Duomo di Milano (Lombardia, Italy) by
Adam Parrish & Ronan Lynch + the mask
It was becoming a nightmare. Ronan could hear the night horrors coming, in love with his blood and his sadness. Their wings flapped in time with his heartbeat. He wasn’t in control enough to drive them away.
Because Adam was the horror now. The teeth were something else, Adam was something else, he was a creature, close enough to touch. To think about it was to become immobilized with the horror of watching Adam be consumed from the inside out. Ronan couldn’t even tell where the mask was now; there was only Adam, the monster, a toothful king.
In the pale gray dining room, Adam was taking a wooden mask from a hook on the wall.
Ronan hurled himself through the air.
The mask clattered to the floor. Adam, startled, stared at where Ronan’s hand gripped his wrist. Ronan could feel his own heart pounding and, in Adam’s wrist, Adam’s.
“Don’t,” he said.
"Dad always said this town could wreck a person. It’s what happens when you play a rigged game. I convinced myself winning meant getting out. But in what world do you get to leave the ring and declare victory? This is where I belong. In the fight. It’s who I am. I’ve rolled around in the mud for so long… wash me clean and I don’t recognize myself. So, how about I just accept the mud? And the tendency I have to find myself rolling in it? My name is Veronica, and I’m an addict."
NYC August 2014
The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater
Cape Disappointment, Washington
I’m a Lady Santigold
“This thing about your mother…” | “It doesn’t matter,” Arya said in a dull voice. “I know she’s dead. I saw her in a dream.”
Arya and Catelyn parallels (suggested by this anon.)