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chaos-has-theories · 12 days

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It's here! My TLT Hemospectrum chart. Turns out I'd even finished the description, it just needed light editing.

One day I said to my roommate "Gideon is just so rustblood coded" and then I said "Harrow is definitely a blue blood" and three days later I had this. I'm… sorry? But don't get me wrong, I am deadly serious. THE BUTTS (colors) MATCH

Blank Hemospectrum chart by Rotommowtom, found here. Explanation/Image ID below.

Let's start from the bottom, shall we?

Gideon Nav: candy-red Images: GtN cover; astrological cancer symbol/Sign of the Signless; the scratched out Ninth on Gideon's chapter skull Text: "incongruously red hair" "mutant blood" "the Signless" Additional lines to Rust Class (for her servitude) and Bronze class (for her specific colors)

Gideon is incredibly Rustblood-coded. Just look at her eyes and hair and the colors on her book. But it really is no more than coding. Because very clearly, she's actually mutant candy-red! The Signless. She grows up without a Lusus parents and she is treated as a mutant and an outcast by the Ninth House. She's assumed to be at the bottom of the barrel when really she should be all the way at the top.

And, well. She's lesbian Jesus. Just like Karkat and Kankri. Sth sth Gideon's first act being unlocking her cuffs sth the sign of the signless sth Gideon on that fence vs the Sufferer in his Saint Sebastian getup. Quoth also my roommate: "Gideon wearing glasses and her hood is like Karkat greytyping"

Rust Class: Second House Text: "A very common class, often used to serve and protect Highbloods, often has jobs tailored to Janitorial work, sometimes has Psychic Abilities" "Second-styled Cohort all scarlet and white" Title: Ranked Captain

The actual Rustbloods. Have you ever looked through the Dramatis Personae of GtN and noticed that the 2nd have seemingly no inherited title* whatsoever? Yeah. And obviously, their house color is red. Plus, compare how Judith only ever thinks she has any kind of cachet around the rest of the houses, even though her one attempt to pull rank fails miserably. ("A cohort captain don't rank higher than a Third official.")

(*Judith does get adressed as "Lady Judith" by Teacher once. Draw your own conclusions, but I think that might be generic towards a house heir with no other titles.)

Bronze Class: Fifth or Seventh? Text: "Are often Gifted with the Ability to Commune with Animals" "brown, long coated suit" (fifth); "'I agree', said her bronze statue of a cavalier" (seventh)

This one I'm the most unclear on. By House colors, it would have to be the Fifth, but I also have reasons to place them higher up in the chart. Additionally Protesilaus (non-puppeted version ) gets described as "bronzed and vigorous" and a "bronze statue" three times in row. As we've already seen with Gideon, though, I suspect that necros and their cavs can be placed in different Classes. There's 12 of them, after all, and only 9 Houses. I'm inclined to give this one to Pro, and maybe even Dulcie - she and Tavros have at least the wheelchair in common.

Gold Class: Eighth House Text: "Very often has Psychic Abilities, Often used as External Power Sources" "soul siphoner" "mustard blood" "mayonnaise uncle"; "Nona's eyes were a deep, warm gold" Title: Master Templar

This is the one that struck me with lightning and had me go down this rabbit-hole in earnest. "Often used as external power sources". Did you mean: Soul Siphoning? And: Gold blood gets derogatorily described as "mustard blood" on multiple occasions. Mayonnaise uncle, anyone? Note that I'd consider placing Silas higher up on his own, but he patently does not have a noble title. Even Teacher just calls him "Master Octakiseron". Still, I've got a tentative line up to Teal for his "justice of the tome".

There's an extra line here, linking Alecto's golden eyes to the idea of an external power source. (And Gideon's, of course. There's a theme about only the cavalier characters being Golden.) Also, while one of the Third House colors is Gold, I have good reason to keep them further up this pyramid. In any case, it's mostly Corona who gets described as the "golden twin" (in GtN). See also this on the question of whether Corona has been used as Ianthe's power source since birth.

Olive Class: The Sixth Text: "Rarely having Psychic abilities. The Middle Class."; "nice normal olive" Title: Master Warden

This one was a bit more difficult, but Camilla is described as having "olive skin" twice (those being the only uses of the word in all three books). Also, just vibes-based, I asked around, and this was the result. More importantly, maybe: "the middle class". You will find that noone below this line has a noble title, while everyone above does. Yes, everyone.

Jade Class: Fifth House? Text: "Oddly a very rare class. Tends to the Mother Grub and assists young grubs" "A strong relationship with both Tettares and Chatur" Title: Lady (and Seneschal) of Koniortos Court

Slightly unclear here, except that Magnus and Abigail have the strongest parent vibes I've ever seen. Their whole house uses those parent vibes as political weapons, okay. Lipsticks, chainsaws, and how the fifth "skinned itself over with such airs of civilization…but they were spirit talkers, and speakers to the dead. And the dead were savage." Relatedly: "Abigail Pent blazed like a flare from a blue and Alien sun…. Abigail was soaking wet, wreathed in hot mistlike shimmers by spirit magic… A reek hit Harrow like a faceful of snow: water, brine, blood." Compare that to Kanaya's shiny rainbow drinker form.

I am also having thoughts about Nona being called a "green thing". Sth sth mother grub, and the ability to repopulate humanity.

Teal Class: Seventh House Text: "Often Legislacerators, and often deals with judicial issues"; "Her dress was a (concoction) of seafoam" Title: Duchess (and Knight) of Rhodes

Colorwise perfectly correct, and a Duchess definitely belongs into the Bluebloods. I don't know what to think about the "Judicial Issues" - hence the uncertain line connecting to Silas and the "judgement of the tome" - but admittedly Cytherea is at Canaan House to mete out her version of justice.

See also sth sth representation of disabilty as seen in both Dulcie and Terezi, and potentially even how Cytherea causes Gideon's death, while Dulcie tells Harrow that she might still be saved. Compare to Terezi killing and then saving Vriska to save everyone… le shrug, as the kids say.

Cerulean Class: Ninth House Images: HtN cover Text: "Sometimes has the Ability to Mind control others"; "'You can control my body,' she said. 'You can read my thoughts.' 'No. Not remotely.'

Somewhat unclear. But the line about whether or not Harrow can control Gideon was always… hm. Is "borrowing perceptions" really so much different from mind reading? Besides, mind controlling Gideon is like Harrow's #1 activity starting in chapter one, even if she does it through considerable planning. And of course once we get into the permeability of the soul, looking at "your most intimate memories" is the least of your troubles.

Anyway, Harrow is just so blue-coded. It's her cover, her vibes, and listen: Teacher and Aiglamene call her "Your Grace". It's the correct style for a Bishop or Archbishop, but it's also solidly intriguing considering it's also used for Duchesses and Kings (real life) and Lyctors (NtN).

Indigo Class: Fourth House Text: "Often possesses high levels of Physical Strength and Nobility"; "blue hood". Title: Baron (and Knight) of Tisis

The Dreadful Teens wear blue. Strength, Nobility, Fidelity, and the Emperor.

Purple Class: Third House Text: "Highest Landdwelling Caste, keeps lowerbloods in check"; "Ianthe's pallid purple irises" Title: Princess of Ida

Violet Class: Third House Text: "Royal bloods that ensure the safety of the empress"; "deep, liquid violet"; "I won't tell her. You can't do this, doll, not now."; "1950s-style human greaser" Title: (Crown) Princess and Prince of Ida

Things get properly interesting here. Because yeah, blah blah, highest titles of the nobility, "royal bloods" and princesses; and Naberius' connection to pre-scratch Cronus Ampora.

But while Coronabeth's eyes consistently get described as "violet", Ianthe's are only ever "purple". Or occasionally "dying violets". "Violets on dialysis." Definitely not true violet, no matter how much Ianthe tries. Also, Ianthe "Gatekeep" Tridentarius loves to keep lowbloods in check. It's like her favorite thing.

To get our purples mixed up even more, it's the Fuchsias that traditionally fight with tridents in Homestuck. Tridents, Tridentarius, Trident Knife. Though of course -

Fuchsia Class: First House Text: "The Ruling Empress, has the power to enforce and influence all castes"; "Necromancer Divine, King of the Nine Renewals, our Resurrector, the Necrolord Prime" Title: The Emperor

Do I really need to explain that? He's the Emperor. Of course he's at the top of the pyramid. His "Stop" spell thingy is just the cherry on top. What else could there be to say?

…I'm SO glad you asked. Cherub time!

Alecto: Lime Green Images: green cherub spiral Text: "The dominant personality will then completely consume the other, integr8ting it in such a way that only one is left."; "Muse of Space"

John Gaius: Candy Red Text: "I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I'd done the smarter thing and mastered Time."; "Lord of Time"

I've talked about this before, but John and Alecto are absolutely a Lord of Time/Muse of Space duo. Active vs Passive, life vs death, and the process of a cherub maturing is eerily like Lyctorhood. There's been plenty of theorizing on whether John actually does control time. Personally I don't think so, but it's certainly suggestive! And if John's the metaphorical mutant red, it's exactly what passed on to Gideon ("lipochrome. recessive") while the lime green neatly ties Alecto back to her "green and breathing thing".

Aaaand that's it! Thank you most kindly for reading all this, and if you have any questions, ideas, or frustrated noises to make, come scream at me please :D

#the locked tomb #homestuck #chaos has theories #my favorite tag! returned from the war!#personal thanks to jods-duplicitous-sluts and my-mountain-hyacinth for indeed kicking me until I post this. thank you for your service #tlt meta

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library-seraph · 2 months

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Griddlehark Playlist

What the title says, primarily about their relationship although there are a few individualized songs

(very heavily Harrow the ninth biased, which is the most romantic book despite or because of one member of the couple not being to able to remember the other)

Liner notes below cut, also, this is a perpetual WIP like all my playlists

Lioness- The World Is a Beautiful Place and I am Not Afraid to Die

When I was with you we were an estuary I don’t know if I come from the river or the sea All I know is you are both my opposite and my reflection

We were two bodies Running out of room in this world We carved space in ourselves for the other to borrow, for the other to burrow I wake up sometimes with ghost traces of your lips on my bones

Cosmia- Joanna Newsom (Joanna Newsom isn't on Spotify, track these down elsewhere)

Water were your limbs And the fire was your hair — And then the moonlight caught your eye And you rose through the air Well, if you've seen true light Then this is my prayer:

Will you call me, when you get there?

And I miss your precious heart;

NFWMB- Hozier

Give your heart and soul to charity 'Cause the rest of you The best of you Honey, belongs to me

If I was born as a blackthorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you Held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies

Daughter of God- Phemiec

Doubt’s an elastic that snaps where you grasp it With idle hands clasped on your wrist just as sharp as A kiss on the scar where you carved out her name Or a line that is straight and confined to your fate You’re resigned to be damned by your hand in her hand She will hold you as soft as a feather on water You float on her fingers, she pulls you apart It’s not hard, it won't hurt, it’s not right for a daughter of god

There is a Light that Never Goes Out- Dum Dum Girls (cover)

And in the darkened underpass I thought oh, God, my chance has come at last But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask

And if a double-decker bus Crashes into us To die by your side Is such a heavenly way to die

Take Me to Church- Hozier (I'm allowed two screamingly obvious songs)

We were born sick, you heard them say it My church offers no absolutes She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom" The only heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well

Never Let Me Go- Florence+ the Machine (This is the other one)

And the arms of the ocean are carrying me And all this devotion was rushing out of me And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me But the arms of the ocean delivered me

The Only Thing- Sufjan Stevens

Do I care if I survive this? Bury the dead where they’re found In a veil of great surprises, I wonder did you love me at all?

Should I tear my eyes out now? Everything I see returns to you, somehow Should I tear my heart out now? Everything I feel returns to you, somehow I want to save you from your sorrow

Los Ageless (Piano Version)- St. Vincent

How can anybody have you? How can anybody have you and lose you? How can anybody have you and lose you And not lose their mind too?

I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built I try to tell you I love you but it comes out all sick I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built I try to write you a love song but it comes out a lament

Running up that Hill- Kate Bush (Okay, three)

You don't wanna hurt me But see how deep the bullet lies Unaware, I'm tearin' you asunder Oh, there is thunder in our hearts Is there so much hate for the ones we love? Oh, tell me, we both matter, don't we?

New Ceremony- Dry the River

I waited by your bedside And couldn't close my eyes all night I named you like a prayer It's anybody's guess how The angel of doubt came down And crept into your bed But after we danced to the shipping forecast The words escaped your mouth: "I know it's gotta stop, love, but I don't know how."

Now the stairs forget your shoes And the gate don't creak for want of you But the jury's out on me We're wise beyond our years But we're good at bad ideas, my love Or so it seems to be

OH ANNA- The Microphones

Oh Anna, take me in with water arms surround me, blow your breezy charms around me Oh Anna, you're a house of many rooms and all the secrets deep entombed within you I know a few

Oh Anna, take me to your eerie heights above, paint white letters "I you love" Oh Anna, drop me off a cliff I fall

Weights and Measures- Dry the River

I was prepared to love you And never expect anything of you There's no patron saint of silent restraint Baby there ain't no sword in our lake Just a funeral wake

Just because we're beasts of blame by nature Doesn't mean that you should carry it again It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross- Sufjan Stevens

Drag me to hell in the valley of The Dalles Like my mother Give wings to a stone It’s only the shadow of a cross

I slept on my back in the shade of the meadowlark Like a champion Get drunk to get laid I take one more hit when you depart

The Bomb- Florence+ the Machine (This is "Kiriona Gaia has been abandoned by everybody except two of the worst people in canon and everything except being a warcrimes corpse puppet and she's TOTALLY FINE with that, honest")

But if I was free to love you You wouldn't want me, would you? Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong

I've blown apart my life for you And bodies hit the floor for you And break me, shake me, devastate me Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong I don't love you, I just love the bomb (Oh, oh, oh) I let it burn, but it just had to be done (Oh, oh, oh) And I'm in ruins, but is it what I wanted all along? Sometimes, you get the girl, sometimes, you get the song

Francesca- Hozier

Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm since I was born How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

In a Sweater Poorly Knit- mewithoutYou

You're a door-without-a-key, a field-without-a-fence You made a holy fool of me and I've thanked you ever since And if she comes circling back we'll end where we'd begun Like two pennies on the train track the train crushed into one But if I'm a crown without a king, if I'm a broken open seed If I come without a thing, then I come with all I need No boat out in the blue, no place to rest your head The trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead

Kept Woman- Fleet Foxes (Tbh this is probably the soundtrack to the ideal stigmata fisting/heart regrowing scene)

God above saw, ever in the mind Blue and white irises in a line Under your nameless shame I left you in frame, and you rose to be ossified As a Rose of the Oceanside

Can you be slow for a little while? Widow your soul for another mile? I'm just the same as when You saw me back then And we're bound to be reconciled We're bound to be reconciled

The Chain- Fleetwood Mac

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you sayin' You would never break the chain (Never break the chain) And if you don't love me now (You don't love me now) You will never love me again I can still hear you sayin' (Still hear you saying) You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)

Time as a Symptom- Joanna Newsom

So it would seem to be true: When cruel birth debases, we forget When cruel death debases We believe it erases all the rest That precedes

In the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating Joy of life; The nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating Joy of life

#the locked tomb #playlist #Spotify #orig post #griddlehark #gideon x harrow #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #fave chars

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mikrowrites · 1 year

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fate goes pt. 6

marc spector x avatar!reader

summary: y/n is reunited with someone she never thought she’d see again; as shait and khonshu fight against ammit, y/n, marc, and steven fight to stop harrow

warnings: angst, fighting, violence, fluff, language, dark themes, death, EPISODE 6 SPOILERS

a/n: the last part! thank you so much for the love for the series! also warning, this deals with someone dying in a hospital, so if that’s a trigger be warned!

