Fitzcrozier - Sin Eater

god loves you, but not enough to save you

The way Aegon desperately wants to fill the conqueror's armor, even when it's evidently too large for him to fully take up. He looks like a boy slipping into his father's coat, a boy whose idea of his father as this invincible figure, who he can never quite reach, is destined to be popped some way or another.

Aegon isn't the only one who clings to the idea of the conqueror as this ideal. His shadow looms large over all of House Targaryen, this almost mythical figure whose legacy all Targaryen try to claim for themselves. They chase after his ghost, believing that to truly be a Targaryen, one must be like him: ruthless, powerful, and above all, victorious. They forget—or perhaps choose to ignore—that his victories were bathed in blood, that his crown was forged in fire and brutality. His legacy is a cursed throne, a throne that cuts most who sit upon it, a throne that pits people against each other.

Generation after generation, Targaryens name their children are after him. Aegon. A name dripping in history and blood and crushed dreams. They hope that this name will bring with them the strength and glory. A babe born to me, wearing the Conqueror's crown. But these hopes are often dashed. These children are caught in the endless cycle of violence that defines their bloodline. They keep meeting more and more horrific fates—murder, madness, betrayal.

The prophecy that the Conqueror himself used as justification for all the blood he spilt, the prophecy so many Targaryen feel like is theirs to fulfill—the promise of a hero who will save the world—only serves to further the rot. This prophecy, ever so vague and open to interpretation, is a way for them to give purpose to the endless wars and the pain. The Conqueror was no savior; he was a man driven by ambition and thirst for power, a man who saw kingdoms as prizes to be won and people as obstacles to be removed. He was a man who saw himself to be superior to others on the basis of what flowed through his veins.

Annie: There are legends of people born with the gift of making music so true, it can pierce the veil between life and death; conjuring spirits from the past...and the future. In ancient Ireland, they were called Filí. In Choctaw land, they called them Fire Keepers. And in West Africa, they were called Griots. This gift can bring healing to their communities. But it also...attracts evil....

Sinners (2025)

u heard about doomed by the narrative now get ready for doomed by my mum and her coven of space eugenics cult sisters thru their 10k year long breeding program. duned by the narrative if u will

Annie Ling, 81 Bowery, New York, 2011.

caught between a rock and a hard place (my hometown and the rest of the world)

idle town, conan gray / dead poets society (1989) / california, chappell roan / anne carson / unknown / ribs, lorde / paul revere, noah kahan / my tears ricochet, taylor swift / richard siken / little women (2019)

The Court of the Lions at the Alhambra, Granada, 1916. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.

i've come to realize there are only two kinds of tragedies: preventable and inevitable. preventable tragedies are the kind where everything could have maybe worked out if only. if only romeo had gotten the second letter. if only juliet had woken up earlier. if only creon had changed his mind about antigone sooner. if only orpheus hadn't turned around.

inevitable tragedies are the kind where everything was always going to end terribly. of course macbeth gets deposed, he murdered his way to the throne. of course oedipus goes mad, he married his own mother. of course achilles dies in the war, he had to fulfill the prophecy in order to avenge his lover.

both kinds have their merits. the first is more emotionally impactful, letting the audience cling to hope until the very end, when it's snatched away all at once leaving nothing but a void. the second is more thematically resonant, tracking an inherent fatal flaw in its hero to a natural and understandable conclusion, making it abundantly clear why everything has to happen the way it does.