#Gideon would definitely do that!!

[happygirl2oo2]

[liesmyth]

yes yes “the Earth is Gideon’s Nav stepmom” this is correct. but DOES Gideon Nav know that the frozen corpse her girlfriend has a crush on is her own stepmother? more importantly: is “hot stepmom” a popular category in Nine House skin mags?

because if it is. this is how alecto/harrow/gideon can still w— [sniper]

[beedreamscape]

The "You guys need anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know! God, I love ya" scene but it's John and griddlehark

[harrowing-of-hell]

Per HTN when we learn of the fight Gideon and Harrow had before Harrow opened the tomb, the current theory for how Harrow got in is because she had Gideon's blood on her hands.

This explains how Harrow got in once. It does not, however, explain her other visits to the tomb.

Harrow says in both GTN and HTN that she visited the tomb multiple times in order to get past the traps. So unless bloodwards will continuously allow you entry so long as you've been able to past through them once, how did she get into the tomb those other times?

Because Harrow, even at the age of 10, definitely isn't dumb enough to leave evidence that the tomb was ever opened or tampered with. So the bloodward wouldn't have been tampered with at all (and presumably, she can't tamper with it because it's the magic of God, which we know from what Pyrrha says in NTN when Palamedes tries to mess with the God's magic holding Kiriona's body together).

This would mean the she not only opened the tomb and rolled the rock away once, but multiple times.

With that in mind, I genuinely still think that the bloodward was tampered with from the very beginning by Anastasia, which seems very likely since we know she helped create the tomb. Meaning that Gideon's blood was never the only way of getting into the tomb; the blood of the Tombkeeper would've also worked because the Tombkeeper line has Anastasia's DNA.

This would also explain how Anastasia's bones ended up in the tomb. We know she establishes the Ninth and has children, so she presumably wasn't sealed in the tomb along with Alecto.

This is still all speculation and I can't wait for ATN. I NEED to know more about Alecto and Anastasia's relationship!!!

[chaos-has-theories]

Absolutely devastated to learn that I was misremembering a specific detail from HtN.

She was glad to see that someone—maybe his mother, the mawkish Sister Glaurica—had painted his face as his father had once painted his own, with a solid black jaw to represent the Mouthless Skull. This was not because she had any especial love for the Mouthless Skull, as paint sacrament went. It was merely because any jawéd skull he affected became a wide white skull with depression.

For some reason I was convinced that Ortus exclusively wears the Mouthless Skull. I thought I remembered a discussion - or at least an implication - that he does it deliberately. He knows what happened to his father. He never speaks of it until he starts suspecting that he's dead, and may well die a second time. It would not be too surprising, if he'd at least suspected the truth about the creche flu. I thought -

I thought it was a deliberate act of rebellion. Something like civil disobedience. Look at me, it seemed to say. I am silent. I am silenced.

But no. He wears the Skull of the Anchorite Dying (whatever that means) at the arrival to Canaan House.

Oh well.

[lightofmyblight]

wow I have a lot of followers on this blog

if you like lesbianism but don't mind/crave Fucked Up Shit, may I recommend The Locked Tomb?

[errantgoat]

Replayed Elden Ring once again, this time with a bonk build (Fun times, I think it's the first time I made a 100% strength based melee character.) Went for the Age of Duskborn ending, pretty randomly I suppose, just to check this particular box. Didn't focus on complete exploration this time around, because...

DLC IS COMING. NO DATE YET BUT IT'S COMING. I am thrilled!! :'D I'm saving Harvey for when I know the date, I shall put him through the game as thoroughly as I can when the time comes.

[undeadbutch]

just finished harrow, am left bewildered and eager to learn more in nona when i get my hands on a copy

[ferretsarefurryappendagedsnakes]

Thinking about Harrow staying up ALL night planting her bones, putting literal sweat and blood into this little show for Gideon (because she was definitely showing off for her subconsciously in their little fucked up way) while thinking herself so cunning and probably laughing to herself maniacally all “this will show Griddle”

And how the whole thing boils down to proving to Gideon “you’re mine, you can’t leave me.” which is toxic of course but we know means something to Gideon because it proves she’s important to Harrow, and then THIS passage right here:

And it goes on to say how Gideon thinks it’s a trick, because there’s no way Harrow would do that, right? Regardless of the fact of it being weariness or not, the thought of Harrow actively letting her go brings an immediately negative reaction from Gideon. Because she is important to Harrow, and that’s important to Gideon.