“fate goes as ever fate must

fate is the only one that’s just and i trust

fate goes as ever fate must

ashes to ashes

dust to dust” - fate goes, the ninth hour

Y/n pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, humming a gentle lullaby as she sat next to the bed, her other hand grasping that of the patient.

Her internship at the hospital brought her to the hospice wing, where death surrounded her daily. Yet, she knew in her gut that their times were set and she couldn’t change it; instead she could respect the process and the execution of fate.

Y/n had begun to believe in fate as her studies in medicine continued. Science was factual, but fate was sacred. It was unmoving and constant, and perhaps that was a comfort to her in a way.

She continued her humming, gently rubbing herself the patient’s hand as they slumbered. Unlike many other patients, this one had no family photos, no flowers or gifts or get well balloons. Y/n had noticed this and found herself frustrated by the idea of a patient seeing the end of their days alone. So she had sat for hours with them, awaiting their fate.

“You care so much, don’t you child?”

Y/n gasped, the chair screeching across the linoleum as she bolted upwards. The patient’s eyes were open, glowing a golden light, their lips moving with every word. She backed away slightly, her voice quivering. “Who-who are you?”

The patient cocked their head to the side. “You’re a curious one, Y/n L/n. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You care for people so much, yet you don’t fear death. Curious indeed.”

“What do you want from me?” Y/n asked quietly.

The patient’s head turned to face her, the golden eyes boring into her. “How rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself.”

The gold flickered out, as well as the lights as the room was plunged into darkness. Y/n used her arms to cover herself, as if the room were to implode into her, crushing her. Her breathing was erratic as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Don’t be scared child. Open your eyes.”

Y/n slowly lowered her arms, as a hand rested gently under her chin, guiding her gaze upwards. She met the gaze of a seemingly humanoid person, decked in gold and jewels. Below the waist was a serpents tail, the scales shining with every movement as the being cracked a smile. “I am Shait, the god of fate and fortune.”

She was shell shocked, staring up at the god in their splendor. All she could muster out was a quiet peep of: “Hi.”

The god seemed amused, “You are the most unusual being I have ever met, Y/n.”

“Is um, that in a good way or a bad way?” Y/n questioned.

“A good way, I assure you.” The god responded. “What do you know of the gods of Egypt?”

She shrugged, a little less tense. “Not much, sorry.”

“The gods are very much around and existing in your modern human world, but we do not interfere with earthly events. We instead rely on avatars to carry our will.” Shait explained. “We look for those who exemplify our morals and relish our beliefs. You, Y/n L/n, are who I am looking for. You are kind but resolute. Gentle but passionate. Intelligent and level-headed. You accept the tides of life and how the rivers of fate flow.”

“What does this mean?” Y/n seemed to plead.

Shait faced Y/n. “Y/n L/n, I want you to be my avatar.”

“Me?” She sputtered, her brain clouded with confusion. “I can’t be the best choice.”

“I have seen billions of people on this earth, read their hearts and seen their inner thoughts. You are the best choice. We can allow peace to those who fate commands, and allow for the fortune to bless those who deserve it.” The god spoke.

“Y/n L/n, will you be my harbinger of fate, my disciple of fortune, and guide to those who pass through the river of life? Will you protect fate with you might and see to the people around you justly, to become my avatar?”

She thought for a moment, before meeting the gaze of the god.

“Yes. I will.”

Suddenly she was plunged backwards into darkness, flinging out her arms and crying out as the void swallowed her whole, a warm feeling blossoming in her chest as she felt her retinas burning with a spectacular light. Her body fell backwards down, down, down, her limbs flailing for some kind of control.

Y/n sat up with a start, gripping the side of the hospital bed as she breathed heavily, gathering her bearings. She gasped, holding out her hands as she watched her veins course with golden light.

“Go on. Rest your two fingers upon their forehead.”

She perked up at Shait’s voice in her ears, turning to the patient as Y/n realized the room was filled with the sound of a monitor flatlining. She reached forwards, pressing her index and middle finger onto the patient’s forehead, Y/n’s eyes glowing as suddenly numbers began to appear in her vision, counting like a time clock until they finally clicked into place.

Y/n stepped backwards, the golden glow dimming before disappearing from her eyes and veins. She exhaled, before wetting her lips.

“Time of death, 3:25 AM.”

Y/n soared through the night sky of Cairo, her golden feathers gleaming in the moonlight. Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

Three large gods grappled slowly with each other, Khonshu and Shait vs Ammit. Y/n was almost in awe watching it, if it weren’t for the fact she needed to find Harrow and end this once and for all.

Her peripheral caught a glow of purple, Y/n immediately positioning her wings to dive down into the streets, setting her sight on Harrow. She soared down, positioning her body as she rammed her feet forwards, slamming them into the man as she sent him flying. She cast her eyes down to see a figure on the ground before her feet, suddenly her mind reeling in recognition.

The Moon Knight, Marc Spector, looked up at her in a reverie, the girl fixing him with a smirk as he uttered her name. “Y/n?”

Oh if they weren’t in a war, Shait would be chewing her out on this one.

Harrow stood angrily, directing a blast of purple light from his cane to her. Y/n turned to him, using her golden wings to shield herself, instead sending the blast back into him. sending the man tumbling back. She glared at Harrow before letting the wings retract, lowering her arms.

Y/n barely had time to turn before she was met with Marc, his face revealed, racing to her. “Y/n! Y/n, oh baby.” He pulled her into his arms, the woman grasping for him like a lifeline. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“Marc.” She sputtered out, the man pulling away to hold the sides of her head in his hands, taking in every aspect of her. “How’d you get back?”

Suddenly Steven took control, looking her up and down. “Wow, you look amazing! What are you wearing?”

Y/n smiled softly at the man, before they turned, noticing Harrow rising from the ground and his men ready for a fight. Steven turned to her excitedly. “Hey, I’m really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have.”

“All right, show me what you’ve got.” she nodded to the men.

“Yeah?” Steven asked with a gleeful smile.

“Yeah.” Y/n affirmed.

Both of them dove into action, Steven into a sprint and Y/n soaring forwards, careening into the fight. They both fought against the forces, as their godly counterparts battled above them.

A while into the fight, Y/n found herself pinned against a car, using one of her wings to shield herself from an onslaught of bullets. She squeezed her eyes shut, the violent clinking of metal invading her hearing until--it didn’t. She looked up to see Marc causing a complete massacre. He cut down man after man, until it was him and Harrow, the man continuing to beat the other avatar down until he was bringing the staff down to his head. “No!” Y/n cried out.

Suddenly Marc stopped, his body going rigid and the blade of the staff mere millimeters from Harrow’s forehead. The man looked around, seemingly horrified at the scene around him.

“Marc?” Y/n called, sheathing the wing she was previously using as protection. “What was that?”

“I blacked out.” Marc was confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

They both suddenly looked up to see Ammit best Khonshu in battle, Shait being thrown to the ground. Y/n’s chest clenched in fear when the god did not rise back up. “Get Harrow. I know how to stop Ammit.” She quickly ordered.

Marc nodded and grasped Harrow’s shirt in his fist, Y/n leading them as they both soared into the sky, racing to the pyramid to save their gods and their world.

Once inside, Marc threw Harrow’s body onto a piece of debris, stepping back to Y/n. She sighed, stepping towards them. “The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body. Quick, grab my hand so we can start the spell.”

The man was quick to grasp her hand, relishing for a moment in the familiarity of their touches intertwined, before he followed her lead in reaching their free hands upwards. Y/n’s body jerked slightly as her arm began to glow purple with a sacred energy, Marc the same. And as though they had practiced it every moment of their lives, they began to chant a spell.

They stopped when Harrow’s eyes opened wide, a voice not of his own emitting from his lips. “You can never contain me. I’ll never stop.”

Y/n and Marc gasped in relief and release when the spell ended, binding Harrow and Ammit. The woman heaved for her breath, feeling Marc’s hand gently on her back as he also regained the air in his lungs.

“Finish it. And leave neither of them alive.”

Both looked up to see Khonshu tower over them, Y/n feeling Marc stiffen. She looked over to him as she felt his palm leave the small of her back, the man stepping up to Harrow, hovering above him as he unsheathed a blade. Marc gripped the man’s shirt, reeling his arm back to end the task. “I have to finish this. If not, I’ll never be free.”

Y/n stepped forwards, calling out his name. “Marc!”

Marc turned to look back at her, lowering his arm slightly. She stepped forwards, resting her hands carefully and softly on his limb which tightly grasped his blade. It was then he noticed Shait standing some feet from them, watching idly as their avatar spoke once more. “You have a choice. You are free. This is your chance to determine your fate.”

“The fate is vengeance.” Khonshu chided. “We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound like her.” Marc responded to the god, letting Harrow’s body drop. Y/n lowered her hands away, allowing the man to approach his god. “You want them dead... do it yourself.”

Shait lowered their head in acknowledgment. “Fate goes, Marc Spector.”

Marc nodded to the god, before turning to Khonshu. “Now release us.”

Khonshu turned, meeting the cold stare of Y/n. The god took note of how the avatar of Shait could pose a threat; whether it be her control of fate and fortune or her fierce, protective love of Marc. He looked to Shait, as if to ask the fate of this outcome. The god simply nodded.

He turned to Marc. “As you wish.”

Y/n watched as the control of Khonshu began to wash from Marc, the room building up into a blinding light. Marc caught one last glance of the love of his life before he was thrown into his head once more.

His eyes flicked open, dim sunlight cracking through the windows as he gathered his surroundings. Marc once more laid in his bed, in his flat in London. He sat up groggily, speaking up. “Steven? You there?”

“Mmmhmm.” Steven tiredly responded, the men taking in the room around them as though it would disappear at any moment. “Can’t believe it worked.”

The man was quickly frightened by a sudden movement next to him, turning to his left. His face softened, Marc taking over the body as he stared down next to him, a slight smile on his face. Y/n turned over in the bed towards him, her eyes fluttering open as a yawn escaped her mouth. “You’re both so loud, five more minutes of sleep please?”

Marc chuckled, leaning forwards and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Sorry. We’ll make you some breakfast then, yeah?”

Y/n smiled blissfully, her eyes closing as she snuggled up into the blankets. “Sounds amazing.”

He smiled back, before standing from the bed and muttering to Steven. “I can’t believe you live in this fricking mess. Y/n’s gonna whoop your a--”

Suddenly his ankle restraint pulled against the frame, knocking the man over and off his feet, slamming into the ground. He looked up briefly, groaning in pain. Quiet giggles could be heard from the bed behind him, and though he was annoyed and his body hurt like hell, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Looks like Y/n’s fortune-luck-shit didn’t rub off on him.

Harrow was shoved into the limo, letting out a laugh at the sight before him. “Khonshu. You can’t hurt us.”

Khonshu sat across from him, a pressed white suit clothed him as he sat cross-legged, casual before the trapped goddess. However, it was the person next to Khonshu that Ammit noticed with curiousity.

She sat next to the god, seemingly human, yes, must be an avatar. Her eyes glowed a shining gold, her veins running like rivers under her skin and coursing with the same glowing hue. She was expressionless, her glowing empty eyes boring holes into Harrow.

“Yeah. You wanna know something?” Khonshu spoke. “Marc Spector truly believed that after he and I parted ways, we would be done. That I’d be done with her?” He gestured to the girl.

Harrow rolled his eyes, making the talking motion with his hand annoyedly. Yet something unnerved Ammit as the girl narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why would I ever need anybody else when he has no idea how troubled he truly is?” Khonshu remarked. “And don’t worry; Y/n isn’t home right now. She won’t know a thing that happens here.”

“Ah... Shait’s doing.” Harrow noted, the girl, Y/n, raising her fist up to knock on the window, as if giving a cue.

“Meet my... friend,” The girl spoke in a foreign voice. “Jake Lockley.”

The divider in the limo rolled down, revealing Marc Spector. But no, this was not Marc Spector, Ammit saw that clearly. He was different. This man--this was anger, vengeance, and violence incarnate. Jake spoke in a dark tone, the Spanish rolling off his tongue. “Today is your turn to lose.”

Jake raised a gun, giving a sickening smile as Harrow and Ammit begged him to wait, to reason.

Y/n did not flinch as the gun went off, splattering a minimal painting of blood onto her face. She leaned forwards, her fingertips glowing as she rested them upon the mutilated forehead of the body, her eyes seeming to glow even brighter, her veins like a golden fire. “It is done.” She spoke to Khonshu.

The limo drove off, with a fate met.

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paradoxcase · 5 months

Text

@wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess:

So the relationship between 'Source Gram' and BoE plays a huge role in Nona, and the aforementioned 'break clause' is significant; it makes a sort of interesting sense too once you learn what the Sixth House founder did for a living before the end of the world.

