his eyes had stilled her, even frightened her.

she knew then to never try that again.

between the cracks in the boards, she could see far out into the distance. could make out where the world curled, where the sea kissed the land, and the humans that gathered mussels between the rocks. she could even tell how dirty and grimy their clothes were, how soaked they became as the waves crashed into them, and their reddening skin glistening beneath the sun.

her hearing had sharpened too, and she knew that if not for the deafening roar of the sea filling her ears like white noise, she would be able to hear things moving from miles away.

but her favorite thing?

that was to run.

for hours, she would race beneath the ship, from one end to the other, touching the stained wood with her finger tips as she pushed off each wall. toji would sometimes watch her with one eye cracked open, completely unamused. she would not stop running until her throat burned with thirst, fierce and hot. only then then would she would stop, collapsing in a heap on the bare floors, blankly staring up at the decking.

it was then that their silence was all consuming, unbearable.

she couldn’t help but think she had traded her tomb of salt for one of wood. sleep was but a memory of life now, an escape neither of them could indulge in anymore. there was nothing she could do but be consumed by thought and time. she was surprised by just how much she could feel. her veins ran with pure emotion, from the most euphoric joy, to merciless, crushing sadness in the space of a few minutes.

what was her purpose now?

immortality surely had to mean more than being a slave to blood magic.

she imagined what toji thought about. he, perhaps wisely, never moved an inch when he settled beneath the ship, arms crossed behind his thick head of hair. she wondered if he was just as painfully thirsty as she was, and was just able to perfectly hide it. what little movements he made were never careless, because toji was far too calculating for that and hated anything unnecessary.

she knew better than to antagonize him.

but the restless part of her was just so incredibly bored.

one day, she couldn’t help herself. she wanted to see just how close toji would let her get. she crept towards him on her hands and knees, knowing full well that he could hear her skin scraping against the wood.

still, he didn’t move.

she was beside him now, gazing down at his face. toji looked serene like this, perfectly still. like death, wonderful and mysterious, not at all what she thought it would be like. he was not unfeeling and cold, there was something beneath his marble stone. she knew that toji was older than her, much older. there was something beautifully ancient about him. the sort of grace that was as timeless as the giant blue whales that used to sing to her of the histories.

but toji was her home in a way the seas had never been.

she reached out into the space between them, wanting – yearning – to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.

when she finally felt the cold touch of his death, toji opened his eyes, bathing her in molten emerald. she melted under his gaze, letting out the tiniest, pathetic whimper. her palm cupped the apple of his cheek, and she worshipped his ichor and perfection. she traced the scar on his lip, memorizing it smoothness, then trailed it along his lips. she smiled widely, childishly, at how freely toji was allowing her to do this.

his green fire spread to her undead heart, and she wetted her lips, throat burning ardently, as her hand settled over his neck.

what would his blood taste like?

would it be cold and sweet? she imagined its ruby redness trickling from between her lips, and–

toji gripped her wrist, a warning blaze setting her aflame as he snarled and flashed his fangs at her.

she stilled, crippling shame filling her.

for a moment, the universe watched with bated breath as the two creatures stared each other down. she submitted to him instantly, dragging herself with haste to the other end of the ship, groping for apologetic words that toji would never understand.

eventually, he grunted dismissively. he slowly pulled himself upright, and nudged his head toward the exit. she turned and stared out through the cracks in the boards behind her.

it was finally night.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

wherever they were in the world, it was the most unremarkable of places.

the humans here were stones hardened into the mould of this desolate place, with no hope of ever leaving. they all lived and died in their sad, grease-riddled town that made its living from the fish in the sea. she knew this because toji had taken her there one day to observe them all from a distance, when the storm clouds were heavy enough to shield them from the sun. their buildings were stained with guts and old blood, and the acrid smell of their oil lamps rose high into the air. the rhythmic sound of fish scales being scraped away was the beating heart of it all.

(she would have cried for them once,

but she did not belong to their world anymore.)

there was a port too, with sullen ships and even more sullen crew sailing them. pirates came and went with the wind, their unmarked sails pitifully flapping in the breeze. they stopped to indulge in whatever bars and brothels were there, always wiping their hands clean on their weather-stained pants when they were done, before hastily escaping back into the sea. perhaps they knew they would be doomed to remain here too if they stayed even a moment longer.

how toji ended up in a place like this, she did not know.

after swimming to shore from his ship, he would leave her on the beach. everytime she attempted to follow, toji would pin her down, shoving her arms deep into the sand and baring his alabaster fangs as a warning. she would pout her lips, petulantly crossing her arms like a child, and he would mumble what she knew were the blackest of curses before stalking off in the direction of the town.

she had no say in the matter.

all she could do was wait there for him to return, and such had been their routine for decades now.

even when her thirst was painful, she would still sprint along the beach, the adoring motherly moonlight kissing her skin. she would wade into the ocean and dive beneath the blackened waves, holding her breath between puffed out cheeks. the darting squid would watch her with their bulbous, intelligent eyes. they used to speak to her once, wrap their tentacles around her throat and tell her stories of creatures from the depths even she had dared not go to.

and now?

they spat their thick ink at her in disgust.

and then she would resurface, relishing in the loneliness of the world, and she would sing again.

to the ocean, and ode to its life and all its cruel misery.

she would sing to the moon, for its silver death and all its mystery.

(and to the king with red eyes.

for it was by his hand that the cards had dealt her a prince.)

her songs for toji came from someplace deep within her. something boundless like fire, or the mist hovering over the sea on the grayest of mornings. she would sing of how he curled over her skin like a storm rolling in from the distance. how he made her emotions rise and fall like the waves, and how she wanted to breath in the dust on his marble skin and keep him inside her forever.

her body would prickle with something unfamiliar.

she wanted to call it love.

but could creatures like them even feel such a thing?

they were predators, killers. they snuffed out love like it was nothing, fed on the ardor in the blood of their prey until the bodies shriveled and there was nothing left but dust.

thud!

she ceased her melody, and turned to face who she already knew was toji returning from the hunt.

there was a man sprawled on the sand reeking of piss and terror and rum. she watched as the moonlight mixed with the bead of sweat running down his temple, dripping down to mix with the crushed shells in the sand.

she tilted her head curiously.

in all these long years, toji had never once brought her a live human.

thump! thump! thump!

her pupils dilated, inky blackness invading the milky sea of her eyes at the sound of the man’s heartbeat.

she had not killed a living thing in so long.

(the red king had sat at the helm,

smiling at the bloody carnage spilled over the oak decking of his ship.)

toji’s eyes were green lanterns in the night, his worn leather boot pressing down hard on the man’s back. she wondered if this was a test – it had to be. toji never did anything without reason, even if she never knew exactly what went on in his mind. he was too cunning for mindless havoc, because then the resulting mess would be uncontrollable, unpredictable.

and toji did not like things to be messy.

the man looked at her, and she cooed at the fear etched into his features like scratchings on a rock. she opened her arms wide like a messiah, her body half-swallowed by the sea.

and started to sing again.

toji’s eyes widened a fraction, his fists tightening into boulders. he lifted his foot from the man’s back, stepping once, then twice backward, his mouth set in a thin line.

(he has heard you sing, and now he shall never let you go.

cried the first woman from long ago.)

she knew the magic was no longer imbued within her voice, because that had been a gift for the living. but death had not made it ugly. it was still a pretty voice, made from ice instead of salt. while she may not be able to drown the mighty ships of pirates any longer, it was still enough to captivate those who would kill for something more beautiful than the dirt they were born in.

the man stumbled forward, much like when she had first emerged from the sea. she smiled fondly as the wind carried her song over the sand dunes. still, the poor human crawled and crept towards her desperately like she was his salvation. the only rone who would soothe away all his troubles, and save him from the doom and demons in the shadows.

was this how toji had felt when she came to him? it was something more than power – godlike, perhaps.

she decided that she liked this feeling.

the man collapsed ungracefully into her arms, tears and snot streaming down both his cheeks like rain, babbling nonsense she could not understand. she cradled him to her chest, hushing him soothingly with a mother’s honeyed tongue. she met toji’s gaze, hoping that he could see just how deliriously grateful she was to him for this gift.

and with that, she fell backward into the sea, the man’s last sound a choking gasp of salt.

the squid darted frantically all around her, the only witnesses to the man’s fate in the darkness of the night sea. they had seen this dance a thousand and one times before; she killed in the death the same way she had in life.

when she had had her fill, she let the man’s body sink and hoped that at least the sharks would be somewhat thankful to her.

even if she would never be able to hear it.

she emerged from the sea, her clothes clinging to her skin like scales. to her surprise, toji was there to greet her, knee deep beneath the waves. he was a haunting vision of an angels grandeur, more than all that was considered beautiful in the world. breathlessly, she smiled at him, sinful blood coating her teeth and tongue.

he took a step toward her, and she to him.

toji moved his head to the side, his marble jaw flashing in the moon, and hummed. she could tell he was pleased by the tremble of his lips that threatened to curl upward, and the flare of his nostrils as he breathed her in.

his hand reached out to her, cupping her jaw, and quickly pushed his thumb between her parted lips. she gasped against his skin as he rubbed it over her teeth and the pearly points of her fangs, and removed it from her mouth with a provocative pop!

slowly, toji brought it to his own lips.

and sucked.

she watched him, utterly transfixed as the midnight moon, as he relished the taste of iron and salt.

in that moment, she decided to give toji her soul to him if she had one. she would submit herself to the justice of michael’s sun and fire to be with him forever, even if was just for a chance to be loved by him until the end of time on this miserable land in the vast world.

“do you want me to sing again?” she asked, hoping he understood.

toji only hummed in response, the faintest hint of a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

she did it anyway.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

to love toji was to love a storm.

its chilling anticipation, waiting for it to hit her so she could feel something. to be in its green eye, for the rain to carelessly slash her skin, and the waves to bash against her – and still love and endure it regardless. because to weather a storm was to be strong, to be worthy enough, and it would love her all the more for it.

(or perhaps,

see her as a challenge to break.)

and when the storm passed, it meant they would thrive together.

toji had continued to bring her one starved man after the other, sometimes even two at a time, all far too eager to take their chances with her rather than him. they were pirates, forgettable and disposable, and all met death in the sea that they claimed to love more than anything. toji had noticed quite quickly how easily they came to her, how willingly.

there was no struggle, no mess.

and so, that was how they hunted.

together.

something in her haunting song had cracked through toji’s wall. before dawn, satiated from the hunt, they were a tangled mess of limbs and panting breaths – dancing, wandering hands of liquid gold looking for a crevice to settle in. when they made love, toji never faced her, hissing if she tried to look at him, and a small part of her soul would wither into a burnt, blackened rose. still, she desperately drank in whatever he decided to give her, and that was decidedly good enough.

(you are nothing in the grand schemings of the green serpent in the garden,

sighed the first women from long ago.)

their days were still spent mostly in silence, though sometimes he allowed her to rest beside him. she did not understand toji, how his passion only seemed to awaken after his bloodlust had been quenched – after she had led the sailors to their deaths. the very moment the sun appeared, that part of him was locked away in a chest and thrown to the bottom of the sea, only to be dragged back to the surface when the moon returned.

she began to loathe the sun for entirely different reasons.

still, love for toji was where she found herself. if anything in this mortal world could make her undead heart beat once more, it was that love. so, she took all his faults and smothered them in sugar, and swallowed them down anyway. if toji did not love her, then he wouldn’t make her feel so alive when the moon came out to play. he would not have bothered with anything at all if he did not feel something, even if it was just a flicker of candlelight.

at least, that is how she rationalized it to herself.

they were both lying below deck, with her running through those very conflicting thoughts in her head when she heard it.

thump! thud, thud… thump!

she parted her lips and tasted the air on her tongue.

intruders.

on their ship, in broad daylight.

she sat up abruptly and whirled around to look at toji.

but he had already disappeared.

he was much faster than she, and was probably already tucked away somewhere in between the dusty maze of crates and chests. the footsteps grew louder as the stranger passed directly over her head, and she swallowed nervously. her mind raced, and throat burned viciously with thirst.

where could she hide?

rattle! clink, clink!

the metal latches on the doors were being disturbed.

there was nowhere to go, but she knew that when those doors opened, the holy sun of heaven would surely kill her. she spied a large chest, half-open and draped with worn sheets covering it, and dove toward it.

and not a moment too soon.

the doors swung open, and she winced as a dull beige light filtered through the sheet. there were three of them, their figures outlined as blurry browned shadows through the seams. one wore an ostentatious hat with a feather peeking out from the top, and something about his sword, sheathed in a black leather scabbard, set her teeth on edge.

something menacing.

something that could hurt her – toji.

her lips curled back over her gums, baring her fangs in a silent snarl.

they were moving deeper and deeper into the maze of crates, their backs gradually turned to her and their doom.

she pounced.

michael’s sword of light seared her exposed neck and arms, but it did not deter her from latching onto one of the smaller intruders and sinking her teeth into his neck. the man screamed, clawing desperately at her face as he slipped backwards in surprise. the other two whirled around, and the one with the hat unsheathed his sword to reveal gleaming, cruel silver.

together, the four of them danced around each other to the tune of blood and silver. for every weeping bite she left, the captain slashed her with his sword. she didn’t know it could be possible, but the pain from his strikes hurt her more than the sun did. it was a chaotic scuffle, born from instinct and the sheer will to survive.

but still, the humans could never hope to endure salt and ice.

with a final thrust, the captain twisted his sword into her shoulder, his life force fading violently as his essence poured down into her throat. she slumped down to the ground, holding the human close as she took in the aftermath of their fight.

the ship was a mess.

blood was splattered across the crates and boards, with the mangled bodies of the three men scattered and sinking down into every crack in the ship, spilling straight down to the sea beneath them. she clicked her locked jaw, and detached herself from her assailant, and hurried to tuck herself away into a half-open crate, whimpering from the pain of the burning sun blisters and stinging silver.

she was not healing.

there was a rustling of sheets somewhere, a great rush of wind, and the doors slammed shut with a loud bang!

she collapsed forward, her eyes bathed in cooling darkness, gasping and coughing as the wood uncomfortably scraped her open sores. she blinked, and saw toji’s crinkled boots in front of her.

her love was perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet, looking down at her with his hands and face clean of both blood and worry. she whimpered pathetically at toji, begging and pleading with her eyes for him to do something, anything.

he sighed.

gently, toji turned her to face him, and tipped her chin back. he pushed the base of his thumb past her parted lips, settling it in between her teeth. he gave her an encouraging nod, soft clouds behind the green of his iris, and pressed his thumb a touch further into her mouth.

she froze.

her fangs grazed his marble skin, and a pearl of toji’s blood spread across her tongue.

what was that look in his eyes?

it was something almost like pride.

she took a deep breath in, and took a long slow drag from him.

she was then lost in a sea of tumbling emeralds. his blood had ignited something feral and dangerous in her, working her up into a wild state as her wounds sealed and smoothed out like nothing had happened. somehow, toji’s lips had found hers, and they kissed and bit each other’s lips in a frenzied madness.

was it all just for a taste?

she couldn’t tell if toji was life or death.

