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dankmyfarrik · 2 years

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Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind | Chapter 6: Closure

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Summary: An alternate universe where the only thing that happens differently is… well, the Emperor wins. And Luke wakes up with a mysterious scar on his temple.

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Warnings: Description of blood, major character injury.

The sterile lights in the Descant were harsh and overwhelming–Din should be used to it by now, but a knot formed in his throat, and his eyes widened. Even harsher were his thoughts - the words with Boba playing over and over again like a broken holo in his head, showing him no mercy.

Natus was a Jedi or whatever that meant. How did he go from being a "goodie two shoe disciple," as Fett eloquently said, to well… now – a snarl on his lips, golden eyes staring daggers into Solo as if he were meat.

Solo knew what had happened. He was intimate enough in Natus' life to call him by his name. Luke. Sweet as the summer sun. As deadly as the fire from which it originates. He didn't say, Commander. Solo didn't name him by his last moniker. He didn't say, General or Sir. No–Solo said Luke.

Din could've had his answers.

But he was too slow to think and act. And now, possibly, the only one who may have known something was being dragged away–troopers on all his sides. And there was nothing Din could do about it.

Gideon–with a man beside him–approached Natus. Solo threw comments over his shoulder but was pushed back and back to the elevators. "A cell under my jurisdiction," Natus had said.

Gideon seeing the struggle smiled. But the man on Gideon's left, a lab coat too big for his small frame and thick glasses falling off his nose, looked as though he could be sick.

"Hello Pershing," Natus smiled in a seemingly overfriendly greeting, "What brings you here?" Natus never turned his face from Solo until he was shoved into the elevator, the doors closing.

"Lord Natus, the most recent binders test was successful."

His eyes widened.

"That can't be applicable to all subjects!" A random man in a general's uniform interjected, storming up to the group, pushing the scientist–Pershing–to the side, his voice an urgent panic, "She's just a g–"

Pershing tried to defend himself, "Don't underestimate her–"

"You expect me to believe that! I'm not risking my life just because you think–"

Natus jerked his head to the side, and the man's neck snapped, dropping to the floor. Dead. Din startled, praying to Maker the visor hid everything and masked his sharp inhale.

Natus turned to leave, but Gideon stepped in his way.

"Since she is no longer useful to you. I am moving her under my jurisdiction where I can wholly appreciate her talents."

His eyes flared brighter, fists clenching at his sides and forcing a smile, "I'm noticing a pattern here Gideon…"

Natus didn't know why his Master put Gideon instead of himself in charge of… well, he didn't actually know what Gideon and Pershing did to the bounties brought in. He had just seen the aftermath–the pieces of people in the aftermath.

There was a churning in his stomach, a feeling persistent in his dreams.

Empathy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat speckling his forehead, whispering to himself, "Through strength, I gain power."

Through strength, I gain power.

ThroughstrengthIgainpower.

Strength.

Power.

His eyes burned.

Fear, anger, and empathy, it was all Gideon's fault.

"You know the funny thing about death, Gideon? Once your dead, all the fun, limitless possibilities are gone. Death isn't what you should fear from me. It would be boring in comparison. Because unlike that waste of oxygen," Natus pointed to the general dead on the ground, blood slowly falling from his lips, "I know your screams wouldn't be a waste of my time. The gifted children stay where they have been assigned."

Natus turned to Din, eyes raking over his figure, "I'll head down to the containment center when I'm done here." Then he spun on his heel, heading straight to his quarters, expecting Din to follow.

He does.

–

What did they do to you.

Din knew he should be focusing on Solo's comment, asking subtle questions–finding answers. But as a thumb smoothed over the head of his cock. The blond's breath hot on his neck, slowly gasping. Tugging at the strands peeking out from the helm–twisting the curls between his fingers–relishing the pull on his scalp. Panting. Something ragged, hot, and desperate fading into the calm waves on a beach. Sun above the water, melting into the sea, bright burning colors of sunset molding with the start of dusk.

The blond came, splattering his seed across Din's stomach - a few more thrusts he was there as well, collapsing–dead to the world. Reality mellowy returning, yet so far away. Not yet. Now they listen to each other's breaths, soothing over scars, ignoring their mess.

–

Light light light.

He was walking through the sky - clouds around him. Something dark far below, but he couldn't quite reach the darkness no matter how hard he tried.

A figure appeared in front of him, holding out a stubby-clawed hand. The creature's mouth moved, but he could not interpret the words. He fell deeper, darker. Master Yoda, help me! Something flickered–a strobe light, hurting his head–a war between darkness and sight. He fell through the clouds to an abyss far below.

But it clung to him.

Love, hope, empathy.

Forgiveness.

Natus woke up screaming. In his terror, he threw his blood-stained pillow to the floor and ran to the fresher, gagging up nothing. He turned to see his reflection–pink nose, teary blue eyes. Disgraceful.

–

"Marshall, I have a favor to ask of you," Din had said, the Descant nothing more than a speck behind him.

"Anything." Cara had smiled back.

Now, having retrieved his bid, the Crest aimlessly orbited Navarro. Light poured into the cabin as the Crest drifted by the southern end of the planet.

Din rotated the old holo disk in his hand, feeling a nervous pull in his chest. The smooth disk, scratched with age, worn against the strangely soft yet tattered texture of the glove face. Din's hands didn't tremor against the on-switch. It was a habit conditioned away - a learned practice from years of missed targets and the durasteel taking one too many unnecessary hits.

The hold darkened as Navarro eclipsed the sun flooding everything with shadows.

With a gentle press and a click, the rusted holo flickered to life, and Din lost his breath.

Luke.

The image was in terrible condition - speckled with static, scratches with layers of discoloration–it was as if he were holding the last vestige of a fragment in history. History that was meant to be snubbed out by the Empire. Luke was a legend, a fable, only living on through word of mouth, but when he asked Cara for anything, even a scrap of evidence, Din could have never expected this.

He was just a boy.

Luke was what Din had heard, a cocky flyboy joining the resistance at such a young age with so much to prove. A medallion hung around his neck, and he looked out into the crowd with so much pride, sneaking a bright smile.

Quickly yet carefully, Din removed his helmet, his hair fluffing out, and placed the visor on his lap. He eyed closer, and despite the rust and ruin, Luke's eyes were still so blue. Even more of a vibrant, spirited blue.

Luke had no bags under his eyes or the weight of stress in his smile.

He had no scars.

He was like sunshine, pure joy and youth radiating from him.

Solo, younger himself, stood next to Luke, and regret drowned him once more. The holo flickered in a warning–the device on its last limb. Din panicked, eyes frantically drinking in all the image had to offer. There was a beautiful woman behind them with a soft smile and strikingly familiar features. He would have to find her–if she was still breathing–that was his only hope.

He reached out to caress Luke's face, the electrics giving way at his touch. Soft pink cheeks, rosy lips, yellow-blond hair instead of platinum. Maybe one day they will meet.

The holo sparked then flickered out, leaving Din in darkness with his hand hovering in the air, the engine rumbling below his feet and, worst of all–his thoughts. Maybe one day he will meet Luke, but the realistic part of him knew that boy and his smile would never come back to how things were.

–

The elevator doors slid shut behind him, and Natus stormed through the hold of the Descant towards his room. Blood dripped from his fists and splattered on his white boots, across his cloak, and maybe on his neck and chin–he didn't check.

Needless to say, Troopers and officials alike gave him a wide birth when he passed, only exchanging glances once they thought he could no longer see or sense their fear. Those fidgeting hands and nervous glances were normally satisfying, but today, it all just felt…off.

He turned down yet another hall, more people practically jumping out of the way, and Natus all but ran back to his room, that feeling seeping into his skin, itching more than the blood stuck and drying to his flesh.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

The freshers' faucet clicked on, the water scalding, steam begging to settle on the mirror. But he couldn't look at himself anyway, fear his body may betray him. Not now. Not after Solo.

Through passion, I gain strength.

He put his hands under the water and ignored the burning. The water began to turn pink, and Natus scrubbed more and more, but the blood wouldn't disappear, cleaning all the way up to his bicep–he scrubbed his face, and sure enough, some had splattered there too. And it all felt wrong. The water color darkened some more.

It was as if the blood could taint a whole ocean.

Natus was occasionally assigned to torture people before. That wasn't the issue. But now, he felt a twinge in his gut he could not shake. A dryness in his throat, he recognized as the pull to the light. The thought was terrifying.

Through strength, I gain power.

"Leia," Natus mouthed more than whispered.

"Leia," it was slightly louder this time–to taste the words on his tongue. In his agony, Solo kept screaming something about this person and saying she had a brother.

Puzzling.

Natus internally scolded himself. He shouldn't read into the cravings of an obviously delusional man. But he couldn't shake the feeling–everything felt off.

Through power, I gain victory.

A pain registered in his hands, and he looked down–the blood long disappeared down the drain. But his hands here burned and red. He retracted them in shock, the movement causing him to catch the absence of glowing yellow in the mirror.

He swiped across the gathered steam, the cool mist on the transparisteel offering little relief for his hand. And sure enough–

Blue. Blue. Blue.

Shameful.

His eyes. Always. Prominently. No matter how much he slaved away. And it filled him with nothing but shame.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

How many years of training has he had? It was his nightmares–it was Solo's fault and maybe this Leia. But her name didn't sound like it was her fault. She sounded kind.

He screamed, fist punching the mirror, and it fractured his reflection. But still held the pieces together with angry jagged lines cutting through. Now he looked like a monster, his eyes burning and fragments of glass caught in his fists. He gripped the sink–thinking of his Master. Palpatine's eyes always bore the mark of the sith; they never betrayed him.

Natus punched the mirror, again and again, his grip on the sink finally giving way, and the plaster shattered, the water spilling out onto the floor.

But it all still felt wrong–like a teen not comfortable in their body, nothing was a fit. Everything was broken. He was broken.

Peace is a like there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

He huddled into a ball in the corner of the fresher and repeated his code–his ethics and morals over and over till hours went by, and his voice gave out, and a black droid unlocked the door and escorted Natus to the medbay.

–

His hands had mostly healed by the next time Natus saw his father.

They stood with darkness all around them, comforting despite his hands wrapped with gauze–the only reminder of his doubts.

"You wanted to speak with me, father?"

"We've sensed your," he paused, voice practically shaking the floor, "dreams are continuing."

"Yes," Natus breathed, having too much pride to admit they've been getting worse. And he was about to speak again before Vader beat him to it.