Interesting, I'm glad this gets fleshed out later. So I guess Cassieopeia was also working with BOE, then? I'm starting to wonder if Ianthe and Harrow are the only actual loyal-and-totally-not-fucking-someone-on-the-other-side-of-the-war Lyctors that John ever had

It may be that Cytherea had her own agenda and decided that no, killing them all was the better choice. This does come up somewhat in Nona too.

Yeah, I could see that, especially since she originally killed Magnus and Abigail to prevent them from blowing her cover. I guess her reason could either be that she didn't want them to all make the same mistake that she had, or it could be that she found out about Gideon's eye color after she got there and just got very mad at John

So it's been debated by fandom that if Harrow had not consumed Gideon's soul, she eventually would have 'woken up' and healed. Maybe. And John claims that he could not separate Gideon's soul from Harrow...but John is unreliable.

I mean, he said that at the end of Gideon the Ninth, he had no idea who Gideon was at that point, and he didn't realize that Harrow had mucked around in her brain until near the end of the book, so I think he probably just assumed that Harrow worked the same way that all the other Lyctors worked and didn't actually bother making any attempt to extract Gideon. He also never seems to have realized what happened with G1deon and Pyrrha. Since he didn't obtain his relationship with Alecto in the same way the other Lyctors did with their cavaliers, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't entirely know how it works or what other kinds of anomalous things could happen during that process, and probably hasn't thought about what would happen if the cavalier was someone with his own level of immortality

We will find out in Nona that John is not handling the betrayals well, though personally how he is dealing with it I think is hilarious :-p

Well, hilarious sounds fun

Both Judith and Corona ARE mentioned in the guest list... :-)

Oh, I guess "The Captain" is Judith, and Corona is maybe "Crown Him with Many Crowns"? So then "you three" is Camilla, Pyrrha, and... Palamedes, maybe?

#the locked tomb #wellhappybirthdaytomeiguess

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ladytauria · 5 months

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tauria!! 9, 14, 21, 74, 80, 84, 104, 122 from the book rec ask game please <33

ahhh thank you maya!

9. your favourite book of 2020

ahh, i'm actually going to answer this for---last year, because i remember it and also bc i hit my reading goal last year!!

so my actual answer would be nona the ninth, but as i have already rec'd gideon to bean and mentioned harrow in this list, i shan't count it.

s o.

i think i'm gonna go with The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski, which is part one of a duology. the first is a retelling of cinderella, the second of sleeping beauty.

the first, to me, was much more enjoyable than the second, although i deeply enjoyed both. the first is singular pov, the second is split (i liked the LI's more!)

the book takes place on an island which is segregated into three classes / rings, each of which enjoys a vastly different quality of life than the other. the protagonist lives in the lowest class, where, if you're charged with a crime, no matter the severity, the guards can take any tribute they ask---from a few strands of hair to some blood to an eye, etc. she works with her guardian to help sneak people out of the lower ring and into the upper rings, and has always yearned for a taste of them hersellf. after spending a night in prison, she meets an outsider--the first on the island in many years--who helps her achieve just that.

also the plot twist in this book is. amazing.

14. a book that made you trip on literary acid

like. in the most positive way possible.

Harrow the Ninth.

look. i wasn't going to rec sequels. i wasn't.

but oh my god.

i walked away from this book with a headache and i said thank you ms. muir <3

(runner up answer would be the stars are legion, bc. oof. that book was a mind-fuck. again? best way possible. but also. damn.)

21. a book with a red cover

literally the first book that came to mind was Eldest, of the Inheritance Cycle.

(i was going to answer with "witches of ash & ruin by e. latimer" but my kindle cover is now blue -.- and uglier, imo. whatever.)

but, uh. The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett!! i started the discworld series with the tiffany aching series, and i highly recommend <3 the nac mac feegles make me giggle so much <3

also i deeply love tiffany and all of the things that pterry conveys through her <3

74. your favourite love triangle

i didn’t forget to answer this before i clicked post wdym

this is hard!!! ngl i actively avoid love triangles in books after being so inundated with them during some of my peak reading years lmao

ahhh but

i actually didn’t mind how the love triangle was handled in the early throne of glass books!

i don’t necessarily recommend those but i was. obsessed with them for a time xD

80. a book that reminds you of a loved one

i technically answered this on bean's! that would be "a girl of the limberlost" or "the secret garden" bc they both remind me of my mom.

also almost any murder mystery will remind me of her, as those were her favorite genre.

u h m. but to name a different book; i think of my brother every time i see a riordanverse book, particularly the Percy Jackson <3 i let him borrow my copies (i've. mostly forgiven him for their now beat up / falling apart state) and watching him develop his first otp / devour them was so sweet <3

104. a fluffy, sweet read

so i didn't technically rec it on bean's list, i just mentioned it.

Legends And Lattes - Travis Baldree! cozy, slice of life fantasy with a sapphic romance. an orc retires from adventuring to open a coffee shop in a city that's never heard of coffee. (its a gnomish thing.) has a lot of dnd-like setting things and so much found family <3

also it made me hungry, so like. have ur favorite warm drink & pastries on hand when you read it bc you may also end up wanting them <3

122. your favourite winter read

hmmm.

okay so first! um. when i think winter / autumn / summer / spring read i don't necessarily think about season in the book itself, but rather like... how i feel during those seasons. so! autumnal reads i prefer spookier vibes; summer i want lighter books i don't have to focus too much on bc the heat has melted my brain; and for winter i want books that are good for spending a long time under blankets, so. chunkier the better. (i don't know what a spring read is to me.)

i am going to answer this one with two books!

the first i have not actually read -- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon, which is a fucking beast of a book. i am... about 20%? through it? i think? but i had to put it down bc i couldn't give it the full attention it deserved. however, i think, due to its size, it would be a lovely book to devour over a handful of snowy days, curled up in blankets <33

the second i have read, and i actually wouldn't call this one chunky, but. i dunno. it's made for a nice evening read, i think. anyway! The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A McKilip.

[ book rec ask game ]

#i won't rec the locked tomb on every list of questions i get i promise #(fingers crossed im not lying)#ask gaming #livvyreads #waffleinator-inator #thank u for asking~~

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roseunspindle · 1 year

Text

Percy’s Half Siblings

ATriton - Son of Amphitrite and Poseidon - Poseidon’s messenger and herald

Benthesikyme - “Wave of the Deep” or “Lady of the deep swells” - Goddess of waves - Daughter of Amphitrite and Poseidon

Rhode - goddess and personification of the island of Rhodes. Wife of Helios. Daughter of Amphitrite and Poseidon

Antaeus - Son of Poseidon and Gaea - Half Giant

(Heracles killing Antaeus)

Charybdis - daughter of Poseidon and Gaea (in some sources) she was a loyal child to Poseidon but since she kept covering land with water for him Zeus got mad and chained her to the sea floor, cursing her and turning her into a “bladder” and made her thirsty for seawater, which when she drank it, caused whirlpools.

https://www.deviantart.com/c00lfr0g/art/Charybdis-388499917

Laestrygon - Son of Poseidon and Gaea, father of Telepora (wife of Aeolus) possible parent/creator of the Laitsrygonians.

Despoina - Daughter of Poseidon and Demeter - Goddess of Arcadian Mysteries/Veiled - born when poseidon went after demeter when both were horses.

Arion - Supernatural Horse (not sure if he’s a deity or just immortal creature) - Son of Demeter and Poseidon born when poseidon went after demeter when both were horses.

Pegasus - immortal winged-horse, Son of Poseidon and Medusa (or just sprang from Medusa’s blood when Perseus beheaded her)

Chrysaor - Son of Poseidon and Medusa - "he who has a golden sword" - might be the father of Echidna

Herophile -Sea-nymph, Daughter of Poseidon and Aphrodite, possibly a Delphic Sybil

Ergiscus - son of Poseidon and Aba (a naiad), the city of Ergisce in Istanbul was named after him.

Aethusa - Daughter of Poseidon and Alcyone (a pleiad) - caught Apollo’s eye and had two kids with him Eleuther and Linus- ancestor of Orpheus.

Hyrieus - Son of Poseidon and Alcyone (a pleiad) - possible father of Orion, most account call him a king of various places. (Boeotia, Thrace or Chios)

Hyperenor - son of Poseidon and Alcyone

Hyperes - son of Poseidon and the Pleiad Alcyone He was the father of Arethusa, mother of Abas by Poseidon. Founded the city of Hyperea.

Anthas - Son of Poseidon and Alcyone, founder of Anthea

Abas - son of Poseidon and Arethusa (yes his own granddaughter). Abas founded a tribe known as the Abantians or Abantes. He reigned over them as king. Possibly killed by his own grandson.

Halirrhothius - Son of Poseidon and Euryte or Bathycleia. He was killed by Ares for raping his daughter Alcippe.

Chrysomallos - Son of Bisalpis or Bisaltis or Theophane - Golden winged ram, rescued some people, was them sacrificed to Zeus and skinned.

Minyas - Son of Poseidon and somebody (there was a very long list of potential moms) a city founder.

Lycus - son of Poseidon and Celaeno, one of the Pleiades. Together with his brother Eurypylus, they ruled over the Isles of the Fortunate which their father blessed.

Nycteus - (possibly a son of Poseidon and Somebody) - King of Thebes

Eurypylus - Son of Poseidon and Celaeno, either ruled over the isles of the blessed with lycus or was a king of cyrene

Asopus - possibly a son of Poseidon, a river deity

Parnassus - unkown

Eumolpus - possibly a son of Poseidon and Chione - King of Thrace

Phaeax - Son of Poseidon and Korkrya - from whom the Phaeacians derived their name.

Eirene - daughter of Poseidon and Melantheia - gave her name to an island.

Amykos - Son of Poseidon and Melia - a king who would force people to box with them so he could kill them. Challenged the best of the Argonauts Polydueces, who killed him with a blow on the elbow.

Mygdon - Son of Poseidon and Melia, also a king, killed by Heracles on his way to his ninth labour.

Aspledon, a son of Poseidon and the nymph Mideia, a city in Boetia was named after him.

Astacus - son of Poseidon and the nymph Olbia, eponymous founder of Astacus, Bithynia.

Leches - son of Peirene and Poseidon, who was abducted by Poseidon. (squinty eyes at you mr. no-consent)

Evadne - daughter of Poseidon and Pitane who was raised by Aepytus of Arcadia. She fell in love with Apollo and of course got pregnant, the pregnancy was discovered by Aepytus, he was furious and left to consult the Oracle of Apollo. During the childbirth, Apollo sent Eileithyia and the Moirae to assist his lover and ease her pain. Evadne gave birth in the wilderness and left the child, Iamus, exposed to the elements. Five days later, Aepytus returned from the Delphi, where he had been told by Apollo's Oracle that Evadne's child was indeed the son of Apollo and destined to be a gifted prophet. He demanded that the child be brought to him, and so Evadne retrieved Iamus from the patch of violets where she had left him. Iamus had been nurtured for those five days by the honeybees that were sent by Apollo, or by the Fates. Evadne named the child Iamus (“Boy of the Violets”) He went on to found the Iamidae, a family of priests from Olympia.

Phocus - son of Poseidon and Pronoe

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ggomos-maribat · 2 years

Text

D-DAY Chapter 8 | 1 Day After

The video's label was W041209.

The face on the video was one that appeared across numerous billboards and advertisements in Paris. But instead of a plastic smile, he wore only fatigue. "Hi," the boy said monotonously. "I'm Adrien Agreste, the son of Gabriel Agreste, who had been previously unmasked as Hawkmoth nearly a year ago."

"Transformez -moi."

A greenish light radiated and covered the entire view in the camera. When it diminished, the former Parisian hero, Chat Noir, took Adrien's place. Chat gave a small smile. "I am also, well, Chat Noir." He sat up straighter. "I'm here to narrate the events of the ninth of December, the day Hawkmoth was found and defeated."

"But before that, I would like to say that I do not intend to condone or forgive my father's actions, and I will not ask you too, either. I won't try to apologize on his behalf. He caused the entirety of Paris to suffer for four long years. None of his reasons will ever justify the emotional, mental, and physical damages he brought upon the people of the city." Adrien laughed mordaciously. "In fact, I don't want to be referred to as his son anymore. In my time as a hero, I never once suspected him to be a terrorist. I've realized my mistake. I should've known sooner."

"His reasons for misusing the Butterfly Miraculous were entirely selfish and personal. However, I will not disclose the details of his motivations right now." He cleared his throat. If there was any light in his eyes before, it was now dimmed. "Now, for the events that transpired that day."

Tim pressed on a key to fast-forward the video. He eyed the way Adrien played with the ring on his finger, his Miraculous. While he had no reason to doubt the boy's words, he felt like there was underlying vital information he was missing.

Adrien Agreste. A friend of Marinette. Tim rubbed his temple.

"At the time of the recording of this video, I am also announcing my formal retirement as a hero." He let his transformation drop. "I will be renouncing my ring and it will be placed under Ladybug's guardianship. I've finally finished my duty to Paris now. The Parisians will know about my retirement ahead of time but for the D-Day viewers . . . please do not try to reach out to me to ask about Paris or the heroes' whereabouts."

He brought two fingers up in a loose salute, blinking away his tears. "This is Chat Noir signing off."

Tim stared at his reflection on the black screen. How many videos had he seen already? His subconscious wasn't giving up. There was something in those, and he was yet to figure it out.

His fingers habitually reached for the thermos where he kept his coffee. Where Marinette usually poured in his favorite brew. Marinette. He was missing her. It had only been one day and he missed her terribly.

He took a swig of his cold coffee. His lame attempt to mimic the recipe wasn't doing him any good. It wasn't the same. The drink tasted more bitter in his taste-buds, and it was harder to swallow down.

D-Day.

His mind transported him back to that night. When he last saw Marinette, so ethereal on the balcony.

"It was the fifth day. The world ended so many times and I always watched if I wasn’t the one falling alongside it.”

Fifth day.

Tim's breath hitched. D-Day wasn't on the fifth day of anything. The final battle with Hawkmoth was on the ninth of December. So what did Marinette mean when she said 'the fifth day'?

He threw himself into a search, getting immersed in every video with the digit '5' on it. The fifth day. The fifth day. The fifth day. But his efforts were unfruitful. There was no obvious pattern, no hidden clues on the attack footage, witness reports, or victim narratives.

