There's no rule that says Coriolanus Snow can't be a romantic and a gentleman to his girlfriend while at the same time as being an evil dictator villian with the blood of millions of teens and children on his hands. He can be both. It makes him more intriguing that he can be both. That he has empathy for a certain number of people, but can't spare more than that(I headcanon that he was a good grandfather to his grandchildren)
PREACH!
If things had gone slightly different in canon, I’m convinced Snow would’ve had a loving marriage while still becoming the villain we know in THG. After all, his decision to forsake romantic love after the events of TBOSAS is in itself a testament to the depth of his feelings for Lucy Gray.
Love doesn’t equal redemption or goodness, and the fact that he’s a fundamentally selfish person in a position of power doesn’t mean Snow isn’t also capable of human emotions and attachment. Especially when the prequel makes the opposite argument. I agree with you that in canon he seemed like a loving grandfather even as he reached unheard of levels of cruelty as President.
His innate possessiveness would on the contrary make him a very doting and protective husband (to the right woman, sorry Livia). Whether the relationship would have stood the test of time (and of his thirst for power) is another matter entirely. Most AUs where Coryo and Lucy Gray go back to the Capitol and he goes into government have her betraying him in the end, and I also think that would the most likely outcome. Theirs is a monstrous love, etc etc
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this might be silly question but ive missed some lore i think… how does lorelai fit in to the blythe/raha situation? i feel like ive never seen her around before so idk her place in things
She is not part of the relationship (As she is a Lesbian), but she travelled with Raha prior to Blythe meeting them (Both of them have very different story arcs that tie up neatly with a little bow with their dynamic - that and I wanted something FEEL GOOD OKAY). She has a separate story, one that is more-so developing (including possible relationship). She is EXTREMELY close to them though, and there is almost a familial, platonic love dynamic there. It's not quite just friendship, and not a romantic relationship, but a sinister third thing.
I debated making her part of the relationship at first, but settled on this instead because I like to explore different concepts with characters, and with her I wanted to work through the stage of defining your identity, of your preferences, and stepping over the boundary of your own self-consciousness and inexperience to explore new experiences and relationships, something I couldn't really do with Blythe as her story focused more on having this identity be shaped by society around her.
Vampirism is a metamorphosis of your body, from one state to another (a concept I explore with Blythe too) - but where as Blythe views it as a traumatic event that has left a stain on her, Lorelai doesn't have an issues with Vampirism in of itself, she doesn't mind the new state that her body is in, but rather is going to the growing pain of getting accustomed to it, and how it impacts her as a person (so working through a trauma and acknowledging it rather than denial vs your new defined identity and how you navigate the world based on it)
Lorelai is meant to be seen as almost floundering without knowing what she wants, and having a hurdle of fear and inexperience with the Big Wide World to step over ; this odd period of adulthood where you don't quite feel *adult*. Blythe grew up too quickly, while Lorelai feels as though she is lacking as an adult and as a woman. A similar theme can be found in 'My Lesbian experience with Loneliness' by Kabi Nagata.
Another post I made about Lorelai's Deal is linked here!
I keep forgetting that people can't read my mind and just see what I have to say about these characters without posting it 😭
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Martha Jones - Jesus Christ parallels (never thought i'd write a sentence like this)
there's the other one who has sent me
For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken. I know that his command leads to eternal life. So whatever I say is just what the Father has told me to say. (John 12:49-50)
Very truly I tell you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life. (John 5:24)
I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me. (John 5:30b)
I have much to say in judgment of you. But he who sent me is trustworthy, and what I have heard from him I tell the world. They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. So Jesus said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him. (John 8:26-29)
[...] for I have come here from God. I have not come on my own; God sent me. (John 8:42b)
etc., and so on...
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The Warrior and her Death
here's my little Poe-inspired contribution to the verna x madeline fandom because i'm feeling poetic and because i'm a bitch for metaphorizing everything i see through epic AUs. and if you like it, it's also on ao3
So then, in ruins of the world,
a ruthless warrior comes forth:
an ancient sword is tame and quiet,
well-fed on what was once desired,
but useless now.
No shame or crown.
The golden helmet's flying down,
revealing hair, an ashen mane,
that winds are tangling with rain.
'You win,' she says. Her bitter voice
is all like cracking on the walls.
'I'm old, and grey, and soon to die;
you win. From you, I shall not hide.'
A joyous laughter springs with flowers
that only bloom in deathly hours.
'I didn't know we were at war,'
says she, whomafter, there's no' more,
and gently strokes the ashen hair
away from eyes, touch light as air.
'Old! what a courage there must be
to call you old in front of me.
As new as stars. I watched you burning
the brightest gold -
with pain, with yearning -
and here you are at last, my love.
Be not afraid, but look above:
between the dying and the falling
the stars live but a single moment,
but how you lived!
I've missed you, child,
as beautiful, and strong, and wild
as I remember you. Come near.
Where there is love, there's never fear.'
A touch again, of gentle passion,
warmth on a cheek, as though confession,
a breath as sweet as songs of larks,
and in-between, it all grows dark.
And so, among the paling flowers,
the warrior remains for hours,
for days and decades neverending;
her sword and helmet rusting, fainting,
yet nothing touches withered lips
blessed with a smile,
and deathly kiss.
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