"They Mandalorian you repeatedly bring to your quarters."

It wasn't even phrased as a question, simply a string of words that caused heat to lick up the back of his neck–he wasn't keen to talk about his sex life with his father.

But, he was determined to defend himself, his Master teaching him that much at least, "I did not realize what I was doing was wrong. We are not wicked like the light. You can have," Natus swallowed, "relations. Correct?"

"Yes." The black helmet nodded. "But you must feel your anger and fear of loss. The possession. Only then are you allowed to continue."

He nodded. But he didn't want to feel those things with the Mandalorian, though. He wanted something…softer. Warmer. He used to crave the rough and wanton but now?

It was happening again–that pull to the light. He wanted to scream at his father, beg him to clear these awful desires and thoughts away, replace them with the comfort of numbed anger.

In a moment of humiliating weakness, he brought his sins to his loved teacher, "I feel the good and light within me, father, and I am scared."

There was a pause. Guilt flooded his entire being.

But by a grace of mercy, he responded, "Is the Mandalorian the cause?"

"No." Maybe. "The Mandalorian is not in my nightmares. Solo is."

"Is Solo still alive?"

Natus looked down at his fists in shame.

"Yes father."

"Then let's give him a visit.

–

Natus rose from his bed from the best night's sleep he had since he could remember.

The night before, his father had stayed with him for Solo.

It was invigorating. Reassuring in his darkness.

"Doubt is normal," His father said while Solo screamed, returning the twisting in Natus' gut, "but do not give in."

Natus tightened his grip around the man's neck.

"Channel your anger."

The screams grew quieter and finally stopped.

His eyes had never burned a brighter yellow. Power unlike anything before in his veins, lifting his feet off the ground, wind blowing his cape.

"You will be alright, my son," his father chuckled deeply as Natus regulated his heavy breathing.

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bookishjules · 4 months

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Here I am again ....the one with the Simon in the wild bestie

Hehe it's so sweet of you to invite me over for tea 😄

So yeah for the Morgenstern essay I still haven't typed it out ...but it's basically like Clary (protagonist) and Sebastian (antagonist) both were Morgensterns. It's a tainted name in the shadowhunters community right? So my point is something isn't always inherently bad ...it's the circumstances or the fate (or the plot 😗) which makes them bad. Now for Jonathan/ Sebastian bro had been going through torture for all his life as the demon blood burns shadowhunters. He was Raised to be a weapon unlike Jace who was atleast taught other stuff. Upbringing matters a lot in shaping those characters, shaping their powers. Like for comparison if you look at Jace when he was a Wayland...when he was a Morgenstern....when he is a herondale... there's a slight difference in the way he's written or the way he fights ... he's still the same Jace but there's this minute difference you'd notice. So basically the background you're Given also matters a lot ...which happened with Sebastian. If he was given a non-Valentine life/ background....if his blood wasn't infused...if he was brought up in a normal way he'd have definitely led a better life As a Morgenstern and wouldn't have been the one manipulated into being the villian .... maybe he'd have still turned out to be a antagonist who knows. But atleast throughout his life he'd have felt light the way he felt while dying. Maybe clary's fate would've changed if they grew up as siblings who knows. The Morgensterns we've seen till now are all fucked in the head fr. Like even Clary could've gotten her villian arc easily...the clave anyways did not trust her as she was a Morgenstern.

To sum it up ....I feel Morgensterns have a dominant dark side n would be the bad guy ...but you always get a choice to choose your path even if you're blinded by the fate

(I hope my word vomit made sense....I mean these were basically facts which already existed I just typed out my thought process)

Oh for the guy thing ... nothing romantic is going on in plain sight but there gave been moments... really sweet ones. Oh btw last week I sent him the thing I wrote which said 'i want to be written about ' .....as my bday gift guy wrote for me ..which made my day

Anyways I hope you're doing okayyy ヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉ

The nature of last names in the shadowhunters world is such a compelling one, and you're right, it's absolutely something of a metaphor for choosing who you become, who you are. Even during ascension, there's a certain amount of this. You pick a name that you want to be like. You don't pick a name like Morgenstern.

Except... There's also an amount of reclamation when it comes to last names. Gabriel and Gideon worked hard to make the Lightwood name mean something good again after their father tainted it, and I think a large part of their ability to do that comes from Tatiana denouncing the Lightwood name at the same time.

A name doesn't dictate personality, of course, but it does have a certain sway in how you are treated by other shadowhunters, which of course, informs the way you act. It's a whole thing in developmental psychology; natural/genetic temperaments garner certain reactions, which then controls how a child is parented etc., which then has a hand in which other personality traits etc. come to the surface. I think this is very similar to how shadowhunters are raised according to their last name, and how, so often we see a change of name being an indicator of a change of self--because it can be difficult to change when you are still being perceived a certain way.

As for where this leaves us with the Morgensterns... Green-eyed Jonathan is often associated with the last name Fairchild, and I think the reason why is clear. There's an amount of hope there, for a person who never got to be a person--that he would turn out to be better than the man who raised him. And if he had been raised a Morgenstern, even without the demon blood, I do think it would have been more likely for him to become an antagonist, than if he had been raised a Fairchild, simply because one name has a much more negative connotation than the other--especially in the time that Jonathan was being raised. People would have treated him differently as a Morgenstern than they would a Fairchild.

If we're following the logic that somehow Valentine was not a presence in his childhood, this would all have to circle back to Jocelyn, and her decision whether to keep her husband's name or not. I do think there could be scenarios where she did, but I would be more inclined to believe that she would at the very least return to being Jocelyn Fairchild and raise her son with the same name. No, this wouldn't make him immune to the reactions of other shadowhunters, but I do think the choice to step away from the tainted name would be recognized and acknowledged in a positive way. We see a little bit of the opposite happen with Clary, iirc, when she takes up Heosphoros, but she was already at a point, then, when she was ready to treat Morgenstern in a similar way to how Gideon and Gabriel would have treated Lightwood after the events of TID.

It would be so interesting to see how such reclamation would have played out if Clary and Jonathan had been raised as siblings. Would Clary see the way her brother was treated for a name he didn't even use and get angry for him? Would Jonathan work hard to be a good example for his sister, a good steward of the family he was born into? Or would it be something of the opposite? Or would they ever even try to reclaim that name? No Valentine means no "Sebastian" means no continued conversation surrounding the name Morgenstern...

I guess what I'm saying is that maybe there is an inheritable darkness in the Morgensterns, but I think it's possible that the name does as much, if not more, than the genes themselves. Morgensterns have been the bad guys, so they will be painted as such, and future Morgensterns will then have an inclination to fill the shoes and be the bad guys.

Sorry for such a long response!! That essay of sorts really sent some gears spinning I guess lol thank you for sharing!!! (Also happy belated birthday!!!!!! <33)

#also that's such a sweet and thoughtful gift from the guy omg <33 #simon anon #asks #tsc

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taylorrama · 8 months

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The Locked Tomb and mewithoutYou pt. 1/17

The Venn Diagram of Locked Tomb readers and mewithoutYou fans is probably two circles not touching, but it should really probably be two overlapping circles, not only because mwY is my favorite band of all time, but also because, like TLT, mwY is filled to the brim with obscure literary/religious references, and the later albums in particular have the "I don't understand what's happening at all, but I love it" energy of TLT.

mewithoutYou is a hard band to describe, but one decent way is to place them somewhere in the post-hardcore and indie realm. Screaming vocals. Heavy guitars. But then there's the folk album about vegetables.

Anyway, first of all, there's that name. mewithoutYou. Ring any bells? I have to say I laughed at that line at the end of Gideon the Ninth because I knew it couldn't actually be a mwY reference, but last summer, mewithoutYou played their final tour and their final shows, so now there really is no "me without you" or "mewithoutYou." I read Gideon after all that, so funny haha for me.

Let me start off by giving you just one song and then I'll make more posts. Despite the fact that this is my favorite band, I try not to always be like "every piece of art that does religious things in a way I like is a mewithoutYou reference." This band isn't that well-known, except it's likely that your favorite band or artist likes them to some degree (e.g., Hayley Williams, boygenius).

TW: depression, suicidal ideation

Song: Tie Me Up, Untie Me! Album: Catch For Us the Foxes

youtube

This song is Harrow in her self-hatred era, which is always. These sections in particular stand out.

I was licking at the leaves But I was in short sleeves and you You were like some sickness that I caught

"You were like some sickness that I caught" to me sounds like something Harrow would absolutely think about Gideon.

(Oh, please, brother, I'm far... Brother, I'm far away... Brother, I'm far away from everything Oh, brother, I'm far... Brother, I'm far away... Brother! I'm far away from everything good!)

This part sounds like a desperate prayer, especially how it's performed. Ninth House loves prayers.

She's like a hot cloth on a fevered head And like a needle she leads me (while I follow like thread) Tie me up! Untie me! All this wishing I was dead is getting old It's gettin' old! ... it goes on, but it's old

This is the chorus and it just strikes me as part of Harrow's mental state for the entirety of Harrow the Ninth. "She" could be about Griddlehark. It could be Harrianthe.

Now we get to some really interesting images in the next verse.

I was swimming through the waves For what must have been days But could find no relief When I started sinking down I thought for certain I would drown Until I saw you in the ocean Underneath

The River. The River. The River and how the necromancer/cavalier relationship works in lyctorhood/near-lyctorhood.

You, my hidden pearl of pure and perfect love And I'm the living example Of 100% the opposite of this

Right in the Griddlehark feels, honestly.

This next part is actually what threw me on this train of "this series accidentally (probably) pairs with most of this band's discography." I was finishing Nona the Ninth the other night and got to this part.

The silly referential part of my brain said, "This sounds like a mwY reference." Two, actually, but this is the part from "Tie Me Up! Untie Me!" that goes.

(If I ask the same questions… Well, yes, sir, I ask the same questions Well, well maybe I repeat myself from time to time But if I ask the same questions… And then I know I ask the same questions It's because everyone who answers me is a liar!)

It's the last three lines in particular, and the "liar" part also works well in the context of this scene, where Nona is so frustrated and desperately trying not to remember anything. The way she's saying this as well matches the way this part of the song is performed (letting her voice rush out).

"We don't need it" pings my brain with a different line for a different song for a different post.

And then I'll just leave you with the last chorus.