They make me crazy.

[katakaluptastrophy]

I want to continue pushing my 'Magnus Quinn wasn't actually a terrible swordfighter' agenda.

Obviously, he wasn't on the same level as professional duelists Babs or Pro, or soldiers Marta or Jean. He was a guy who did some kind of fencing in high school and then picked it up again in his 30s, presumably with some degree of seriousness.

When Gideon joins the other cavaliers in the training room, Magnus and Jean are sparring. He jokes about how badly Jean is beating him, but he must have some degree of competence for aspiring soldier Jean to find him worth training with. Babs then mocks him for getting beaten by a teenager and Magnus jokes, describes himself as "absolutely no good", and praises Jean's abilities...before giving Babs such a death glare he gets obviously embarrassed.

It's worth bearing in mind that there's some degree of tension between the Third and the Fifth. Babs will have know Magnus since he was small and has almost certainly seen him fight before. But the Fifth, their relationship, and the relative freedom that Magnus has to not be a perfect fighter (because his necromancer values him as a human being) is clearly something that rankles the Third. In TUG, when Ianthe talks about Babs, she explicitly references Abigail and Magnus. And what's interesting is that she makes a comparison not just between Abigail's husband-with-a-sword and her perfect tool to be moulded and used, but also to Corona's aspirations to swordcraft:

IANTHE (Playing a card) She’s not here, so let me be fully honest, Sextus: my sister is not a swordswoman. She loves to wear big boots and wave a sword around, and she looks wonderful doing it, but her actual competence … well, put it this way: she’d lose to Magnus Quinn.

PALAMEDES Magnus Quinn was a cavalier primary.

IANTHE No, I mean Magnus Quinn now.

There's...a lot...to unpack here: the comparison of Corona to the husband-cavalier is intriguing in and of itself on a psychosexual level, as is the contradiction between Ianthe and Corona's own versions of Corona's competence. But Palamedes' response is also interesting, suggesting that Magnus was up to an acceptable standard for a cavalier, which Ianthe's joking response seems to back up.

So Babs' rudeness towards Magnus and Jean may have a lot to do with the internal dynamics of his own necromancer-cavalier relationship and not necessarily be an accurate reflection of Magnus' abilities.

Likewise, Judith's comment in the Cohort Intelligence Files that the Fifth is 'undoubtedly chagrined" to have "schoolboy fighter" Magnus representing them had to be read against the fact that we know from the Sermon on Necromancers and Cavaliers by Second House stooge M. Bias that the Cohort has a very low opinion of unranked "social cavaliers". And Judith Deuteros may have her own reasons for being disdainful of a cavalier who is so...cavalier...about his intimate relationship with his adept.

Magnus' own self-deprecating comment on his ability is:

"I didn’t get to be cavalier primary due to being the best with a rapier. I’m cavalier primary only because my adept is also my wife. I suppose you could say that I—ha, ha—cavalier primarried!”

But again, there's a difference between becoming cavalier primary because you're the best sword fighter and getting up to a vaguely competent level once you've become cavalier primary (guys in their 30s with high powered jobs tend to be scarily into their hobbies...) He is definitely the worst cavalier there (or would be, if Pro were actually alive), but on a general standard he probably isn't as terrible as people like to joke.

Another important bit of context here is that all of his comments about his own ability occur in the context of Corona trying to get him to fight Gideon. The shy, silent 18 year old from the cult planet whose practice of cavaliership is generally acknowledged to mostly consist of carrying buckets of bones.

She gets paired with Magnus because they assume she's not going to be much of a fighter and Magnus - neither a professional duelist nor a soldier - would therefore be the fairest opponent. Magnus is clearly uncomfortable. And Gideon is certainly Intimidating. But when you consider that most of his previous interactions with her have been trying to coax her out of her shell and clearly feeling rather sorry for her, his comments take on a bit of a different tone.

