thinking about roma "what is a montague?!" montagov and juliette "there are italian communists!" cai
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@romiettes
thinking about roma "what is a montague?!" montagov and juliette "there are italian communists!" cai
just something i made just now :3
Juliette :
Roma:
Benedikt:
Marshall:
Alisa:
The Chloe Gong Do It For the Plot Thing is so funny to me because like.
“Please Juliette pretend to be my wife so that the prostitutes stop bothering me. For the plot.”
“Hello I am going to kiss you on the mouth so that we can steal this wood. For the plot.”
“What if we made out in the abandoned imperialist newspaper office building. For the plot.”
“What if you pretended to be a prostitute to throw off the people chasing us through the hotel. For the plot. Jkjk unless.”
“Let’s pretend to be married again. For the plot.”
“Hey Phoebe. I need you to beat the shit out of me. For the plot.”
The king's games are over, now the palace games begin.
PRESENTING THE SEQUEL TO IMMORTAL LONGINGS, AND BOOK 2 IN THE FLESH AND FALSE GODS TRILOGY... ✨VILEST THINGS✨ coming September 10, 2024.
it's filled with angst, it's off the walls insane, and it's driven by toxic love and power-hungry politics... all the juicy stuff necessary for something inspired by Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, of course, and I'm so excited for you to read it RAHHHHHHH
Brace yourself for both US and UK covers to be revealed (truly out of this world gorgeous) and preorder links are slowly making their way out but you can add to Goodreads in the meanwhile to prepare for the drama to come <3
OFFICIAL DESCRIPTION:
Calla Tuoleimi has succeeded in the impossible. Despite the odds, she has won San-Er’s bloody games and eliminated King Kasa, her tyrant uncle and the former ruler of Talin. She serves now as royal advisor to Kasa’s adopted son, August Shenzhi, who has risen to the throne.
Only Calla knows it isn’t really August.
Anton Makusa is still furious about Calla’s betrayal in the final round of the games. In an impossible feat, he took over August’s body to survive, and has no intention of giving up this newfound power. But when his first love, the beautiful, explosive Otta Avia, awakens from a years-long coma and reveals a secret that threatens the monarchy’s authority over Talin, chaos erupts. As tensions come to a boiling point, Calla and Anton must set their conflicts aside and head to the kingdom’s far reaches to prevent anarchy… even if their empire might be better off burning.
I feel like we as a fandom under appreciate the fact that Marshall and Juliette have scheduled gossip sessions
I’m so obsessed with how much of a loser Orion is like his pov literally opens with him being like I’m sooo hot and everyone wants me then he just. Immediately starts crying blood and vomiting sludge over his parents’ divorce like ok king whatever you say. Then he goes and calls his boytoy twink malewife best friend who is five years younger than him to drive him around because he’s 22 and never got his license. Then you hear about his life prior to the start of the book and it’s somehow more pathetic like this man cried to his friends (his little sister and the other previously mentioned loser) for a solid month because his boyfriend broke up with him when he never had a boyfriend literally just the random ass guy he hooked up with never called him back or something. And then on top of all of this he genuinely unironically listens to blank space by Taylor Swift, interprets it entirely uncritically, and thinks that he relates to it like pLEASE-
benedikt montagov I miss you where are you benedikttttt
Full offense but I’d die for Benedikt Montagov since I am 100% in love with that man
@chloegong how r there so many ideas in ur little brain like how do u do that
Marshall and Orion having back to back birthdays oh the possibilities for chaos are endless BEST believe those bitches have joint birthday parties and are annoying as fuck about them
Chloe didn't even try to be subtle with their bestie potential...
Marshall and Orion having back to back birthdays oh the possibilities for chaos are endless BEST believe those bitches have joint birthday parties and are annoying as fuck about them
roma used to TALK OUT LOUD while writing his private letters. to his girlfriend who was part of a rival gang. in the huge mansion he shared with his family. oh he's so stupid <3
orion hong is such babygirl material and I hope someone has called him that at least once in his life
Rosalind Lang really is the character of all time. afraid of the world while wanting so desperately to be loved by it to be loved by something by someone, to be loved in a way that matters. she will die for love and she almost does, it almost ruins her. so she deprives herself of it, as punishment and as salvation, decides that it's not worth the damage, and she gives herself no mercy, taking on the weight of more than just her own consequences and doesn't cut it loose even as she uses her pain to do something good, to make things right. she was so young and so alone in a world where she was just something to sparkle, something to be used, and of course she'd be desperate for something more, but she doesn't give herself the luxury of pity or forgiveness over that vulnerability. and it's absolutely devastating to be inside her head because you just want to grab her by the shoulders and make her believe that she is good and worthy of something tremendous and that the weight of the world (or her city) is not her burden and she deserves to rise from the ashes of her past. she's just so...
i have about 150 pages left of fhh and if Benedikt and Marshall aren't here I'm going to throw a fit
I'm SO happy
MARSHALL AND ORION HAVING HOOKED UP I AM. CACKLING.
I need a deep analysis abt alisa's grief after ove, I want to know everything abt how she felt
Alisa was thirteen.
I feel like that's something we forget a lot (at least I know I do), because yes, Roma and Juliette and Rosalind and Celia and everyone else are all teenagers/very young adults, and they all have their own tragedies, but for one second, imagine being Alisa Montagova.
Imagine being thirteen and living in a world made of violence and vengeance and gunfire. Raised in the rafters of your father's stronghold, hiding in the shadows from men taller than you, older than you, stronger than you. Imagine knowing everything about the world around you and knowing you will never be able to fully join it.
Imagine being thirteen and relying on your brother, older than you and yet so young. Imagine watching silently as he throws himself into the madness and the murder of Shanghai, as he and the Scarlet heir are forever locked in their dance around each other, as the violence grows and grows around you and all you can do is grow smaller and stranger and hope it never sees you.
Imagine being thirteen and mad, thirteen and held hostage, thirteen and watching your brother become a stranger, thirteen and kidnapped, thirteen and suddenly you wake up one day and your world has crumbled around you, Cais and Montagovs becoming Nationalists and Communists, the lines dividing the city redrawn in the blood of gangsters and workers, but your brother is back and you're all leaving all of this behind.
Until you aren't.
Until he isn't.
Imagine being thirteen and your brother, your family, your best friend, is gone, gone as soon as you turned your back on him, devoured by fire and flame and his own courage, and he may be dead, but he still holds you firmly by the hand and begs you to stay.
Imagine being thirteen and staying to please your brother's ghost, even though everyone you have ever loved is either worlds away or six feet beneath your feet, and you can't tell which is worse. Imagine realizing that even though the world is different, you are the same, and you can sell your secrets and your shadows, and make a new life for yourself, and if your brother gave his life for the hope of a better future, you may not be able to bring him back, but you can damn well make sure his sacrifice meant something.
Imagine being thirteen and running down a riverbank, chasing a boat, tears blinding you, and you don't know if it's grief or happiness, so you just stop and cry. Imagine a tiny ember of hope, lit within you one spring day, brighter and hotter than the explosion that took your brother. Imagine being fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, holding that hope and coaxing it into a roaring flame, yet trying not to think about it, because if you think too hard, it will blow out, and you'll be nothing, not even shadows. Imagine throwing yourself into old allies and new mysteries, always running, always looking around corners and hiding on rooftops, doing everything you can to stay one step ahead of the past, and not thinking about your brother.
Until one day, you tear around a corner blindly, and there he is.
And you're thirteen again.