#but from Gideon’s pov it’s not a great look

[gideon-of-navareth]

I was thinking about this the normal amount and it occurred to me that there’s also contrast in how other people treat their bodies.

Pretty much everyone who’s come into possession or wardenship of Harrow’s body has treated it as something precious to be protected and nurtured. Keep her alive, sure, but also keep her thumbs on, keep her fed, keep her healthy, preserve her decency as much as possible, this is the blood and flesh of someone deeply loved and it must be taken care of.

Oh, but Gideon? Oh, but my poor perfect girl? Dead with dignity for maybe 24 hours tops. Then she became an unsettling lawn ornament left out in the elements. Then she became a scientific chew toy—dumped in the woods just to see if the animals would eat her, dunked in a river just to see if she’d decompose, dragged around and abused in a way that was “really upsetting until it was really funny.” A commodity that fell into the wrong hands. Brought back wrong on purpose to be a puppet and a weapon, never restored, permanently damaged, paraded around in Weekend at Bernie’s levels of corpse abuse. Even when people come to save her—is it so they can put her to rest? No. Is it so they can try and restore or revive her? Nope. It’s so they can use her blood before the enemy does. John made her indestructible sure, but he did it so no one could use her—effectively his—blood. Her body has always, always been little more than a tool and a weapon, and now it’s not even hers to use.

I’m Not Okay™ is what I’m saying.

Harrow got so unbelievablely horny dreaming about Gideon's rolled up sleeves exposing her lean, taut muscle, a little dewy with sweat and steam but you know what.... thinking about it. Gideon does not disrobe basically ever, except in private to bathe. A tantalizing glimpse of forearm may legitimately be the most Harrow's imagination has to work with

[the-hidden-posts-gt]

Sunny & Gideon (Part 1)

Borrower short story (turning into a series) based on a dream I had where the Giant and Tiny switch bodies (Part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Sidebar 1 | Part 4 (WIP)

Sunshine/Sunny (yeah that’s their name, it was sunny the day they were born and their mom was just like, “yeah, that makes sense, definitely!” 😅) is 5”/~13cm, average height by borrower standards. They have brown hair, with a tiny -not so tiny- patch, bleached slightly lighter than the rest of their hair (Gideon is messy with his hair dye/bleach, and somehow it always gets everywhere. Sunny was not spared.) They have hazel colored eyes, thick brown eyebrows, crooked nose, and an ovular face.

Gideon/G/Giddy(when Sunny wants to mess with him) is a 5’10”, kind of a lanky guy, with purple hair (he dyed it), and thin blonde/light-brown eyebrows. He doesn’t look well rest, ever. He has green-blue eyes, his nose is surprisingly button-shaped, (Idk why, but that’s the description that made itself available in my head) and his face is kinda diamond shaped. (Not sure if that is handsome, but he is supposed to be kind of handsome, just underslept.)

POV Sunny

When I opened my eyes, he wasn’t there. The dizziness had subsided, but where was he?! I needed to find him. He was too big to just vanish. He was human after all. I heard my pulse roar in my ears. Why is it so loud? My breaths were shallow, but also too much.

I heard a door open and close and I saw Gideon’s roommate. He could help. Fighting my instincts, I stood up from the couch. Why are my limbs so bulky? As he walked into the kitchenette I rushed over to him. My legs felt weighted and slow, and yet I surged forward.

“Where’s Gideon?!” My instincts urged me once more to hide from this Bean, but I needed Gideon. I needed to find him! I need to know he’s alright! Gideon had said his roommate was kind. I just hope Gideon was right.

“Dude,” the roommate smiled, far too nonchalant for an emergency. “How high are you right now?”

I blinked, taken aback. This was not the reaction I was expecting. What does that even mean? My surprise taking over instead of the panic, and I was able to really tale in my surroundings.

I am taller than him. I am taller than G’s roommate. I looked around, the room was smaller, everything was smaller than I remembered it. It was honestly claustrophobic, like the walls had squeezed in on me. Everything was … my size, I guess.

My eyes found their way back to my hands, only to realize, these aren’t my hands.

The roommate just smiled, taking a step towards me and patting my (is it mine?) elbow. “Oh yeah, you have fun with that,” he said as he guided me back to the couch where I’d been sitting. I let myself be lead, now staring at the arms attached to me, they were familiar, just … not mine.

As I was sitting down, the couch squeaked, no shrieked. I felt my pulse quicken, as the body’s instincts took over, and I was suddenly standing back up faster than I thought possible. I know that sound? No. This body knew that sound.

“You good, man?”

I didn’t respond. I just slowly picked up the pillow I’d almost crushed. I peered down at the couch, careful not to let the roommate see what I suspected was there, but that didn’t prepare me for seeing my own face staring back at me.

POV Gideon

Light blinded me, as the entire space shook, I had been unceremoniously tossed into a dark and stuffy prison, where there was a bunch of panicked mumbling, and then something had just attempted to crush me. Now there’s an earthquake. Great! I thought sarcastically, before I attempted to steady myself against the wall behind me, as I held up my hand trying to block out the light and possibly understand why my world was suddenly shaken.