She's like the hot cloth on a fevered head And like a needle she leads me (while I follow like thread) But you untied me... didn't You untie me, Lord? And now I haven't even thought about killing myself In almost five months

I'll be rereading the series because I'm taking notes on a video I want to make about the theology of the Locked Tomb (to be released only after Alecto comes out), but these mewithoutYou thoughts are a by-product of my processing of the first read through.

---

TLT + mewithoutYou pt. 2

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #nona the ninth #harrow the ninth #my gay agenda is for you to listen to this band #Youtube

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iviarellereads · 1 year

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Gideon the Ninth, Chapter 28

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Eighth House icon) In which Gideon has a conversation she never thought she'd have.

Gideon went directly to the Eighth quarters.(1) Her memory's a little fuzzy, but she knows this was the correct choice of actions, even if she can't quite decide why she thought that.

Colum is the one to receive her, in clothes that look as though he's been cleaning. He asks for her sword and second weapon. Gideon protests, but he says he'd be a fool not to make her disarm around his necromancer, and he swears on his honour that nothing inside will hurt her.(2) Gideon doesn't trust him, but she hands over her rapier and glove.

As the rage fades, Gideon starts to regret her choice of actions after leaving Harrow, going to Teacher to find out where the Eighth quarters are. The rooms themselves are very light, airy, and so clean they, or Colum, must have been doing it himself. The only colour is a portrait of the Emperor as Kindly Master(3) placed opposite the table like a beatific and unavoidable dinner partner.

Colum puts Gideon's weapons next to the door, and fetches Silas, who appears to have been in the middle of "ablutions"(4) but is unbothered as he sits and Colum starts combing his thin white hair. He tells Gideon, in very polite words, that he still hates her for the House she represents. Gideon says thanks and asks to sit. Silas allows it.

Gideon says she never swore to the Ninth, and if Silas had talked to Glaurica, he would know that. Silas says a rock doesn't have to take a vow to be a rock, and asks Gideon to remove her hood. Silas wonders where her "phenotype"(5) comes from, perhaps her mother was from the Third. Gideon tells him not to make cryptic comments, he doesn't know the first thing about her mother or herself. Silas says she misunderstands, he was more interested in Gideon's mother than he was in her, when they questioned Glaurica, but ghosts often mistake the useful and the useless.

Wait, ghosts?

Yes, Silas says, Glaurica was a revenant, in fact, the kind of ghost that's so determined to seek out the living and cling to the scraps of their former lives. Glaurica's didn't last long, though. She and Ortus died on the shuttle when it exploded, and wasn't that the shuttle Gideon had intended to take? Gideon has the stray thought that Ortus will "never rhyme melancholy with my mortal folly again" but doesn't confirm or deny Silas's assertion.

Silas continues regardless that he doesn't need the full story. He's here to talk about the children: how many grew up in Gideon's generation? Gideon says nothing. Silas starts with herself and the Reverend Daughter, but adds a questioning tone, pressing the question of more. Gideon asks if he wants a census. No, he says, he wants her to think about why they two represent an entire generation. He wants her to think about the deaths of two hundred children when she and Harrow, alone, lived.

Gideon says he's picked the wrong thing to try to slam Harrow with. The flu happened before Harrow was even born, when Gideon was only about a year old. Gideon's heard about it her whole life. Bacteria in the vents took out the notoriously frail children of the Ninth, and she's always thought she might have lived because the other children had avoided her. Silas says that vent bacteria don't kill immunoefficient(6) teenagers.

Gideon thinks it doesn't make sense, why would the Ninth kill an entire generation? Their population has been waning for centuries. Killing any child would be "a horrifying waste of resources" and the creche flu was an extinction event.

Gideon asks if he's saying the Reverend Father and Mother killed hundreds of their own kids. He doesn't answer. Colum finishes styling his hair, and starts making tea.

"The Ninth House is a House of broken promises," said Silas. "The Eighth House remembers that they were not meant to live. They had one job--one rock to roll over one tomb; one act of guardianship, to live and die in a single blessedness--and they made a cult instead. [...] I do not know why the Emperor suffered that shadow of a House.(7) That mockery of his name. A House that would keep lamps lit for a grave that was meant to pass into darkness is a House that would kill two hundred children. A House that would kill a woman and her son simply for attempting to leave is a House that would kill two hundred children."

Gideon is unsettled, but asks why they would do that, kill a whole generation of children but not herself or Harrow. Silas says she should tell him, since Gideon's the one who tried to leave in a shuttle with a bomb. He continues softly that he doesn't think any child of that House should become a Lyctor. He's not sure anyone at all should become a Lyctor. Power isn't inherently good, and cleverness isn't necessarily truth. Maybe no one should have that power, and that's why he must take Gideon's keys.

Gideon is "almost disappointed" that that's all this is about. Silas says he's doing it for the greater good of all the Houses. Gideon asks, what if she says no? Then he will challenge her for them, and she might find the duel difficult without her sword.

Gideon looks over at Colum Asht, expecting him to have his sword out already with a grin, but he's dropped his needlework and is staring at his necromancer. He says he promised that Gideon would find no violence here. Silas says that's fine, an oath made to the Ninth is meaningless, as their hearts are barren and black. Gideon searches her brain for a witty retort, but Colum beats her to it, saying he's "not worried about the Ninth's heart". He swore on his honour that Gideon would not be hurt. Silas maintains his position, but Colum asks what his honour means to his uncle.

Gideon stays dead still throughout this exchange, so they don't notice her and she might be able to mount an escape since her things are by the door anyway.

Silas says he won't debate words here, he will help Colum to atone later, but-- but Colum says he is Silas's cavalier. He has his sword, and his honour. Everything else is Silas's. Silas says if Colum objects so much, then he can take Colum's sword without asking, and lifts his arm as if to start siphoning. Gideon senses this could be game over, but she looks away from Silas and accidentally locks eyes with Colum, unable to look away until Colum comes to some sort of decision.

"Once upon a time you would've taken everything I said as gospel," he said, in a very different voice. "I used to think that was worse than now ... but I was wrong."

Silas turns to look at Colum, the first time he's looked at anything but Gideon since he entered the room. Colum says he respected the child Silas once was, but he can't stand the man he's become. Silas suggests he recall his oath, but Colum says he was one of three brothers engineered with different blood types, undergoing a decade of treatments, waiting to see who Silas would need for maximum compatibility. He was made into a man who doesn't "pick and choose his decencies!"

Colum jerks his chin in Gideon's direction, then turns and walks to the door. Gideon, operating on an instinctive level that senses that escape might be imminent, follows him. Silas doesn't move. Colum hands Gideon's sword back to her, cavalier to cavalier.

And his eyes were the eyes of a man who had just tied his own noose.

Gideon takes the blade, knowing that she owes him. He says the next time they meet, they're unlikely to both walk away. Gideon says "Yeah" in a way she hopes implies her apology. Colum hands her the knuckle knife, and suggests she get away from here. Gideon half wants to take him with her, but knows he wouldn't leave anyway, so she goes quietly.

As she walked away, she braced for a sudden burst of angry voices, yelling, recriminations, maybe even a cry of pain. But there was only silence.

=====

(1) Gideon's great betrayal is still not, in fact, disobeying Harrow's direct order. She doesn't go to Dulcinea, she doesn't even precisely break ranks. She does something she knows will piss Harrow off but that was never explicitly forbidden. I just cannot with my feelings about these two and THEIR feelings. (2) How much do we think this is careful wordplay about the nuances between hurt and harm? To my understanding "hurt" is a sharp, acute, and typically physical thing, while "harm" has a much broader definition. I wouldn't discount Muir purposely playing the words like piano keys in this way. (3) What could this mean, and why is it colourful? (4) Ablution - the act of washing oneself. A word that's often used and maybe clear from context but not a lot of people actually look it up so I'm pretty sure I've seen it used to refer to other bathroom activities. (5) More gene terms! Phenotype is the visible expression of a gene, typically the most dominant version you carry. Most things have more than one factor, but for example, in the main gene for hair colour, a brown version will override (is dominant over) a blond version (the recessive one), so even if you had from your parents one blond and one brown gene, you'd have a brown hair phenotype. Gideon's red hair phenotype must be unusual, for Silas to remark on it this way. (6) Immunodeficient means the immune system is less than it should be. Immunoefficient, as used here, means an immune system that's working as expected. (7) I dunno, seems awfully presumptuous to question your still-living God Emperor if you claim to be doing his will.

#the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #gtn #gideon the ninth spoilers #gtn spoilers #gideon nav #silas octakiseron #colum asht

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peacehopeandrats · 6 months

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NaNo, Random List

Rolled again today and got this gift of a collection. I had originally wanted only 5 things, but when I realized I'd put in 7 by accident I'd already created the fic out of most of them, so they stay. (I was trying to get the page to work properly and kept putting in random numbers before just Googling the page to go to the proper link. Sometimes this site is the worst.)

"I know why you're doing this," Rogers hissed through the bars of Gideon's cell.

Gideon wished he had enough frustration built up to scream or pull at his hair or something, but he didn't feel anything anymore. He was so very tired of everyone telling him what he needed or wanted. They might have known his parents or even known him years ago before they left town, but they couldn't claim to know HIM.

"You really don't." Gideon said at last, pushing the words through clenched teeth. "Please just let me serve this sentence and move on to exile."

"Self imposed exile." The Detective opened the cell and deposited the breakfast plate he'd brought, the side of it practically overflowing with vegetable omlette and toast with jam. "You're a traveler," he told Gideon. "You don't know how to go about a life in one place. There's nothing wrong with that. But you don't have to permanently ship yourself off to somewhere else to find happiness. Go live in a hut in Cambodia for a while or raft down the amazon! You could even travel back to the Enchanted Realms and pay tribute to all the things you've done in the past. Just don't do THIS to yourself."

"I man handled the Princess," Gideon grumbled, forcing himself to look away. "I have no right to-"

"What is this? Some exaggeration of suffering for all the things you did in the past?" The once pirate was shouting now, swinging one arm to encompass the sheriff's office in a single, sweeping arc. "No one here thinks you have any connection at all to the version of yourself that tried to ki-"

"Sorry." Emma's voice cut through the Detective's protest so sharply that he actually staggered backward a step. Gideon hadn't seennher enter, but she now stood near her desk, holding up a frm in one hand and giving them a helpless shrug. "I need the copy paper."

Rogers sighed as if there were something more to this interruption than either of them were letting on. In fact, Gideon knew that there was. His father had always refused to retell tales of their days together before the Final Battle, leaving Gideon to assume that something tragic had befallen them to cause what Lex had labeled his "reboot" after the battle had been won.