Wiping a bead of sweat from his head, he thought again. What if I'm just being paranoid? What if Mari never meant to leave anything behind? World ending. So many times. How much of his line of thought did she anticipate?

Tim shot up from his bed and made a beeline to his desk. It might be futile, but he had to try. There was something Marinette 'left behind': their notes on the cold cases. Inside the neat folders, he could make out her smooth cursive on the margins of the papers.

He tried every combination: the fifth page of every file; the fifth note of every case, the papers with the number five on their dates. No, you're overthinking! It had to be something else. He snatched a pencil and scribbled on the first blank piece of paper he could find.

The fifth word of every case.

But what of the fifth word?

He shuffled through all the cases they did and jotted down the fifth word of her notes. Court. Criminal. Loose. Several. No, they don't string together to form a sentence no matter what the arrangement is. His pencil tapped against the edge of the table. Maybe the first letters?

His heart raced even though he didn't know what to expect from her clues. He wasn't even certain if what he was doing was making sense. After all those videos, does reality even make sense now? Still, he continued, writing with an almost illegible penmanship. Fifth word. Fifth word. Dead. Undone. 0.

Tim clicked his tongue when he completed the list. There's too many words. He took his laptop and entered all the first letters, hoping that the machine could run all the possible combinations. Line after line, both letters and numbers filled in one row of his screen.

Until it stopped.

P-L-A-C-E-D-U-C-H-A-T-E-L-E-T

7-5-0-0-1-P-A-R-I-S-F-R-A-N-C-E

He let out an almost hysterical laugh. She left something! She only said that to me. No one else could've figured it out.

In a second, he was looking up the place. It was the Agreste Mansion, the same place where the final battle took place. Why did Marinette make this message? Perhaps he'd only know the answer if he actually went to the place.

He released a heavy breath. The question was whether he'd tell his family or not.

---

"Where are the others?"

"Preparing for a flight to Paris." Barbara replied, not tearing her eyes from the screens. "Found anything?"

". . . Yes."

He might as well tell them because they were bound to find out if he went away on his own and he didn't know if he'd be able to face it alone. "Marinette left a message," he said. "Place du Chatelet, 75001, Paris, France."

"Agreste's house?"

"Looks like it." Tim took a look at the Batcomputer. "I can't access cameras near or inside it. We'll be checking it out ourselves."

Barbara sighed. "I'll try to look into it, too, before you leave."

"Have you got anything so far?" He saw different files and tabs opened up on the screen. Transcriptions of the witness videos, international articles, and analyses on the Miraculouses.

"It's weird actually." She sipped from her mug. "When asked, most of the citizens of Paris refuse to disclose more about the incidents. Some news stations are trying to get a bribe, but they're not saying any more than what we already know."

"Maybe they're asking rudely."

Barbara frowned. "I don't know. It might be a silent agreement of all the Parisians. Bruce called up his contacts earlier and they barely said anything too."

Tim plunged into deep thought again. He had no choice. He had to go to Paris.

To get explanations. To see her.

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Taglist: @its-maemain@tinybrie@worlds-tiniest-puff-pastry@the-coffee-fandom @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

#d-day #timari #timinette #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #ggomoz #maribat tim drake #maribat marinette dupain cheng #dc x miraculous

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miwritesss · 10 months

Text

The Acting Grand Sage's Unusual Birthday

The Acting Grand Sage doesn’t celebrate birthdays.

➳➳A Hailou fanfic for Alhaitham's Birthday 2023. First posted on Ao3.

✾Characters✾ Alhaitham x Nilou, Vikram (Genshin), Farghani (NPC) ✾Tags✾ Fluff, Established relationship, First relationship ✾Word Count✾ 4,070 words

✧Author's note✧ Twitter is whack and Ao3 is down. So, it's about time I start cross posting my works on another platform. I hope this serves as your temporary fic fix!

➳Ao3 Link: here

The Acting Grand Sage was alone, save for the pile of rejected funding requests and a square object wrapped in a green piece of cloth sitting on his desk. He untied the ends of the cloth, and it revealed a food container—a bento box produced in Inazuma—with a small note on top: Great work this morning, Acting Grand Sage! I hope this energizes you throughout the rest of your day. You can share it with your colleagues if you can't finish it all!

He picked up the piece of paper and found a doodle of his face on it, complete with his headphones, the sprout-like hair sticking up from his head, and his signature stoic expression. Smiling to himself, he tucked it in the book he brought and let it join the other eight mini Alhaithams he received from the same person: the red-haired girl who danced at the local theater almost every night.

Today's note was the ninth. That was how long this arrangement had been going ever since he informed her of his upcoming busy days, taking on the work of the Grand Sage in the morning and catching up with the Scribe's tasks in the afternoon. She would make her way to his place and knock on his door exactly when he was about to leave, carrying a big box of nutritious food that almost covered her face—his feeble body required a lot of sustaining. The meal Nilou prepared was indeed too much even for him, but he didn’t want to share her cooking with anyone.

"You don't have to go through this much trouble," he said as he closed the door of his home on the third day since this had started.

"But you've been too busy lately, right? You need to replenish your energy to get through the day. Watching your health is part of the Acting Grand Sage and the Scribe's job!" she said. Then she handed the bento to him before scurrying off to attend rehearsals at the Grand Bazaar with the previous day's empty box in hand.

She was correct. If the sole person, who fulfilled two important positions, would come down with something, Sumeru and its researchers would be in a conundrum. But that was beside the point. He wasn't the only one busy those days. The Zubayr Theater was working on a new production, and he wouldn't want her to be the one getting overworked, waking up as soon as the sun was out to prepare a feast for him. But even if he tried to convince her to stop going out of her way for him again, she wouldn’t buy it. She was stubborn that way, but he didn't want her to change. She had her own way of looking out for him, and that was one out of the countless things Alhaitham adored about her. The huge box of packed lunch that he dipped his spoon into symbolized her love, and he savored the taste of it.

Alhaitham looked down to his now empty bento and recalled her tense expression. I wonder what happened... He put the lid back on, knotted the cloth that covered it, and set it to the side.

As he enjoyed the flavors of his lover’s cooking, he remembered what happened on his doorstep this morning.

“Do you have time after work today?” she said with her hands clasped behind her back and her eyes set downcast to the side.

“I was planning on reading a book. Do you need me for anything?"

“No, I don’t!" She waved her hands in front of her. "I hope your work for today won’t tire you too much. Please do your best!”

And just like the other days, she set off for the Grand Bazaar, but she seemed to be in a hurry more than usual. She was practically running as if she was catching a deadline.

Knock, knock, knock—the sound came from the other side of the Scribe's office door. The Scribe paused the movement of his pen and looked at the clock on top of the door frame. It was seven minutes till work hours were done. He waited for the sound to go away and when it did, he resumed writing on the document on his desk.

Knock, knock, knock—the sound came back and the Scribe stopped from writing once again. He looked in its direction, but just as before, it disappeared as soon as he stared at it. And so he returned to his business.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK—the sound came beating on his door like how his roommate would work on his projects in the middle of the night. He sighed as he put down his pen, then promptly stood up.

Alhaitham had enough.

"Who is it?" He rushed to the door and opened it before the perpetrator realized that that was a bad idea. But he didn't expect them to be bold enough to launch a party popper right in his face.

"Surprise!" the accompanying voice said.

Luckily, Alhaitham was standing a few paces back, so he didn't feel the harsh impact of the strips of colored paper that hit his face. And when gravity decided to have some mercy on him, it pulled the confetti down to the ground, revealing his brows that were knitted more than usual. But a blue-colored piece was left hanging on top of his nose, as if mocking him.

He glared at his nuisance of a visitor and sighed. Of course it's "everybody's friend" Vikram.

Alhaitham removed the confetti from his face and moved to the side to let his unwelcome guest in. The man smiled at him and threw the remains of his party tool in the trash can, before strutting in like he owned the place. With a satisfied smile, he sat on the chair placed sideways in front of the Scribe's desk without saying another word.

"What can I do for Grand Conservator Vikram?" Alhaitham asked as he closed the door. He walked back to his desk and looked at the time—it was five minutes till 5 p.m.

"Oh please! I'm not the Grand Conservator yet. Show some respect to the other candidate! Rifaet's from the same Darshan as you." He spread his palms out in front of him to express his obvious statement, until his eyes lit up. "Unless…" He retracted his arms and put a hand under his chin. "You think I'm suited for the role, do you?" He proudly smiled to himself.

"You're mistaken," Alhaitham said without lifting his gaze from the document. "I am simply reiterating what I've observed from the halls, and a great percentage of scholars favors you. Vahumana is doing a commendable job in promoting you."

As the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham needed to turn his music player off to monitor the gossip of the students, and from his numerous, ear-wrenching trips down the halls of the Akademiya, he found out that they were all focused on the two candidates for the next Grand Conservator. The Friends of Vikram Fraternity dedicated themselves to spreading word of the relaxed academic atmosphere that will come with Vikram’s election. The more serious Fravashi Reader Society promoted Rifaet for his talent and scholarly attitude. Even for proud scholars, the supporters of the two were wild bunches, arguing in the streets and duking it out in the tavern at night. The Akademiya even had to send new tableware to Lambad Tavern to apologize for the ones they broke.

Both sides had valid points. But to Alhaitham, Vikram's supporters just wanted to take advantage of his easy-going nature to make their lives easier when asking for funding and access to regulated texts in the library. Rifaet's quality research papers proved that he was a promising choice, but he wasn't a fan of social interaction, which posed a problem if he were to get such a high position. His Haravatat colleague was much like him, preferring to keep to himself and pursue his own interests.

"I see." Vikram folded his arms. "I just hope the sages fairly select who they think is best for the job. If it's not me, then I'm alright with it… Anyway, do you have plans later? How about we celebrate at the tavern?"

Alhaitham knitted his brows. "I see no reason to celebrate."

"Oh, come on! It's your birthday! I'll treat you to drinks." Vikram lurched forward and lightly slammed his hand down on the desk. "What do you say?" He smiled with his mouth open as he waited for a response. But Alhaitham just paused from writing, looked at the calendar on the right side of his desk, and returned his stoic expression.

Vikram's enthusiasm faded. "Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday…?"

Alhaitham nonchalantly looked at Vikram. "That seems to be the case."

Vikram stood up from his seat. "Who forgets their own birthday?!"

"I didn’t forget the date of my birth. I just treat it as any other day, which is why it didn’t occur to me that it was today."

Vikram put a palm to his forehead as if he suddenly got a headache. “So that’s why you didn’t react to the confetti…”

"I don’t usually celebrate my birthday." Alhaitham adjusted his hold on the pen. Except when grandmother was still alive. "It’s impractical." He resumed writing, signaling the end of the conversation.

Vikram blinked a few times and lowered his hand. “Well, that may be the case for you, but people who appreciate your existence in this world would want to show how much you mean to them on such a special day. If you don’t feel the need to celebrate, at least do it for the sake of your loved ones.” He stepped away from Alhaitham’s desk.

“If I forgot my own birthday, Gohar wouldn’t let me live the next day. She’d demand a whole day from me." Vikram chuckled. "But I wouldn’t mind spending the entire day with her." He rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow. "Maybe I should pretend to forget it for this year, hmmm…"

After a moment of thought, he remembered why he came to the Scribe's office in the first place. “So, should I book a table at the tavern?”

“No,” Alhaitham said without looking at him.

"Awww, too bad!" Vikram walked to the door. "Oh well. I just hope you don’t spend your day all alone, or get a headache over your roommate's antics.” He opened the door and stepped outside. “Have a happy birthday, Acting Grand Sage." Vikram waved goodbye and was about to close the door, until Alhaitham spoke.

"Wait." He turned his attention to Vikram.

"What? Did you change your mind?"

"No." Alhaitham pointed to the floor in front of Vikram, making the latter look down. "Pick those up. There's a garbage can by the door."

"Oh, right." Vikram stepped back inside and squatted down to pick up the pieces of confetti with the door open behind him.

"Hey, Vikram!" a researcher called out. "What are you doing, sticking your butt out of the Scribe's office? Is he even there?" The man with a Rtawahist emblem on his hat paused in front of the doorway and looked at the desk inside the room. His eyes widened at the sight of the Scribe, who nodded to him in acknowledgement. He quickly nodded back to him and turned his attention to Vikram.

"Oh, it's you, Farghani! Long time no see!" Vikram turned around and looked up. "Last time I saw you, we were in Puspa Cafe, drinking coffee as we skipped Math class years ago!"

"You liar. We just ran into each other the other day," Farghani said. "And don't get me started with Math class. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be having such a difficult time working on my calculations right now!"

"But you gotta admit that Math class is boring, right?" Vikram said as he continued picking colored paper from the floor.

"I don’t want to hear that from someone who got high grades despite skipping class all the time!” Farghani sighed. "More importantly, what did you do this time?"

"Nothing much. Just thought that launching a party popper would liven things up over here." Vikram picked up the last piece and stood up to throw all of them in the trash.

"Party popper? For what?"

Vikram faced Farghani. "It's the Scribe's birthday today! You should greet him." He moved to the side.

"O-oh." Farghani looked at Alhaitham, who was minding his own business. "Happy birthday, Alhaitham!"

Alhaitham looked up. "Thank you," he said. Then he returned to his writing.

"Now don't go spreading details about his birthday to anyone else,” Vikram whispered. "He doesn't like the attention, and the noise."

"But you literally launched confetti in his office," Farghani whispered back.

"Well." Vikram gestured for Farghani to let him pass. "I'm one of the rare ones who has the audacity to do so." He stepped out of the door and held the knob. "We'll be taking it from here, Alhaitham!"

"Have a good evening, Scribe." Farghani nodded to Alhaitham before Vikram closed the door. And in an instant, peace was restored in the office.

Alhaitham put his pen down and placed the last document of the day on top of the pile of finished ones. So that’s why Nilou was acting like that. It was his birthday today. He leaned back in his seat, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his arms. It was time for a moment of contemplation.