(she was too far gone in her sin and indulgence,

that she could not tell the difference anymore.)

there was something inherently intimate about blood sharing. she could not explain it, but it was more profound than when they fell into each others embrace every night. toji was gripping both sides of her face, her lips bloody and bruised as she tasted herself on his tongue. perhaps it was her imagination, but she felt toji’s soul running through her – raw and angry and full of smoke.

she wondered what he thought she tasted like.

and hoped that he enjoyed it.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

immortality was not truly immortal.

death still hovered over them with his scythe, a mere inch away from their waiting, vulnerable throats. nobody knew that he was there, always watching, never knowing exactly when he might urge his midnight stallion just a little closer.

she certainly hadn’t known it either.

not until it was upon her.

they were on a beach sometime during the summer, a thick storm cloud hanging over the sea and shore. it was a taunting, teasing thing, making her jump as the thunder rolled through her bones and made her marrow tremble.

toji was lounging beneath a lopsided palm tree, its trunk bent and twisted so that its leaves draped to the side and covered him. even when the clouds cover was as thick as it was now, he still opted to stay in the shade, squinting his eyes as if the sun was burning him. he would watch her play in the waves, grunting dismissively when she would teasingly curl her fingers at him, urging him to come closer.

when that didn’t work, she would sing for him.

and the creases and ripples in the marble of his forehead would soften and smooth – only then could toji relax in the sun.

she turned her back to him and the shore, spreading her arms to the heavens as she sang to the jealous sea, declaring how grand immortality and their love was.

but she should have remembered where she was in this unfeeling world.

so loud was the call of the birds on the summer breeze and the waves beating against the sand and her ears, that she did not hear them until it was too late.

those horrid, vicious humans.

they had grabbed her by the arms and legs, with what seemed like twenty men still struggling against her strength. she spat and cursed at them, hissing and snarling as they pressed their silver crosses and flaming torches to her skin, marring her forever.

she wanted to cry, but remembered she could not.

toji’s green flames were upon her, she was sure of it. she could feel his presence was near, and could still smell him and his leather boots through the sour stench of the rotten fish from the townsmen surrounding her.

he was watching.

and doing nothing.

would toji be proud of her in this moment, as he had been when she defended him all those years ago? when she took the lives of those that had threatened him and his peace. she felt the flames soften and knew that he was – he had to be. she was sparing him from the fire and silver, so eager to take his place and save him from haunting the seas.

it was better that toji had not said any sort of goodbye at all, that they had not shared any sort of special last moment together.

but still.

a part of her hoped that he would sweep in to save her. that the part of him that had perhaps loved her could not bear to be parted from her. that immortality was worthless without her love and song.

but she knew that was not in his nature.

he was a survivor, through and through.

(how could it have been love? you were just as blind as i was,

wailed the first woman from long ago.)

she wondered if he would come to her after she was gone, as a stake was driven into her chest, shattering and splintering her ribcage. would he pluck out her heart and suck it dry from all the love it had for him? even though toji had taken everything and more from her, she wondered if he had at least realized he had been selfishly incapable of putting her out of her misery.

“お許しください”

but the fragile, momentous realization she had was that if immortality was true, and she had to choose to relive all of this – toji – over and over again.

she would.

and she did.

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅

if anybody would like to pop into my inbox to discuss the fic and share their interpretations, please feel free to do so! <3

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter five | part one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Sejanus Plinth finds his soulmate in one of the tributes

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i was so afraid to write this, but here it goes anyways, make sure to give me y'all feedback! the chapter is divided in two parts, this is part one!

beta read by the AMAZING @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | navigation

Coriolanus Snow didn't sleep a wink, it was perhaps at six that he managed to finish the backup proposal. He was dissatisfied with it. it wasn't nearly as good as his original ideas, but it would have to make do if you turned about to be a snake.

In someplace in his heart, he knew that you wouldn't take credit for his work. But he also knew better than to believe his heart over his mind. Being foolish and lovesick gets you nowhere.

After an undeserving cold shower and a meal of potatoes and (expired) milk with grandma’am and Tigris. He draped himself in the Academy uniform and went to the Capitol Zoo as there was time before classes began.

He ignored the aching of his legs as he arrived, he ignored the jealousy that brewed when he saw Sejanus get out of his fancy car, arriving a few minutes later Coryo had.

Sejanus was carrying a bag, the weight of it heavy as it was filled with food Coriolanus had instructed him to bring. Despite the fact that he could have sneaked food from the cafeteria solely for his tribute, he felt Dean's eyes on him more than ever. He refused to be labeled as a thief.

Sejanus greeted him with a grin and Coriolanus replied with his greeting. He ignored the way his stomach seemed to contract with the need for more food. He refused to cave in. He and Sejanus walked side by side towards the cage, the blood outside was cleaned but the blood of the district ten girl seemed to be rotting in the confinement of the cage. Filling the surrounding area with a pungent smell that made Coryo want to hurl and empty his stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek to control the urge. Sejanus went to the other side to find his tribute, Marcus, a district two boy who was his ex-classmate. It was pathetic to Snow that after so many years Sejanus still thought of himself as district scum despite being right.

He greets Lucy Gray with a smile on his face. Lucy, with her southern accent, replied, “I am sorry about your friend.” Coriolanus shrugged it off. Arachne was never his friend, but no need to disrespect the death. “Thank you,” he replied politely, as he handed her the sandwich from the cage.

Coriolanus looks at Jessup, district twelve boy, your tribute. He had a nasty bite on his neck. Lucy Gray sees him eyeing the wound and she begins to explain,

“He kept the bats away from me on the train. So I could get some sleep, he was bitten.”

Coriolanus nodded in response, it looked like Jessup was out before the game even began. One dead, twenty-three to go. He hides the flash of joy he feels in his chest and says, “He seems like a good person.”

“He is,” Lucy Gray emphasized, “He doesn't deserve to be here and neither do I.”

Coriolanus didn't want to get into the moral argument so he stayed quiet, thankfully not even a whole minute passed as Sejanus strutted towards them, his shoulders down, his expression defeated.

It took everything in Coriolanus not to smirk at the kick-down puppy.

Sejanus came to him, his eyes glossed with sadness, “Marcus turned the other tributes against me. They aren't taking the food.”

Sejanus Plinth turned to Lucy Gray, “You… Can you help? They might eat if you give it to them.”

Lucy Gray nodded and Coriolanus felt irritated that Sejanus wasn't asking Coryo for permission first, it was his songbird after all. But he didn't say anything and watched the interaction unfold.

That's when the most unexpected thing happened. Sejanus Plinth lets out a sob as he catches the sight of Lucy Gray's wrist, the black ink on her skin, her soulmate number. Coriolanus Snow sees the recognition Sejanus has in his eyes as he looks at the date.

He knows the number.

Sejanus Plinth and Lucy Gray are soulmates.

Coryo got over his shock quickly when he realized the irony of the situation. A mentor and tribute. Both are from the districts but have vastly different lives. A songbird and a boy Coriolanus Snow wished could sew his mouth shut.

Fitting.

He could barely manage the smile off his face but then he remembered you and his burnt wrist. The smirk turned grim, and he was glad that he was not the only one sharing the misery despite it being with Sejanus. Now Sej knew what it felt like, let him suffer, let's see if daddy's money works here.

He tuned out as Sejanus and Lucy Gray talked. Lucy Gray doesn't cry but Sejanus has enough tears for both and Coriolanus wants to scoff. But instead, he puts a hand on Sejanus' shoulder and gives him what he thinks is a comforting squeeze.

“We have to go,” he said, his eyes flashing to Lucy, hoping she was more rational than her counterpart. “There are classes to attend.” Coriolanus Snow refuses to be late and has that on his record. Unfortunately, he can't voice that reason out. “We have to go,” Snow insisted to Sejanus.

“Go,” the songbird encourages, taking Sejanus's hand in hers. She gives him an awkward but genuine smile, not meant for the TV. Something special. “I'll be here,” she joked and it worked horribly as more sobs seemed to wreck the Plinth boy.

Coriolanus gives a pitiful stare to Lucy before dragging the boy out of the zoo and shoving him into the car. He barks the order to drive and relishes briefly at how the driver had flinched. Sejanus continues to cry and despise Snow feels the urge to knock him out. He doesn't. Instead, he runs his thumb over the raised flesh on his wrist and redirects his thoughts to you and yesterday (he refuses to acknowledge the sin he committed at night)

Yesterday was refreshing. Nice company (though his mind didn't seem to want to admit that). Full stomach. And despite the panic attack, he enjoyed it. Enjoyed you. Spending moments with you was rare throughout the years, it took Coriolanus a long time not to retch whenever he saw you. It was better now, he was mature, nothing like the eight-year-old but with the same thoughts nonetheless.

Despite everything you're not worthy of being his soulmate.

Sejanus managed to control himself, picking his pieces up and licking his wounds as they got closer to the academy. As they reached the gates, Coriolanus' hand reached to open the door. Sejanus' voice stopped him.

“Make sure she wins, Coriolanus. Please”

“I will try my best,” was all Snow said in return. Before Coriolanus is fully out of the car, he turns to Sejanus and says, “Buy a guitar for your girl.”

His songbird. Coryo's songbird. His soulmate. Snows’ Victor.

“And keep it a secret, Sejanus.”

He can't let the Plinth boy take the glory when she wins.

NEXT PART

[nessataleweaver]

FIC: By right of blood (Game of Thrones)

RATING: PG

FANDOM/PAIRING: Game of Thrones; Jon/Sansa (implied)

SUMMARY:  Robb Stark’s return to Winterfell has been a long time coming.  But to his dismay, his homecoming is not the welcome he expects.

NOTE: show!verse, but the Red Wedding went slightly differently. It also diverts Sansa’s canon storyline at the same point it’s still currently stuck at in the books, with her in the Vale posing as Alayne Stone. I actually expanded this from a WIP I never got around to finishing back in 2020, so the jonsa is only implied here; let me assure you it’s quite real though.

PROMPT: for jonsa-halloween for their 2024 event, using the October 29th prompt  ‘Came back wrong!’ In this story, that can be taken several ways...

This story can also be read on AO3

Robb Stark, King in the North, couldn’t hold back a sigh as the imposing view of Winterfell broke over the horizon.

He’d been away too long.

“Is that Winterfell?” Talisa asked quietly, from her seat in the carriage that rolled beside Robb’s horse.

“Yes,” Robb nodded happily.  “I have to warn you, I don’t know what shape it’ll be in.  I haven’t been back since before the Ironborn attacked.  Roose Bolton recommended his bastard as castellan, but given that we now know he was behind what happened at Uncle Edmure’s wedding...”

Robb bit his lip to hold back un-Kingly tears.  The only reason Robb, Talisa, and the child that swelled her belly like a full moon were alive was because of his mother’s suspicions - and her sacrifice.  Along with many of Robb’s bannermen, she’d died during what was already being called ‘the Red Wedding’.  Robb had managed to bring home most of the bannermen’s bodies, but he’d left his mother’s remains in a burning boat in the Trident, like her Tully ancestors before her.  Robb and Talisa had already agreed that their first daughter would be named in tribute.

Robb’s first hint that perhaps he wasn’t as well-informed on the state of affairs as he should have been came when he saw Winterfell up close. 

It was... perfect.  There was no sign that the seat of the Starks had ever been attacked, except for a few fading scorch marks here and there on the walls.  It was better than perfect – the Broken Tower had even been repaired.

The second hint was when Beth Cassel came to meet him, wearing a Yi Ti-styled tabard bearing the Stark crest. She swept a graceful, exquisitely correct curtsey.

“As the steward of Winterfell, I greet you, King in the North.” With a respectful nod to Talisa, she added, “and his Queen Consort.”

His third hint came when she offered them bread and salt.

* - * - * - *

Robb was furious, and only barely hiding it.  This was only tempered by an ever-increasing sadness, accompanied by an also-ever-increasing feeling of trepidation.

Talisa had been ensconced in a set of beautifully furnished rooms that Beth had told them had been designated for them whenever they cared to visit, and would be called the Royal Suite in their honour.

It was in the guest quarters.  Not the family wing. Alongside those offered to the few bannermen who’d accompanied him to Winterfell, the rest who’d survived the war peeling off from his entourage to return to their own homes, eager to put matters into place for the approaching of winter.

Robb didn’t recognise a single person in the halls besides Beth.  Every enquiry he made about a member of staff he remembered from before he left received one of two responses:

“He/she died fighting the Iron-Born.”

Or the even more popular “He/she was killed by the Bolton bastard.”

The only exception was Mikken; when Robb had glimpsed a tall, strong youth who oddly reminded him of Robert Baratheon in the smithy, Beth had remarked to Robb’s joy that Gendry had made his way to Winterfell on Arya’s recommendation.

“We don’t know where she is currently, but we’re sure she’s alive.”

This had been followed by a dismal variation on a depressingly familiar refrain.

“Mikken was crippled by the Bolton bastard, so he’s instructing Gendry further while he supervises the smithy, now that the rebuilding is done.  We still have a lot of preparation to do for winter, including expanding the glass houses both here and at Weeping Water castle.”

“Wait - Weeping Water Castle?” Robb knew the Weeping Water river, of course, but wasn’t that right next to-

“The former Dreadfort, your grace.  With Roose dead at your hand for his betrayal, and his Frey wife and last remaining legitimate child slaughtered by his bastard, everyone thought that it was only fitting that the bastard’s wife be awarded the Bolton holdings as recompense for her suffering, and to keep anyone who might have supported the Bolton’s out of the seat.  Even Lady Dustin agreed.” 