Does Magnus worry Corona has dragged along this poor kid out of interest or curiosity, and that she's going to be humiliated and never want to interact with them again? As Corona says “Come—Gideon the Ninth, right?—why don’t you try Sir Magnus instead? Don’t believe him when he says he’s rubbish. The Fifth House is meant to turn out very fine cavaliers," Magnus is politely dissembling, telling exactly the sort of jokes that would appeal to a teenager.

As everyone else mocks or is intrigued by Gideon's knuckle-knives, Magnus is trying to look her in the eye through her sunglasses, bewildered that she doesn't know to take off her robes or glasses to fight and then...suddenly realising that she is dead serious and perhaps he has dramatically underestimated her.

After his defeat, we hear him saying to Jean "I'm not quite that out of form, am I?". Gideon's abilities were totally unexpected: she severely tests a top duelist like Babs, and Magnus is surprised to be beaten in three moves. That suggests he's been holding his own rather more comprehensively in previous sparring.

And while he certainly wasn't up to Gideon's standard, he may have managed to draw his sword before Cytherea took him out...

[abigail-pent]

HTN Act Two thoughts upon ??th reread:

- what Harrow actually says about her conception in this book is: "My parents gassed fifty-four infants, eighty-one children, and sixty-five teenagers, and harnessed that thanergy bloom to conceive me. My mother used the resultant power to modify her ovum on a chromosomal level, so thanergy ignition wouldn't compromise the embryo. She did this so I would be a necromancer." This is extremely interesting, especially with respect to the question of "is necromancy canonically genetic." It reads to me like the genetic modification to the ovum happened to protect the embryo from being destroyed through exposure to so much thanergy. The way I read this, necromancy is not genetic but rather epigenetic: exposure to outside stimuli causes genes to express differently than they otherwise would. The genetic changes are about ensuring survival.

this is completely consistent with what Harrow says about it in GTN. note that in the GTN pool scene, Gideon says "You can't just control whether or not you're carrying a necro" and Harrow replies "Yes, you can, if you have the resources, and are willing to pay the price of using them." I think if necromancy were just a matter of genetic modification, all the other Houses would be able to get necromancers on command, thanks to their superior fetal care tech. and then it wouldn't seem so obvious to Gideon that necromancy occurs randomly (or conditionally randomly).

- John says the ovum that became Harrow "ought to have been obliterated at a subatomic level" when Pelleamena and Priamhark modified it. Hmmm.

- "nobody has the right to know! nobody has the right to blame you!" oof wow uh. projection much? and like. I do agree that nobody has the right to blame Harrow for what her parents did, but they absolutely should hold them responsible... it's been said before but this is such projection and it's so bullshit

- when Alecto says: "you don't fear dying. you can tolerate pain. you are afraid that your life has incurred a debt that your death cannot pay. you see death as a mistake." and Harrow says "what else is it?" and Alecto says "I don't know" OOH. OOH. and like from Harrow's own letter to herself it's clear that she does view death as a mistake and a failure, an inability to finish the work. and her work isn't to become a Lyctor, it's to restore the Ninth and, I think, to restore Gideon.

- "Beloved, what were my eyes like?"/"She asked me not to tell you": so at some point before the lobotomy, Harrow managed to communicate with Alecto, even though the Harrow whose narrative we get via Gideon says she only walked with the Body for a year. Was Alecto visiting Harrow even during GTN?

- Ianthe says she carried off Corona's con, which is interesting that she assigns Corona ownership over it

- Augustine says "I should chuck things in the River more often. There's no way that could come back to haunt me" which feels like a pretty clear sign that something that's been chucked into the River will definitely come back to haunt them. Could it be... Augustine? Ulysses? Colum? The Tower, which is rising from the River and has for sure been haunting everyone with its tongue guys made from ten billion unfed ghosts? All of the above?

- Augustine says "you've formed a bond with [your body] through habit and genetics", which helps the soul adhere to the body... you know, like a revenant would do. Which is of course cuing me to think once again about Silas/Colum and the Eighth breeding batteries, or Harrow/Alecto and the strength of their bond. It seems like one function of the genetics in the bond between Silas and Colum (or the Tridentarii, or Alecto and Harrow) is that it helps you call a soul *to* you. To me this is another point in favor of the "cosmic Tridentarii walkie talkie" theory and the "Harrow is a descendant of both Anastasia and Alecto" theory.

