fantastical-feels - Tumblr blog

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And God's not actually going to wipe out all the locals.

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I talk like this was a hard decision who am i kidding

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*going to a festival that celebrates what has for a long time been considered sexual degeneracy by society* Oh boy I sure hope I don’t encounter anything that society views as sexually degenerate!

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Spire shenanigans

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so funny to me how augustine and mercymorn were like “don’t worry guys. we have a plan to distract god. just wait for the signal, you’ll know it when you see it.” and the signal was to just start having a threesome with god on the dinner table right in front of harrow and ianthe

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i think the funniest possible plot arc for alecto would be ianthe trying to arrange a threesome between herself and her two closest friends (harrow and kiriona), but she just ends up wingmanning them both really hard by accident (since nothing ever goes truly right for ianthe) and that's how griddlehark ends up happening

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Imagine Mercy meeting Nona and the conversation goes sth like this:

Mercy: How old are you child?

Nona: I am six months old. 😃

Mercy turning to Jod, pointing at Nona: See, I was right.

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You held aloft the sword, I still love y

Sort of happy with this, sort of not? I really enjoyed the composition and sketching part, but the shading feels off. Nonetheless, I wanted to have all three in one drawing!!

[ID : A digital drawing of Alecto, Nona and Harrow. The background is dark blue and shows the Earth, with the quote “You held aloft the sword, I still love y” around it. Alecto stands tall in the background, with long blonde hair reaching the ground. She’s dressed in a white Renaissance esque dress, with manacles on her wrists and her neck, chains connecting them. She is drawn to look very symmetrical and a little angry. In front of her, Nona is seated on her knees, looking back at the viewer over her shoulder. She has her black hair in two braids and wears a shirt and trousers on dark green shades. Harrow lies on her side in front of Nona, curled in on herself. Her black hair is as long as Nona‘s and kept open. Her skull paint is smeared, and she wears all black with her exoskeleton. In front of Harrow, waves flow gently towards the women. Harrow‘s hair is wetted by the water. /end ID]

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No, like. The line immediately after “crown him with many crowns” is “as saints before him fall”. Like yeah haha puns bc Corona means Crown and Corona’s new name is Crown. But specifically that line. Immediately followed! By the promise of saints kneeling before the crowned. but also ‘fall’ has connotations of a) love and b) death. Cainabeth and Abella…….

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i am just a tiny bit obsessed with this parallel tazmuir the woman that you are <3

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Renaming the locked tomb series The Acting Governor of Pluto And All Her Hoes

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Other tlt fans: talking about events of the third book, theories for AtN, making insanely talented fanart of all the new characters we've met, re-enacting The Unwanted Guest

Me, 3 years after reading HtN the first time, sipping black coffee and staring at my conspiracy board: but why did the Body tell Harrow to lie about her age to Mercymorn. Why did she need to lie about her age what was the purpose why di—

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Like. To Gideon, love is sacrificing yourself for someone else. It’s violence, especially violence enacted upon the self for another’s benefit. It is objectifying oneself, making your body a tool of another. Love is a baby having oxygen its mother doesn’t have. It’s the Ninth’s endless devotion to Harrow. It’s Jeannemary screaming for Isaac, even though he’s already dead and going back would only kill her. It’s Palamedes blowing up to kill Cyth. And that’s why she makes the choice she does, why she has to go nuclear. She can’t express love except as violence, as sacrifice. And then to have this sacrifice so universally rejected is to have her love rejected. She feels dumped.

But Harrow didn’t feel loved when Gideon did it. She felt alone, and vulnerable, her parents swinging for the greater good. Her house’s future destroyed, all to keep Alecto in her tomb, a tombkeeper necromancer of Anastasia’s line. The first flower of her house, dead, for Harrow, again, who has said that she can never be enough to justify it. Harrow feels too keenly the injustice to be able to accept that sacrifice. She can never justify what has happened, so her work must be to remedy it, however poorly. Thus, the puppets, the need to be a lyctor, and thus, the lobotomy. They’re all too-small measures, they don’t solve the wounds, but she must do something because she can’t bear the weight of the entirety of fucking Pluto on her shoulders.

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Thinking about how Ianthe must have built an adolescence on the secret conviction that if the Corona-necromancer charade was exposed and everybody found out how powerful and ingenious she was, they'd have to adore her just as much as her sister. Then she becomes a lyctor and the secret gets out but all the surviving House heirs just turn against her. Then she finds out that instead of celebrating her ascension her parents made her and Corona's birthday a national day of mourning. Then she makes it to God's own secret hideout but the older lyctors treat her like shit and God ignores her completely for Harrow. Then she seemingly gets God all to herself but he's too busy fucking and drinking his sorrows away to remember she exists. Then he gets his real daughter back from the dead and Ianthe's chances of ever becoming his specialiest favored child drop back to practically nil.

All before she finds out that the man she murdered for power is slowly cannibalizing her from the inside, destroying her own, sacrosanct, brilliant self, the one thing she thought she could hold on to forever.

Just…just thinking about it.