“But who is she?”

“The former Jeyne Poole.  The Bolton bastard married her, claiming she was Lady Arya, in order to strengthen his claim on Winterfell.  We’ll need you to confirm her in the position before you leave, as well as confirm that she can hold it under her maiden name.  Given that she’s highly likely to die childless, Lady Jeyne will probably ask you to designate one of your children as the heir.”

With that surprising comment, Beth opened the side door to the Great Hall.  “Please excuse me not announcing you with due heraldry, your grace, but Lady Sansa is in the middle of the Day of Judgment and Appeals.  We prefer not to interrupt the hearings.  I’ll announce you as soon as the current hearing is done.”

Robb stood and watched as Sansa, in an elaborately carved rosewood chair placed on the bare dais where the family tables sat during feasts, presided over the people of Winterfell as if she were a queen. A very good one.  Beth had cleverly avoided answering any questions about what Sansa was doing in Winterfell instead of King’s Landing, and Robb found his curiosity burning almost as hotly as his anger.

Less than ten minutes later, Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell and King in the North found himself standing before his younger sister feeling like a supplicant, trying not to puke at the detailed list of what Roose Bolton’s bastard had done to his people.  Trying to digest the news that his silly little sister, who spoke of nothing but songs, sewing, and suitors, had stolen his rightful place from under him while he’d been avenging their father’s murder.

"I am Lord of Winterfell, and King in the North!" Robb thundered, his voice echoing off the stone walls of their ancestors.

"Yes, you are King in the North, by right of acclamation," Sansa agreed.  "You were chosen as such by your bannermen." Then her expression turned to mirror-blank ice, and her voice became harsh as the depths of winter.  "But you are no longer Lord of Winterfell.  You lost Winterfell to the Ironborn.  You lost it because you trusted Theon, and he betrayed us all. He murdered our brothers, leaving me as the rightful heir.  Then you gave permission for the Boltons to take it.  You approved of that monster coming to Winterfell. You allowed that monster to torture and slaughter it's people.

"So I did what you were too busy elsewhere to do.  I took back our home.  I made an alliance with our cousin Robin Arryn; I brought warriors from the Vale and I freed the people here from death and terror.  Winterfell is mine, by right of conquest.  It's people support my right of blood.  I am the Stark in Winterfell now, and so I shall remain.  After all, I'm the only other candidate. And I have the support of our only remaining family."

Robb looked at her incredulously.  "Wait - Jon?  You went to the Night's Watch?"

A shadow moved from behind Sansa's chair, and Robb nearly jumped out of his skin.  It took several heartbeats for him to recognise the black curls and pallid face.

"Jon? What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the Wall?"

Jon reached for the neck of his black leather jerkin, and slowly unfastened it.  He wore no shirt underneath, and Robb stared in utter shock - not at his scandalously bare chest, but the several livid, still blood-red scars.

How could any man have taken a blade to the heart and live?

"My Watch has ended," Jon told him solemnly, as he re-fastened his clothing.  "I serve the Lady of Winterfell, now."

He laid his hand on Sansa’s shoulder... and something dark in the back of Robb’s mind recognised it as a touch of possession rather than simple support. The Sansa that Robb knew would have shrugged off any physical contact from Jon with a scandalised look.  This Sansa leaned into it.  Jon had always been pale, but now the skin of his hand looked downright ghostly in contrast to the deep blue of Sansa’s gown, the sparkling wolf emblazoned across her chest seemed to dance as she reached up to place her hand on top of his.

"Unfortunately, Winterfell is still being repaired from being sacked twice in as many years, so the King in the North will have to make his royal seat elsewhere, I'm afraid.  Might I suggest Moat Cailin?  It's location is highly strategic, and it's one of the few holdfasts where you won't have to rob a noble family of their home in order to take it for yourself.”

Robb looked around the assorted people in the Great Hall, and realised that he was surrounded not simply by Winterfell’s people, but Sansa’s congregation.  Judging by some of the glares, if he raised a single word of objection or insult to Sansa, he might not make it back to the Royal suite alive.

He would be able to do nothing to regain Winterfell until he left it.

Sansa continued, her voice cool and soft as snow, “I negotiated with the Iron Bank for the funds to rebuild and make the needed improvements, but if you wish to do the same, you’ll have to send your own representative.  I’m happy to provide a letter of introduction to ease their way.  I’m sure you can ask our Tully relatives to help, or leverage your wife’s dowry as security.  After all, you had all the same teachings about marrying to the benefit of House Stark that I did; I’m sure you knew better than to spend one of your most important political assets on a bride who could bring nothing of benefit to our House.”

“And what of your own husband?” Robb snarled.  “I hardly think the sons and daughters of the North will enjoy being ruled by the Lannister Dwarf.”

Sansa’s eyes glittered like icicles.  “You refer to the marriage made under the Seven in a Sept, not by a weirwood by blessing of the Old Gods?  A marriage I was forced into by threat of a sword through the back, before my courses were regular enough for me to be deemed fertile?  That marriage was without my permission, or the permission of my parents or guardian, and unconsummated.  I have already applied for it to be set aside by the Church of the Seven.  Given that my husband is currently under sentence of death for kin-slaying and regicide, I don't think there will be much objection, even if I do not become a virgin widow by the time my application is judged.  Though since half the northern nobility have died in a war you lost by not keeping your breeches fastened, the available candidates for my husband are limited.”

Sansa gave a long look at Jon, standing devotedly by her side.  “Who knows?  The Lady of House Mormont states all her daughters were fathered by a bear, and they are acknowledged by all as her heirs.  Perhaps mine will be fathered by a wolf?

“I suggest you act quickly, my King.  Winter is coming... and very soon.”

AFTERWORD: Robb quickly realised that most of his own support literally died off in the War of the Five Kings.  He never got around to doing anything about Moat Cailin; Robb lost heart after Talisa died in the aftermath of childbirth, followed very swiftly by needing to present a united front for Daenerys Targaryen, deciding that the War for Dawn was more important. He did at least manage joyful reunions with Arya, Bran and Rickon. While Jon got to kill the Night King (otherwise what was that stupid prophecy even for?) Robb still managed to die as a legendary hero, becoming the only Stark to die by dragonfire after shoving a sword through Daenerys to save Jon from kin-slaying. There was just enough left to bury in the crypts at Winterfell, complete with crown. 

Sansa was formally crowned as his successor, the first Queen in the North, with the support of all her siblings. She orchestrated a new golden age for the Kingdom of the North, becoming known as ‘Sansa the Glorious’. Jon finally gained the Stark name as her Prince Consort, choosing to forego the title ‘King’ so no one would get any ideas about Sansa not being the one in charge.

Robb’s daughter Catelyn grew up in Winterfell surrounded by loving family, including lots of cousins always ready to fight anyone who insulted her foreign heritage. As a young teen, Catelyn volunteered to give up any right to the throne in what she saw as atonement for Robb’s mistakes that gave the Boltons the opportunity to cause so much harm. Jeyne Poole instantly demanded to adopt Catelyn as her heiress.  Catelyn became so highly regarded in the North that she ended up holding a tournament to decide her husband out of a dozen worthy suitors from the North, the Vale, the Riverlands and even one of the Tarly’s, becoming ruling matriarch of the Starks of Weeping Water. She later started what was to become the first school in the North devoted solely to the healing arts, open to anyone regardless of birth or gender.  Now called The Talisa Stark School of Medicine, it still operates today.

[gloromeien]

Hellooooo I hope your day is good? Have an ask!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love! <3

Whoo, my first ask! And from the exceptional and lovely @zenaidamacrouras1, whose fic Monoclonius I'm re-reading right now and loving just as much as the first time. An all-time fave, really, with just the best, sexiest, nerdiest Bucky and the sweetest dad Steve. Check it out if you haven't!

But this of course is supposed to be about *my* fics, so let's get started.

Five Favorite Fics That I've Written:

History Repleating (Or the Proper Care and Feeding of One Steven Grant Rogers), Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, kidfic

Summary: Captain America!Steve receives a letter from Dr. J.B. Barnes, Brooklyn Historical Society. Except not quite that J.B. Barnes. This leads to Steve and Bucky having a meet cute via Bucky's work as a history teacher. Smut, fluff, and a smidge of angst ensue.

Comments: This one is, IMHO, the best fic I've ever written. Which is not to say it's good, exactly--your mileage may vary--but I don't think I'm ever going to get to this place again. It was winter 2022. We were all just re-emerging from lockdown. I was in the process of caring for my sweet little corgi girl at the end of her life, and I just needed some joy, you know? Something fun to look forward to. I feel like I channeled a lot of those emotions, that grief, into the Steve in this fic. Though it's not a sad fic by any means! It's full of bad jokes and sarcasm and sweetness and found family and people just caring for each other beyond reason. Bucky here is a bright light that comes into Steve's life at just the right moment, that allows him to believe that he could have a real future with someone to love. I really needed to hear that right about then, and so, as Alexander Hamilton sings, I wrote my way out. For that reason and many more, this will always have a special place in my heart.

Last Exit to Brooklyn, Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, SoulMark

Summary: When Steve Rogers emerged from the ice, he wound up not only in a whole new century, but also with a brand-new soul mark. Knowing that the person he was destined to be with might be just around the corner made it easier for him to settle into a future where happily ever after was a sure thing. Until the Romanian drummer of a 'popular in Europe' heavy metal band, and freight car of personal baggage, come crashing into his life...

Comments: This fic is a confluence of so many things I really, really, really love. Soul mark AUs, for one. I looooooooove those. But I only wanted to write one if I felt like I could bring something new to the table. Once I hit on this particular idea, I knew I had to write it. Also, Tommy Lee!Seb kept me up nights, friends. I loved his look in that so much. As a teen, I had a whole hair metal phase. And it was a fun way to pay a little tribute to Seb's Romanian heritage, so... anyway. I particularly adore some of my Romanian OCs in this--two of them being not so veiled versions of Nadja and Laszlo in What We Do in the Shadows, LOL. Feeling kind of weird about tooting my own horn here, being Canadian and all (Sorry. Sorry. Sorry?) But anyway, they were all really fun to write, even if I think the fic ended up being a little too long and more angsty than I expected. A good thing? A bad thing? You can decide for yourself. ;)

Cut Him Out in Little Stars, Medieval AU, kidfic, arranged marriage

Summary:

Two Houses, both alike in dignity In fair Venora, where we lay our scene

Three years after a brutal, bloody war that saw their formerly friendly queendoms at odds for the first time in history, Prince Steven Rogers of House Grant seeks to solidify the peace between Lehigh and Venora through an alliance--marriage with Prince James Barnes of House Buchanan, his childhood friend turned unexpected enemy. But after years as the Fist of Hydra and a long recovery from brainwashing and torture, Bucky isn't in a place to marry anyone, let alone someone he doesn't even remember. Stubborn to the core, afflicted by tragic losses, and still half in love with someone who might only be a memory, Steve and his family journey to Lynbrooke, the capital of Venora, to attempt to end the tension between their queendoms, and perhaps heal his wounded heart.

Comments: My least-viewed fic by a wide margin, but one that I really love. Playing with the big tropes can be so much fun, and arranged marriage is one of the biggest and messiest. I also rewatched Seb in Kings right before writing this, and it started as a crossover between the world of that series and the idea of arranged marriage. But eventually it took its own path. I have a total soft spot for the Bucky in this one. Probably the most broken I've ever written him. I shy away from Winter Soldier recovery fics--love reading them, will never write one myself--and this is the closest I'll probably get to that. One of the reasons it's close to my heart is because I feel like they really earn their happy ending in this one.

A Slaying in Scarlet, a LOTR Mystery

Summary: On the eve of Aragorn’s coronation, Legolas and Elrohir are charged with investigating a brutal murder at the Citadel.

Comments: My AO3 account is split into two eras. From about 2002-2010-ish, I was heavily involved in the LOTR fandom, specifically writing Legolas/Elrohir, but also a few other pairings, including some OOC pairings along the way. After that, I went off to be a romance writer for a little while (and yes, I'm going to shamelessly plug my Stoker & Bash mystery romance series, because I'm fucking proud of them.) Then watching FatWS knocked me for six, and here we are, all Stucky, all the time. All this to say that my early LOTR work, I am certain, is not good. I have not re-read anything in ages, nor will I ever, most likely. But it was in writing those fics that I found a bit of my voice, and they gave me courage as a writer, and so I couldn't leave them off this list completely. This one is a Sherlock Holmes type deal, because I am also obsessed with mysteries. Hopefully it stands up a little bit. Buyer beware.

A Place to Rest and Remember Yourself (In My Arms), Shrunkyclunks

Summary: It's 2015, and Steve is living in a post-publicly coming out world. His every move is scrutinized in the tabloids and on social media, he's still wrestling with life in the 21st century, and the paparazzi never give him any peace. Making friends who aren't co-workers is practically impossible, let along dating. His solution? Have a regular, no-strings 'arrangement' with one of Natasha's honeypots. Bucky is a former spy and adventurer who used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but left for *reasons*. Having just gotten his heart ripped to shreds by a traitorous ex, he finds the idea of a discreet, 'with benefits' arrangement with his teenage-years crush very, very appealing. But you know what they say about what happens the minute you stop looking for love...

Comments: I wanted to write something quick and fun and smutty as hell for Stucky Week 2023. Instead... *sighs* You'll note that this ended up being 18 freaking chapters long. Why am I like this? I wish I knew.

One of my fic-writing missions is to give Steve Rogers the ending he deserves. The MCU did not treat him or his PTSD right--this is well-established in both fandom and a ton of metas more insightful than anything I could ever write on the subject. But where I feel like I maybe can address this a little is in fic. My aim here was to just spoil Steve rotten. To give him the literal world back, in the form of a Bucky who has serious wanderlust. It was also so much fun to play with Doctor Strange and the whole Sanctum Sanctorum stuff, Layla and Marc, Darcy of course, Nat and Sam. The 'love shield' Steve throws up in front of the press was inspired by Harry Windsor's PR move from many moons ago. My favorite part, about this fic, about writing fics in general, is when love just kind of happens to two people who aren't really paying attention, and suddenly it's everything, and they have to conform their lives to this new gorgeous reality. Anyway that's what I'm going for in every fic I write.