The hook on the Detective's hand lifted toward one of the nearby doors, then fell again. "I put it in the closet."

"Thanks," she said, eyeing the two of them warily before speaking again. "So... Do either of you know why there's a slightly obese stone lizard man on the roof?"

Rogers left the cell and stormed away, not even bothering to close it or lock Gideon inside. "His friend," he gripped on the way out. "Come to steal him away from us in the night."

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thefirsthogokage · 1 year

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Criminal Minds 2x06:

'The Boogieman'

Reaction/Commentary Below The Cut

Should have said this in the last post, but she had every fucking right to be angry at Hotch.

----

Maybe what I don't like the most about this whole storyline is this scene with Elle right here at the beginning: her being perfectly fine - or saying she's perfectly fine, - and her whole attitude. The way her behavior is.

I really don't like the whole storyline in general, actually. I'll be glad when she's gone after this and Prentiss can come in.

----

Oh yeah, Elle Fanning. Interesting to have an actor Elle in the character Elle's last episode.

She's the killer right? I'm not sure if I remember that from the first time, or if it was what I read recently about Elle in this episode.

----

Aww, poor kids. Killer must be a coward if he's hunting kids. Or reliving something.

----

Sending Hotch to find Elle? When she rightfully blames him for her getting shot? Bad call, Gideon.

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Once again, I will say what they do visually with this show is unique. Similar to CSI, but not exactly the same.

----

"Lived in Arizona his whole life" is that what Derek said? Like yeah, but I would think you would say "he lived in the area his whole life".

----

Please tell me this boys aren't going to run and leave the other kid alone when they are supposed to be using the buddy system?

Yup, they did. Assholes. They got him killed. Little fucking shits.

I hope this boy isn't dead. Let us have that win.

----

I probably shouldn't have watched the episode because of the kids, but I needed to see Elle leave.

Wait was that the kid going to the door? Or one of the other two that egged him on? I can only remember the tall one being blonde-ish. Don't remember what the two two boy's faces well.

----

Isn't the guy too big of a person to have done the killings? Didn't they say the killer was small?

----

That's not how you pronounce recluse.

Poor Finnegan.

----

They talk about Arizona like it's a city.

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He's trying to protect his daughter.

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According to interrogators, this scene is very, very bad. Only on TV.

Oh he isn't the father of the little girl.

----

Gideon so far seems to be doing an interrogation style that would fit better with what actual interrogators do.

I could have sworn the little girl was the killer. I guess not. She's the final victim they have to save.

God the whole "groups of two thing was stupid. Should have been groups of three.

----

GOOD GIRL! What a smartie!

You got this kiddo! Just last a little more! Keep moving! Use that adrenaline!

Kids are so much easier to subdue than grown adults with weapons.

Though absolutely insane that they will grab kid with a blunt weapon, but not tackle a grown man with one.

And I just gotta point out this kid is Ginger. What is it with this whole "evil Ginger" thing?

----

Yeah, Reid, you absolutely fucking should have said something!

Yes, Derek, Elle made her own choice, but she was losing her shit, and she couldn't stop herself.

#criminal minds #criminal minds 206 #riley watches tv #riley watches criminal minds

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mcbenson25 · 2 years

Text

More Than He Bargained For Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Final Part

Warning: Slight Language

"So let me get this straight. Harry and Y/N are in love with each other but they refuse to admit it?"

"We do not," you groaned. "We're just friends."

"Oh suuure."

You were with Felicity, Caitlin, Iris, and Kara at the nail salon. They had all been talking about how their love lives were going and of course, Iris had brought Harry up.

"Why don't you guys just kiss already?" Felicity said to you.

"No one is kissing anyone."

"You're just lying to yourself," Kara sing-songed.

"I am not."

They all laughed at your frustrated state.

"But really Y/N you guys look happy together. You always look out for us and you deserve to be happy too," Caitlin said as she squeezed your arm.

"Thanks Caitlin," you said softly.

Oh if they only knew.

Kara started talking about her sister and your mind dozed off.

Caitlin was right. You should have been happy.

But you weren't.

And as you watched Iris smile and laugh you couldn't help but feel a little sense of jealousy.

She had the love of her life who was willing to do anything and everything for her. They loved each other unconditionally, no matter what happened they always seemed to come back to each other.

Something you were starting to doubt you would ever have.

----------------

*years ago*

"Y/N did you-"

"It's right here Dr. Wells," you said handing him a file.

"Thank you."

You nodded in acknowledgment as you answered the phone.

He smiled. It was nice having you around. Everything was always take care of and organized. It made his life a whole lot easier.

"You need to eat," your voice bringing him back.

"I'm sorry?"

"You haven't ate since this morning."

He chuckled. You not only did your job well but made sure everyone else was okay.

"Alright. I'll grab some Big Belly only if you go home. It's way past four."

You frowned. "There's still a lot to do."

"You have done more than enough today. I'm sure it will all be there tomorrow as well."

You sighed. He was right. "Alright but don't keep everyone here too late."

"I won't," he paused, "and not that it's any of my business but I over heard you talking on the phone about having a date tonight?"

You eyes went wide. "Oh my goodness! Yes I totally forgot."

"Well I'm sure you wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

You gathered you things. "Right. I'll see you tomorrow Dr. Wells."

"Good night Y/N." He watched you run off before going back to his office. He ran into Caitlin who was looking for you.

"I'm afraid I just sent her home Dr. Snow."

Caitlin sighed in relief. "Thank God. I was about to drag her home. She has a hard time leaving work behind."

Dr. Wells chuckled. "Yes it's quite difficult to do sometimes when there's so much to do."

"Mmhm." Came Caitlin's reply.

Dr. Wells chuckled before turning towards Caitlin. "You know what why don't you all go home for the day? We all have worked ourselves quite hard these past couple of months. I think a break is in order."

Caitlin gave Dr. Wells a look of surprise. "Really?"

"Yes. Go be with your fiancé Ronnie."

Caitlin smiled softly.

"Thank you Dr. Wells," she said gratefully before walking back to the lab to tell everyone the good news.

Dr. Wells was quick to leave making sure no one saw him as he made one last stop.

"Gideon report?"

"The time wraith has not been near the labs and it seems like your plan to trick it to different places has been successful so far," the AI told him.

"Wonderful."

"Dr. Wells.."

"Yes Gideon?"

"Soon it will need a more permanent solution."

"I know Gideon," he sighed before turning the AI off.

He took a look at his suit on the other side of the room.

Just a little while longer.

His phone went off, breaking him from his thoughts.

He glanced at it and smiled when he saw the message.

With one last glance at his suit he phased out of Well's face and ran to Jitters.

"Eobard!"

He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face when he heard his name. Almost immediately he felt warm lips against his.

"Hello my darling," he said as he pulled back and rested his forehead against his lover's.

"I missed you."

Eobard smiled softly.

"I missed you more," he paused before leaning in for another kiss, "Y/N."

-----------------------

"Are you done?"

"No Harry. I told you we were going to go get our nails done in the morning and then our hair and then go out for lunch."

Harry had called you during the middle of the day wondering at what time he should pick you up. You had barely gotten three words in before Iris snatched your phone and put it on speaker.

You heard mumbling on the other side of the line. Something along the lines that he didn't understand why women went through all that just for a wedding. You giggled.

"Just call me when you're ready," he finally said.

"I will."

"Okay bye." As soon as you hung up you were attacked by questions.

"Why does he want to pick you up?"

"Is he taking you somewhere?"

"Are you guys secretly dating?"

You stood up. "No. No. And absolutely not!"

They all gave you a look.

"We're not!" You said defensively.

"Fine," Kara said with a sigh, "then you wouldn't mind if we set Caitlin up with him?"

Caitlin's eyes went choked on her breath. "What?"

"Well remember you said that you and Harry got pretty cozy the other day when you went out for coffee?" Iris said as you turned to face Caitlin, completely missing her wink at Caitlin.

"R-right. We were talking about some stuff and he said if I ever needed a shoulder to lean on, he would be there."

You rolled your eyes. This was not going to work on you.

"Whatever Harry does or says is none of my business."

There was a collective sigh.

"Alright fine. You guys can keep lying to each other," Kara said throwing her hands up in defeat.

You let out a frustrated breath. "Look. I'm just not ready to be in a relationship. My life is too complicated right now. I don't want to drag anyone into it."

It was quiet for a moment before Iris spoke up.

"Look Y/N. We've had a lot happen in the last couple of years. Thawne. Zoom. Savitar. And now Devoe," Iris sighed before she continued, "Having someone by your side, someone to love, someone to fight for? It's the only thing that keeps you sane."

"I know," you said quietly.

"Then trust us," Felicity said as they all sat next to you, "and trust yourself to love."

You smiled softly at them.

If only it was that easy.

----------------

"So you and Y/N are next?" Oliver said taking a swig out of his drink as he waited for Barry to try his suit.

"What?"

"Y/N. You guys gonna get together or what?"

Harry sighed annoyed.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Well Barry said you two have been getting close over the past weeks."

"We're just friends," Harry gruffed.

Oliver nodded. "Sure. That's what I said about Felicity."

"What about Felicity?" Came a voice from behind them.

The two men turned around and found Barry in his suit.

"Just that I said we were just friends and now she's the love of my life," Oliver said as he eyed Barry's suit, "it's a tad to long from the legs."

Barry frowned as he moved his leg. "I thought so too," he gestured for someone to come over.

"Is this about Harry and Y/N?" He asked as she explained to the worker what was wrong with his pants.

"Yep. They're both just making it harder on each other. Trust me when you tell her you'll feel a million times better," Oliver said.

"Listen I'm no-," his voice raising slightly before sighing, "I'm not going to tell her because there's nothing to say."

Barry looked at Harry as he sat down next to him

"Look Harry. Y/N been through a lot. She's protected me and the rest of team ever since we met, always putting us first. You've seen first hand how's she's put herself in danger. She looks out for everyone and she deserves someone to look out for her."

But she does. And you wouldn't believe who it is.

Harry let out a short bitter laugh.

He doesn't even come see her. He's left her here to fend for herself.

There was a pat on his shoulder as Barry got up.

"I'm serious man. You two are meant to be together." And with that he and Oliver got up as they finished up with their final touches.

Harry sat there annoyed and frustrated. He rubbed his face as he took his glasses off.