The only chances he got to spend time with Nilou for the past few weeks was when she delivered his packed lunch in the morning. His weekends were spent alone in his home, reading the book he'd been wanting to finish. And based on his own observations, as well as numerous Vahumana researches on romantic relationships, a significant other would demand attention from their other half once they feel that they aren't being treated as such. As Nilou's lover, it was one of his duties to act like one, and with this being his first (same as hers), he was doing a bad job at it. But despite his busy schedule and his general preference for being alone, Nilou neither complained about being neglected nor showed signs of wanting to split up. Her actions weren't in line with what he read and observed. Instead, she didn't say anything and fully understood his case no matter the circumstances.

But still… Alhaitham furrowed his brows. Now that he sat down to think, he realized that he missed her. Her calming presence, soft voice, sweet giggles, aqua eyes that glittered when he stared back at them, the blush on her cheeks, the feel of her lips—everything. It was his birthday, and knowing his beloved, she wouldn't miss it for the world. He was sure of it, and he found himself looking forward to her plans for him today.

Without a word, he stood up from his seat, grabbed the empty bento box, and left his office.

With the empty bento box in hand, Alhaitham trekked down the walkway from the Akademiya to his home. He stopped upon reaching the Eremite stationed in the area, surprised to find a familiar figure sitting on his doorstep, leaning on the post that supported the canopy. He approached his red-haired guest and saw that she had her eyes closed while hugging a rectangular object in a decorative paper wrapping—most likely a book. Beside her was a casserole, the contents still warm. He looked to the side of her hips and was glad to see a sling bag hanging from her shoulder. If she didn't bring one, then she would have to carry all of the gifts with her small hands.

On one knee, he leaned down in front of her, and furrowed his brows in concern. I shouldn’t have let you cook for me. Now, you ended up tiring yourself more than necessary. He carefully moved the red locks that covered her face. "I'm sorry." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, the warmth from his lips waking her up.

"Alhaitham?" She slowly opened her sleepy eyes and found a pair of turquoise ones staring back at her. "Since when did you get here?”

Alhaitham moved his face away. With his default stoic expression, he said, “About 10 minutes ago.”

“That long? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I took the chance to admire your sleeping face. I find it adorable.”

“Eh?" She covered her cheeks with both of her hands and blushed.

“Haha," a small laugh came from the man in front of her.

“Why are you laughing? You’re teasing me, aren’t you?"

"You know it."

She pouted at him and opened her mouth to make a retort, but she pursed her lips again upon seeing a gentle smile on his face. An expressive Alhaitham was a rare sight, so she shrugged it off and smiled.

"Anyway, happy birthday, Alhaitham!" She handed him her gift. "I brought some food I cooked as well." Then she pointed at the casserole beside her. It was one of her dishes that he loved.

"Thank you, Nilou."

“Don’t mention it!” Nilou stood up and stepped away from the post. "I hope you enjoy everything! I'll be going now." She turned around and was about to walk away, but Alhaitham held her wrist before she could take another step.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

She stopped and turned around to face him. He let go of her hand. "I'm going back to the Grand Bazaar." She looked up at him. "You plan on reading a book tonight, right? I don't want to disturb you further."

"Actually, I'd prefer you to stay."

"But what about your book?" she asked curiously.

"That can wait. You made plans for me today, correct?"

Nilou set her eyes to the side and clasped her hands behind her back. "I-I do."

Alhaitham smiled. "Then I'd like to see what you have in store for me." He stepped closer to her and placed his hand on her cheek, making her lift her head and gaze back at him. He let his hand linger there as he stared back at her eyes, finding a hint of hesitation in them. "Let's go." He trailed his hand down her arm and stopped its descent when it reached her hand.

"But," she exclaimed.

"No buts." He held Nilou's hand and led her to his door. “Hold this.” He handed the gift to Nilou, and used his free hand to bring out his key from his belt bag.

"Hmm?" His eyes slightly widened, surprised to see another key with a lion mascot hanging from his own.

"That's Mr. Kaveh's, right?" Nilou asked.

"Yes. It seems that I accidentally got his key." He unlocked the door. "But it's alright." He gestured for Nilou to step inside. Before entering his home, he squatted down to get the casserole with both hands, and used his foot to close the door.

"He's lucky that we're here now. He won't be needing the key anymore," Nilou said as they walked further inside.

"That's not what I meant." Alhaitham put the casserole on the table in the living room and returned to the door. Nilou sat down on the couch placed in the center and put her bag behind her. With the room silent, she heard a faint click—the sound of a door being locked.

Alhaitham walked back inside and sat down beside her. "I've decided that his birthday gift for me would be his absence."

Nilou widened her eyes. "Then where will he sleep tonight?"

"That's his problem now. He should think of this as a test for his survival skills. But I don't think he's planning to come home tonight anyway." He looked at Nilou's gift on the table and reached for it. "He seems to be working on a big project."

As he turned the gift around in his hands, he heard Nilou taking deep breaths beside him.

“Why are you nervous? You’ve been here several times before," he asked.

"I-I know. I’m just thinking about the gift I got you. I thought of it for a long time, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

He opened the wrap and read the cover of the book. “On The Soul.”

“Do you like it?” She peeked at his face.

“Yes.” He flipped through the contents of the book. “But I've already read this.”

“As expected!” She grabbed the book from him and retreated to the other end of the couch. “I’ll get you another one!”

“You don’t have to.” Alhaitham scooted over to her and grabbed the book with both hands. “I’ll gladly accept this. Thank you.” He placed the book on the table, and returned his gaze to her.

“Are you sure? You should receive a birthday gift that makes you happy...”

"I didn't say that it didn't make me happy. I already planned on donating my copy to the library, so I'll be keeping your gift instead.” He lifted her up and placed her sideways on his lap. "If you’re not convinced, then how about we go to the bookstore this weekend? We can buy some Tahchin and do some shopping while we’re at it. Maybe make a trip to Pardis Dhyai, too.”

She beamed. “That would be great! I've always wondered what flowers they grew there. It would be more fun to look at them with you!” She smiled brightly at him, her precious aqua eyes sparkled like gems, filled with excitement. And he realized how much that look on her face gave him energy, as if encountering an oasis in the middle of the hot desert.

He gently smiled at her. "So, how will you celebrate me today?" He shifted her sitting position and put her legs to his sides, eager to monopolize the face that he adored so much.

"Oh, umm..." Her hands automatically settled on his hard chest, and when she realized how close their faces were, her face tinged pink.

He wrapped his arms around her back. "I'm sorry I couldn't spend more time with you for the past weeks. And for making you wait outside of my house."

Good thing there was a guard near his home, or else he would have spent his birthday committing acts of violence if anyone dared to touch Nilou as she innocently napped away. Of course, he was joking. Or was he? Even Nilou wouldn't know the answer. He couldn't tell her that he forgot about his birthday being today, though, as it would only make her worry.

"You don't have to apologize! Being the Acting Grand Sage is not an easy feat. The least I could do is support you. And for your birthday, I prepared a new dance!"

You're too good for me.

"Then…" He held her closer, just enough for their torsos to touch. "How about we try a different dance tonight?"

"Eh?"

With a knowing smile on his face and his eyes half-lidded, Alhaitham ran a finger up the side of her thigh with slow movements. When she realized what he meant, her face became as red as her hair, earning a laugh from him.

"Alhaitham! Just because it's your birthday today, doesn't mean you get to tease me all you want!" She backed away and grabbed his cheeks to lightly squeeze them. She was still gentle even when she's angry.

He held her wrists and placed them over his shoulders. "I was just joking." He lightly kissed her lips, making her pause. "But a few kisses would be fine, right?"

Nilou stared at his eyes and slowly nodded.

"Thank you for always thinking of me, Nilou. It isn't obvious but you should know that I love you very much."

"I love you too, Alhaitham! I hope we can spend more of our birthdays together."

The Scribe and the Star warmly smiled at each other, their eyes reflecting the most irreplaceable treasures in their lives. And as soon as Nilou wrapped her arms around his neck, Alhaitham wasted no time in bringing his face closer to hers. While he claimed her sweet lips and hugged her close, he thought to himself: he wouldn't mind being a little enthusiastic for his birthday every year if it meant getting to spend time with the love of his life.

✧Ending Notes✧ To those who haven't read this on Ao3 before, you might be wondering who Vikram, Gohar, and Rifaet are. They're Sumeru characters mentioned by several NPCs! You can find more about them from this thread I made on my multi-fandom Twitter account. (I made the thread long before I started sharing my fanfics online, hence why I didn't get to post it on my shipping account.) Hopefully, these three will become playable soon! I got my eyes on you, Vikram!

#alhaitham x nilou #hailou #hailou fanfic #alhaitham #nilou #genshin fanfic #they're so in love i know #I need Vikram and Gohar as a canon couple

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mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea · 1 year

Note

I'll be greedy #30 Under the Rain and #53 Keeping a Secret. As for the pairings author's choice :)

#30 Under the Rain (Loki/Bucky)

On the night of their ninth date, while walking back to the tower after dinner and listening to the band at the bar, Loki found himself pushed up against the recessed entryway to a shop that had closed for the night; Bucky’s hands pinned Loki’s hips in place, and his mouth pressed rough and hungry to his boyfriend’s, his hunger easy to decipher. Loki’s wrists crossed at the back of Bucky’s neck, his fingers tugging cinnamon locks free from the ponytail to bury, and the passionate burst of a laugh caressed Bucky’s lips in a warm breath.

They were still blocks from home, and the two men had to force themselves to pull apart before they were arrested for indecent exposure or any number of sexual crimes they were more than eager to commit. Bucky locked his fingers with Loki’s and tugged him away from the enclosed shopfront so they could get back to his apartment – or Loki’s, it really didn’t matter whose bed they fucked in, just that they finally consummated this new relationship in the raunchiest, most naked way possible, as they’d been building up to this moment for months; the moment they stepped away from their cover, the sky streaked with lightning, thunder shook and rattled the windows, and rain drenched the two lovebirds in an unexpected downpour.

“Norns-dammit, Thor,” Loki growled as he realized that his idiot older brother had overheard the two of them planning for this steamy end of their date, and he sighed and rolled his eyes, and checkmated the buzzkill God of Thunder by apparating him and Bucky back to the tower.

#53 Keeping a Secret (Emma/Tony)

Emma followed Tony into the quiet calm of his penthouse, her ears still buzzing from the music and constant buzz of endless conversation downstairs on the communal floor where her ‘surprise birthday party’ had taken place. Everyone’s minds had been an open book to the powerful telepath over the last month while Tony planned this party to surprise her, and even though Emma had caught glimpses of the plans from everyone she encountered from Scott and Logan at the school to Bobby and Christian, and of course, to the other Avengers, she’d played along and pretended to be surprised when Tony led her into the room filled to the brim with friends and food and drink alike.

“I hope you had fun, Em,” Tony was saying while he walked beside her, bringing her hand to his lips while JARVIS adjusted the lights as they stepped into Tony’s huge bedroom; the AI particularly spotlighted the five foot brown-furred teddybear sitting at the center of the king-sized bed, and between the bear’s legs, Emma’s favorite t-shirt of Tony’s that she liked to steal the most lay folded and waiting for her to put on.

“I had a great deal of fun, darling, and you went to a lot of trouble to surprise me, knowing how little I can be surprised,” Emma gentled her words to him, even as she moved closer to the bed to examine this large stuffed monster bear that hadn’t been there earlier in the evening when they’d dressed before going down to the party, and she felt Tony’s arms circle her waist from behind, his chest to her back.

“Surprise!” Tony whisper-exclaimed and kissed along her neck to her shoulder, already unbuttoning her shirt so that his birthday girl could get comfortable for a night of cuddling, making-out, and eventually falling asleep in his loving arms.

5 Sentence Drabble Prompts

#5 sentence drabble prompts #scottxlogan #Loki #Bucky Barnes #Winterfrost #Loki x Bucky #Emma Frost #Tony Stark #Ironqueen #Irondiamond #Emma x Tony #Thanks for the asks!

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himbos-hotline · 1 year

Note

“ that hurt more than a brazilian wax . ” for some platonic/sibling banter between matt and nick!

BTE buddies

Word count: 2854 words Ship: Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson, Jay Orton & Nick Jackon & Matt Jackson, Mentioned Jay Orton/ Kenny Omega Characters: Brandon Culter, Matt Jackson, Nick Jackson, Jay Orton, Mentioned Kenny Omega [The ghost of Kenny Omega] Triggers: none! just good family fluff! Authors note: I started writing this while I was sick and not having a fun time. The idea wouldn't leave my head so I had to purge it from my mind. Oh! Nick has a caffine sentitity as well as being autistic because I am autistic and so are the Buck's because I say so. Found on AO3

Jay is startled awake by the feeling of someone tapping impatiently on his cheek. He whines, lifting a pillow over his face, legs stretching out under the covers. The tapping doesn’t stop, it only moves to become more frequent and more annoying, round nails digging into the bend of her arm. She blinks for a few seconds under the darkness of the pillow, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the early morning sun shimmering through the half open curtains.

“What the fuck Nick?!” Jay startles when her brother pulls the pillow away; blue eyes way too bright and awake for, according to the clock on her phone, seven o’clock on a Monday morning. He stares at her, hands flailing wildly and Jay squints suspiciously, trying to keep up with how fast he was talking. He turns his face towards the mass of bags scattered across the hotel room floor, pressing his lips together almost like he's disappointed at the mess and Jay gives up on trying to piece together what's going on.

They lean around their brother who moves to sit cross legged on the bed, drumming his fingers against his knees and grabs their hearing aids. the world crackles into existence with a robotic voice telling Jay that she turned them on. Nick interrupts the voice by grabbing Jay by the face for a few seconds before he recoils. “Ew morning breath. Anyway!”

Jay blinks, licking the back of their hand before recoiling. Maybe Nick was right. Jay's mouth feels dry and there's the somewhat distant taste of Kenny on her tongue. There's a flash of a memory, the warmth of a blush against their cheeks before Jay simply shakes zeir head and tunes back into what her brother is saying.

“And then we can go buy you a cake and then we can have an entire party and the-”

His words are looping together, connecting as if they were beads being strung together to make a random word vomit necklace. It makes Jay’s head spin and they have to swallow that feeling away before she could speak, taking her brother's hands and holding them on the comforter. “Nicky, bud. What the hell are you talking about?” He tilts his head and Nick copies his movements. “I’ve been awake for ten fucking minutes…how are you so fucking awake?”