This was more talking about myself than any Canadian should do in a month, let alone a day. I need to go lie down. I don't love tagging other authors in these things, but if @burberrycanary, @bluesimplicity73, @musette22, @leveragehunters, or @dontcallmebree haven't done this yet and feel like it, I would love to read your thoughts on your incredible fics. And you, readers, please don't miss any of their tremendous work. Take it from me, their amazing stories (and Zenaida's) keep many a monster at bay when the night is dark and full of terrors. Big love to everyone out there sharing their creative endeavors with the world! <3

[todomitoukei]

My Hero Academia: Animation Exhibition

Quickly rising from the grave to share some pictures from the My Hero Academia exhibition that is currently being held in Japan!

It's called My Hero Academia: ANIMATION, an exhibition that highlights some of the biggest moments from season 6 through various forms of art. 99.9% of the photos I took are villain only of course but obviously the exhibition features the heroes too. So if you would like to see them just keep reading!

Outside the exhibition were two posters to promote the exhibition. The photo on the left is the villain poster. The photo on the right is the ticket and a character sheet that everyone gets. The character you get is random so I was SO lucky that I got Toga!

Inside the exhibition, they start out with a compilation video of the season. Then, you get to the main part of the exhibition, where they have various ways of highlighting some of the most important scenes of the season.

They start out with a cardboard cutout of a few hero characters before having this screenshot compilation to have you be sad right away.

After that you turn a corner and look... I don't like him, but this was actually such a cool display! The feathers were hanging down on a string so they had actual movements!

Moving on we get to one of my favorite parts of the exhibition! They had a screen where they had a tribute to Twice and Toga, with a screen that played some of their shared scenes accompanied by sad music. Around it were panels of them and pieces of dialog they exchanged was hanging around the screen as well... (the second one reads "thank you for saving me"

I think after that they had some sketches from the season, but you're not allowed to take photos of those so skipping to the better part:

Fun fact: right after this they had the tank Shigaraki is in on the wall as a photo spot and one of the employees pointed at it and was offering to take a photo so I said thanks and quickly escaped to the next part lol. So you go to this small hallway and on the walls to the left and right they had these panels from little Tenko which was suuper cool. I was a big fan of the fact they had all these 3D (is that what you call this?) versions, which made it feel more real.

And going straight you walk right up to him.

Shortly after they had a screen showing Shigaraki fighting against the heroes. Right next to the screen they had cardboard cutouts of Deku and Endvr, and on the left they had cardboard cutouts of Shouto and Bakugou, with light effects choreographed in tune with the music of the fight! I had like a split second to take this shot.

They also had this panel and quote compilation afterwards:

Then, we get ✨the girls✨

And now... moving on to the one and only:

After this short scene introduction they had the COOLEST thing ever and I need to own this for personal reasons. It's a Touya cutout, with LED-lit light to really bring his flames to light. In the background it has the "the past never dies" quote and an image of each of his family members. The light was going dark and bright which was really cool and I took a video of that too but here are some photos:

I was really glad they also included Dadpress!

They had some moments from Touya's backstory highlighted as well, but I HAD to take a photo of this summary, because at the end it says that he is "standing up once more from Shouto and his family's words" - standing up is just not the word I would've used for the guy's pathetic reaction but suuuuure.

Anyway, that was it for the villain moments in the exhibition. At the very end they had this huge Deku figure and I had to take a photo because it looks like he's about to beat me up.

Fortunately, he didn't land a blow so I made it out safely, where I was walking up to see the gang:

And yes, they also had a merch section, where I got some nice stuff!

Overall, it was a fun little exhibition and I was happy to see the villains being included so much. Unfortunately, merch-wise it was mainly Shigaraki, Touya, and Toga but I got a villain washi tape, which has one screenshot of each LoV member so that's super cute!

That's it - hope you guys enjoyed the few photos. It was definitely cooler in person and it was difficult to edit some of the photos due to the lighting in the exhibition, but I hope this post somewhat conveys the atmosphere.

[miki-kaname]

Anime I've Seen in 2024 (New and Old)

New

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Hashira Training arc - 5/10: Too short and over too quickly, really wished they could’ve added more.

My Hero Academia season 7 - 6/10: Tiring at this point, I actually don't care anymore.

Date a Live V - 7/10: It didn't shocked me like everyone else, I've seen heavier shit then this. Still, it's an appropriate finale. I've heard there's like two light novels left in the series. Maybe one day for season 6.

Sand Land - 7/10: The main story is fantastic and a great stand alone series. The second arc is okay. It's good but completely unnecessary.

Bocchi the Rock! movie - 8/10: Cramming a whole season into a two part movie is surprisingly good. Saw it in theaters and I had a good time. So... when season 2?

Bleach: Thousand-Year Blood War - The Conflict - 8/10: So far, it's still great. It's very intense.

Dragon Ball Daima - 8/10: Great story, great characters, great world building, and great animation. The pacing though... cocktease.

Old

Dragon Ball - 10/10: Revisited as myself paying tribute to the late Akira Toriyama, who pass away this year. This series is still amazing and charming. Please watch it and ignore the fandom who hated it for no reason. Your life will change forever.

Dragon Ball Z - 9/10: This was the first time I watched it in the original Japanese version. A completely different experience. I had a ton of fun going through the whole thing again.

Lucky Star - 7/10: At first, I really love how these girls just sit around and talk endlessly. But then... it kept going. Then it got super annoying. And then it got to be not fun anymore. By the time I got to ep. 12, I remember saying to myself," WE GOT 12 MORE EPISODES OF THIS SHIT?" The ending was cringing, I'm sorry, I did not like it. I give it some time and... it wasn't that bad in retrospect, I was just not in the right mood. I'll give it another chance one day.

K-ON! - 10/10: I read the manga a year ago and I greatly enjoy it, so I was looking forward for the adaptation. Unfortunately, an unexpected moment occurred in my life that made me delayed my binge watch. Once I felt better, I finally watched it and... it was what I desperately want: comfort. The characters were great, the music is pretty catchy, and the overall experience was enjoyable. When it was over, I felt sad, sad that it was over. But it did heal my soul.

The Melancholy of Haruchi Suzumiya - 4/10: Surprised I didn't receive hate mail from my opinion of this anime. Why did I really hated it? Haruchi Suzumiya herself. Fuck! That! BITCH! I hated everything about her, she gave me flasbacks to Asuka from Evangalion, who is also GODAWFUL! This anime reminded me why I hated tsunderes, I never felt so much anger in my life. If there's any silver lining, it gave me Yuki Nagato, and Mikuru Asahina is cute. I know there's a movie, but I refuse to watch it.

The Disappearance of Nagato Yuki-chan - 7/10: I got nothing to say about this spin-off, but I like this better then the main one.

Berserk (1997) - 8/10: Finally started watching this classic and, wow, this was not what I expect it to be. I was really into the story and the battle scenes were gory. The ending? Still haven’t recover from that dramatic experience.

Hidamari Sketch - 10/10: You know why I started watching this? I watch the second presidential debate, and it was a total shit show. To get away from politics, I put this on, not expecting what I was going to get. And what did I get? Possibly one of the cutest, comforting, fun shows I've seen in awhile. The girls were great, the animation was abstract, and it was pretty relaxing. I was a bit bother by the ecchi scenes, glad Madoka didn't had that treatment. By the end, you feel like you made friends with them. Or better yet, you became family with them. This is another show that heal my soul.

Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid - 8/10: This one has been on my watch list for awhile, but I'm glad I saw it. Another relaxing show that just happens to have plenty of scenes that goes TOO HARD! Like whole, was not expecting them to throw at me. Everything else is great too.

Yuru Yuri - 8/10: I thought I wasn't going to like this because of how mean spirited it can be. But... not only was this shit funny, but it's also heartwarming. This was a lot a fun.

What to expect next year?

[mollymarymarie]

hi! i just wanted to add to the love and pop in here to express my admiration as well. not only is DYH my ultimate all time favourite fic, not just for wolfstar but in general, but your depiction of them both has influenced my own view on both sirius and remus a lot. the music resonates with me so well too and it adds to the depth of my love and adoration of it, because it really transcends just being a fanfic. it affects my life on so many levels through the story, and the characters, and the music. it’s such a beautiful and well thought work of art, it’s brilliant on so many levels. i ended up getting sirius’s heart tattoo on my knuckle after reading it as my personal tribute to it, and made a holyhead shirt for myself too.

the road not taken as well is one of the fics i keep returning to over and over, it’s such a hopeful and well written story. the characterisations of everyone, and their heartache and pining and longing is so well done. they all have their motivations even though they’re not always the best reasoning but they feel like real people and i can feel them in my chest. and the idiots pining over each other? they’re so frustrating but in such a brilliant way. did i mention the pining? because that’s done just as well and as beautifully annoying in bird set free too, i was yelling at my phone and pacing when i read it. you capture everything in a way that really puts the reader right there in the middle of it. the miscommunications and the way they’re just so stubborn and they end up just delaying wanting the same thing because they’re being stupid about it? and they all have such a bittersweet feeling to the angstier bits, how they’re trying to keep things together and solve everything and the way they worry for each other and how much they care that shines through in them just being remus and sirius no matter the setting or situation or au.

i did NOT mean to ramble this much but i suppose i just want to thank you so much from my whole heart for writing these stories and sharing them with us. you are truly one of my favourite writers and while i’m sad that your journey with wolfstar is over, i also know that i will keep coming back to these fics time and time again (and they’re some of my first recs when people ask for fics) because they have such a big place in my heart. they’re truly some of the best pieces of literature i’ve read and i’m so eternally grateful to you as an author. thank you <3

Oh, friend 🥹🥹 I'm blown away by all this love. I can't really put into words how much asks and comments like this mean to me, but just know that I love you and you are the reason I continue to write, even when things suck ❤️

I know it's not Wolfstar (it's like off-brand Wolfstar) but the original fiction I've been working on has been almost finished for MONTHS. This might be the motivation for me to go back and keep working on it. Thank you. ❤️❤️

[wromwood]

The newest episode of Futurama ("Quids Game") could've been a lot better - and here's how

Today, I watched the (current) newest episode of Futurama, "Quids Game." While it was one of the better Hulu episodes, I still felt dissatisfied by the end. That was surprising; while the story wasn't perfect, it was so promising. I suppose that's why I'm as disappointed as I am.

Fortunately, I think I can pinpoint the sources of this episode's largest faults, and even offer solutions that could, if not fix it, at least raise it into being the promising episode that I was hoping for.

If you've seen "Quids Game" or don't mind spoilers, read on!

So, what went wrong?

While I also have smaller critiques for this episode, I believe its largest flaw resides in how disconnected Fry's childhood experience (losing all[?] his friends after winning multiple games in a row at his 8th birthday party) is from the episode's plot in the present (being forced to play supposedly deadly recreations of those games in a recreation of said birthday party).

This might seem like a paradox. After all, the memories of Fry's past are literally creating the episode's present peril. How could they not be connected? But, on a deeper narrative level, they really aren't.

If you look at it from only present Fry's POV, he's brought back to a recreation of his worst birthday party on his current birthday by malevolent aliens. He and his friends/coworkers/peers are subject to the game, and they all believe that the losers are getting permanently killed as the game goes on. Fry's trauma about cheating comes up occasionally, but whether he avoids it or accepts, people "die" in any case. Finally, he dies after accidentally "killing" Bender while intentionally trying to win. Everyone's brought back to life anyway, there's no comeuppance for the evil aliens, and Fry's only closure for this event is Leela and the others telling him that they believe he's not a cheater.

That feels woefully unsatisfying, especially because only the audience sees the real "twist" of the episode: that Fry's parents were behind their son's "victories" during the party, and they don't even know how miserable they made his son. Without this knowledge, Fry is left thinking he was solely responsible of the events that branded him as a "cheater" to his old friends, with nothing to comfort him but the support of some of his current peers saying they believe he's not a cheater. He didn't really learn or resolve anything.

I kept thinking about the twist of a more successful episode, "The Lucky of the Fryrish," where Fry learns that his brother Yancy stole his clover, but gave to to his (Yancy's) own son as a tribute to his (Fry's) disappearance. That revelation changed Fry's memories about his brother, his feelings about needing the lucky clover. Even though he went back to his "unlucky" life, his choice had meaning and resolved the episode nicely.

Sometimes, you can get around the characters learning this vital information, like in "Jurassic Bark." Fry doesn't know about Seymour waiting the rest of his doggie life for him, and it's so effective and sad that they had to retcon this ending to help me fans sleep at night. However, this is after Fry made a choice based on what he assumed happened to Seymour in the past. It's a bad decision due to dramatic irony (and some logic), but a good one as a character choice. Fry has such faith that his dog would have moved on without him, that he chooses not to clone him out of a sort of kindness, leaving the past in peace.

But there's no such character choice or delicious tragedy (Fry losing his friends just feels crummy, no where near as powerfully and heart-wrenchingly horrible as a doggie missing his owner for the rest of its life) to balance out "Quids Game." Everything kind of happens "just because," especially because the stakes are practically nonexistent. (Of course no one is actually dead! How would you have the rest of the show?)

Here are my proposed fixes...

First, the episode should establish that Fry doesn't just have a strong emotional aversion to being perceived as a cheater. He should also have an aversion to competition. (We're already retconning Fry's aversion to cheating [see how he cheated at poker when he could read minds in Into the Wild Green Yonder]; we can retcon this too, as a treat)

This could actually blend well with Fry's easy-going slacker personality. He's not (just) slacking off due to laziness. It's also due to this inherent fear of competition. After all, the one time he wished he could succeed and tried his best, he was accused of cheating and abandoned by his friends. The success he got from his seven-leaf clover was different; luck always is. He probably counted on the clover's luck to keep people from turning on him or leaving him. But actual effort in a win-or-lose situation? Either he fails and feels that inevitable pain, or he succeeds and people leave him.

Second, Fry should show visible distress every time he moves on from a challenge. With the exception of the birthday candles, he should clearly show he's experiencing dread with each "victory", even though he's winning. He should also show a lot more concern/pain when people die. He's not just beating them: they're leaving him. This will make the reveal that his old friends abandoned him hit stronger.

Third, Fry's parents should learn about how their plan backfired.