- like when the soul goes bungee jumping in the River, the tether is made of anything exposed to its thalergy and thanergy before or after death (and gets stronger the more exposure there is), AND genetics.

- I know I've posted about this one before but - Augustine says Mercy has shot her bolt too many times and rendered herself unlovable; he says she was interested in trying to kill Lyctors; he says these things to her and, in the second case, in front of John. who did she try to kill?? I don't think it would have been Cassiopeia, but other than that I really don't have a good guess. Could be Augustine or Gideon; could have been Cyth if she asked Mercy to kill her and end her suffering. we don't have enough info about Cyrus or Ulysses to say.

- John says Gideon the First has "made a pact with an authority I have no power to gainsay to protect me from all dangers". This can only be Alecto or Pyrrha - probably Pyrrha- but if so, wild to think of the Pyrrha we know asking this.

- it is so funny how Ortus hates Protesilaus on sight

- many have noted this before but Gideon the First is described very much like Protesilaus was in GTN

[playingdxngerous]

Relaxation Break

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!

Warnings: smut, hand kink, unprotected p in v, oral m! and f! receiving, digital penetration f! receiving, some teasing, use of the word sir, some pet names, shared hotel room, cussing, spencer reid x reader, begging, probably some more small ones that i'm forgetting, me actually not proofreading whatsoever

first spencer reid fic, be nice to me guys

.

.

.

Sharing hotels with the BAU team was something you easily got used to as the job went on. You usually like to bunk with another girl, not wanting to have an awkward experience with someone like Gideon, for example. However, tonight will be different. With Garcia coming along this time, you have no other choice but to share a room with one of the men. You decide to stay with Spencer, feeling as if it would maybe be less awkward than Hotch. Hopefully, at least...

He unlocks the door and lets you walk in first, observing the room with every step you take. Two beds. Thank God.

"Care if I take the bed next to the lamp?" Spencer asks from beside you as he double checks the locked door.

"No, I don't care," you smile, trying to spark some form of emotion rather than the blank, quiet stares you share.

"Okay great," he replies, immediately setting his stuff down. You walk into the bathroom and wash your face, getting ready for bed. You walk out in sweatpants and a tank top, surprised to see Spencer is also dressed in comfier clothes. You've never seen this side of him, nor did you know it even existed. He's sitting criss cross, staring intently at the files in front of him.

"I'm going to try to sleep, we have a big day tomorrow," you say in a yawn.

"Is it okay if I keep the lamp on for a bit?" He asks innocently with a rasp in his voice. You like it a little more than it should, and it really surprises you. You've always thought Spencer was cute, but you never saw it any more than just admiring from afar. You've never pictured any form of relationship, or even touch with him. Especially when it comes to the two of you sharing a room. This is foreign land to you, and for some reason you can't help but let your mind wander further into it. You look at the grip on his black pen, his veins popping out with each quick movement. Heat rises in you, yet you force yourself to keep it in control. Not tonight. You are not falling for Dr. Spencer Reid tonight.

"Yeah of course, do whatever you need to do Dr. Reid." Did you really just say that out loud? You force a slight chuckle, masking the flirty sarcasm in your voice.

"Oh, that's sir to you actually. Don't forget I'm a professor too." He smirks with his comment.

"Whatever smarty pants," you say to lower the mood of the conversation. Not tonight. You are not falling tonight.

"Mhm..." he mumbles before focusing his attention back to the folders in front of him.

"Night," you say, covering your face with the covers to block out the bright light.

"Night," you hear him say from outside of the sheets. The white blankets don't do much to hide the light from you, which slightly aggravates you. This is definitely not something to look forward to after a long day of profiling a killer. You toss and turn for what feels like forever until you're all tangled up in the sheets. With an abrupt movement you throw them off of you and blow the hair out of your face.

"Is something wrong? A nightmare?" He asks worriedly.

"No not that. I haven't slept yet. Do you mind to maybe turn the light off? I understand you probably have a lot to do but it's okay to take a break sometimes. You can't let this job take over every part of your life." You pause and loudly sigh. "It's kind of worrying. You deserve the same amount of rest as everyone else in the branch. You don't need all of this hard work placed on you."