Barry was right. You deserved better. So why would you have to settle on someone who can't be with you. Someone who is always on the run.

Harry stood up as one of the workers brought out his suit

He fixed his glasses back on his face as he made a decision.

You shouldn't have to suffer because of Thawne. You shouldn't have to carry the weight and worry on your shoulders.

And he would make sure you wouldn't.

--------------

Harry sat impatiently in the car.

What was taking you so long?

You had called him a little while ago letting him know you were ready but now Harry was growing impatient because you still hadn't come out.

He was about to call you when he looked up and saw you and he could have sworn his jaw dropped to the ground.

There you were coming down the stairs in a dark green dress that hugged every curve and made your eyes dazzle as you laughed to something one of the girls said.

To say you looked beautiful was the understatement of the year.

He immediately got out of the car.

"Y/N. H-hi," he stuttered as he tripped over the sidewalk.

"Are you alright?" You asked concerned.

"Yeah I'm fine," he said, not able to tear his eyes off you.

"Well I guess we'll be off then! We'll see you guys at the rehearsal dinner!" Iris said with a grin plastered on her face.

"Have fun!" Felicity followed with a giggle.

Harry only acknowledged them with a faint, "Mmhm."

You began to feel self conscious as you felt your face heat up.

"Is this too much? I told the girls the dress was too much."

Harry snapped out of his daze.

"What? No. You look," he paused, the brilliant scientist at a loss of words to even begin to describe you, "stunning."

You blushed as you swatted him.

"Oh stop," you said playfully.

"I'm serious."

You smiled softly at him.

"Thanks."

"Always," he said with a smile.

There was a pause as Harry stood there just mesmerized in a trance.

"Um Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"We should get going."

"Right! Yep let's go," he said distantly before his mind was able to register and tell him to open the door for you.

As he shut the door he smiled widely.

Maybe things were finally working in his favor.

---------------

"Barry! Iris!" You exclaimed as you walked into Jitters which had been converted into a lovely party salon.

"Y/N!" Barry exclaimed back as he turned around. "Woah. You look different.".

You giggled. "Thank you. I just wanted to congratulate you again because I'm so happy for you two!"

"Thank you Y/N. It's means a lot to us," Iris said sincerely with a smile.

"Just don't forget to name me God Mother when you have kids," you said with a wink.

Barry blushed as he stuttered over his words but Iris was quick to quip back.

"Okay but don't forget to send us an invitation when you and Harry get married."

It's was your turn to get flustered.

"Touche Iris, touche."

You all laughed as Harry came and offered you a drink.

"So how was your day?"

He sighed. "Well it was very long. It had a beginning, a middle, and now," he said as he took your glass away, "an ending."

You laughed softly.

"Well I can't wait to see you in your suit tomorrow."

He grinned. "Well compared to you I don't think I'll even dare to measure up."

"Oh stop."

"Never," he said as her grabbed your hands and pulled you towards the dance floor.

"Harry I can't dance!"

"It's okay," he said as he placed one hand on your waist and pulled you closer, "I'll teach you."

You swayed lightly to the soft tune as he guided your feet.

"The key is to not focus on where your feet are going. Otherwise you'll mess up."

You nodded as you tried to follow his steps. You tripped on his foot but Harry caught you in a dip before you fell.

His face was incredibly close to yours. You could feel his breath against yours and you couldn't help but stare into his deep blue eyes.

"Can I have everyone's attention please," Joe's voice boomed, "Everyone take a drink."

You pulled away from Harry as he reached for drinks. He handed you one as Joe began to talk about how happy he was for Barry and Iris and how proud and grateful he was. It made your eyes slightly water.

"You see two people who love like that," he paused, slightly choking up, "and you want it too."

He reached for Cecile and you couldn't help the small tear that made its way down your cheek.

Joe was right. Seeing them made you believe in fairy tales and happy endings. It made you believe in love.

You felt something graze your hand and you didn't hesitate to lock your hands with Harry's as you leaned against his shoulder.

Maybe there was still a chance for you to have a happy ending.

----------------

"How long do we have to wait?"

"Be patient. We have to attack at just the right time."

"You better be right about this Eobard."

Eobard stood on top of the building across from Jitters with his two new allies.

He had been watching you for days now as his partners planned for their attack. He had wanted to talk to you. To be with you. But he had seen how you were acting with Wells.

The doppelganger.

He scowled as he watched you dance with him.

He may have made some mistakes but let him be damned if he wasn't going to fight for you.

He kept watching as Iris and Barry came into view.

But first..

he was going to have a little fun taking down The Flash.

Taglist: @khayrrilrainxwells @kirareaper13 @i-dont-care-lol

Oh my Gosh. This is probably the longest chapter I've ever written. I feel like I overwrote. I just got very a little carried away. I'm sorry if its too long or boring or something. I hope you enjoy this part and brace yourselves because things are about to get a whole lot more complicated ;) As always I love any and all feedback and let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

#harry wells x reader #harrison wells #harry wells #eobard x reader #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #reverse flash x reader #reverse flash #the flash cw #barry allen #iris west allen #xreader #x reader #reader imagine #fanfic #dc

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paradoxcase · 6 months

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Chapter 50 of Harrow the Ninth

Well, I mean, maybe. If you get resurrected, like I said in the last writeup, that does probably clear space for a new character to appear

So, Wake possessed Cytherea's body, probably starting from when Harrow stabbed the body with the sword a second time, I would guess. This doesn't make sense to me for a couple of reasons, though: 1) How could Wake be simultaneously piloting around Cytherea's body while also fighting Nonius in the River bubble? It seems like her soul would have to be in two different places simutaneously for that to happen, and 2) If Wake already has Cytherea's body, why does she need to kill Harrow and possess her body as well? It's not like she's having trouble using Cytherea to cause chaos. I guess you could maybe argue that the whole Nonius fight just took place while Cytherea was tied up, but I think Wake has been trying to possess Harrow from the beginning of the River bubble stuff

So this point of contention is not about environmental destruction of the Earth, or anything like that, then?

So, apparently the first part is from Henry V, the second part is from the Maori version of the New Zealand national anthem, and the last part is an Eminem lyric. Does BOE use a naming scheme that's like the Puritans who named themselves after entire bible verses, except that instead of using the bible, they use the entire corpus of pre-Resurrection media?

Also, I've been told by people that they are somehow speaking modern English even 10,000 years into the future, does that also go for BOE? Clearly Wake is able to communicate with the other characters without issues. But if this is really just supposed to be the case because John is some kind of micromanager who somehow manages to magically stop language change in the Nine Houses, why would BOE be affected by that? They aren't even in the Nine Houses, and I doubt very much that John cares whether or not they can communicate with him. Anyway, the reason I mention this is that if BOE no longer spoke a language in which these phrases mean anything, they would actually probably work much better as names. The first two seem fine as they are, actually, but I think the Eminem lyric becomes substantially less silly-looking if you don't know what it means. And Wake says "they're dead words", but if she is speaking modern English to John, they aren't really dead words, are they?

This makes zero sense. She's been walking around the Mithraeum with a gun, she's been perfectly capable of killing herself whenever she wanted to do that. Also, does John see himself as a cop?

Was the prison on the Ninth actually intended to be a dummy target for BOE? I don't know how much sense that makes, since like John says, there's nothing on the Ninth except the Tomb, and until the conclusion of this chapter I think he's very sure that no one can use the Tomb against him. So why put a decoy there?

I'm guessing this is a reference to whatever catastrophe happened just before the Resurrection and not, say, the bombs that BOE sent against John's ships?

Would being named after an Evanescence lyric really be any sillier than being named after an Eminem lyric? Honestly, it's probably an improvement in this particular case

So that's an interesting thing, actually - Wake's skeleton was almost certainly converted into a construct for snow leek farming/etc. on the Ninth, so it would have been perfectly human-shaped and mobile, it's not like her bones got buried in the ground or something. Earlier Harrow said that revenants want to inhabit something that's mobile - like a skeleton - or they get bored and leave. So why did she leave her perfectly mobile skeleton to go possess Gideon's sword? Did she only possess the sword when she found out it might leave the planet? What is the thanergy link between Wake's skeleton and the sword in the first place? Or was she just able to possess the sword because it belonged to Gideon?

After reading the entire chapter I'm still not sure what she knows now that she didn't know then. That the Tomb was opened 8 years ago and nothing much happened? I'm guessing she was in on this because she thought opening the Tomb would end the Nine Houses

So Mercy was somehow able to make sperm survive for 12 weeks, but couldn't make the ova last that long? I know thanergy is bad for reproduction, but this is kind of like how Hal 9000 doesn't have all the abilities of modern computers but can somehow beat every human at chess. Or who knows, maybe John's sperm is just special like that

There's something about this story, where Gideon was literally conceived and born just to die, not even properly named, her whole purpose was just to die so that someone else could achieve some end, and then that didn't happen and she was saved from that fate by Commander Wake's death, and then she grew up and independently decided that her whole purpose in life was to die for someone else anyway

Why does he do this? I theorized before that Pyrrha is stil around and he's kind of both of them, so do his eyes betray when he is Gideon versus Pyrrha too and he wants to hide that?

I'm absolutely dying to know exactly what kind of relationship these two(/three?) had/have. They had an affair and they do seem to like each other, but he killed her literally twice now and she very much tried to kill him with the whole incinerator thing. Actually, I mean, speaking of the incinerator incident, when he talked to Harrow after that, did he really think Wake was possessing Harrow? Did he not realize she was actually possessing Cytherea? I think he must have realized she was possessing Cytherea, because of his visits to her before that, but then after the incinerator thing he was talking to Harrow like she was Wake. But I guess Wake was then also in the River bubble doing the two-places at once thing

What Pyrrha died for? I mean, aside from the fact that I think Pyrrha might still be around, actually, wouldn't the official story be that Pyrrha died 10,000 years ago and not 19 years ago?

I love all of Gideon Nav's descriptions of Gideon the First: Gideon Classic, Gideon Senior, Gideon Prime, Gideon, original flavor

Is this the real reason why John seals himself up when they fight the resurrection beasts, so he doesn't bleed blood that could be used to open the Tomb?

So, the original plan was the Gideon's death would, by itself, undo the blood ward and then presumably Mercy or Augustine could come by later to undo all of the other wards? And what actually happened was that there was a thanergy bloom because of the deaths of the 200 children and then Gideon like, I don't know, scraped her knee outside the Tomb once and that undid the blood ward? And Harrow thought she must have figured it out herself somehow?