“Oh!” He straightens, rocking to sit on his knees. “I stole one of your monsters. Matt brought you some and I was sure you wouldn't miss one. Anyway-” He pulls a hand out of Jay’s and waves it around, dismissing and silencing any other questions that might interrupt his train of thought. “I was talking about your birthday!”

“My birthday isn't until the twenty-ninth. It’s like next week.”

“Yeah but it's your BTE birthday”

“What?”

Nick rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed at Jay’s lack of understanding at how his brain works. “Your BTE birthday; We have your birthday today and you open presents and we get it on camera so we don’t have to delay everything just because your parents couldn’t pop you out earlier.”

“Gross.” Jay presses her lips together thinking. “Sounds reasonable enough, are you sure you-” Nick seemingly has to stop himself from closing his hand around Jay’s mouth, because he grips his jeans and mumbles something under his breath.

“Yes we want you on the show idiot. You’re our brother.” He holds Jay’s face softly, poking at the scar on his chin. “Plus you do stupid things and it might boost our ratings.”

“I got that-” Jay swats at his hand, blunt nails poking at his hands. He squarks, curling his hands into his chest. “Because you bet me twenty bucks to skateboard off the diving board”

“It's not my fault you fell!”

“Oh it so is!”

“It so isn't!”

“You didn't even give me the twenty bucks!”

“Because you have me! And Matt! You have two Bucks that's all you need!”

Jay opens his mouth to say something before a knock at the door startles them both. Nick jumps hard enough that he smacks himself in the face. Jay presses their lips together again, swallowing a laugh as she wiggles out from under the covers and peaks through the keyhole. “Your brothers back with what I hope is breakfast” Jay opens the door, tipping his head politely as Matt wanders through the door. “I’m gonna go shower. Same me food yeah?”

“No, shower after breakfast!” Matt yells, chuckling when Jay raises a middle finger and sticks it through the gap in the closing bathroom door. “I’m gonna go through your stuff!”

“Touch my stuff I will ask Kenny to V-trigger you” Jay’s voice is muffled by the closed door.

“Kenny loves us!”

“Yes but he loves me more!” There’s the sound of water running behind the closed door, heavy and rain-like. It signals the end of the conversation between the three of them. Nick looks at Matt and Matt raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I got them to agree to the BTE birthday” Nick grins as he rolls off the bed, sitting on the floor beside his brother, snatching a small box of cereal and tapping his fingers against the cardboard box.

“Great. Do you think she's gonna like what we got for him?” Matt pulls a nervous face, reaching over to open the small box of cereal as if Nick was six again and stalling his breakfast so he could miss the school bus. Nick opens his mouth to complain, to argue that he’s not a child but it's clear that his brother needs something to do with his hands, so he leans against the couch and stretches his legs out in front of him.

“He's gonna love it, Matty. Honest.” He looks at the closed bathroom door, tilts his head to the side to stare at the hotel room door and as if suddenly remembering that it’s not their shared room, turns back to his brother and asks. “Where’d Kenny go?”

“He’s gone to plan the surprise party, Y'know book the room and everything.”

Nick nods, takes his cereal back and uses the plastic wrapper to separate the multigrain shapes into small piles, picking at them as Matt rolls his eyes. “What?”

“You’re so weird.”

“We’re both weird, we’re twins.”

Matt reaches out to smack Nick upside the head. “We’re not twins.”

~ Jay didn’t get breakfast after the shower. He tries not to think about it as time ticks by and she’s dragged around the arena behind her brothers. Matt’s talking about something that sounds important but the hunger that bites at Jay’s stomach makes it hard to focus on anything other than it’ll be less than an hour until catering opens and Jay might actually get to eat something that Matt and Nick won’t steal.

“Jay.” Matt is poking zem now in the arm with the back of an earring. It hurts and Jay recoils his arm slightly, raising her hand up in silent apology before turning to look at Brandon.

She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head, nodding when Brandon shrugs and turns the camera back to Matt. “What?” He asks when Matt stares unimpressed down at the camera lens. Matt just shakes his head and places his earring back into his ear. “Gross.”

“Nick the blindfold!”

“Nick the, what?” Jay asks, squirming when Nick covers their eyes with a headband. It smells of hairspray and Jay coughs as she anxiously scrambles for some sort of purchase on anything to lead zem wherever her brothers want him to go. “I’m gonna fucking kill you” She curses, nearly smacking Matt in the face. She pats his hair, pokes him in the eye before gripping his shoulder.

Jay listens to the sounds of the small groups footsteps merging together, Matt cursing when Jay steps on the back of his foot. “We’ll if you didnt blindfold me like this is suddenly some weird kinda sex cult I wouldn’t have stepped on you Matthew.”

“Well that's just mean now Jay.” Matt grumbles, taking his sister's hand off his shoulder, choosing to loop his arm around her side. There's the familiar click of a locker room door opening and there's a small whimper of fear that bounces past Jay’s lips when he goes to fiddle with his lip rings. “Hey,” any anger in his voice, no matter how playful it was, has disappeared being replaced with the ever calm, comforting hum. “It’s okay.” He taps Jay once on their knuckles, nail tracing the small golden star tattoo. It's a soft moment that settles the anxiety that had settled at the bottom of Jay’s stomach.

She squeezes his brother's hand and smiles when he sits her down. The carpet is sharp and rubs into the exposed skin on Jay’s shins. He hears distant movement, the quick crumpling of paper and Nick twittering under his breath, making small excited bird calls as footsteps get closer.

Jay feels the makeshift blindfold get pulled off his face and for a few moments, he blinks as his eyes adjust to the bright lights of the locker room. The small red light of the camera stares down at him, making him feel somewhat like a deer stuck in headlights- shifting back and nearly knocking Nick off his feet. “Hey are you okay?”

Jay nods quickly, shaking his hands out in from of zem. The bad feelings float away from his body like smoke from a discarded cigarette. With satisfied nods from zeir brothers and Brandon, Jay shifts back into sitting in the middle of the rug; legs crossed and head tilted curiously to the side. “Can't we just go get food guys?”

“After your birthday presents. Honest.” Matt gives them a smile which makes Jay half suspect that their big brother is lying to him. She presses her lips into a suspicious thin line and Matt represses the urge to roll his eyes, using his foot to nudge a package closer to Jay’s knee.

The wrapping paper is garish; bright flashes of electric colors that reminds Jay of fruit scattering the floor of an orchard. He stares at them for a little while, tracing the shapes between the blocks of yellow and red before looking up at his brothers skeptically.

“Open them! Cmon!” Matt whines, rolling his wrist. He gets his bottom lip out in a pout and Jay sighs softly, rolling zeir eyes when soft brown eyes widen and a small “please?” is whimpered as the dramatic pout deepens. Jay thinks that Matt and Nick are lucky that she likes them, otherwise he would have punched them both in the mouth by now.

He picks up a package and squints as if trying to look through the paper and into the package underneath it. Nick presses his hands over Jay’s quickly, “don’t shake it.”

“Nick, you have three.” Jay’s voice is soft and full of warning. Nick’s hands are shaking over his, the tips of his fingers are sticky from yet another can of energy drink he stole. It all makes Jay feel like his skin is going to peel off. They stare at Nick and Nick stares back before dropping his hands. The two of them have a silent conversation of looks and furrowed eyebrows and Brandon zooms in, quietly questioning Matt if he understands.

Nick drops his hands and Jay tilts the package in their hands, hunting for a small opening to tear at the paper. She worms a nail in and listens to the satisfying tear as the paper falls away.

Jay settles the open package on his lip, holding it softly. They’re quiet for a few seconds, face neutral. An uncomfortable silence falls over the locker room. Nick looks at Matt and Matt stares back. There’s another silent conversation between siblings before Matt stretches a leg out and kicks Nick in the hip. Brandon tilts his head confused and Matt just flails a hand. “It was Nick’s idea.”

“He doesn’t like it.” Matt states, shaking his head as his brother rolls onto his stomach, laying his head against the curve of Jay’s hip, a baby brother sneaking away to the sanctuary of the middle sibling. Someone who’d fight his stupid battles for him.

“No.” Jay states, looking up when she feels eyes, and camera lens, snapping to look at her. “I love it.” Her voice cracks slightly, using her nail to rip through the cardboard and almost like he’s picking up a newborn, zey cradles the video camera close to his chest. “Its great.”

“Then why are you crying?” Nick asks, looking up at his middle sibling through his eyelashes. Jay presses their eyebrows together and he pulls a dramatic frown, reaching up to wipe a tear that spills its way onto the apple of Jay’s cheek. Jay shrugs and Nick furrows his eyebrows confused.

“It’s great guys, really. Is it for me like honestly?” the question sounds stupid asked outloud, her name is clearly written in Matts dramatic, curly handwriting and nick had clearly told him that it was their BTE birthday. “Thank you!” Jay is careful to place the video camera back into its box and leans forward on his knees to place it carefully on the table. “You guys are great y'know that?”

Matt rubs his nails against his shirt, tilting his head back with an aura of playful smugness. “We know.” Jay hears Nick sigh behind zem and flinches when he rolls his hips forward and kicks Matt in the leg.

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“What the fuck?!”

Nick rocks back into his potion, with his head in his sister's lap. “You were being annoying!” Nick lands small kicks against his brother's shins, grunting with effort. Matt squeals, pulling his legs close to his chest.

“Hey!” He cuddles his legs closer, resting his chin on his knees. “That hurt more than a Brazilian wax.”

Jay shoots his head up from fiddling with the video camera. “Matt what the hell?”

“He had one in college. For a guy he liked.”

“Yeah and he stood me up!”

“No you stood HIM up.” Nick corrects, raising his arm just to let it hang in the air.

“Aren't you aro-ace Matty?” Jay questions, swatting at Nick’s hand as he pokes at one of her hearing aids like a cat dipping an anxious paw into a glass of water.

“I didn't always know that!: you can talk sis- your boyfriend gave you your gender crisis!”

Brandon nudges Matt's knee with his hand. “Today isn't about you two.” He clarifies and Jay tries to suppress the small laugh that bubbles in his throat. Matt stares down at Nick as if to say ‘yeah’ and Nick pokes his tongue out and snuggles his face into Jay's stomach tiredly. “Caffeine crash huh Nick?”

“Shut up.” He grumbles.

“Anyway; you've got one more gift to open kiddo.” Brandon shifts the camera over to let it sit on the table, playing around with a few settings before revealing another box covered in the same garish wrapping paper. Jay takes it carefully in his hands and waits for a few moments for Nick to tell zem to not to shake it. There’s no reply and Jay smiles softly, either guessing that the caffeine has left his system leaving him a tired, empty lump or that he’s lying in wait for something to plan out.

He opens the box cautiously, using Nick as a table to rest it on she splits open the flaps and taps Nick awake in excitement. “It's a polaroid!” He squeaks. She told the camera out, looking down the lens. Nick pushes a button and Jay tumbles back, squawking in surprise as she lands with a thud on her back. “Ow'' she mumbles, playfully frowning when her brothers burst into laughter. The picture rolls out; mostly a blurry picture of the white wall and a flash of Jay's hair. He grins, turning it around to show the camera. “I have my own little BTE buddies!”

Matt shift’s Brandon’s camera, making sure Jay is still in the shot. “Hey, you guys should watch my brother's show.” He turns the camera off, leaving it to rest on the table as he reaches down to help Jay up. “Yeah I guess you do.” Brandon taps Jay politely on the curve of his arm and soon the two of them have launched into a conversation with Brandon showing them how everything works.

Matt practically has to drag Nick into standing. “Let's get you something to eat. Before you fall asleep again.”

“Did not fall asleep.” Nick complains, yawning. “Okay, I might have fallen asleep.”

“If I get food from catering, I'm not letting you steal it.”

Nick squirms out of his brother's grasp, choosing to curl up on the small couch, using his jacket as a blanket.

“Do you guys need anything from the snack machine?” He asks Jay and Brandon, getting no reply until he slams the door to the locker room shut. Matt pays no attention to the request.

Or at least, that's what he tells him on the way to catering.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @racerchix21 @itsnoosetome @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#mouse writes #all elite wrestling fanfic #matt jackson #nick jackson #OC: Jay Orton

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lightmeuplivly · 2 years

Text

Stuck with you

Steve Harrington x reader

summary: you and steve used to be bestfriends until someone caught feelings...

WC: 1.1k

(not proof read)

(not my gif)

You had known Steve Harrington before he even became Steve Harrington. You were his best friend from kindergarten to ninth grade. He stopped talking to you in ninth grade when you sorta revealed that you had feelings for him. But how could you not? He had a great sense of humor and great hair. You were seriously disappointed when you realized there was no way he would ever like you back. You really were heartbroken when he started dating Nancy Wheeler. You didn’t dislike her, you just didn’t like that she was dating Steve. When you think back to that day you tried to tell him you liked him you try to imagine what it would be like if you didn’t say anything at all…

“Hey stevie,” you said walking with him after school.

“Y/N, you know I hate it when you call me that” he said.

“What? it’s a cute nickname.” you retaliated.

You were excited for this day. This was the day you would tell your best friend that you liked him. You had liked him since fifth grade and finally built up the courage to tell him.

“Steve, I have a serious question for you,” you said quietly.

“Sure what’s up”

“What would you do if I ever told you that I liked you”

This was the way you would do it. Give him a hypothetical and hope for the best.

“ I would probably barf because I could never date you. I only see you as a friend.” He said laughing.

Your heart broke right then and there. At that moment you wanted to run to your room and cry all night. You looked at him with watered eyes. You tried to cover them up by wiping them away but it only made things worse.

“ Wait, you don’t actually like me do you?”

He already knew the answer to that judging by your face. He didn’t know about your crush on him at all. He hadn’t noticed any of the hints you gave him but now it was crystal clear. The way you didn’t want to hangout with anyone else but him, or the times you just looked at him with heart eyes and he didn’t notice. But now it all came crashing down.

“No way! Just thought about that and just said it. Sorry that was weird.” and with that you just walked away with tears falling down your cheeks.