"I don't mind. I chose this job because I knew I could handle it. I'll be okay."

"Spencer..." you whisper to almost nothing.

"Maybe I can do the work in the hallway or in the bathroom or something. I want you to be able to rest. I'm sorry, I didn't know I was bothering you or-" He rambles on before you cut him off.

"Spencer no," you say as you walk over to his bed. You gently place the files to the side in an organized manner so as to not mess up his work. He looks at you in silence, his puppy dog eyes becoming strangely hard to ignore. You grab his hand, and he slightly flinches.

"I'm sorry I forgot you probably don't like that." You apologize and quickly pull away.

"It's okay, I honestly didn't mind."

"Are you sure?" You bewilder. He nods.

"Look Spence...," you take a deep breath. "I know you have a ton of work, but you deserve to take a break for once in your life. Let that be tonight. Get some good sleep for once. Wake up energized to finish the files."

"No one calls me that." He smiles. "I think I like it, to be honest."

"What happened to sir?" You laugh and grab his hand again. This time he doesn't pull away.

"Oh, you know." He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you're not one of my students so it's cool."

'I'll still call you sir if you like', your mind threatens to say. However, for right now at least, this thought must be kept to yourself.

"Well, that's beside the point. I just want you to know that it's okay to relax sometimes," you actually do say.

"I don't really know how." He responds, giving you trouble deciding what to say back. You run your thumb along his hand, admiring every little perfection about it. He looks down to see for himself, and his breath slightly hitches at the commotion. You squeeze his other hand with your free one, causing him to meet your gaze once more. This time way closer than the last. Inches lay between your faces. His warm breath blows onto you, proving the closeness between you. He seems to finally be catching on to you as his eyelids only remain halfway open. Afraid to make a move, the two of you sit in silence wondering if he feels the same as you.

"I can try to help you," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice almost a whimper. He has definitely caught on. For a man who rarely even shakes hands with other people, he seems to love the attention you are now giving him. You squeeze his hands harder, admiring the way they tower over yours in size. He mimics your thumb movement, slightly going back and forth. Definitely caught on. Thankfully.

"Yeah." You slightly lean in, lips parted ever so softly. He follows your movement, not yet making contact with you. After what feels like forever, you decide to take control and simply peck his lips to see how he reacts. Once again he follows you, pulling away right after you do.

"I-" he pushes out in a stutter, his eyes wide and his face red. You smile as he swallows anxiously.

"Everything okay Spence?" You smirk, eyes slightly closed still.

"Yeah." He clears his throat and licks his lips. Silence barges in once again, the room filled with blushes and clandestine stares. Out of nowhere, your starving lips collide with his quickly. He slides his tongue over your bottom lip, forcing him inside of you. His change in demeaner surprises you to your core. Never in your job have you seen Spencer Reid so full of life and action. He moves quicker than ever, desperate to be as close to you as possible. He grabs your jawline, your pussy wet at the thought of what his hands probably look like again your soft skin. He moves back to your neck, grabbing a handful of hair to push you closer. He tastes sweeter with each kiss, driving you absolutely rabid

"Jesus Christ, Spencer, you're so different right now."

"Is that a bad thing?" His swollen pink lips ask. You can't move your gaze away from them.

"Not at all." You say and hurriedly go back into the kiss. After a few moments you pull away and stare into his dilated pupils as your brain seems to stop functioning. Arousal takes over the both of you.

"Just to be clear, how far are you wanting to go?" He asks.

"Wherever you take me." You say weakly.

"Just tell me if you need to stop, okay?"

"Yes sir." You smirk. Found his weakness. He rolls his head back and licks his lips, his adams apple moving as he swallows gently.

"I've never done this before, I'm sorry if-" He begins before you shut him up with a short kiss.

"Spence, you don't know how long I've looked at you in awe, forcing away my thoughts of seeing you on top of me. Fucking me until I can't breathe. Worshipping you." You breathe out.

"I never thought I'd enjoy this as much as I am."