Fourth, Fry should learn about his parents rigging every game. Here's my proposed semi-fanfic of a solution:

Pinning the tail on the donkey will be the straw that breaks the camel's back for Fry. He panics, throwing off his blindfold and shouting that he's never going to play: not this game, not anything ever again. To the aliens' surprise and frustration, he runs off into the hallways of the house... and unintentionally, falls into the bowels of their "machine."

Yes, in this version of the story, we see glimpses of the machine from the inside. It's a huge and highly advanced supercomputer, allowing Fry to see its calculations and productions in progress. Fry wanders the area for a bit until he finds an interesting set of calculations. A screen shows memories from his POV: a child-sized first-person perspective. Another screen shows an environment being extrapolated from that data. Fry deduces aloud that the computer must be predicting and generating everything from details extracted from his memories.

He wanders further and finds an area labeled "Irrelevant Memories." One of the projections (a generated image of what young Fry would've looked like at that moment) shows young Fry in the middle of the night after the party. He's tossing and turning in bed, crying in his sleep.

Fry explains aloud that he was so sad that night that he even cried in his sleep. He wasn't fully awake or asleep, but he could hear some of his family talking from behind the ajar bedroom door. We, the audience, hear a few phrases among the muttering: "ruined his party"... "think he's a cheater"... "he can't risk doing anything"

But then the machine begins new processes. Audio isolation, AI detection of words. Suddenly, as Fry stares at the shadows of his parents and brother (the only things that he can glimpse past his bedroom's generated door), he can hear what they're saying.

Yancy, in fact, told his parents, "Way to go, you guys. You ruined Phillip's party by rigging every game!"

Fry has only just begun to process this when more screens appear, displaying AI predictions of how this was accomplished. This is how we see the montage of his parents rigging the games.

"Well, we can't tell him about this," his dad said. "His friends already think he's a cheater. It'd be cruel to take his victories from him."

"He'd hate us for this, I know it," said his mom. "But I can't just have him think he can't risk doing anything!"

"I don't hate you, Mom!" Fry can't help but say to the shadows. And he means it.

Suddenly, the shadows are gone and his mom is by his bedside, holding his younger self. Fry remembers this, but he's staring at his mom in a new way.

As she comforts him, his younger self cries that he'll never make another friend like the best friend he lost.

"But I did," says Fry.

He'll never have people who'll want to throw a birthday party for him like this ever again.

"But I will," says Fry.

What's the point of trying to win if it makes people hate him?

To this, Fry can't say anything.

But then his mom holds his younger self tighter and tells him that it's not important whether he wins or loses. The important thing is that he tries his best to get what he wants. Even if he loses, the effort will be worth it. And in the future, he'll make better friends, and they won't accuse him of cheating when good things happen to him.

"Besides," she adds, "maybe you dodged a bullet by losing friends who'd care so much about party games. After all, none of it's real."

Fifth, the climax of the episode plays out a little differently.

Suddenly, Fry is grabbed by the aliens and dragged back to Pin the Tail on the Donkey. To avoid anyone doing what Fry did, they gouge out the remaining players' eyes. However, as the game proceeds, a strange sense of calm has washed over Fry. Fry rallies Bender's spirits and asks that they win this game together, as best friends.

Then Fry accidentally kills Bender.

But in this version, Bender doesn't call Fry a cheater. He says, "At least you killed me... fair and square..." before he dies.

Fry wails over the body of his friend after he "wins" and gets his sight back. He cries out, "This can't be real!" Then he gasps. "None of it's real."

Fry wrenches his pin out of Bender, then takes out a blindfold, wraps it around himself, and spins around. He lurches towards the donkey, shouting "None of it's REAL!"

... only to get swallowed by the donkey too.

Suddenly, Fry appears in another room inside the machine. All of the "dead" players are there, alive and well.

This is when the truth of the games is revealed: the aliens never intended for anyone to permanently die. They kidnap beings, force them to play to the death in traumatic situations for gambling purposes, then revive them before wiping their memories and returning them to their home planets. The aliens can't risk being caught, but they also can't risk mass disappearances raising any eyebrows.

Fortunately, the presence of the cops (Smitty and URL) prove to have significance: they had gotten a tip about where the aliens would be next, and learned that Planet Express's "birthday" route would likely cross their path. The cops purposefully got themselves invited to the party to travel to this exact part of the galaxy and catch the aliens in the act. The aliens get comeuppance and are transported to jail.

As they return home, Leela apologizes for Fry's birthday being so crummy, what with all the "watching your friends and loved ones die" that occurred. It was probably his worst birthday ever.

"Well, I am traumatized," Fry admits. "But it also kinda fixed the trauma about my last worst birthday ever. So I guess it balances out."

"At least you won your birthday games again," said Leela. "And don't worry. None of us think you're a cheater."

"Well..." Fry shrugs. "I don't think that matters so much anymore. As long as I have you, I'll always be a winner."

And on that corny note, the episode ends.

.... Well, those are my thoughts! Let me know if you agree with my changes or not.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

Today marks one year since Issay's passing. I honestly thought about so many things, how I could honor him, and I thought the perfect thing to do would be to go to the cemetery. I bought him a bouquet of roses,and I decided to place it on some of my favorite poets' gravestones. I thought it would be a great idea, since Issay was also a favourite poet of mine.

I found a quote on one of the stones that said:,, Here lies a heart underneath this stone, when it was living and beating it could only love. Now he's in peace, because he scattered himself among the ones who he loved. " And I found that perfeclty fitting for today. It's okay to cry, and feel sad, but the love he has left us is tremendous, and I think that can ease our pain a bit.

Nothing or no one will ever

Make me let you down

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed

"Kiss them for me" - A song by Siouxsie and the banshees has been playing in my head today

I hope all the poets, and all his loved ones kiss him today in heaven. We fans sadly can't, but instead what we can do, I guess, is to live a life instead that won't let him down. That means a life filled with passion, love, and being unapologetically ourselves, because that's how Issay lived.

Rest easy immortal vampire lord, I hope you have a fun time filled with love up there. I hope you heard the beautiful tribute album so many beautiful souls made for you, and I hope you received all the heatfelt messages your fans sent you. I hope you are surrounded by your loved ones, and can continue to sing with others, like Bowie and Atsushi.

Holding the night, I long to sink down

Throwing everything away, just we two, like this

If we could be forgiven...

One of my favorite songs of Der Zibet is あるロマンティスト達の死 (Aru Romanticist Tachi No Shi)

When I first heard it, Issay's vocal performace made me cry, even though I didn't understand the lyrics at that time. But after reading the lyrics, I cried even harder lol.

Still, I would like to think that today isn't a sad day. I'm glad to have met a true artist like Issay.

All I can say is, 

See you later angel 🤍

[weirdtinkerbellversion]

Just got out of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and I loved it so much but as always, I have thoughts and feelings. So here's the initial observation. FULL SPOILERS for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes BELOW you have been warned.

First of all, I loved the way they organized it and the fact that they kept the 3 acts clearly defined the same way the books did, and the opening scene is brilliant. Putting it at the forefront like that gives you all you need to know to understand Corio later. The acting is phenomenal, the songs (I could die). All in all, kudos. Absolutely brilliant. Now to the things I wish they had done differently.

First, changing the sequence of events in the arena. I understand we're on a time limit but there are details that to me, reading the book, I felt were too important not to put in. Examples below.

One: the fact that Lucy's poisoned water does not kill Wovey, only Dill. Don't get me wrong, they both get the point across and the fact that Lucy is in fact responsible for someone younger and weaker than her dying, but I feel like in the films, they established this stronger connection between Lucy and Wovey in a couple of scenes, including them holding hands as they walk into the games, and Wovey being killed by that bottle would have really pushed things in a way I would have liked to see.

Two: the way they changed Reaper and his behavior and his ending. What I loved about Reaper in the books was his defiance in silence. Everything he did for the tributes he did without ever saying a word, which in my opinion was more powerful than when he yells in the films, but that's a minor detail. What I didn't like was that he was killed by the snakes and we don't get to see Lucy use his graveyard and the flag against him, doing that little cat and mouse dance until he dies. His death in the movie was shot beautifully, with his arms wide, sitting among the dead bodies he compiled, poetic as fuck, but give me the book death because it says so much about both his and Lucy's characters.

Three: this is a more minor detail but I wish they hadn't changed the way Lysistrata handles Jessup's death and his rabies. Instead of her offering to save Lucy by sending all this water, it's Coryo who suggests it out of the blue and Lys doesn't like it.

My second issue with the film is that I felt act 3 was a little rushed in its storytelling. We get all the events for the most part but I felt like they were running out of time and trying to cram everything that happens in these last 45 minutes. For example, we see them hunting the Mockingjays but we never get an explanation, we never understand what they're doing (for viewers who have not read the book). And because of that, we see so much less of this hatred that Coryo has for the mockingjays that is so well set up in the book. We also get the results of Snow's aptitude test out of the blue as well. I wish we had gotten a little more insight into the life that he and Sejanus led for a bit to contextualize everything and to help us connect even more. Even Sejanus' exclusion from the trip to the lake and the relationship with the Covey made me a little sad because those moments in the books helped make the separation and realization of "betrayal" if you want to call it that even more poignant. It helped us see how truly selfish Coryo is and his lack of connection with anyone in that part of his life.

Third, I wish we had seen him throw away his mother's compact and his photos of his family and only keeping his father's compass as he leaves District 12. That moment in the book was so important for me. We see him becoming more like his father and throwing away the things that remind him of his mother and Tigris who were the kinder people in his life.

Anyway, this was a long rant about things that popped into my head while I was watching. The film is absolutely brilliant and I didn't want it to end and I want more songs and soundtracks and I'll definitely be rewatching it when I can.

[idealisticrealism]

TCL 3x07 thoughts (and even more feelings)

Now that’s how you do a tribute. Wow. Even though I was well and truly crying by two minutes in (and probably cried through about half of the episode in total), I actually feel kind of honoured to have gotten to watch that, to feel not only the love that the other characters had for Arman, but also the love that the entire cast and crew had for Adan. And while I truly wish we’d never had to lose either of them, I’ll always be grateful to have gotten such a beautiful goodbye.

Sorry if parts of this come off a little confusing… I had so many thoughts about everything and couldn’t decide how to organise them... in hindsight, probably should have just gone chronologically haha, but oh well. Here goes. 

Thony /Armony.

Honestly I’m impressed I managed to get a whole 90 or so seconds into the ep before the tears started, especially when it opened with Thony looking absolutely wrecked, sitting at a table with a bottle of alcohol, her buddha, some used tissues, and every piece of evidence she has about who was responsible for Arman’s kidnapping… and then for her to just shove it all to the floor and put her face in her hands?? Ugh, my baby. Her conversation with Fi was so devastating from both sides; on Thony’s part because losing Arman has broken something vital in her, and on Fi’s part because she can see the true extent of Thony’s pain as well as the dangerous path that Thony’s heading down (fixating on getting justice/vengeance for Arman rather than just letting herself grieve), and she knows she can’t stop either of them. And ugh then immediately after, when Luca has lost his beloved toy and the writers hit us (and Thony!) with: “That’s okay, my love. Sometimes we lose things and it’s… it’s fine to be sad about it.” Her face as her brain registers the truth of the words coming out of her mouth, even as she knows she can’t follow her own advice… ouch. And speaking of painful, the choice of Thony’s outfit for the wake haunts me; she’s covered head to toe in white (the traditional Cambodian mourning colour), and she’s also wearing the buddha necklace that we’ve previously seen her touch for comfort in stressful moments… I’m certain no one but us and Fi would be able to read the subtle lament of grief and pain that those choices represent. (And yet despite that, Fi still somehow thinks she can convince Thony not to go to the wake of the man she loves?? C’mon now Fi be real here lol) 

But ugh, that big breath Thony takes before getting out of the elevator at La Habana, her eyes closed and hands clutching tight at her jacket? Having to prepare herself to step into this space, his space, and be faced with the reality of his absence? And then even when Jorge tries to intercept her and turn her away for her own safety, she brushes him off and goes straight for Arman’s altar, because lbr, nothing’s keeping her away from this, from him. Her openly saying “We both lost him” to Nadia was honestly a surprise because of how clearly it indicated she was putting them both in the same category– aka both women who truly loved him, both of them made ‘widows’ by his loss??? Damn, that was more direct than I expected her to be. And ugh when she says to Ramona: “All I ever wanted was to bring Arman home” (...) “I need answers too. I don’t know how to move on from here.” I think that statement really captures one of the major aspects of both the episode and of Thony’s character: how utterly lost she is now. When Arman was missing, Thony had a goal to focus on. Even from S1, it was pretty clear that with any difficulty that was happening in her life, Thony could get through it as long as she had something to strive for, some way to keep moving forward. Like fighting to get treatments for Luca (and more recently, preventing CPS from taking him away). Outwitting Garrett and the FBI. Getting Arman free of Kamdar’s debt. Getting Fi home after her deportation. And of course, finding Arman and bringing him home. But now that he’s dead, the ‘difficulty’ that she’s facing has no solution. He’s just gone, and there’s nothing she can do to change it, no way to solve or fix it. No matter what she does, she will never be able to achieve the goal of getting him back. (Yes, I cried writing that). And so that is exactly why, instead of just accepting his loss and letting herself grieve like Fi says, she fixates on the only thing she can do: confirm that Dante was responsible, and then make sure he doesn’t get away with it, even if it means walking straight into the lion’s den and accusing one of their own.

The scene when she stands by Arman’s altar and remembers the first time she came to La Habana was so painful to watch; back then, she came to him to save a dying Luca, and yet only like 4 months later, Arman is the one whose life has been cut short. Thanks to him, though, Luca is safe and healthy, and will likely lead a full and happy life. There’s something so poignant about Jorge bringing the drawing to her right at that moment, almost like it’s a sign from Arman that it’s okay, that Luca’s life was always more important than his own. And honestly I can’t believe that Thony admits what she does to Jorge– that she thought she and Arman would have more time, and that there was so much that she’d never gotten to say to him. Like wow, talk about a love confession?? She knew how she felt about Arman, but had kept pushing it aside, thinking that there would be time for it later; that eventually everything with the FBI and Kamdar and Luca and Fi would settle down and they would have the chance to really acknowledge what was between them. But now that chance is gone, along with everything they could have been, and she's grieving that as well as him. And while it’s a truth that she had a hard time even admitting to Fi, she knows that Jorge will get it, both as someone who loved Arman (and who missed out on a lot of time with him, and had a lot of things that went unsaid) and also as a man who has been through the loss of the love of his life. Honestly, Jorge could save Thony’s life a dozen times over and I’ll still never be as grateful to him as I was for the simple fact that he told her he thinks Arman knew all the things she never got to tell him. (And really, from everything we’ve seen… I think he’s right. Arman knew.). 