And after that you never really talked to him again. Maybe a few encounters over the years but not the way it used to be. But three years later you still feel the same way you felt then. You never knew why though. He literally rejected you in almost the worst way possible but you just couldn’t shake him. Was that love? No it couldn’t be. These days Steve Harrington was single and hung out with Robin Buckley and a bunch of freshmen. You thought it was cute that Steve was friends with them. He was kinda like their babysitter even though they weren’t babies. You really wish that you and Steve were friends again. He was your rock for years and then one day he just wasn’t. You never really thought about what Steve felt like. I mean you obviously meant something to him, so how did he feel when you stopped being friends?

Well, he was just as heartbroken as you. He didn’t tell you that day but he had growing feelings for you too. Why didn't he tell you that day? He was scared. He was scared that if you guys had started a relationship and something bad happened he would lose you forever. Every day since you both stopped being friends he imagined what it would be like if he just was a man and told you. Maybe you guys would still be together, maybe not. But right now senior year, he wished he would have rolled those dice with you. When he saw you in the halls he thought you looked more beautiful by the day. These casual hookups he was having could never ever compare to you. After his latest hookup with Veronica Walters (name i made up) he realized he was just trying to cope with his loneliness with these girls. Then he found out why…

You…

When he went home that night he made a plan to tell you his feelings. Even though it was three years later he just had to let you know and maybe there would be a slight chance you still felt the same.

When Monday came around you were sitting at lunch eating with a few of your new friends you made after Steve. Ava and Oliver (sorry if that’s your names), you never told them about your past with Steve, you actually never told anyone because it’s kind of an embarrassing story. You guys were talking about what you would do for spring break when you saw no one other than Steve walking towards you.

Your heart started beating super fast. ‘Maybe he wasn’t walking towards you’ you thought, but when he stopped right in front of you it was obvious.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” he breathed out. He was nervous as hell and it was definitely showing.

“Yeah, sure Steve” you said trying to calm your nerves.

You guys walked outside next to a tree you used to always go to when in middle school. It reminded you both of good memories.

“Y/N,” He started

“I know that we haven’t talked in like three years but I’ve been thinking about you all the time and when I see you in the hallways my heart stops because you look so pretty. And that day when you sorta told me you liked me, well I didn’t tell you at the time but I liked you too and the only reason I didn’t say anything was because I was scared of losing you but now I realize not having you by my side everyday is worse. I know it’s been so long and you probably don’t feel the same but Y/N Y/L/N I am in love with you.” He said in all one breath

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was the thing you have been wanting for so long and now it’s actually being said you wanted to cry tears of joy.

“Y/N, please say something”

“Steve, I have been wanting to hear that since the fifth grade” You said with tears in your eyes. This, this was love.

“Steve Harrington, I am in love with you too.” you said smiling

“Well thank God cause that would have been embarrassing if you didn’t” you giggled

“Now you know how it feels, Stevie”

“Ugh, you ruined it we were having a moment and you say that” He said with fake anger

You just laughed and you both leaned your foreheads against each other.

“Hey, your never gonna lose me Harrington because I will always be stuck with you”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve my beloved #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve harrington angst

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angstydays · 2 years

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38755392/chapters/97951188

Requested by: @talesofmetalandmagic

Prompt: Dislocated Joint

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters involved: Pantalone, Rosaria

Additional notes: Based on a headcanon that Rosaria is Pantalone's daughter

Summary: Pantalone is betrayed by some subordinates.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

All he had to do was deal with the unexpected emergency in Mondstadt and leave, that was it.

Being ambushed by a few traitorous subordinates was not on the agenda.

Of course, he managed to handle them easily, being the Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers, but they weren't slouches when it came to fighting either.

And that became glaringly obvious when he felt extreme pain in his leg, causing him to fall on his back, a hiss escaping him. He gripped his weapon tightly, looking up to see that the agent who was responsible for delivering the blow was right above him.

"Not as powerful as you thought?" He mocked, beginning to kneel down with his knife when Pantalone knocked him away with his weapon, the agent stumbling back from the attack.

Pantalone took this as an opportunity to quickly analyze his injury, sitting up to properly look at it. Despite his leg being thoroughly covered by garments, he can still see that the joint in his leg was out of place, disfigured.

Ah, he had a dislocated leg. That would prove to make this fight more difficult than he once thought, considering the fact that he won't be able to walk much less stand up.

The agent recovered from the earlier assault and looked up at him, a glare likely on his face behind the mask. Flaming blades circled around him, a clear sign that he was about to utilize his limited invisibility. He couldn't get close, even if he wanted to with his bad leg, and besides, having burn marks would not fair well for him either.

He would have to predict where he was going to be once the invisibility wore off.

Pantalone tightened his grip on his weapon, prepared for the moment the agent to turn invisible.

He wasn't prepared for the moment when a large, Cryo made spear was thrusted down onto the ground, nearly skewering the agent, but it did make him tumble down onto the ground, his flaming blades disappearing as a cold aura emnanted from the spear, threatening to freeze anyone who dared to get close to it.

In the next moment, a woman appeared with a polearm in her hands, pointing it directly at the agent's neck, her foot on his back for good measure. Her dark pink hair was shorter than before, and her skin showed no signs of turning blue from the chilling breaths of frost from the Cryo spear.

Pantalone knew that hair colour, as well as the face, though aged, was still the same as the little girl he tried so desperately to raise.

There was no way this could be true. She was gone for so many years and despite thinking otherwise, he had small hope that someday she would return to him, or he would find her again.

His wishes have long since been rejected by the gods, another reason why he did not believe in them.

He watched as Rosaria used the butt of her polearm to smack at the agent's head, knocking him out if the lack of movement from him afterwards was any indication. She did it without any consideration or remorse, her heart must've been as cold as her Cryo Vision by now.

Her gaze locked onto Pantalone's, no signs of recognizing her father were in her body language or expression.

"Even Harbingers can get backstabbed by their so-called loyal subordinates, huh?" Rosaria said, walking over to him, still keeping her polearm in her grip.

Pantalone soon found his voice again, the need to know the worst or best case scenario overwhelming him.

"Rosaria, is that you?"

She was confused, her eyes narrowing on him. Once she was close enough, she knelt down and made sure he could see the entirety of her gaze, her weapon ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"I'm sorry, have we met before? Because I don't recall having any contact with the Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers."

No...

Pantalone thought he had experienced a parent's worst nightmare when the village was attacked and Rosaria was nowhere to be found once the everything had settled. But this kind of pain rivaled that moment.

"You don't recognize me?"

"Frankly, no. Except for when I saw you in Mondstadt earlier today." Rosaria looked down on him, examining every detail of his body. "Got a dislocated joint on the job? Surprising, considering your status."

Pantalone decided it would be best to choose his words carefully, until he could find a way to remind his daughter of who he was.

He didn't care how long it would take, he's not leaving Mondstadt without at least reminding his little girl of who he is.

I never got to tell you that I loved you one last time, never got to say goodbye, never got to see you grow up into the woman you are now. Is Mondstadt treating you well? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?

Would you be willing to come to Snezhnaya with me?

"Y'know, I could just leave you here. It would be impossible to move with that kind of leg." Rosaria said, getting up. "However, I sense that you would be useful in a certain operation the Knights of Favonius are on. Could use the help, those bumbling fools."

Pantalone, under normal circumstances, would've been spouting out some well used words to weasel his way out of this kind of situation, or at least lower the other person's guard to get them when they turn their back to him. But this was his daughter, whether or not she recognized him.

Rosaria grabbed a nearby branch, using it to make it into a makeshift splint to his leg. He made sure to keep himself quiet during the process, though a few inevitable winces managed to slip through his teeth. In place of bandages was his own jacket, although it wasn't like he needed it here in a warm nation like Mondstadt, though the winds could get merciless at times, like Barbatos knows he had set foot upon his land and wanted to personally punish him for that.

"There. Good to see that you did not allow yourself to squeal." She said, before lifting him into her arms, her polearm forgotten.

If there's one thing I can say, is that my little girl has grown stronger in all these years.

"I'm not going to do the explaining. You have to do everything yourself once we get back to the city."

Pantalone didn't particularly cared, and knew he would get an earful by his fellow Harbingers and the Tsaritsa later, but his daughter took priority over anything else at the moment.

He wasn't going to lose her a second time.

#bad things happen bingo #genshin impact #pantalone #rosaria #dislocated joint

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dawn-of-worlds · 1 year

Text

Implacable Celebrants

On Turn 6, Corobel starts with 15 points: 7 (roll) + 3 (nonhoarding) + 3 (left over) + 2 (conference bonus)

youtube

In the Sky--gazing on the red wound of the Moon and the sun's circling shadow--there dawned a terrible apprehension of hypostasis. And the Sun knew worry, but no doubt; and the Moon knew doubt, but not hesitation.

The Sky gazed on struggling, striving newborn Humanity, and saw within them innumerable histories straining to burst forth, branching and flowering, bloody and terrible--strange, wonderful, many-colored. They ached for reality as plants desire the sun, as the reflection yearns for its progenitor, as blood leaps to the knife--as the Sun craves the West.

From these two parents, a plan took shape, and the shape of the plan was this:

In a village by the river of Nak, there were two twins, with a loose shamanic faith, some small following among the people, and the incandescent seeds of wisdom.

And so the Sun went up above the hills as it always did, but, when it fell on them, it stopped.

And, to them, the Sun said, COME TO ME AND BE CHANGED SEPARATED DIVIDED RAREFIED MULTIPLIED HOLY TURNING REPEATED CLARIFIED

But the twins only shook and cried and prayed to their petty spirits and pettier ancestors.

So the Sun said, COME TO ME AND BE FLOWERING BURNING DANCING BURSTING LUCID CANDESCENT ETERNAL VISIBLE...

...and this was likewise unsuccessful, for reasons unknown.

And then the moon passed in front of the sun, a black face crowned in white gold, and the sun was silent, and the sky drew back, and the stars shone, unblinking, over an infinite nothing, and they saw the looming, hating star waiting like a full stop at the end of creation, and the moon said,

Fear not, for there is a plan. Come to me, and be the instruments of its enaction.

(And they climbed a great mountain nearby, and were set apart from the rest.)

I am the Sky: I separate the finite from the infinite; the precious world of colors from endless black space and white death; the spectrum of the visible from the infinities of the invisible; the razor-sharp present from the abyssal past and uncertain future. You must go West, to keep a secret and guard the last meridian: look through the wound of my face, and look upon my heart; look through the wound of my heart, and look upon my face.

(And they saw through the red lake of the moon and out of its earthly counterpart, and, beside it, a great flowering tree, a beast with nine and twenty heads, a reflection smiling in the face of despair.)

Make followers of your people and follow the sun, and you will know when you have found it. Keep the order of the skies on the World, and do as you must. You shall be the Implacable Celebrants of the Sky; our bematists, to measure the world with your dancing feet; our edges, to separate the holy from the unholy.

And the moon plucked out one twenty-ninth part of the light of the moon, and placed it in the brow of the one twin; this was the crown of Law, a thorny thing of three parts and covered in flowers; and he was the first Priest-King.

And the moon plucked out one twenty-ninth part of the light of the sun and placed it over the face of the other twin; this was the veil of Vision, to hide the present from the power of her eyes; and she was the first Oracle.

And so the Sun became a little less crazed and the Moon a little kinder, and they were civilized as the People were civilized.

And the Sky granted them the gift of the wheel, to grind distance into nothingness, grain into flour, and time into history. With the aid of Tepponilamek’s system of writing, the Sky showed them the ways of keeping solstice and equinox, of calculating the dates of eclipses and harvests, of dividing days into hours and years into months and lives into units of account.

It gave them useful arts of painting and blowing glass. It taught them to make mirrors. It gave them, also, certain Arts of Vision, arts of eyes, light, seeing, and change.

(The Oracles, the most powerful of sight, have seen the beginning and the end of the world, and comprehended entire the course of time. And their faces are rarely seen, for a careless glance may shatter glass and brand skin and unravel flesh--but when they are, they are always smiling.)

Thousands gathered, followers of all trades, inspired by diverse motives, and including worshipers of many gods. Flower-garlanded, they set out in their new-wrought carts, with their oxen, horses, and dogs (and trailed by cats, who are under the sway of neither god nor man, but like the sun). They trod the lands--forest, mountain, shore, and sea, hill and dale, westward and westward still. At each new valley and plain, some remained behind, and the Sky was content, for this, too, was part of its design. They met the Atai, and talked with them, and sometimes fought.

(And the Sky reached eagerly to possess the new thing called War, but it slipped out of the Sky's grasp at a great height, and so War was universal.)

And, at last, they came to the shore of the lake of blood, and beheld a Great Flowering Tree. And they knew what they must do, for these were the most determined of the Celebrants, honed and winnowed by their journey. They doubted, but did not hesitate, and the Sky, seeing this, knew it had planned well. Of the 841 who remain, 29 join the roots of the great tree; and the tree bears 812 fruits--not quite apples, nor pomegranates, nor persimmons--and the Celebrants climb the boughs, and eat, and their skins slough off and harden around them, and flesh and bone and soul become glorious fluid. For one month, the tree will bear them; for one month, they will hang. In one month, they will be reborn.

#world 02547 diegesis

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iviarellereads · 1 year

Text

Harrow the Ninth, Prologue

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(Insectoid Herald icon) In which we are shown a lot of things that make us ask questions, and asked to be patient in the getting of answers.

A Note Up Front:

The Dramatis Personae of Gideon the Ninth was sometimes useful in keeping track of who was from which House. The DP of Harrow the Ninth might seem beside the point at first, given that only a few of the Lyctors still live. But, I'd recommend having a nice close look at it. See if anything stands out to you. Like for example, the way ORTUS the Ninth is capitalized. And how Harrow's cavalier's name is blacked out with layers and layers of printed letters. It will also be useful as different names come up, as the book progresses and we learn more about the history of God's inner circle. Also review the House poem, as it's been expanded some from Gideon's edition. Take every hint you can, with this book.

I often pitch Gideon the Ninth as a locked-house murder mystery. Harrow is much more complex, though the pitch I've found the most success with and the most positive feedback to is more or less, "Harrow the Ninth is like a popup Michelin-starred restaurant experience, only the food is served under total cover of darkness, and nothing that's served is what was on the menu up front, but somehow it's also exactly what it promised to be and exactly what you needed."

Try not to feel ashamed or frustrated if you don't understand the mysteries at play. You're not supposed to. There are hints, yes, and some of the things I gesture at in the text will be parts of that breadcrumb trail, but the wide experience of Harrow the Ninth is not understanding any of what's going on until the very end. It's the expected experience. I've seen different people piece together different pieces of the tangled web, but I've never seen anybody accurately guess what's coming until the proper reveals.