"Let's make it even better." You say as you climb on top of him, pushing him against the pillows parallel to the bedframe. Your lips meet his again, this time neater than the last. You bite his bottom lip as you pull away, dragging it with you. You crawl down to his waistband, teasingly putting your fingers underneath it.

"Can I?" You ask.

"Wait. You first." He lifts up your chin with his index finger.

"Me?"

"Is there a problem with that darling?" His words echo in your mind. Darling, darling, darling. His darling. All his. No one else.

"No, just usually men don't care about the women's pleasure. I assumed you'd want me to suck you off first."

"Well, I personally care very much. I'm fucking dying to taste you." You've never heard Spencer curse before, and you've sure been missing out.

"Please do baby." You moan.

"On your back. Now." He says strictly. You love this side of him more than anything. You follow his rules and lay on your back as he looks at you in hunger.

"May I?" He holds the waistband to your pants in his perfect hands.

"Yes," you nod.

"Yes what?"

"Please Spencer."

"Yes what."

"Yes sir."

He finally pulls down your sweatpants, your soaked panties still on. He eyes them down, sliding one finger up the crease.

"You're so wet for me sweetheart."

"Spencer you're being so different. Ten minutes ago you would have passed out if I were almost naked in front of you. What's changed?"

"You think I haven't waited ages to touch you?" Oh.

"I don't understand. You're so much more... I don't know." You trail off.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks seriously, backing away slightly.

"No!" You almost shout. "I'm just so lost."

"I guess I just feel comfortable with you. I've wanted you for so long and now that I finally have you, I just feel so different." He smiles.

"I'm all yours."

"Good," he kisses your thigh. He begins to trail up to your pulsing heat in a line of kisses. Gently he pulls the remaining fabric off of you, leaving you in just a tank top that you happily remove. His fingers graze across your clit, your nerves sending tingles through your whole body. He grabs both of your thighs, squeezing gently as he drowns his head in you. His tongue moves all around, making you see stars. He licks at your entrance, slowly sliding in a finger out of nowhere.

"More..." you beg. He slides another in, slowly pumping. Each time he slides in he curls at just the right place, almost sending you over the edge. The mixture of his tongue and fingers begins to take over you, making you grab his hair to relieve some of the pressure.

"C'mon baby finish for me." His words vibrate into you. With this your orgasm finally collapses onto him, relief suddenly flowing through you. You raise up and look into his menacing eyes. The two of you exchange deep breaths as he holds you in his arms.

"Your turn." You exhale.

"Think you can handle one more?"

"Why don't you tell me, Dr. Reid. The corner of your lip curves up. Oh sorry, I mean sir."

"Guess we won't know unless we try." He leans in to kiss you, then kissing down your neck and leaving a red spot from sucking.

"Better hope Gideon doesn't see that," you laugh.

"Yeah good luck. He would never suspect it from me."

"I didn't either," you mumble, Moving down his body you slide his sweatpants off and run your hand up his shirt, purposefully ignoring his huge erection. He takes it off, the two of you completely vulnerable to each other now.

"Think you can take it?" He laughs.

"Watch me." You sit on his waist, slowly sliding his dick in. He whimpers, the unholy sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. As you gain speed his mouth falls open and he leans his head back. Moans escape his lips and you've never been more content in your life. He grabs your chin once more, placing it between his index and thumb. "You're so pretty riding me like the princess you are. I love it." You speed up at his words, desperate to make cum. "I'm so close love, keep going." Every new pet name sends you head over heels for him.

Acknowledging how close he is, you pull off and begin to suck on him. He releases almost instantly with a quiet moan. He looks down and watches as you swallow his load.

"Woah." Is all you can manage out as you both admire each other in such a state.

"Never thought this would happen." He says smiling.

"Me neither." You smile back and crawl up next to him, pulling the messy sheets over the two of you. He kisses you on the forehead and pulls you in closer. "Feel relaxed now?" You laugh.

"Oh definitely. More than ever."

"So... the lamp goes off now?" You ask excitedly.

"Yes," he sighs and reaches over to twist the knob on it. "The stupid lamp can go off."