This is simultaneously so funny and also kind of gross. But the original Deus Apate, like I mean the original Greek one, was really just about distracting God and not about secretly harvesting his sperm to create a baby to bring about the apocalypse, no one needed to specifically seduce Zeus to get him to create babies with absolutely everyone. I thought it was an appropriate reference when it appeared earlier in the story because that was about distracting John, but it feels significantly less apropos here

Did Tamsyn Muir sit down and go, you know what would have been really cool? You know what would have been really great? It would have been just awesome if Darth Vader had cracked a dad joke at the end of Return of the Jedi, I'm so mad he didn't do that

Things that are still not resolved as of this chapter:

What does Gideon's eye color mean?

Why were Mercy and Augustine trying to open the Tomb?

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth

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mayasaura · 2 years

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"Went to see a man about a king" haunts me more than any other line in that book. What is she planning

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I HAVE NO IDEA.

The first time I read the Harrow the Ninth I was balls to the wall obsessed with Gideon, so I skimmed right over this line. Now, though? It haunts me too.

Quick recap on the context for those following along at home: this is the last line of the Epiparados of Harrow the Ninth. Ianthe and Harrow are on the Erabos, and it has been two days since the final chapter of Gideon the Ninth. The kind of personality that Ianthe is being said to have is the kind of personality that can 'put their hands back on the reins after they've been taken off', which I take to mean the sort of personality that can recover and bounce back when one's plans are seriously derailed.

So what are you planning, Miss Yanthe? Let's break it down.

Okay. I don't have any solid theories yet, but there are a limited number of men she could be going to see at this point in the timeline. The options seem to me to be 1) John 2) Admiral Sarpedon 3) An as-yet unintroduced character.

As to what she's seeing him about, well....

The formulation of the line implies that it's clandestine, whatever it is. The lead-in, about being able to roll with punches and take control back, implies that whatever sneaky thing she's doing isn't a new plan so much as an adjustment to a prior plan that has gone awry. This was the most enigmatic part of the statement until As Yet Unsent dropped and clued us in that the Tridentarii have been studying large-scale politics as well as large-scale energy transfer.

As for the queen, the main candidates to my mind are 1) Coronabeth 2) Ianthe herself 3) Harrow 4) Ianthe's mother 5) An as-yet unintroduced character.

Looking at the options laid out like this, my money is on the man being Admiral Sarpedon and the queen being Coronabeth. Hear me out.

First of all, the Admiral has a name from the Iliad, but has only had a brief speaking role. He is actually the only named character with a speaking role who has not had an effect on the plot. That's suspicious. Even more suspicious that Sarpedon in the Iliad is known for stressing the importance of a king leading battles from the front, to keep the respect of his people. You may already have noticed that Admiral Sarpedon's one speaking role is, true to theme, to object to John leaving the frontlines to live on the Mithraeum. Mercy pulling John away from his Empire may have caused more trouble than we know. Secondly, to tie Sarpedon back to Ianthe and her queen, I strongly suspect that Sarpedon is Judith's father. If I'm right about that, Ianthe would have both a personal connection to him and inside information about his daughter's fate to leverage.

I don't think I need to explain Corona being the queen, the plan will explain that.

So if Sarpedon is the man and Corona is the queen, what was the plan Ianthe wanted to see him about? This is the answer I think we get in As Yet Unsent:

Just like Ianthe must have noticed that the energy exchange of the Nine Houses doesn't add up, Corona has noticed that their economic structure is unstable and unsustainable. Ianthe has been trying to reverse engineer the Resurrection and by extention discover the power that made a man into a god. Corona has been unsatisfied with the leadership of the Nine Houses, has a detailed plan for how to improve their policies, and has been grooming herself for a position for which she now feels unfit. She asks Judith to metaphorically bind her down, or who knows what throne she will mount.

I think the plan that was derailed initially had the end goal of a change in leadership for the Nine Houses, and I think Corona was, if necessary, meant to become the new face of God. She may not have been born a necromancer, but I'd wager neither was John.

So I think when Ianthe went to ask a man about a queen, she probably asked Sarpedon to help her find Corona and Judith. Though there are enough unknowns about the Tridentarii's plan and Sarpedon in general that I doubt that's the full scope of it. It does seem to me like the loyalty of the Admiral commanding the Seat of the Emperor may well be important in any coming power struggle.

#the locked tomb #ianthe tridentarius #coronabeth tridentarius #admiral sarpedon #tlt meta #harrow the ninth #htn spoilers #as yet unsent #thanks for this question it was a very interesting puzzle

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cakepoppresent · 2 months

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Couldn't Handle The Storm

Gideon enters frantically and is met with Su waiting for him by the door with a look mixed with smugness "Wow surprised you made it. The love of your life is battered and bruised and where were you?" "Thank you for bringing in Grayson"

Su: Thats all you have to say?

Gideon: Thats all there is to say, Mr. Kim

Su: Hmm...crazy to think when Grayson needed you most you weren't there. What were you doing

Gideon: I'm only going to show appreciation once. You can leave now

Su: Fine. See you around Gideon

There is a tense atmosphere in the room. Gideon's is tight with tension as he walks towards Grayson. How can they move on from this? Can they? What will he tell Grayson's parents? He made a promise he would keep Grayson safe and he failed. Miserably. Climbing into bed, Gideon needs to hold Grayson close "I'm so sorry Grayson"

Grayson: I was really scared Gideon, that person threatened my sisters. What are we going to do?

Gideon: I'll handle it. Just please don't -

Grayson: You keep saying you'll handle it. I trust you but I'm still scared

Gideon: Grayson...don't

Grayson: I still love you. I just...I need to think about my family too. I can't put them in harm's way

Gideon: Grayson. Please

Grayson: You said once you graduate and that's in 2 weeks. Just 2 weeks to figure things out

Gideon gets up from the bed, silence still thick with tension and gives Grayson one last kiss. "I'll see you in one week. Just give me two weeks, and everything will be fine" Grayson doesn't reply he knows it's not Gideon's fault but he can't help his feelings of fustration

Gideon: I've already called your parents before coming, they will be here by tomorrow night. I love you, Grayson. Don't ever forget it

Gideon leaves with those last words and makes a call outside "I need a favour...Yea something happened and I need you to find someone"

At the Williams Residence

Simone: The boy must have gotten the message by now, give it a few days and after the shareholders' meeting you should approach Gideon

Alaia: I understand Grandma"

Simone: Good girl, Don't worry it's just a small bump in the road everything will be fine now

Viktor: If he wasn't so stubborn none of this would have happened. What a waste of time

Alaia despite her concerns a few days before is ecstatic, finally after all these months of embarrassment she's got her justice. The next step is showing Gideon she's the best option

The conversation is cut short when they enter the living room and see Gideon seated, quiet with a battered and bruised body on the floor. "The only saving grace you have right now is that Grayson is alive"

Viktor: Gideon, what is the meaning of this?

Gideon: There isn't a point going to the police, I know that so I dropped him off for you.

Viktor: Gideon...This is for the best, You have to think of the Williams family name

Gideon: Right...the family name. Consider that dead and gone. I'll see you at the shareholders meeting

Gideon gets up and dusts himself off "This is my fault, I have been too lax with the nonsense you've been doing. This is the last time. Stay away from Grayson and his family. There is no familial relationship that will prevent me from doing what I need to do. Understand?"

Gideon ignores them and leaves them in silence. Alaia runs towards Gideon trying to call out his name, surprisingly Gideon stops. "Miss Wagner, that also extends to you, we are strangers and you mean nothing to me"

#my sims #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 gameplay #sims #sims 4 creator #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 maxis match #thereevesfamily #black sims 4 #black sims cc #blacksims #black sims of color #black simmer #black simblr #sims 4 storytelling #blacksimmer #tried resizing the image so hopefully it looks better on moblie?

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Spring breeze part.4 — Spencer Reid

Icon by @obiwansjedi

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3

Sumarry: After the breakup, Spencer and the Reader follow different paths and lives. But, after 8 years, Gideon's death brings an avalanche of emotions, putting the two face to face again in a reencounter that could break their hearts again — season 10 —

Couple: Spencer Reid /Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence, death of the father, depressive thoughts, murder, crying, swearing, a lot of anguish, mention of love, fluff (but it has a very fluff too, I'm not a monster)

Word count: 5k.

A/N: This is the most sad chapter that has, I promise that the next will be very cute.💖

I saw Gideon's death episode again to make it as faithful as possible for you guys. I used the original Criminal Minds chronology too, being 8 years from Gideon's last appearance until his death.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Hunting bandits. Save people. Improve the world a little bit every day. Those were the three things Spencer believed it was worth to be at BAU. It was worth fighting for, holding on, staying sleepless for days, being haunted by murderers by day and nightmares at night. For what it was worth looking at the abyss, even when it looks to you

Reid could deal with human perversion, with the thousand and one ways to practice heinous crimes, the sowing of evil and cruelty. He could cope with constantly being inside insane minds, learning his whys and mechanisms. He could take it. He put up with it day after day, case after case. He endured being tortured, stay being held at gunpoint, having a piece of his essence plucked with red-hot iron month after month. Spencer knew he could handle it.

But he couldn't handle death. Goodbye. It shattered his soul far more than difficult cases, pushed his own sanity to the limit. Perhaps burying his feelings as deeply as possible was just a method of delaying the wave that would drown him at one time or another. Inevitably.

Each farewell took a piece of Reid away. His father, his mother, Ellie, you, Gideon, JJ, were just a few of the people who left, living their lives elsewhere. But what about those who died? The victims, the children, Hayley, Maeve, Emily (even if only for a short time) and so many others. These took much more than a piece of him. Maybe costu his whole soul.

Spencer felt himself harden over the years, the cases, loss after loss, day after loss. He felt the purity of his own heart slip through his fingers like sand, the faith in humanity to be put to the test. Sometimes even faith in himself.

Was that the price to pay for that job? Being constantly vulnerable? See his life and the lives of the people his loved most at gunpoint?

It was worth?

Maeve's death shook him more than any other, sucking all the pink glow from his world, leaving him with only the cold feeling of hopelessness. A very deep void. It took a long time for memories of she not to hurt like red-hot iron, for his breathing not to be heavy. It took a long time to be happy again.

And when Spencer felt healed from the deepest wounds, the most visceral pains, he was hit again. Deeply. If Maeve's death was a wave that brought him down, Gideon's death was the tsunami that destroyed him.