Instead of usable answers, I saw a shock of purple hair, before realizing I was staring at a giant version of my face. It stared down at me with eyebrows raised high. I didn’t even know they could reach that part of my forehead.

There was no respite from the chaos, however, as I was hastily snatched up into giant hands. I rapidly went from free, to shooting into the air clasped surprisingly gently within giant hands the size of me, to between two cupped hands, like I’d been caught by a kid who wanted to show a critter to their friends.

“Ugh.” My stomach was not a fan of all this jostling.

“Sorry!” My voice whispered down at me, before we slowed down enough for me to get my barrings. This must be what Sunny feels like all the time. My heart stopped, before speeding up again, to twice the speed. Where is Sunny?! If When I get out of this, I need to find them. I just need to survive whatever giant me is up to.

***

Part 2

That’s it for now. I like these two enough that I’ll probably end up writing about them a lot, so idk stay tuned? 🤷

[litas-writings]

The more I think about it, the more I get mad over Charlotte's characterization in the Gemstone trilogy. Like she's being so awfull to Gwendolyn during all three books, she gets no redemption and the last thing we read about her in the books, is about her getting drunk on that birthday party and embarrassing herself to the point the whole school talks about her. I get how it's supposed to give some satisfaction to the reader, since she has been that miss perfect that treats Gwendolyn like shit from book one, but on the other hand it is so unfair for Charlotte. Yes, she is miss perfect, yes she has been horrible to Gwendolyn, but let's look at this from Charlotte's pov:

1) she was never able to have a real childhood, because everyone thought she was the Ruby. Meanwhile Gwendolyn gets to grow up in a cottage at first and then later in London, she has a great relationship with her siblings and her mom, she has a best friend who'd do everything for her and they always spend all their free time together watching movies. Charlotte only has her toxic mother who will never accept that her daughter is any less than perfect. She is supposed to be a time-traveler, but also a perfect student with perfect grades, she has to learn the piano, dancing, etc... she basically gets no free time! And when it's time for her to have her first time-jump, it gets taken away from her, because her COUSIN, who never had to suffer through anything she had to, is the actual ruby. So the ONE THING she prepared her whole life for and which she actually enjoyed, is taken from her. So yes, of course she is pissed. Of course she is jealous. Of course she treats Gwendolyn badly! She feels like her life lost all it's purpose. I would be pissed too!

2) not only is the time-travelling taken away from her, but also the only real friend she ever had: Gideon. Ofc she has no time for friends with her tight schedule, so the only person she can really consider her friend, is the one she spent most of her time with, and that is Gideon. And suddenly your cousin, who already has a way easier life than yourself, comes in and takes your only real friend away from you and even starts dating him. I don't know if Charlotte ever had romantic feelings for Gideon. Probably yes, but even if not, Gideon is still her closest friend and now she has to watch him spending most of his time with Gwendolyn.

So yes, she behaves badly, but I think her behaviour is justified. Because despite of how 'perfect' and grown-up she has to behave, she is still a sixteen year old girl in the middle of puberty which is already the not easiest time to go through, and now she has to deal with all this sudden change! Why couldn't she have gotten a good heartfelt conversation with Gideon at some point, where they talk things out and where she had a change of behaviour towards Gwendolyn? You can say what you want about the movies, but one positive point of them was Charlotte. I hated her in the first two movies (her actress played her arrogant behaviour towards Gwendolyn very well too) but her suddenly smashing those guardians with her Krav Maga skill in the third movie and thus helping Gwendolyn was an amazing scene! And then seeing the two cousins becoming closer over time warms my heart! Book Charlotte deserved a redemption arc too. She deserved better than this embarrassing end.

[shade-and-sun]

Jod doesn’t suck quite as much as we thought

So Jod deleted his friends’ memories when he revived them yeah? And most of them have rather funky names and were only referred to as “letter-“ in the John chapters.

I assumed, and it seems like everyone else assumed, that he replaced all their names without their knowledge when he resurrected them. Like an asshole.

But rereading Nona the Ninth I don’t think they forgot their old names

I initially thought that this dialogue was meant to just be Gideon’s first initial, or to seem cut off, but looking at the comma right after I don’t think that’s the intention.

I think Pyrrha knows Gideon Prime’s Earth name.

This raises a lot of questions

Now there’s the question of how she knows the old name and why John’s apostles all (presumably) got new names:

Does she happen to have access to Gideon’s Earth memories from hitching a ride in his brain for so long? Did all of them remember their initial names? Did the Jod Squad choose new ones as part of their post-Resurrection rise to power? Did they get new ones from John and then remember their old ones a while later?

There’s also the meta-narrative questions this raises, aka, Why The Hell is It Censored??

Ms. Muir gives great clues about pov through the word choices in narration (ORTUS). It makes sense that John’s chapters are censored, as his character would fucking do that.

But to use that same censoring in Nona’s chapters? I literally don’t even have any theories what the heck.