With that said:

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EMPEROR'S MURDER(1)

Told in a mysterious second-person(2) which I'm going to flatten to third for my purposes, but I really do ask that you read each chapter before you read my summaries to get the full effect.

The room has been dark for some time, the thump of the Heralds flinging themselves onto the hull clearly audible. It's very cold, and a thin layer of frost covers Harrow's face and hair. Sometimes she screams, and she isn't even embarrassed anymore. It's just her body's reaction to the proximity.(3)

God's voice emerges from the comm, telling them it's ten minutes to breach. They'll have half an hour of air conditioning, then they'll "be working in the oven." He tells Harrow he'll keep hers closed longer, and Harrow staggers through the concentric circles of bone matter(4) she's laid out as her weapons to be to the comm button and snaps that she can take care of herself. He says her necromancy won't work in the River. She says she is a Lyctor, his hand, and if he wants a hand who needs to hide, she's misjudged him.

She hears the exhale of his sigh, and he tells her not to be in such a hurry to die. She says not to underestimate her, she's survived everything so far.

Harrow moves back to the middle of the room. She sits cross-legged, with her rapier in her lap, fighting the urge to throw it across the room.

The door slides open, and Ianthe the First(5) enters, without setting off Harrow's traps. Her rapier looks black, and the bones of her right arm(6) gleam an oily gold. Harrow closes her eyes to her. Ianthe says she would protect Harrow, if Harrow would only ask. Harrow gives some vivid descriptions of ghastly things she'd rather have done to her than to be protected by Ianthe. Ianthe, however, says hopefully that she hears a "maybe", and asks Harrow to stop being coy. Harrow says not to pretend that Ianthe is "here for anything other than to look after an investment."

Ianthe says she came to warn Harrow.

"You came to warn me?" Your voice sounded flat and affectless, even to you. "You came to warn me now?"

Ianthe approaches, crunching the bone circles.(7) Harrow can sense her fear, even without trying.

"Nonagesimus, nobody is coming to save you. Not God. Not Augustine.(8) Nobody." There was no mockery in her voice now, but there was something else: excitement, perhaps, or unease.(9) "You'll be dead within the first half hour. You're a sitting duck. Unless there's something in one of those letters(10) I don't know about, you're out of tricks."

Harrow feels Ianthe cup her chin in her hands, the flesh fingers almost feverish compared to the gilded bone ones, and is shocked into opening her eyes, not quite sure it's not a hallucination. Ianthe is before Harrow, "in unmistakable supplication." Her gaze is both beseeching and full of "contemptuous despair", her "blue eyes with deep splotches of light brown, like agate." Ianthe tells Harrow she can undo what Harrow has done, if she just turns around.(11) Together, at full power, they could "rip apart this Resurrection Beast and come away unscathed." Save the whole galaxy, let them weep to talk of Ianthe and Harrowhark.

"The past is dead, and they're both dead, but you and I are alive. What are they? What are they, other than one more corpse we're dragging behind us?"(12)

Harrow judges that Ianthe's expression is excitement, not unease, and senses that this is an important moment.

She tells Ianthe to go fuck herself.

Ianthe's face freezes back into a mocking mask.

"I didn't think this was the time for dirty talk, but I can roll with it," she said. "Choke me, Daddy."

Harrow tells Ianthe to get out. Ianthe says Harrow always was stubborn, and maybe she should have died at Canaan House. Harrow says Ianthe should have killed her sister, because her eyes don't match her face.

God's voice interrupts before Ianthe can retort, reminding them of the time, four minutes left, and make sure they're in their places.

Ianthe turns away from Harrow, trailing her "human fingers" across the wall as she walks back to the exit, and says, "Well, I tried, and therefore no one should criticize me,"(13) then ducks out of the room. Harrow is left "profoundly alone" as it starts to warm up.

She thinks about opening the envelope, addressed to herself, that reads "To open in case of your imminent death."

She calms herself as some distant part of the station gives a crunch of plex and metal. She cocoons herself in perpetual bone, foolish since it will dissolve when she submerges in the River, but still she adds layer after layer.

Throughout the Mithraeum, five pairs of eyes closed in concert, one of them yours. Unlike theirs, yours would not open again. In half an hour, no matter what Teacher(14) might hope, you would be dead.

The Lyctors and the Emperor start to submerge themselves in the River to face off with the Resurrection Beast. Harrow wades with them, but leaves her vulnerable meat behind.

"I pray the tomb is shut forever," you heard yourself saying aloud, and you could not bring your voice above a choked whisper. "I pray the rock is never rolled away. I pray that which was buried remains buried, insensate, in perpetual rest with closed eye and stilled brain. I pray it lives ... O corse of the Locked Tomb," you extemporised wildly. "Beloved dead, hear your handmaiden. I loved you with my whole rotten, contemptible heart--I loved you to the exclusion of aught else--let me live long enough to die at your feet." Then you went under to make war on Hell. * * * Hell spat you back out. Fair enough.

Harrow doesn't wake up in the River, on the other side of the veil. She wakes in the corridor outside her room, sweating, and... bleeding, her own rapier sticking out of her stomach, stuck from behind. The wound is not a hallucination, and Harrow is too far gone to knit it together with her magic. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't read the imminent death letter.

You were only half a Lyctor, and half a Lyctor was worse than not a Lyctor at all.

Outside, the Heralds of the Resurrection Beast are so thick they block the stars, and they're heating the ship far too effectively. Harrow hears distant swordfighting and flinches from a sound she's hated since birth.

You prepared to die with the Locked Tomb on your lips. But your idiot dying mouth rounded out three totally different syllables, and they were syllables you did not even understand.(15)

=====

(1) I hope you didn't think this was going to be a particularly happy story. (2) Not everyone knows what the perspectives are! So, there are three and a half perspectives to tell a story from. The first person is oneself, so the story is told in "I" pronouns. The second person is talking to the self, and is told in "you" pronouns. The third person is an outside observer, and uses third-person pronouns (she, they, he). The third person can also be "omniscient" (able to read everyone's thoughts and tell absolute truths), or "close" (as if sitting on one character's shoulder, only able to hear their thoughts and see through their perspective to some degree) or switch between the two if the writer feels particularly ambitious. Gideon the Ninth was told in third person close perspective, but Harrow… is a bit of a goodie bag of treats. For now, this is second-person, a story being told to a person, for some reason. If it unsettles you, I implore you to bear with it, as I think Muir really earns it out. If you have a guess as to why it's being told from this perspective on your first read, bravo, you're paying more attention than I did my first time. (Just don't get me started on the temporal tense of the narrative and how changing it can play with the perspectives, or we'll be here all day.) (3) The proximity of what exactly? Oh yes. We'll get there. (4) Protective circles are a long-established trope and I don't want anyone to miss the way they're invoked here, given what's to come. (5) This is still the same Ianthe, "the First" is just the honorary given to the Lyctors, as their ascension means inclusion in the Emperor's house, as his guard, his saints, his hands. See: the House poem in the front of the book. (Told you it would come in handy.) (6) Ah yes, the arm she lost in the battle with Cytherea. Golden bone sounds fun and very Third. And now you can look at a lot of Ianthe fanart spoiler-free! (7) Ianthe, violating the protective circle Harrow has laid out. Is this a deeper gesture, or something meaningless? I don't feel qualified to tell you without spoiling something but I'll note that I picked this out on my first read, and I still think it's interesting to think about. (8) Here, again, the Dramatis Personae. One of the remaining living Lyctors. To avoid this being a redundant footnote: why would Ianthe assume that Harrow would assume God or Augustine, in that order, would rescue her? Why would she not assume the others would? (9) I know which way I lean, knowing what I do of the rest of the book, but what about first time readers? (10) Letters, you ask? I know this is a lot being thrown at you. I promise, we'll get there. For now, another thing to keep in mind. (11) What has Harrow done? Yes at this point I'm sort of offering a list of the mysteries in the book more than I'm offering commentary in footnotes. (12) Who is the "they" in this context? (13) The memes return! This one is from a Saturday Night Live sketch with Daniel Radcliffe, from 2012. The sketch itself is… bad, it's bad, it's feeding into the same myth of millennials being over-praised that keeps proving itself wronger every year but still keeps on a-ticking, but the moment of this line has nevertheless become an iconic meme, used to make fun of people with too much confidence in their abilities. (14) Teacher? The dead multisoul construct from Canaan House? He did once say that he hoped the candidates would go on to call God their Teacher someday… (15) What could matter to Harrow that constitutes just three syllables to say? Why wouldn't she understand them?

#the locked tomb #tlt #harrow the ninth #htn #harrow the ninth spoilers #htn spoilers #harrowhark nonagesimus #emperor john gaius #ianthe tridentarius

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newbie-whovian · 2 years

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Hey! If it’s not too much trouble could I request a fic where the reader (she/her) is the ninth Doctor’s companion and has Tourettes? Feel free to message me if you want/need a better explanation(?) but if you’re not comfortable writing something like that (that’s 100% fine!) could it be about the reader being a total mom friend? Thanks! I hope you have a phenomenal day! 💜

(Thank you for the request! And thanks for answering the questions I had, please tell me if there's anything I need to tweak!)

Avalanche - Featuring the Ninth Doctor

A bitter cold wind whipped through the mountains where the TARDIS sat in the middle of a snow bank, and a pair of enormous moons shone in between blankets of clouds. You swung open the door to the TARDIS and immediately stepped backwards into the warmth of the console room, ticcing a loud whistle as you shut the door again and catching the attention of the Doctor.

He looked up quickly, resembling a gopher sticking his head out of a hole as he set aside what he'd been tinkering with. He gave you a cheeky smile and said in that distinctly northern accent, "Probably shoulda told you that Quorrant was an ice planet, sorry 'bout that."

You gave him a playful glare, heading back into the TARDIS to try and find your room. You'd been travelling with the Doctor for around a month now, and to your surprise, he made it his duty to know everything he could about your tics. The first week, they caught him almost by surprise, but he prided himself on being a fast learner.

The TARDIS must have felt merciful today; your bedroom was only a few hallways away. You tugged on a few extra layers and made your way back to the console room, finding the Doctor standing by the door in his usual attire.

You raised an eyebrow at him and found your hand moving to knock against the railing. "Aren't you gonna be cold?"

"No, alien biology, remember?"

"Not even going to cover your ears?"

He sighed. "Fine."

He strode over to one of the seats, grabbing a discarded beanie and tugging it over his head, before spreading his arms with a small "ta-da!"

You smirked at him and stepped towards the door, letting him sweep past you to the outside. He tugged the door open and a blast of cold air hit you in the face, causing you to bury your face in your collar as the Doctor said, "See? Not that bad!"

You rolled your eyes and followed him outside into the snow.

You had to admit, the landscape was beautiful. The mountains were breathtaking and the sky above you was full of stars, but the wind bit through your clothes and the snow was almost up to your knees as you trudged through it. You looked over at the Doctor, who was stepping through the snow like a schoolboy on a field trip in the beanie you made him wear, and shook your head.

The wind howled through the mountaintops and snowflakes stuck to your eyelashes as you said, "Maybe we should head back!"

"But the rock formation's just ahead, just another mile down the valley!"

"Doctor, I'm freezing, and there's no way you're not at least a bit cold. Couldn't you have parked the TARDIS a little bit closer?"

"The hike's the fun part!"

You frowned and tried to protest, but your eyes shut of their own accord and you grabbed his sleeve. The cheeky smile dropped off of his face and he gently held your elbow, turning you both back towards the TARDIS and leading you back through the path you two had already tread.

You heard the wind begin to blow even harder than it has before, and as you buried your face in your collar, you heard the alarming sound of snow tumbling down the mountain. The Doctor let out a yell, tugging you after him as you heard snow begin to pile on the ground. The sounds from the valley began to be muffled, by what, you didn't know.

Silence fell for the first time in the hour you'd been hiking, and as you opened your eyes again, you found that the Doctor had led you both into a miraculously placed cave. The entrance was blocked with snow, and although the wind couldn't reach inside, it was still deathly cold. You could feel frustration creep up your spine.

You gave him an exasperated look and he nodded, muttering under his breath, "This is just fantastic." You ticced a loud "fantastic," cringing as your voice echoed down the cave.

The both of you heard a low growl from far behind you, and the Doctor froze. You almost asked him what was going on, but your hand shot out to collide against the wall of the cave, and you winced slightly.

The Doctor sat down far too calmly and saw you shivering, ignoring the sound you'd heard as he took the beanie off of his head and slipped it over your hair. You frowned, thinking he must be daft for ignoring such a thing, but as silence persisted for a moment and no sounds from further inside came to break it, you understood.

He began quickly shoveling snow away from the entrance with his cupped hands, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You huddled deeper into your jackets as he asked you, "Have I ever told you about the time I had to fight shop mannequins?"

You smiled and shook your head, crossing your arms and letting out a breath that fogged in front of your face.

He returned your smile and began to recount the time that something underneath the London Eye had tried to take over the world by controlling the plastic, which had resulted in mannequins running rampant through the shopping district. You were sure he had to be making some of that up, but you listened anyway, and by the time he had moved on to telling you about the time he watched the end of Earth, he'd cleared a decent sized tunnel in the snow.

He offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it with a small forward jerk of your head. The two of you made your slow way through the snow and back out into the wind, and as you stood and shook the snow from your shoulders, you asked, "Are you sure you're not cold?"

He shrugged, saying, "Bit nippy, nothing too bad," leading you back through the valley. "I'm sure you've had enough of Quorrant by now, eh?"

"That's the most enormous understatement I've ever heard, Doc."

He rolled his eyes and said, "C'mon-"

After another dreadful hour of trudging through the snow, you finally caught a glimpse of the TARDIS and nearly ran the rest of the way. You stepped inside and turned a small circle, shutting your eyes and signing, "Ah, this is so much better."

The Doctor followed you inside and rolled his eyes again, striding to the console and flipping a lever as he said, "So overdramatic."

You narrowed your eyes at him but he offered you a smile, and your expression softened. "No more ice planets for a while, ok?"

"Scout's honor."

#doctor who #doctor who fic #ninth doctor #9th doctor

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