[lobotomy-maybe-bestie]

hi locked tomb fandom.

so, the other day i was thinking that i really need to reread the whole series, and that i need to pay attention to detail in the text bc there is So Much in there.

you know how there's those exercises for bible reading? where you take a passage/chapter and read it, contemplate it, reread it, reflect on it, pick out specific sentences etc? well, what's more biblical than the book of our savior gideon the ninth??

anyway i thought i could make a discord server where we do these slow, detailed readings together. it'll be pretty slow and encourage ppl to go at their own pace. and since it's for RE-reading, spoilers for all of tlt will be allowed through the whole thing.

this is an interest check to see if roughly anyone would want this. if you want to be tagged in the case of the server happening, please rb and tell me in tags so i know who to tag!

[tanoraqui]

you’ve heard of Her Divine Highness Gideon the First, First Daughter of the House of God, and all the compelling, often Fake Dating-laced AUs that might follow. But have you considered...Gideon Jr. Dve, favored daughter of the First, heir of Gideon the First, Saint of Duty?

the timeline diverges at 2 points:

Gideon (ours) inherits her mother’s perfectly normal dark brown eyes

Gideon (lyctor) follows the escape pod to Ninth House, arrives to find Wake’s corpse and living baby, to the bemusement of all the locals is like, “yes, that’s mine” and takes said baby back to the Mithraeum to confess his sins and beg forgiveness

the conversation that follows goes like this:

Gideon 1: I am so sorry, John, I don’t know what came over me, Wake was just...really hot. She’s dead now. But, um, this is our daughter, and I feel duty-bound to raise her, or at least see that she’s raised well - but it’s your call, of course (again, I’m sorry for sleeping with the enemy for over a decade)

JohnGod, vibrating at a frequency known only to necromantic immortals who maybe swallowed a sun or something: N I E C E ? !

Augustine, Mercy, and maybe Cytherea, exchanging frantic eye contact behind the other two’s heads: Is that the baby? / I don’t know! I thought you were keeping track of it! / I don’t know! Can’t you tell!? / Are they keeping it? / What the fuck are we going to do about this?!

So, Gideon (Jr.) grows up in the Mithraeum, which needless to say is a fucking weird place to grow up. 

this au is dependent on the assumption that none of these millennia-old necromancers can identify the thanergic/thalergic weirdness of the biological daughter of God on slight, so, just accept that. Maybe children of lyctors (I refuse to believe there haven’t been any before) are a little Like That anyway? The Conspirators do learn the truth pretty fast, DNA test or something, but they quickly decide that stealing the baby and running for the Ninth is a terrible plan, and G1deon and God have to let her out from underfoot eventually. They’ll wait.

the Ninth had already named her Gideon. Gideon 1 tries to change this, but alas, his terrible immortal friends all think it’s hilarious and call her Gideon Jr, or “Junior” or “Giddy” for short.

Cytherea is undoubtably the Cool Aunt, and also Giddy’s first crush

(neither Mercy nor Augustine want to touch children on account of potential stickiness, ruling them firmly out)

JohnGod makes so many Godfather jokes in a terrible Italian mobster accent, which Giddy then imitates with equal inability to mimic an accent, which either produces something completely unrecognizable as old-Earth Italian mobster OR somehow loops back around to being a perfect impression of Don Corleone

Pyrrha tries to resist the urge to check in, but fails, particularly around bedtime (usually a private father/daughter tucking-in ritual). Giddy, with the uncomfortable insight for a toddler, quickly grasps that Sunglasses Dad is a different persona than Normal Dad. Sunglasses Dad swears her to utmost secrecy about this, and she keeps the oath...almost entirely

she does let it slip to Normal Dad, who...

listen, G1deon has been concealing his mysterious lapses in awareness from God and his fellow lyctors for centuries; he’s not going to stop now. And he MUST have had suspicions about what caused them; he’s not an idiot. But he would, I think, be a responsible father. 

So when 7yo Gideon Jr. lets slip about her interactions with Sunglasses Dad - which she definitely doesn’t realize is a whole different person; she probably thinks it’s a weird character her dad acts as sometimes, like how Uncle God will play pretend as a mobster, pirate, horse, etc. When Gideon Jr. lets slip, Gideon Sr. sits her down with his daughter, gets her to tell him about Sunglasses Dad, and admits that, uh, yeah, sure, it’s a fun game they play together, and still very secret from everyone else...and if ‘Sunglasses Dad’ ever makes her feel scared, or god forbid hurts her, she should run away and find Uncle God and tell him everything immediately. 