“It's Gideon.” Hotch's voice confirmed the fear of everyone in that cottage.

Then Spencer felt shattered. Torn apart. Torn like a rag doll and placed on the fire. He wanted to scream, to scream so loudly that he would never regain his voice. He wanted to break something, destroy some, run away.

But run away from whom? From what? That pain or himself? If Spencer had been able to tear off his own skin at that time and be someone else, he would not have hesitated. Not having dropped to his knees in that cottage was a miracle, because Spencer no longer knew what was holding him upright.

Jason Gideon, in many ways, was all that Spencer had. He knew that they took different paths and traveled different roads, living different lives, but he believed that they always end up on the same, even one they was old. Spencer was sure that if he was dying on his knees, Gideon would be to rescue him. For all those 8 years, it was extremely comforting to think that Gideon was out there, living life, finding the hope he had in college, finding the brilliance the world had.

And Reid knew that Jason had you. And you had Gideon. That was the most soothing and comforting thought. No matter what, he knew that you would take care of Jason, just like he would take care of you. But now... now Spencer's world had dissolved in the air. Like a sandcastle knocked over by the wind.

And the pain was surreal.

When he realized, he had left the room, close to the... body. If he could, Spencer would have moved away from himself. How would he take it? One more death, another psychopath. How many other people he love will are died at the hands of the work he did every day?

The answer to all of these questions was frightening, and Spencer wasn't sure if wanted them.

The trip to the coroner was the worst Reid had ever done, talking about the body was the worst conversation he had ever had. And when Morgan put his hand on his shoulder and said that he couldn't close himself now, that they were going to get that son of a bitch, all Spencer wanted to say was that he couldn't take it anymore. That he couldn't breathe. The emptiness was too oppressive. So much visceral pain.

But that was not what Spencer said. He just clung to the only lifeguard in the middle of the rough and deserted sea: justice. Gideon deserve it.

Reid doesn't know how he managed to get back to the Gideon’s house, how he managed to hear Hotch and Rossi talking about what could have happened. But he was there, standing, by some miracle.

“Do you know who might want to have done this?” Hotch asked Stephen, who had arrived, his eyes red from the crying he struggled to hold.

“No. I know he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died... That's how we came back to speak, one of the things was to get back in touch.” His voice was so reminiscent of Gideon's that it was stabbed in the heart of Reid.

“Didn't he talk about being chased? Feeling anything strange?” Rossi commented.

Reid watched Stephen's expressions carefully, first because he reminded Gideon a lot, and second because he looked for any clues in his reactions.

Stephen took a second to think before saying: “No, but we both don't keep in touch daily, you know?” He swallowed a sob, probably with regret, but then his eyes lit up with some information: “'But Y/n surely know, they both spoke to each other every day, if my father was thinking differently, surely she know.”

The mention of your name hit Reid with a very different wave. Bringing a very different feeling than it should. At that moment, he felt himself holding the air.

For a second, a lapse of consciousness, Spencer had not connected any of this with your physical presence. The notion that you were Gideon's daughter was obvious but, for some reason, Spencer didn't think about the fact that you were going to be there. That you would share the same air with him again, the same place...

“We will have to call her, bring her here to see if something has been left, or taken. If there is anything important on the scene.” It was Hotch.

“I called her as soon as you guys called me.” Stephen said “She arrived from California the day before yesterday, my father and she were going to travel.” He tried to swallow the crying, his eyes trembling.

"And you weren't going?" Rossi added.

“I have a son and a wife.” He gave a smile broken by the sadness of the mourning “They would stop by before I go… Y/n was going to tell me the news, since our schedules hardly match much, she works as an astronomer in…”

“Caltech.” Spencer completed, without even realizing it, like a thought out loud.

“Yea.” Stephen agreed.

Spencer felt a chill go from head to toe, and another ton of feelings were thrown at his back. The reality that he was going to see you again hit him hard. Like an arrow. Suddenly, Reid wanted to get out of there. Run as far as possible.

He couldn't see you. He had no ability to deal with those feelings now. Not now, when his life was so overwhelmed with emotions for Gideon’s death that he still hadn't dealt Not when you aroused the feeling of... hope. Spencer can’t could hope, of any kind. Not for them to be taken from him with visceral force. Reid was already hurt enough for handling another fall.

“... But I don't think it's a good idea for my sister to be here, anyway.” Stephen continued to speak.

Rossi and Hotch frowned: “Why?”

“They were very connected. Seeing this scene is not going to do her any good...” he sobs this time “Y/n is not like me… she is sentimental, emotional. ”

“As long as you're trying to stay calm, she'll be the opposite.” Hotch completed.

“I just don't want my sister to suffer anymore and...”

But it was too late for Stephen to complete. It was too much for Spencer to escape. It was too late to be born again, in a different life.

A gray car moved forward on the stone road, at too high a speed not to have washed several road fines. That was so much typical of you who hurt Spencer's heart pieces more than he thought possible. More than he thought he could feel at the time. You were always so wild at the wheel. But Reid didn't have time to finish a thought, not even Rossi, Hotch, Morgan who was with them or even Stephen. Because car brutally stopped it, the door opened and…

And it was as if the sun came out from behind the clouds after years. As if summer had finally come after decades of overwhelming winter. In a burst, everything you've ever represented for Spencer has come back for him once again. And he felt the same thing that he felt when he first saw you, 8 years ago. And he was catatonic.

You got out of the car in a very hurried and desperate way. And as much as there were tears in your eyes and redness in cheeks, Spencer has never seen anyone so beautiful. Your hair was longer, in a brighter shade, maybe you had dyed it. Your features were more lyrical and beautiful, and Reid thought that the passage of time had no effect on you. While he considered himself just less clumsy over the years, you proved to be blooming like Romania's most superb rose.

“DAD!” But that was when your desperate voice brought Reid's consciousness back to earth.

You weren't calling your brother, you weren't asking why, you weren't in mourning. You were in denial. Disbelieving. You called out to your father, with the certainty that he would show up. And the despair in your eyes hurt Reid more than being shot.

But before the agents could do anything, you were running towards the house and Stephen ran towards you, taking you in his arms, trying to keep you from getting inside.

“LET ME GO, STEPHEN!” You struggled, trying to get rid of your brother's arms, your hair messing with the wind, tears streaming down your eyes. “They are wrong! It's not our father! Let me fucking go! DAD!”

“Y/n” Stephen had a broken heart in his eyes, some tears streaming down his eyes “You need to calm down before you get in there !”

“LET ME GO!” Yours sobs broke the hearts of the four agents over there “DAD!” You was cryng out, almost like a prayer, in a desperate call.

"He's gone, Y/n.” Your brother kept his arms stronger in you, trying to contain you while you struggle in trying to break free and go inside the house, under the illusion that you would find your father there.

“NO!” Now your crying was continuous “I spoke to him yesterday! It's not him, Stephen!” Then your brother turned you to him, holding you tight, and you melted into a visseral pain “It can't be him!”

“I know...” he sobbed, looking at you with the same shared pain “I know...”

So you gave yourself up to a painful, loud and desperate crying, the kind that won't let you breathe. And, unlike Reid, you fallen down. Your knees found the stone and grass floor, your hands clasped on Stephen's shirt, who knelt on the floor with you, delivered the pain you both shared.

You knew what your father's risks were in working in such a dangerous profession. Expose yourself to constant and frightening danger. You always knew about the risks, you just tried to ignore them all your life, sinking your fears about your father not coming home at night. Then, when he let the BAU, that fear dissipated. You felt a colossal weight being lifted off your shoulders, like tons of lead, and you let go of a fear so great that you didn't even know you had it.

For 8 years you thought that the chances of him not coming home were over, that the chances of seeing him the next day had increased dramatically. For 8 years you two traveled together, stopping at every type of diner for milkshake, chocolate ice cream and mint - his favorites - For 8 years you had your best friend, the only thing you knew you had in the world. You always knew that if you were drowning in the ocean, it would be your father who would give his lungs for you to breathe.

You didn't see a life without Gideon.

For you, you were crying for hours in what one day was your father's backyard, totally devastated, but for the rest of the world it was a matter of minutes.

Your sobs were so loud and real that Hotch and Rossi caught themselves with watery eyes, perfectly understanding the pain you were going through, the devastation. The two had lost many people, many of them being essential pieces to be able to continue breathing. Many of them felt wounds that would never heal.

But it was Rossi who approached you, the pain at the top of his throat, his mind wandering the day Gideon said he was going to have a little girl. Unlike Stephen, Rossi never saw you in person, but the sparkle in Jason's eyes whenever he talked about you, or with you on the phone, was enough to know that you were one of the essential pieces to keep breathing.

“Hi, my name is Rossi.” He knelt in front of you and your face went towards him, your cheeks and nose as red as your eyes.

“M-my dad talked about you."” You were still sobbing, slowly letting go of Stephen's shirt.

"Good things, I hope.” The two of you laughed like a sigh, and soon the pain returned to your eyes in a visseral way. “I know this is not fair, and I know it is asking too much, but I need you to go inside and try to find something out of place. Something that whoever did this to your father may have taken or left. ”

You closed your eyes in pain, tears streaming as you sobbed. Your hands, trembling and cold, went to your face, perhaps trying to hide from reality, perhaps wiping away tears. Maybe both. When you looked back at Rossi again, you saw the pain in his eyes too.

"I don't know if I can do it.” You admitted, your voice shaking.

"I know.” Rossi took his hand to yours, squeezing comfortingly “But only you can help us now, help other daughters not lose their father to the same killer. Being inside in the house can bring information that is in your subconscious. I promise you will make it, we will all be here with you.”

His handshake got stronger, and it reminded you of your father. That should have been the same way he comforted the victims' relatives, the way he was supposed to act with people.

'Everyone is somebody's son.' That's what Gideon said. It hit you like an atomic bomb. And, for a moment, you thought it was possible to die of sadness.

You squeezed Rossi's hand tightly, as if you were looking for courage. When you opened eyes again, you gave a weak nod. Carefully, as if any sudden movement is capable of causing you more pain, you stood up, your legs wobbly, your heart bleeding, sadness clouding your vision. Rossi put his hand behind your back, in a way to make sure him were there, as an anchorage in reality that would not let you get lost in the valley of sadness and pain.