That moment was one of many punches to the heart from this ep, and honestly one of the most painful was when Thony is left to clean up Dante’s murder (and in that all-white outfit! Oh no), and she’s frantically trying to get Fi to leave, not only because she doesn’t want Fi involved in this dangerous world, but also because I think she knew she was seconds from completely falling apart and she didn’t want Fi to see it. The wobble in her voice as she says “Everything is fine now. Everything is over… it’s over” and then just immediately breaks down sobbing?? Devastating. Because like I said, the need to make Dante pay for what he did to Arman was the only thing keeping her together and functioning– and with one bullet, it was suddenly done, and what does she have left now?? Just inescapable grief and emptiness in the space that Arman used to occupy in her life. It’s all over now, and that's really highlighted by the fact that the first thing she does after finishing cleaning up the murder is to tell Fi that she’s walking away from the criminal world (mirroring 1x01 when she was dragged into it by cleaning a murder), and then goes straight to Arman’s altar to tell him goodbye. She doesn’t tell him how grateful she is– she’s already told him that, many times over the course of their relationship– but instead, she needs him to know she’s sorry, for everything that had led them here, and for the fact she couldn’t save him. And then ugh, her “I just hope you knew…” and the way her eyes close as a more mournful version of their theme/leitmotif starts to play, and we see all the flashes of her memories of him?? We may not have heard her say the word ‘love’ out loud but we didn’t need to. This entire episode was a love letter from Thony to Arman, her own personal velorio within a velorio. (Not to mention, in this article sent to me by @crwdgoinapeshit, Elodie specifically describes Arman as someone Thony 'loved a lot, if not the love of her life' ugh). And lbr if his parents hadn’t appeared at that moment and interrupted things, she probably would  have finished that sentence, and would have said aloud how much she loved him. But like Jorge said– he knew. He died knowing she loved him, and that she would carry a piece of him with her always. 

Ok I love that despite her having told Fi that she’d be right out in a minute, and having the opportunity to just easily walk away when the drama starts unfolding with Arman's parents, she simply looks at his picture again, and then walks over to join Nadia, like she’s telling him,  “Don’t worry. I’ll have Nadia’s back, and if needed I’ll do my best to keep your family from bringing the place down on all our heads.” And that choice turns out to be a significant one, because she overhears that Ramona’s middle name is Marina, just like the word Arman wrote in the dust– and just like that, it’s not over. She has a purpose again, and she’s not going to stop until she’s achieved it. The leader of one of the most dangerous cartels in the country took the man Thony loved, a man that was supposed to be family to Ramona, and now Thony is coming for her. And if that’s not fucking badass, I don’t know what is.

Ngl, I do feel a little bit like I need to write a scene-insert fic for the gap between when when Arman’s parents leave, and when Thony gets into the car with Fi, because I think there’s a rather important conversation that needs to happen there between Thony and Nadia– both a ‘we need to talk, later’ (regarding Ramona and Arman) and a ‘can I have this’ (regarding the mini caddy), because I would feel bad if Thony just took it without asking, especially given that Nadia herself felt so bad about accepting it from Isabel. But oh my heart, when she sat down with Luca and reminded him about Arman, and pulled out the mini caddy… and then the “I’m sure he would want you to have it” (he really would) and “But no matter what it went though, my friend only loved it more. Do you think you can keep it safe for him?” (Help, there’s a waterfall coming out of my eyeballs.) To watch the ep end with Arman and Thony driving off into the sunset together in the caddy was all kinds of rough… I know a lot of fans kind of wish that that was the ending we had for them, that we’d never gotten a S3 renewal and could instead all just live in a shared fantasy where Arman and Thony got to go on to lead full lives together. And honestly sometimes I feel that way too. But I have also loved and appreciated season 3, and I’m grateful to have had more time with this incredible cast, and also to say goodbye to Arman and Armony in such a beautiful way.

Fiona.

Once again, Fi is very much proving herself to be the Samwise Gamgee to Thony’s Frodo Baggins, from trying to convince her to stop and let herself grieve (like Thony tried to do for her after Marco’s death), to trying to protect her by keeping her from going to the wake, to realising that even if Thony is doing things she doesn’t agree with, she’s going to stand by her. Ngl I did feel for her with Thony’s very blithe “Don’t worry! If anyone’s gonna kill me, it’s not gonna happen at a wake!” because that’s hardly reassuring, Thony! And seriously can you imagine S1 Thony ever saying something like that??? I think our girl has spent a little too much time in the criminal underworld, and she’s starting to get desensitised– and Fi can see it, can see how both that desensitisation and Thony’s need for justice for Arman is leading Thony to go deeper and take risks that could easily backfire on her or their family. Ugh but that moment in the laundry when she really thinks about the lengths that she and Thony would go to for each other, and realises that while Thony is making some unfair decisions in the grip of her grief, Thony would also run straight into any danger for her without a second thought– and so she decides to do the same, because that's who they are to each other.

Honestly I’m proud of the guts it must have taken Fi to go to the wake despite the presence of the cartel and their possible anger about Arman’s death, all so she can be with Thony to support her through this loss. But she does it, because she knows the loss is that immense for Thony. I’ll admit I’m a little confused why Fi would have gone to the loading dock rather than through the main entrance, and while it’s likely literally just for plot reasons, I’m going to explain it as bc she used to go to the loading dock to drop Thony off/pick her up when Thony worked at La Habana. I’m sure Thony probably even took her up in the service elevator one time and gave her a sneaky after-hours tour haha. But ugh of course her taking the service elevator now means that she’s right there as Dante leads Thony out, and in true Samwise fashion, she doesn’t go running for help– she goes to rescue her Mr Frodo herself! Seeing her creeping along armed only with a hammer, ready to take on all 6 foot 3 inches of Dante in order to save her beshie?? What a brave, foolish, wonderful woman. But then Jorge and Ramona appear and she’s too outnumbered to do anything, and all she can do is hide there and listen– and dude, for at least a solid minute or so she legitimately thinks that she just listened to one of her family getting murdered. Like holy shit that’s gotta add a whole new fresh level of PTSD on top of what she already had from her border crossing ordeal. And then for her to stay and help Thony clean the blood, despite Thony desperately trying to make her leave? It makes me think of Thony’s introduction to the underworld in 1x01, witnessing a murder and having to clean it up– Thony had no choice but to be pulled into that world, but Fi does. She can see that Thony is walking straight down the path into Mordor (sorry for the continued LOTR references, but they’re the best I got atm lol) and she chooses to go with her.

And I am so glad of that, not only because Thony is so clearly spiralling without Arman and needs Fi’s support, but also because we all know that now that I can’t have Armony, there’s literally nothing I want to see more out of this show than my dream of the three Mob Queens (Thony, Fi, Nadia) running Vegas lol. Plus, Fi has spent the last 2 seasons being a counterweight of sorts to Arman in the tug-of-war for Thony’s life-path; Thony’s relationship with Arman drew her deeper into the criminal world, while Fi has been trying to drag her away from it. But now Arman is gone, Thony is the one choosing to continue deeper in the underworld, and I think it would be really interesting to see Fi realise that her efforts to pull her away are never going to work, and instead kind of go ‘alright, if you can’t beat them, join them’ and follow her. (And I mean, the thing about Sin Cara being faceless means anyone could take over as the new Sin Cara, and no one need ever know…......)

Nadia.

Ugh, my baby Nadia. She seems so broken, so young and alone. And even with Ramona saying supportive things and calling her ‘my daughter’, her being in the office with Ramona and Jorge does have less the feeling of family support and more like sharks circling, especially when they start questioning her about the FBI. No wonder she seems to panic a little (justifiably, considering that she had Russo in this room only like a week ago!) and so tells them about Thony knowing the meet location– but unlike other times she’s deliberately directed blame at Thony to get it off herself, this time she actually immediately stops and backtracks, trying to defend her. I love that deep down she knows that Thony would never betray Arman like that, because Thony loved him too. And even when Thony shows up to the wake uninvited, Nadia’s immediate response isn’t to get angry or kick her out; it’s ~almost~ even like relief, because here is someone she can actually talk to about what’s going on. When she asks her about the Feds, it’s not because she thinks Thony called them; it's because Thony’s the only one she can trust to help in figuring out how they knew. But then Thony gets frustrated about Nadia telling Ramona and throwing suspicion on her, and Nadia gets frustrated about how trusting Thony about Dante potentially cost them Arman, and honestly I love this conversation so much?? They’re in conflict over Arman, just like they always have been, but now that he’s gone they’re also oddly united, and only have each other to turn to. Thony’s apologies to her are heartfelt, and there’s no force in it when Nadia suggests she leave. Tbh I don’t think she actually knows if she wants Thony to leave or stay, because while on one level she is angry with her, having her there to direct her anger towards is a much-needed outlet; and plus when it comes down to it I think she needs the familiarity and support that comes with having Thony present, especially with the Sanchez sharks around. It’s funny, but Nadia and Thony’s relationship is starting to feel just as sibling-like as the Sanchezs’ to me; that complicated mix of comfort and antagonism that any of us with siblings know so well. (Also ugh Nadia’s “Do whatever you want, you always do anyway” is practically an exact echo of what Arman said to her in 1x03, and I’m not fine at all). 

But regarding Nadia and Thony’s relationship, I think it’s clear that they’re only going to get closer as the season progresses, and one hint towards that is the complete change in the way Nadia interacts with Isabel in this ep. In the earlier seasons you could tell she didn’t like Isabel at all, and hated it when she came to La Habana/around Arman. She was absolutely jealous, because of the exact thing Isabel admits to her now: that she never stopped loving him. Before his loss, that was a threat, just like Thony was. Now, it’s a comfort, a connection that only three people can understand: Isabel, Nadia, and Thony. Aside from maybe his mother, the three loves that Arman had over the course of his life are the only ones who will truly carry his memory with them, the ones that will keep a part of him alive- and at least in some way, they’ll be forever bonded by that. But god, Isabel’s line about not being able to believe he’s gone, about walking into La Habana and feeling like he could suddenly appear from around a corner– that one was absolutely in there for the cast and crew, who have said practically the exact same thing about Adan in interviews. Having lost both the character and the actor makes this episode even more poignant and tragic, and you can feel the love in every aspect of it. 

But sigh my poor increasingly-inebriated Nadia is not making the best calls at the moment, such as running straight to the office to get Russo’s business card (out of its very secure location amongst a bunch of papers in the safe) to burn it right then and there. Not suspicious at all haha.  And of course Jorge catches her doing it, which would have probably been a nail in her own coffin if not for Jorge spotting the picture Luca drew (which Arman kept in the safe, ughhh), and that leading to her admitting the truth of Arman’s love for Thony and the regrets she had about their marriage, and Jorge seeming to realise that she did sincerely love Arman and wouldn’t have betrayed him. And man, does she demonstrate that beautifully when Arman’s parents arrive and the Morales siblings all start fighting, and she’s the one that calls them all out on it and reminds them that they’re here for Arman, and that he deserves respect, not their pettiness. Absolute queen behaviour from both Nadia and Eva, who completely knocked it out of the park this episode. Based on cast interviews, she seems to have been the cast member most affected by Adan’s death, so filming this episode must have been so incredibly difficult for her, but she was beyond amazing. And for Nadia’s sake, as unexpected as her last scene with Jorge was, I was so glad that someone finally thought to give her a goddamn hug!!!

Jorge.

Ugh, hearing Jorge using that soft voice with Thony, and him immediately apologising for not checking in on her, then trying to warn her of the danger from Ramona… like damn, kudos to the writers for managing to take a character I was so prepared to hate and making me like him. Jorge really did love Arman, and has begun to genuinely care about Thony, and I’m sure that it would mean a lot to Arman that his brother-uncle is doing what he can to protect the woman he loved now that he can’t do it himself. But ugh, Jorge’s wonder at seeing the mini caddy again and realising that Arman had saved it from the fire, and then him admitting how much he’d wanted to get Arman back after Eduardo had separated them? That was so bittersweet to watch. Tbh I think he spent years deliberately not thinking about his love for Arman, but then everything surrounding Arman’s abduction and death has brought it all to the surface, and I’m looking forward to how that will affect his choices from here.

For now, his next step is to interrogate Nadia a little to be sure that she didn’t betray Arman (and maybe also because he’s hoping to find Ramona a scapegoat that isn’t Thony??). The initial part of their conversation was actually super sweet though, and omg, learning that Arman wanted to go legit partly so he could help his dad open a distillery? One they’d call Heart of Heaven?? (Or maybe Heavenly Heart? I’m not sure exactly how the Spanish would translate). God, despite his badass exterior, my boy Arman really was just too soft and good for this world. And ngl, Jorge seems to have a bit of that in him too. His next conversation with Nadia– about his own (seemingly rocky) marriage and his regrets about it, and about losing his wife Vanessa– definitely seemed to create a genuine understanding between them for the first time, and I liked that he apologised to her for accusing her. So looks like Jorge now has two women to protect on behalf of Arman. 

Him bringing the drawing to Thony was so kind and thoughtful– partly for just even recognising what it would mean to her, but also for telling her that Arman had always wanted kids and basically implying that Arman would have viewed Luca as his own. In that simple act of taking the drawing, he spared Nadia from the pain of having to deal with it, and he ensured Thony got to have this reminder of Arman’s love, and I’m so grateful for it. Losing Arman– and him learning just how truly she had loved and had been loved by his brother-nephew– has definitely changed and solidified their bond, which is why she trusts him with the arrest report about Dante, and why she dares to even voice the possibility that Ramona could be involved. And though he immediately shuts her down about that, he still takes the report straight to Ramona and challenges her about what they’re going to do about it, showing that he is worthy of that trust from Thony.