(Because he has suspicions, he must have suspicions, especially at this point...but just in case he’s wrong, he’ll confess to this centuries-old secret rather than let any harm befall his daughter. It’s the only right thing to do.)

Some Actual Plot Maybe, IDK?:

when Gideon Jr. is 13, her father finally agrees to enroll her in the Cohort Academy for Gifted Officers-To-Be, or whatever its called. Gideon Sr. has a quiet word with the current head of Second House and Gideon Jr. enrolls incognito, and rolls up to this place with

- sword skills trained since birth with fucking lyctors

- an uncanny ability to survive should-be-deadly wounds

- the social skills of someone who has never spoken with anyone under the age of several millennia

- probably slightly more respect for, like, the concept of authority/order/duty/not being a smartass 24/7 than the canon Gideon we know and love...BUT she has also literally never suffered a consequence in her life, and...you know how Miles Vorkosigan’s insubordination habits are based partly in that for the first 18 years of his life, his commanding officers, essentially, were 2 of the most competent people on Barrayar? God Himself used to give Gideon horsey rides. Gideon might try, politely, to be impressed by the commander-instructor glaring at her personally, but she is...not.

- gay

[insert a full YA novel’s worth of coming-of-age shenanigans here, absolutely ft. Judith Deuteros and Marta Dyas as soon-friends]

AND THEN ONE DAY, JOD SENDS OUT AN INVITATION to the heir of the Nine Houses inviting them to the First...

now, Gideon does not have a single drop of necromantic ability. She never has. So she wants to be a cavalier so bad...

but even Gideon, sword bimbo that she is, couldn’t grow up with The lyctors and not notice that... Well, no one really talks about their cavaliers, except when Mercy and Augustine fight about them. There is a grieving, sucking wound where every lyctoral cavalier should be.

she still tried so hard to be one. Judith very nearly agreed to have her even over <3Marta<3 (whom they were both madly crushing on). Then Gideon had one of her rare meetings with her father (he’d swing by the Cohort Academy sometimes and they’d get lunch), and told him about it all excitedly, and he flatly forbade it. And then he went over her head and flatly forbade it to the Cohort. 

so there’s something Weird going on there, or at least there’s something being unfairly forbidden to Gideon like birds are forbidden to the indoor cat staring out the window, eagerly lashing its tail. 

so she hatches a Plan:

- 1. Stow away on Judith & Marta’s ship to Dominicus - 2. ??? - 3. Profit!

when she sees Cytherea there, she thinks, Oh shit, I’m busted.

fortunately, she’d waited until everyone else had disembarked and gone inside before she snuck off the ship, so Cytherea doesn’t see her. So now it’s up to Gideon to sneak around, make friends with the heirs of the Houses, and recruit them into helping her not get caught by her aunt! Who she assumes is here specifically to catch her out...or maybe to covertly oversee the trials...? Hey what is up with this place anyway?

(It’s fortunate because as soon as Cytherea sees Gideon, she’s going to change her plan to “kill everyone immediately, except Giddy, whom I take to the Ninth and exsanguinate to open that damn tomb.”)

(Unfortunately, once like 5 people have died, Gideon is likely to honorably reveal herself in order to ask Cytherea for help, because CLEARLY something has gone terribly wrong. This can’t really be part of the trials, right? Uncle God wouldn’t do that.)

[theriverbeyond]

how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?

hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!

Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:

When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori

John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori

John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori

He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof

Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?

In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL

there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry

I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)

How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate

[hxlda-hxlda]

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 

“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 

“Ask… who?” 

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 

“What?” 

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 

“And hello to you, too.” 

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 

“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 

“You wound me, Moons.” 

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 

“I will hang up right now.” 

A lie. He never hangs up first. 

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 

“Who?” 

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 

“Ah, Greg.” 

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 

“Now that would make the papers.” 

“Certainly… Is that all?” 

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 

“That’s not–” 

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 

pads !!!!!!!!!   

look what uve done  u menace 

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.