dude. you know that poem that’s a conversation between a person and god, and god keeps repeating the line “i am asking you to endure it”? i haven’t put it on this blog because it feels kinda rude to blorbo tag something like that, but i cannot think about htn without thinking of that fucking poem. [N][arrow] [is] [the] [str][ait]. I am asking you to endure it. it’s so very harrow the ninth.
turns out op is deactivated anyway, but here’s the poem, for anyone who hasn’t read it:
“I’ve loved you two,” she said. “Not well. Not even wholesomely. I don’thave it in me. But I’ve loved you—in a better world I’d be able to say, ‘Likeyou were my own,’ but I don’t know what that would even mean anymore.You’ve been my agents … you’ve been stand-ins for something I haven’t hadfor longer than either of you can understand. Which is why I’m saying—don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”
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Pyrrha tugged her wrist free of Palamedes’s hand. She reached down, andtilted Camilla’s chin up, and looked at her for the longest time. Then sheleant down—she kissed her brusquely and briefly on the forehead—and,startlingly and even more briefly, on the mouth. Nona, who even then couldnever ditch the lessons of the hand and the mouth, watched that kiss and feltvery sad. It was like watching Pyrrha stealing something she didn’t want totake—reaching out for the juicy, cherry-red part of the oven, even when sheknew that all it could give her was a burn. And Nona saw Camilla, with hercold, navy blue mouth, and could tell that Camilla understood.Camilla said, “Could you try not to be such a chicken hawk, Pyrrha?” Pyrrha reached out, ruffled the perfect hair of the body of Ianthe Naberius,and leant in to briefly kiss Palamedes too—Palamedes said, tolerant andamused, “You are an appalling old roué, Dve,”—and Pyrrha said, “Call me if you need me. Otherwise, see you around.”
No, like. The line immediately after “crown him with many crowns” is “as saints before him fall”. Like yeah haha puns bc Corona means Crown and Corona’s new name is Crown. But specifically that line. Immediately followed! By the promise of saints kneeling before the crowned. but also ‘fall’ has connotations of a) love and b) death. Cainabeth and Abella…….
yeah attaining lyctorhood means living with the eternal pain of having killed and eaten the person you loved the most but have you ever had a joint that just won’t pop? a lyctor could pop every single joint in their body at once without even thinking about it. so you know. there’s pros and cons. all im saying.
Love how when tasmyn Muir wants to write an gorgeous unreachable powerful sexy women it is like “she’s 7’ feet tall with long blonde hair and a mean look” and to differentiate them they’re all at various levels of healthy
Corona: healthy strong thick thighs full head of hair
Ianthe: literally just bones always sopping wet in either water or oil
If I had a nickel for every time the (anti-)heroine in the East Asian fantasy-inspired series I read this year was born in a peasant family but fought against their upbringing and then eventually gave into darkness and ascended to unimaginable heights of power I’d have four nickels which etc etc
“You’re going to die spewing your own lungs out of your nostrils, having failed at the finish line because you couldn’t help but prattle about why you killed innocent people, as though your reasons were interesting…”
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