As you walked up to the house, you didn't see the other agents, you didn't see the trees, the cars. At that time, you didn't even know what color the sky was anymore. It was like a suspended moment, when the world is in slow motion, the hemisphere is terrified. The sadness was palpable in the breeze, in the way that the rays of the sun did not reach the ground. The whole land looked like mourning.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, the smell of home and Gideon hit your nose, and you felt your face tighten in an expression of pure pain. You didn't notice the agents coming in behind you, you didn't notice Penelope and JJ. You just saw the furniture, the decor, his stuff. As if Gideon had just left for the market and was going to come back.

Everything was in was there. Minus the most important thing: him.

You did not notice when Rossi left you, you did not notice who approached. Everything was in a haze of pain.

But that's when you saw the strong blood marks on the floor, stuck to the wood with possession. A cold shiver as sighed from death ricocheted through your entire body, bristling all over your skin. In a burst, like the bursting of a violin string, the mist dissipated, the state of tupor burst, and reality hit you with overwhelming force.

And then the plug fell.

Jason Gideon had died.

You fell again, barely noticing the sobs and loud crying starting to come out again, the most desperate and painful in you life. But this time the arms that took you were different, bringing with you sensations that you haven't felt in a long time. That a long time ago you forgot that you could feel.

They were long, thin, and contained a vigor hidden beneath the thin facade. The smell of his presence was… heaven. That feeling was your anchorage on the high seas, in the valley of despair, and you clung to him for fear of drowning, of not finding your way back home.

You didn't have to see it to know who it was.

You turned to the arms that took you, now Spencer kneels with you on the floor, and you cried in a way that you never cried before, with a visseral pain. Your hands went to the brown cardigan he wore, closing there as if the fabric was your only chance for salvation.

So you looked at the immensity of the his brown irises.

"He was the only thing I had, Spen.” You sobbed loudly with the crying, gently swaying his coat, your voice utterly torn.

Spencer felt his eyes sting, his throat lock and the remains of what was his heart ache in a hideous way.

“I know.” He felt a tear run down his left cheek, his hands on your arms.

At this time, the two of you supported each other. Gideon meant a lot to you two. An irreplaceable role in yours life. And Spencer knew that was what you were talking about when you said:

"He was the only thing we both had.” You closed your eyes, your hands still firmly on his coat, your heart pounding.

But this time Spencer's voice was just as broken when he said: “I know.”

Then he hugged you.He hugged you for everything. He hugged you because it was a pain that only you two could understand. He hugged you because you needed it, and because he needed too.

Jason Gideon had a special connection with you two, a connection that only the two of you had ever experienced. Each relationship with Gideon was different, special in different ways, but only the two of you had him as a protector, mentor, a much more paternal and confidant figure. He was the kind of person you could leave your life in his hands, the kind who would teach you the secret of the worlds, show you what goodness was and at the same time strength. And you two had that.

You stained Reid's coat with tears, and Reid stained you with the strong smell he had. He stepped far enough away to be able to see your face perfectly, at a considerable distance, and, against everything he had ever done before with anyone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes fixed on your in pain shared.

“We will catch how did it.” Reid assured you, as if he had tattooed this words on your skin. You closed your eyes in pain, but he brought you back “Hey, keep looking at me."

So you did it. Because you would always follow Spencer. To hell if he asked.

"Don't take your eyes off mine, okay?” His voice was so sweet, so gentle, and you couldn't have done anything but agree. “When was the last time you spoke to Gideon?”

“Yesterday.” You replied “We were going to travel to the beach today, I took a vacation from work.”

“Was he at home when you two talked?”

The team looked at each other, with several questions in those look.

You denied it, the hiccup now because of the shortness of breath you had because of the crying.

“He stopped at Roanoke for...” and that's when you seemed to remember something.

Your eyes widened softly, your lips trembled, and you let out a stammering sigh as you try to remember something very important.

“What do you remember?” Spencer stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to calm the beating of your heart that went back to being frantic and making you focus on the question, not the sea of emotions you felt.

“He…” was when your eyes fluttered before meeting Reid's again. “He said he saw a woman on the news who was found dead. And ... and that he had to make sure of one thing ”

Rossi looked at Hotch, who gave an attentive and objective expression.

“Did he tell you why?” His eyes closed again and you sobbed. Reid moved closer, bringing your face back in his direction again “Look at me, Y/n.”

As soon as you did, he gave you a gentle smile, but contained all the pain in the world. He understood what you were felling.

“Why was he interested in the case?” He changed the question.

“I-it was something about...” you searched in your mind “Girl named Tara. I don’t know. He mentioned about a blue butterfly tattoo on her ankle as well, and that it was something to do with a… a case or something.”

“1978” Rossi interrupted and everyone looked at him “Gideon and I worked on a case in 1978, the suspect was never caught and Tara was a teenager who we thought had been kidnapped by him. The killer left dead birds in the hands of the victims ”

“But he didn't mention birds and...” That's when your eyes, fluttering, darted around the room and you stopped abruptly.

Spencer turned his attention to you again, seeing that you were staring somewhere. His hands slowly left your face and he asked:

“What?”

“The board.” You pointed to your father's board, which had a beautiful brown bird.

“Does say anything to you?” Rossi turned his attention to you.

You shook your head, your body too exhausted to go to the painting and examine it.

“He shot the board.” You looked at the agents “My father loved that painting, he never would have done that. Even though my father is stunned, he has the best aim I have ever seen.”

“The devil is in the details." Rossi went to the pinting and, after two seconds, turned to the team and said “I already know who did this.”

You let out a gigantic sigh of relief as the agents split up to continue the case, speaking so fast that you couldn't keep up.

“I helped?” You looked at Spencer, tears still shining in your eyes.

He smiled and nodded “Very.”

But when he got up, you took his hand, making Reid turn his attention back to you again, a questioning look on his face.

“You're going to get it, aren't you?” The sob invaded your voice "Promise me that you will catch him, Spen."

Reid took his hand in your, giving you a strong, comforting squeeze before saying:

"I will. I promise.”

And then he left, along with the other agents.

- - -

You thought you knew what pain was, the loss, the tightness in the heart. You thought that your many relationship breakdowns showed you what it was like to suffer. But you have never been so wrong. None of that compared to how you were now, to what you felt.

You would trade that feeling for anything in the world.

This was terrible. A cold, coercive, brutal and cruel feeling. As if you were at the bottom of a black ocean, unable to breathe, falling deeper and deeper, consumed by the overwhelming cold of the water.

It was impossible to say in words how you felt. But if it were you had to define it in one word you would say: pain. A pain that bends you, a pain that makes you want to scream, that pierces your lungs so that it is not possible to breathe, but that even so, you fight for air.

It was pain at its rawest, most brutal, sharp and atrocious like a dagger blade. You would go through Dante's hells for eternity instead of living one day with that pain.

Since Spencer and the agents went after the person in charge, you have sat on the steps of the front door, watching the nature, the shaking of the trees, but your attention was so far, far away. Perhaps unattainable.

Gideon always loved watching the seasons go by, and in that moment, you wondered if looking at the same thing he looked at every day would make you feel close to him. Feel with him. It had only been three days since you last saw him, when he picked you up at the airport, but you felt like you were past three lives. How would you go without it? How were you able to think of living without it?

You pulled your knees up against your chest, hugging your legs, the metallic, atrocious and icy taste of devastation stuck to yours in your mouth. The trees shook hard, forcing the birds to fly away, but you didn't feel cold. You were not feeling the cold breeze hit your body, nor were your muscles contracting in exhaustion from the hard wood of the steps you were sitting on.

The hunger, the cold, the heat or the craving could not reach you, as if the pain had paralyzed all your system. Probably your soul.

You didn't see when Stephen put father's blanket over your shoulders, nor did you hear his sobs for seeing you so devastated. But you smelled Gideon, and the warmth of the blanket was like having his arms around you again. Then the rest of the water in your body found its way to your eyes and crying was as automatic as breathing.

You were clinging to Spencer taking the son of a bitch who did it, trying to chase away any other thoughts that weren't about that. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he was caught. Which meant his capture for you. It would bring justice to Gideon, honoring his name, his life, but it wouldn't bring him back. What was taken from you would not be repaired, regardless of the end of that damned man.

When he was caught, you would have nothing else to focus on instead.

You don't know how long you stayed there. Hours? Days? The those peach and gold tones in the sky is from dusk or the dawn of a new day?

You had lost track of time, as if your watch had stopped since the time Gideon died.

The sound of cars on the road was the only thing that pulled you out of your fucking valley, and as soon as the black SUVs stopped, you stood up as if you had been waiting your whole life for that moment. The blanket fell from your shoulders, heart accelerated at an alarming rate, and for a second, everything was gone from your mind.

Rossi was the first to get out of the car, but yours eyes darted to Reid. You wanted to run, ask what had happened, listen to the answers. But you were paralyzed in place. Afraid of the truth, of reality.

What would become of you after that news?

Spencer came towards you without hesitation, and you couldn't take your eyes off him for a second. He didn't say anything, nor did he explain anything. It was not needed. The way he reached out his hand and placed your father's rings in your palm were enough answers.

Your whole body shook and you looked at Reid with more emotions than askers.

"He is dead." He told you, and it made you fall down again.

But this time you fell into his hugging, clinging to him in despair. There were many meanings in that embrace: gratitude, relief, fear, pain and grief. And Spencer hugged you back in the same way.

You two stayed that way for a while, even when the agents went to talk to Stephen, even when Garcia and JJ left the house, even when the cold wind hit you both.

“Thanks." You heard yourself say it, and Spencer shook his head, signaling that it wasn't necessary, and the two of you moved away.

So you went to Rossi, and hugged him too. In that second, Rossi could feel Gideon in that hug, and it took a second to not cry.

“Your father was a great man." He told you when the two of you walked away, and you agreed on a sad smile.

"He was." You looked down at the rings in your hand, staying a second there before turning to the agents and saying: “You guys are going to the funeral, aren't you? I ... my dad would like it w-very much.”

"Of course." Rossi guaranteed it.

As they walked away and went back to the car, heading for their own houses, your eyes met Spencer's and he whispered in the air to you:

“I will see you at the funeral."

You nodded, giving you a sad, grateful smile. And while everyone was leaving and you were looking at the rings in your hand again, you had a feeling that your story with Spencer had just started over.

A/n: I also lost a very important person to death, and for everyone who went through it too, I mean that no one is alone! My message box is open if you need anything! Love you❤️

Tagged @gublersuvula

@peculiarinsomniac

@measure-in-pain

@nobutalsoyes

🍒 @misshale21

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