But hooo boy, after everything that happens with Dante, and then the showdown with Eduardo, we definitely get to see a new side of Jorge, the frustrated agitation of a man who is starting to question everything he thought he knew. Arman’s death is going to have a ripple effect, that’s for sure, and though Jorge is still being the obedient brother for now and cleaning up the mess with Dante (interesting how Ramona was the one to pull the trigger, but it was Jorge and Thony that were the ones dealing with the consequences and making it disappear) I think he’s going to be doing some pushing back against her as the season goes on, and as he tries to figure out the truth. I couldn’t quite make out what he said to Dante’s body as he was kneeling beside it; couldn’t tell if he was apologising for his fate or telling him it was what he deserved lol!  @prhiswife do you mind translating? Also if you can be bothered translating any more of the Spanish in this ep I would be very interested to hear any or all of it lol. But honestly it surprised me to see him go back to La Habana there at the end, to stop before Arman’s photo and then to seek connection with Nadia about their mutual loss… and tbh, it looked like almost too much connection for a second there???? For a very fleeting moment I honestly thought they were actually heading for a kiss (the crying and the face touching felt oddly reminiscent of Armony in 1x06) and I was like ???? what the fuckkk??? Lol. But I think it was more just him genuinely trying to comfort her, and I'm happy to see the foundations for Thony's team of criminal badasses (Fi, Nadia, and Jorge) developing....

(I mean, it would be objectively hilarious if the show decided to make another Morales man fall in love with both Thony and Nadia, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here lol) 

Ramona.

Loved seeing the sibling tension building over Jorge’s support of Thony, and loved seeing how immediately he defended Thony/how genuinely she wanted Arman back. Like Nadia, he really does believe she wouldn’t betray Arman. At this point of the ep it’s almost a bit of a Ramona and Nadia vs Jorge and Thony scenario, even if poor Nadia and Thony actually want no part in this sibling debate lol, and are in many ways united on their own team. The odd moment Ramona has when she stands from the chair definitely seems to indicate some kind of pain or medical symptom (like dizziness or something) and was very deliberately included by the writers… more clues that she is secretly dying??? But anyway later when Ramona says that with Arman’s death, there’s no reason to keep his ‘accessories’ (aka Thony, and maybe Nadia too?) around, I appreciate that Jorge again immediately defends Thony. He’s starting to see Thony (and soon, Nadia too) as a member of their extended family and I love that.

Okay yasss to this showdown of these two strong, intelligent, determined women, facing off against one another in a kitchen of all places (a setting that has associations with the disempowerment and minimisation of women)…  not to mention that with one all in black and the other all in white, they’re forming the perfect contrast of good and bad, light and dark… the writers made so many deliberate choices here and I love it. These two started out on such uneven ground, with Thony shrinking before the might of Sin Cara, and now here they stand perfectly eye to eye, with Thony daring to call out Ramona’s right hand man as their potential traitor. Daaamn. Seeing Thony witness Ramona’s shaky hand was also interesting– if not for that little ‘moment’ Ramona had earlier in the office, the shakiness could easily have been read as a sign of emotional stress in response to Thony questioning her about Dante, but instead it looks like further proof of the ‘Ramona is dying’ theory… either way, no doubt it’s going to come up between them at some point. Also lolllll at Thony’s “oh come on” expression when she sees Dante kiss Ramona (lol zero chemistry there, sorry guys) and realises she literally just accused Ramona’s boyfriend right to Ramona’s face. Oopsies. I think she might have suddenly been a bit less certain about the assurance she gave Fi about no one killing her at the wake after that?? Lol. But anyhow, now that Thony knows the truth about Marina, the next showdown between these two is bound to be even more epic…

Also it's interesting that when Jorge brings Ramona the police report and the truth about Dante, she makes a token effort to argue with him and say that Thony could be making it up, but within seconds she’s texting Dante to bring Thony down to the dock (given he literally nabs Thony like 30 seconds later). Clearly she’s not the type who hesitates about doing what needs to be done, no matter what it is, including murdering her boyfriend to cover her own ass. This woman is stone cold, that's for sure. But damn look at that Sanchez sibling swagger as they make their entrance, and the way Jorge puts on a little show about saying sorry to Thony, luring Dante into being secure enough to put his own gun away… and then Ramona gives her own little spiel about not taking betrayal lightly while Thony sputters for words to defend herself. Like yes that was absolutely meant to ~build the suspense~ for us viewers (and also to traumatise poor Fi), but also maybe it’s a sign that Thony is being considered to enter the family in a more meaningful way, and a warning for her if she does? 

But oh dude when the Morales family are having their big confrontation and Jorge learns that Eduardo and Teresa begged Ramona to let Jorge stay with them? And that she forbade them from trying to reach out to him?? He’s spent his whole life believing he knows the truth of what happened, to the point where he genuinely hates his own brother for it (and spent years resenting Arman as well) but now he’s starting to realise that maybe he’s only ever been fed her version, and that she may have manipulated him all along?? Oooh, that’s really going to ramp up the sibling tension a whole lot more for the rest of the season. And speaking of which, I saw someone suggest somewhere (sorry to whoever it was, I looked but couldn’t find the post again, happy to credit you if you let me know) that maybe Ramona actually had Jorge’s wife Vanessa killed to stop her from ‘stealing’ him away from her/the business, and oh man that would definitely make things interesting! Tbh atm I’m having a hard time imagining him fully turning on Ramona, even with the truth about her involvement with Arman’s abduction, but if he learns she killed Vanessa… well, that would be something to see.

Jeremy (ugh).

Ngl, really appreciated that Thony’s thoughts seemed to be echoing my own sentiments when I immediately yelled “Oh, fuck off, Jeremy!” the moment he appeared on the screen. Honestly I hate this guy so much, and I hate that even after costing them Arman, he’s still here, still invading their space and their private grief. Given Nadia’s very convenient building explosion and the insurance payout that her new lawyer was able to push through suspiciously fast, and also the fact that Nadia previously told Russo that a cartel had taken Arman, Russo is clearly after anyone and everyone she can possibly take out in the criminal world, and so she’s keeping Jeremy undercover because she knows that Thony is tied up in it all somehow. All Jeremy’s ‘casual’ questions are really grating on me, and it makes me wonder exactly what happened on the cliff after Arman’s car went off the edge… like the FBI were right behind them, so I’m assuming that he and Thony and Fi were all taken in for individual questioning by the FBI? But how would that have worked for Fi, given the FBI knew she was deported like a month ago?? I’m guessing we’re just supposed to ignore that, and to assume that the FBI let them go after ‘believing’ their story. Certainly letting them go would have been the smarter move, because they knew that they had Jeremy right there as a mole to get the kind of information that the women would never give up? But ugh damn the stress of the Velorio situation making Thony so distracted and eager to get away that she agrees to let this guy put cameras up in their house!! Girl, no!!!! Now he has cameras to see exactly who is coming and going from your house, cameras that he can access at any time!! And then omg Fi you also let him access the smoke detector, where he could plant a bug??? Goddamn this guy and his smooth lies-- like how much of that story about his dad on 9/11 do you think was fake? Probably all of it, just like everything else about him ugh. The FBI boys in this show sure do love sob stories about their dads (though at least Garrett’s was true!). But seriously, charismatic as this guy is, could these two stop being so chill about leaving him unattended in their house???? 

Promo spoilers.

Okay I know I don’t usually talk much about the promos for next ep during these recaps, but damnnn it looks so intense that I need to unpack it lol. First, Thony seems to have some kind of nightmare about Sin Cara, and ugh, what if she sees Arman in it? I'm not ready for how she'd react to that. And then the clip of her looking all tearstained (maybe the next morning?) telling Fi “If Ramona had anything to do with this, she has to pay”? Damn, she's really gonna do it, she's going to go up against the cartel version of The Godfather. (And you know what? She's gonna win.) But I’m curious which scene is going to happen first; Thony in the grungy apartment with Jorge and Ramona  (with Ramona telling Jorge to shoot her, and him seeing the ‘Marin’ writing) or Thony coming to see her in the art gallery in that red dress?? (the last time she wore that, Arman killed someone for her. Is this a sign she’s going to return the favour and kill Ramona??). At this point I'm definitely assuming the apartment stuff happens first, and obviously Jorge refuses and doesn’t shoot Thony, and he confronts Ramona about the Marina thing; and so having him sort of on her side (or at least, no longer so firmly on Ramona's) will help her be bold enough to confront Ramona at the gallery. Thony’s comment about the things people do when they have nothing to lose is interesting; I’m assuming it’s directed at Ramona, and maybe about the fact that she’s dying??? (Obviously it can’t be about Thony because she has plenty to lose.) Anyway ugh I’m so pissed about fucking Jeremy somehow weaseling his way into The Cleaning Ladies as well as their personal life?? Can someone please kill this guy already.  One of the clips looks like Thony’s dragging his body across a floor (you can see a glimpse of the light blue shirt on a man-sized body, so it makes sense that it’s him), and too bad we know he’s involved in the filming for later episodes, bc I would have absolutely thrown a party if he died this ep lol. Oh well, there's always hope for Thony to kill him in the finale haha

Anyway I think that's (finally) all for this week, and while it's going to suck waiting a whole extra week for next ep, at least they gave us one of the best episodes of the entire show so far to tide us over until then.

As always, I'm super happy to chat about this show so feel free to reply/send me an ask if you have anything you wanna contribute!

[spideyhexx]

kit's tbosas notes (ch. 6-10)

here are my notes from reading chapters 6-10 of tbosas <3 this includes quotes I particularly picked out/thoughts as I read! if you want to discuss anything, pls send any thoughts!

part one

masterlist

CHAPTER 6

"Besides the poor thing is already attached to me." (Pg. 76) - CORYO! This is him talking to Sejanus when Sejanus mentions trading tributes. This is a crazy thing to say.

I just wrote down that Sejanus' eyes fill with tears in this scene and it made me feel sad.

"It's built into us as human beings...," (Pg. 76) - Sejanus about protecting children. So it's just really blatant (it was already but this strengthens it) how different Sejanus views the world in comparison to Coryo, but like there are definitely moments Coryo's thoughts align to Sejanus' ideals? Hm.

Bread Pudding was one of Coryo's fav foods.

"your own father used to say those people only drank water because it didn't rain blood," (Pg. 77) - That's fucking wild. Ouch! Grandma'am to Coriolanus, here.

Crispus Demigloss - History Professor

"With the exception of Livia Cardew who made it clear she thought he had cheated and should be dismissed as a mentor immediately..." (Pg. 79) - Livia just has a bone to pick with Coryo, I can't believe he marries her like I get it but god, she's annoying.

Festus is in Coryo's inner circle 'since birth.'

"Always so loud, always socking people..." (Pg. 82) - this is about Arachne and I just thought it was funny.

I really loved the classroom scenes and seeing more of the other mentors/Coriolanus' peers, I think that would've been helpful in the film in terms of understanding the type of environment Coriolanus is in since he's known them all pretty much his whole life.

"He wanted to reach out and touch her face, to tell her that things were going to be all right," (Pg. 86) - Coriolanus about Lucy Gray.

Lucy Gray says she had two older siblings! She also tears up when talking and says bread pudding is also her favorite. Something I've had in my mind as I read is how genuine Lucy Gray is being, like...I feel as though she really is a bit of a mystery? I think she finds Coriolanus amusing at this point but also leans into the fact that he's the only one that can truly help her in this scenario? So she's using that to her advantage as well? Idk, someone talk to me on that hgdghd

'"Married?'" "'Why? Are you asking?...Because I think this could work.'" (Pg. 86) - GOD THIS KILLED ME, their flirting in the book is honestly so much better. Tom and Rachel have the chemistry to pull it off in the film, but some of this dialogue is way too good, I wish they kept this exchange closer to the book. Also he blushes.

Coriolanus ignores her flirting which is hilarious.

Coriolanus refers to Lucy Gray as 'my girl,' in the discussion to Gaul and the class. (Pg. 92)

"He was tougher than he looked, Sejanus Plinth," (Pg. 93) - I believe Coryo thinks this after Sejanus is basically talking back to Gaul about the inhumanity of things and here's this rare moment of Coriolanus admiring him.

"He was no common citizen -- he was a mentor!" (Pg. 95) - funny coryo, just this little bit of a role and superiority is already getting to his head.

"He gave a wink and a wave of the hand, " (pg. 95) - Coryo does this to get a little boy to come over and give food to Lucy Gray. Found it endearing and hilarious.

Mother of Pearl handled knife is what Arachne has (and is killed with?) what does mother of pearl symbolize hmmmm

CHAPTER 7

"He remembered the cameras streaming live to the Capitol audience," (Pg. 100) - this is at the moment of Arachne's death and wow. This part and Coriolanus' attempt at helping comes off so much more heartless here than compared to the film. In the film, it just feels like it's his instinct to help, but here he is actively thinking about how he's gonna be seen and how he doesn't want to be seen as weak for being terrified and staying back.

Coryo walks Clemmie home after this all :(

"That's how it was with him: The wash of blood, the whiz of bullets, the screams in the crowd all caused flashbacks to the worst moments of his childhood. Rebel boots pounding through the streets, he and the Grandma'am pinned down by gunfire, dying bodies twitching around them...his mother on the bloodstained bed...the stampedes during the food riots...the smashed faces, the moaning people...," (Pg. 101) - this entire section is crazy and really adds so much weight in the context of scene, why he handles it the way he does. Feel like it's this type of stuff that makes it so easy to connect him to Katniss. Idk, I feel like this passage is insanely important in understanding his trauma and that's been clear before this but wow.

Man he HATES Livia.

"near scalding water...," (Pg. 103) - hot shower Coryo to deal with anxiety, same!

"A painful sobbing made his chest ache, but then it passed, and he wasn't sure if it had to do with sorrow over her death or unhappiness over his own difficulties," (Pg. 103) - ouch! I think it's both reasonings, but even Coriolanus is unaware of his actual feelings.

"He felt strangely detached from the action, as if all his emotional reserve had been depleted by his brief outburst in the shower," (Pg. 105) - his handling of Arachne's death really shows how desensitized he is. He can't handle his more overwhelming feelings well.

Hippocrata Lunt - School Counselor

"In rhetoric class, she'd once attributed his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem to the fact that he was too self-absorbed. The irony, coming from Livia, of all people!....Coriolanus to the rescue, Livia to the nearest exit," (Pg. 105) - funny Coryo but also this feels like a slight foreshadow as to how Coriolanus interprets Lucy Gray's songs?????

"It seemed pretty cold to scratch her name off the list like that," (Pg. 108) - am glad you have this moral view Coryo.

I really like Clemmie & Coriolanus' friendship, I wish we got more in the film. She's so nice to him :(

Also they nailed how the snakes look in the film, like that is OFF THE PAGE

"Hello there," (Pg. 110) - funny coryo

Interesting that Coryo puts his hand in first in the book! Also little to no hesitation! Huh.

CHAPTER 8

"Pus dyed bright pink, yellow, and blue dripped down her fingers," (Pg. 114) - That's cool tbh, wish they did this in the movie!

Coryo barely thinking of Clemmie right after the bite is a little funny.

I think Coriolanus learns about never lying from Dr. Gaul (like later once he's being mentored by her)

"Ghoulish section of the lab where the glass cases housed humans with animal parts grafted to their bodies," (Pg. 115) - I kinda wish this was more included in the film, there's so many grotesque things Suzanne describes that are so cruel and I wish they had the balls to include them in the film(s) because...wow.

Coryo dropped to the curb after getting out of the lab :(

"It was like the Hunger Games. Only they weren't district kids," (Pg. 116) - SUZANNEEEE THE IRONY THIS IS FUCKING INSANE, this is Coryo about how his classmates are getting hurt/dying and I just. The layers in this small statement are crazy.

Coryo pockets the hospital crackers.

He goes to the hospital for Clemmie, but I can't tell if it is out of his guilt or own kindness over Clemmie? Like it feels definitely like a mix, but he's also deeply overthinking about being blamed.

"Afraid of Dr. Gaul. Afraid of the Capitol. Afraid of everything," (Pg. 116) - see stuff like this is where you can come back to the base idea that Coriolanus is a product of his environment. He is just a kid too. I was taken aback a little over the afraid of the Capitol line. I'm coming to understand that when Coryo is experiencing more overwhelming emotions, he's somehow more...moral? At least right now. He feels the most 'normal.' I don't know there's a lot to say on this quote but this is what I have rn.

The only person he wants to talk to about what happened is Lucy Gray.

Pg. 120 is very interesting. He's with Lucy Gray, he's apologizing for the situation she's in, wishing he was like Sejanus, worrying that she's hating him. I'm conflicted, like does he mean this? I think he does because of the emotional state he's in, i'm just always questioning him fdkghdj. Lucy gray tells him not to quit, but obviously that's stemming more from her need of him to survive this, I assume?

"'You matter to me,' he insisted. The Capitol may not value her, but he did. Hadn't he just poured his heart out to her?" (Pg. 122) - Coryo has a sense of entitlement here, like what I'm gathering is he does mean those words towards her, but he's almost expecting something in return?

And with that above in this section Lucy Gray is described as seeming distant. She's not giving in to his admission? Idk, this whole part was odd!

Grades or Glory, Coryo they go hand in hand for you.

"Usually he avoided Persephone altogether, because he could never help wondering if she had known the ingredients of her wartime stew," (Pg. 123) - funny coryo

CHAPTER 9

"'Snow lands on top,' he said with so little conviction they had to laugh. It made him feel a bit more normal," (Pg. 126) - oh! Coryo and Tigris :(

He only starts to eat his food because it would please Tigris :(

Grandma'am pokes Coryo in the ribs while he practices singing for Arachne's funeral. Literally leaves bruises.

"'Tigris? I just remembered, I can't really sing.'" - (Pg. 127) - FUNNY FUCKING CORYO

"Coriolanus thought it was quite a display for Arachne, disproportionate to both her life and death, the latter of which could have been avoided if she'd refrained from being such an exhibitionist," (Pg. 128) - this really shouldn't of been funny but I did laugh.

Brandy's body on a crane is absolutely wild and again, should've been in the film! idc how dark it is, it gives such a direct message.

"He tried to imagine conducting himself under those circumstances, until he realized this was undoubtedly what Sejanus was doing, and snapped out of it," (Pg. 130) - that's crazy. Also this is the first Sejanus mention in a bit and it being this is so funny and also extremely perceptive of Coryo. He understands Sejanus through the general lens of 'empathetic, passionate but weak through that,' way.

"Maybe her gravestone could read, 'Casualty of Cheap Laughs,'" (Pg. 130) - CORYO

"Several people took the pained look on Coriolanus' face as sorrow at Arachne's death, when ironically, he felt like killing her all over again," (Pg. 131) - CORYO!!!!!!! That's actually really insane of him.

"'I hear we're having pie,'" (Pg. 131) - OH EVIL, this is Highbottom to Coriolanus, like this is after Highbottom ruined him eating pie at the reaping, WHAT THE FUCK

"Let the poeple talk. The chief mourner needed sustenance," (Pg. 131) - this is funny, but it's also really sad because he's justifying filling his plate more to himself than others.

"His usual gift for self-control was eroding," (Pg. 131) - yeah this is. Important.

"He wasn't crazy about the guy, but he didn't particularly want to see him punished,"" (Pg. 132) - this is about Sejanus and I can't help but think Coryo is really like. Always reiterated he's eh about Sejanus, he doesn't want to be like Sejanus, like it feels like he's repeating this a lot? And that's interesting. Like he's trying to convince himself of this.

"This further display of Dr. Gaul's callousness made him feel mutinous.He glanced over at Sejanus's plate," (Pg. 133) - oh my god, the immediate sentence about Sejanus after 'mutinous'????? Insane.

Coryo trying the turnstile back after he's gone through it (Pg. 135) man is so perceptive.

"Jittery mentor on a questionable field trip," (Pg. 136) - this is funny.

The ENTIRE page 138, Lucy Gray and Coryo's dialogue is just so good. Their flirting. He's so flirty! Coryo making fun of her silly expressions and Lucy Gray making fun of his vocab like.

"For a moment he laughed, forgetting where they were, how depressing the backdrop. For a moment there was just her smile, the musical cadence of her voice, and a hint of flirtation. Then the world exploded," (Pg. 138) - this is a beautiful little passage but god. The lightness in some of these convos with Lucy Gray and Coryo was missing from the movie. They got it in a few but the book really hammers in their flirtations so much better.

CHAPTER 10

"As the horrifying realization that he was burning to death overtook him...," (Pg. 141) - thought of Katniss.

Also he knew on instinct how to react to the bombs :(

Lucy Gray went back for him. the mental implications of her literally saving his life...that thing about him wanting to feel a certain love again...

"I'm not alone, he thought. I'm not in the arena. I'm safe," (Pg. 142) - Ironic a bit.

"'You missed bomb time,'" (Pg. 142) - CORYO

God the amount of deaths from the arena explosion hits so much harder here, much more gruesome in description too, ofc.

Coryo sticking up for Lysistrata when Grandma'am makes comments (Pg. 144).

"It's just the kind of story that catches fire," (Pg. 145) - HAHAHHAHA SUZANNE!!!

Vet for the tributes...yikes!

"If Clemensia died, would he disappear as well, the only witness?" (Pg. 148). Oh. Okay this feels very foreshadow-y as to what happens with Coriolanus later.

Sejanus brought him meatloaf sandwiches :(

"People were always saying he resembled his handsome father more every day, but for the first time, he could really see it," (Pg. 149) - Just jotted this down because of the father mention.

Pg. 150-151 - Coryo's thoughts bleeding from caring about Lucy Gray's state to himself and if he looked weak, that's all literally showing his mental complications through his stream of consciousness. It's a long quote, so I can post it separately but yeah. Interesting!

Sej's Ma sent casserole :(

"The truth was, he owed her everything," (Pg. 153) - I think that makes him uncomfy. Idk. But he says it multiple times that it's like...owing her.

"Chained girl, boy offering food," (Pg. 153) - This honestly made me think about Peeta giving that burnt bread to Katniss.

"He would always be in her debt," (Pg. 153) - Yeah, this is interesting, I don't know what to make of it yet. But I think he means this.

Lucy Gray says "I hope so too," in regards to Coriolanus saying he hopes he can repay her. and I just felt. hm.

"You could start by thinking I can actually win," (Pg. 153) - Lucy Gray is a lot different in this scene, she's almost impatient, to the point, not playing around and not as jokey or flirty as earlier. It's difficult to analyze her character through the eyes of Coriolanus but my perception at this point is that Coriolanus amuses her, and she's maybe intrigued by him, but of course she's more thinking about the games. And how he could help. He's an advantage. He's proved that without even trying.

[bots-and-cons]

That time of the year again...

This is pretty much purely a vent post, so if you don't feel like reading, don't. I'd like to start with saying that I'm in a larger scale okay, and this too will pass

I remember writing a similar post around the same time last year. I guess this is going to be a repeat thing, at least for the next couple of years. My grandma died in June 2020, and I honestly don't remember much from around that time, probably because of the depression and general bad times. I found an obituary from the first of July that year for my grandma, and I'm pretty sure the funeral was somewhere in the middle of June. It honestly wasn't as hard on me as I had imagined, probably because even though she was alive, she had been gone for a long time already. That of course doesn't mean it wasn't hard or that it didn't make me really upset for a long time after she passed. She was one of my favorite people in the world, and I loved her dearly.

Two years later on the first of July in 2022 Technoblade's passing was announced by his family on his YouTube channel. I had started watching him in 2019, which was the time I was badly depressed, suicidal and actively self harming. I was still in high school back then and would be until the end of May in 2021. It was a bad time for me and his videos were a big source of laughter, which was a rare thing for me at that time. I don't remember much from that time tbh, but I remember watching the potato war videos and having a genuinely good time, even if it was only for that 20 minutes. I originally heard about Technoblade from my younger brother, and we also bonded a lot over his videos. His videos brought us closer as siblings and we talked a lot about a new video whenever one was published. Techno's videos and streams helped me through a lot of tough times, which is probably why his passing was so hard on me. The two years since his passing, I always get recommended tribute videos and memorial stuff like animatics people have made around this time of year. I've been crying my eyes out for pretty much every night again for about the past week. I've just not been having the best time recently.

Another thing I've been thinking about because of the anniversary of Techno's death is that I'm going to be 24 in a bit under a week. Techno died when he was 23, he was so young. I don't really know how to articulate how I'm feeling about this, but confusion is probably the best word. I don't know how to feel, how am I even supposed to feel? The world isn't fair, it doesn't matter how amazing of a person someone might be, cancer doesn't discriminate. Shitty things don't care how old you are or how much good you've done, they will come all the same.

Anyway, I guess I'm just feeling stressed and kinda sad. My summer courses suck and I hate that I took them in the first place, it's just constant stress, and I'm annoyed all the time. I'll survive, even if what I'm currently feeling sucks ass ＞﹏＜

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

Extra commentaries for "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

a work that creates a metaphor for the loss of the artists partner by AIDS. There's a mass of candy equal to Ross at a healthy weight and gallery visitors are invited to take pieces of candy, dwindling the weight of the work to mirror Ross' drop in weight as his illness progressed. (cesiousblue)

I had to just kind of sit there trying to remember how to breathe for a few minutes after seeing it for the first time (courfeyracs-swordcane)

The themes of consumption in this work really get to me. It can be made by anyone, using the instructions of the artist, collecting a number of pieces of candy that weigh a total of 175 lbs, the weight of his partner who died that same year. This art hits me like a brick. (envelopedbyoblivion)

untitled (the one with the pile of candy) especially fucks me up bc of the extremely varied interpretations of it. my art history teacher told me that it represented someone spreading joy through ppls lives. a friend of mine said they viewed it as someone deteriorating due to aids-related complications. et cetera. either way it just feels so emotionally intense. (anonymous)

so this isn’t going to be articulated well especially since I’m not that familiar with conceptual art but I’m gonna try because I think it’s so incredible!!!! For a long time when I was younger I dismissed art like this and many pieces that fell under the modern art umbrella because I couldn’t really see the value in like, a dot on a piece of paper or what seemed like a random object placed in a room that someone decided was art for no particular reason. I never examined it and kinda dismissed it for being “low effort”, but this piece completely changed my mind and I was like holy shit I get it now! To elevate the seemingly ordinary, a pile of candy, into something so heartbreakingly meaningful, a portrait of his lover Ross who he lost to AIDS, is so meaningful! I feel like that’s so often what grief is, not the delicately crafted tributes that remind you of who you lost, but the ordinary objects that suddenly become imbued with so much meaning and sadness because they remind you of what’s been lost. It’s not to say that it’s not a delicately rendered portrait, because it is! But it’s like, not a portrait in the painting sense? It’s a snapshot of living with grief, without it it’s just a pile of candy, but when you carry that grief it becomes so much more. Another thing that I really like about this piece is that to me it’s less like a typical visual art piece and more like a song kinda? and as someone who was unfamiliar with conceptual art before seeing this, I think that’s so cool!? There is no “original” or one canvas that is The Art. If you place a pile of wrapped candies that weighs 175 pounds in a room, you now have “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.). I realize a lot of conceptual art is like this, but this piece opened my eyes to that. I want to say more about the meaning of creating art that can persist anywhere when so many artists effected by HIV/AIDS were silenced or diminished, and how this piece also uses the audience in a really interesting way, but this is already way too long (sorry for rambling!). I really recommend reading up on this piece and it’s history. (anonymous)

A popular compliment/comment on art (at least in my tumblr circles) is 'i want to eat this art' and often it is illustrated or worded in a hedonistic tear into it wildly and animalistic eating way and thats great but this art is one I want to take one single 'bit', and let it savor on my tongue, put a hand on my stomach and think about how thankful i am to have gotten this bite. As a queer person its one of this installations i cant think about to long and not cry. I am young, too young to have lived through the AIDS crisis (as in the crisis of governments actively working against their people). Its an interactive piece of art and this kind of art always make me crazy the most (of course all art is interactive. the act of looking changes stuff already as we know from physics. looking and thinking about it is interacting) - you are invited to take one of the candy bits symbolising Ross. and on one hand that may sound horrifying to eat away a person who already had so much taken away, you take the part of the sickness of the government neglect. But as a queer person interacting i think about how matter never really goes away, things just transform. You take a piece. You eat it or share it with someone and you remember. You make him part of you. Queer community lost a lot because of AIDS but not all is lost, this work and others like the Quilt are remembrance, the galleries are stipulated to have the pile replenished - so Ross stays 'alive' and able to share bits of his history with people as long as the art work remains - and that makes me emotional (anonymous)