Tldr;

For some reason Pyrrha knows Gideon Prime’s Earth name and that has some implications

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 26

Do you ever write a chapter and just...hate it?

That was this chapter and I've been working and reworking it over and over again and this morning it finally clicked what I was missing and so I hope you enjoy this chapter more than I do, because I have beef with this chapter.

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 Content Warnings: unhealthy parent dynamics All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Altan POV

“So,” I began, trying my best not to fidget, “How do you find Berdusk?” 

The Lady Allara seemed to be a timid creature, we had been walking along the grounds for at least an hour and conversation was dreadfully, painfully slow. Some might be surprised to know that her conversation skills were inferior to that of orcs. 

“Oh, it’s quite nice.” She replied, blinking her wide eyes at me. She had an uncanny gaze that never strayed from my face. I could never tell if she was pleased when she looked at me, or simply frightened out of her mind, either way her wide, globulous eyes and her open mouth smile never was not on me.

There truly was no time to be amused by anything, but I couldn’t help but think that Drun would find her just as unsettling as I, and there was some warm comfort in that. Despite the distance and not knowing his condition, I still felt him near me. He was in my every waking thought and motivated every breath I took. He would return to me, that I was determined, and in the meantime I forced myself to believe that all was well and that what I was doing was enough.

I looked behind me and bit back the sigh I wanted to release when I locked eyes with the guards who followed us close behind. 

Earlier that day, Commander Gideon had only just left before those same guards  had returned with the servants to prepare me for the day. Since then, they had not left my sight, even within the privacy of my own room. It took much wailing and gnashing of teeth to convince them to let me bathe without one of them watching me. The absolute perverts.

“Do you miss Triel?” I asked Allara. “You’ve been gone almost a fortnight, is that correct?”

She shrugged, “I’m content to go where father takes me.”

Odd answer. I looked over at her again. Her expression was vacant of most any emotion. She didn’t look anywhere but me, in fact I don’t think she had looked out at the gardens once.

“My mother started this garden, you know.” I changed the subject. “She brought seeds from her homeland, isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes, quite.” She neither blinked nor looked away from me, not even once. 

I swallowed thickly. “My lady, is everything alright?”

“Perfectly.” She said, “And you?”

I narrowed my eyes while I looked back at the guards, “The same, I suppose.” I said vacantly. They wouldn’t give away anything. Even if they knew, they’re helmets concealed too much of their face to even help.

“How about some tea?” I asked. I needed to distract myself from her and a drink and something sweet to eat from the kitchen seemed like a good idea.

“Whatever you wish, my lord.” She said, “That sounds perfectly splendid.”

“Do you like tea?”

“Oh yes.” She bowed her head.

“Hmmm.” I nodded softly. I clasped my hands behind my back as I led her and the two guards behind us back into the interior of the Great Hall. I glanced back one last time to the gardens, appreciating the work that had been done to keep my mother’s plants alive. Someday, Drun would see it, I vowed.

The kitchens were pleasantly warm and quite busy when we entered. The head cook glanced up and nodded sagely when I walked in. They were used to my brothers and I coming in after our studies to enjoy a sweet treat with some tea. It was a safe space amongst so few of them and the cook was always kind even though I had never seen them speak a word in all my time knowing them.

They moved quickly to set two seats for myself and Allara to rest and then placed a setting for each of us to receive tea. A kettle was already beginning to boil.

“My lord, what a surprise!” I turned and gasped when I saw in the corner the large shadowy shape of a Dragonborn. How had I not seen them there? Doxxah was carrying a tray of baked goods, steam still rising from them.

“Doxxah! Wonderful to see you.” I said. I gestured for Lady Allara to take a seat, which she obliged with no objection. I stepped away, closer to my old friend.

“Likewise my lord, though a bit unexpected.” Doxxah gave a knowing stare. “Would you care to help me?”

I glanced at my fiance, who sat contentedly on her chair, her feet swinging slightly back and forth. From my distance it even seemed she had more of a natural smile on her face as she held her cup of tea. I turned back to Doxxah and nodded, “I would be honoured to help.”

 “How is the Lady Allara?” Doxxah’s voice was soft, not carrying above the sounds of the kitchen in use. We both glanced over at her, but the girl did not seem to notice the conversation being about her.

“Odd.” I said. “But not unkind.”

They nodded in acknowledgement. “And how is your paramour?”

“I do not know.” I answered. I glanced at the guards standing at the door. “I am…a bit stuck.”

They nodded. “Take heart, my lord, things will work out.” They placed a clawed hand upon my shoulder and winked. “You have many who are eager to see you happy.”

I bowed my head, “I know that, I am grateful.”

“There’s a but in there.” They said.

“But what if even after everything, my happiness can never be mine?”

“Hmmm, an honest question.” They reached for the last tray they had that had rows of steaming cinnamon rolls. I reached and pulled them from the tray and onto the serving plates on the table next to us. “Truly I am not the right person for this question, for I am ever the optimist. If you are not happy, my lord, then that is not your ending. Do not settle until then.”

“But what if he’s gone?” I breathed. I wasn’t certain if they could even hear me. To utter my greatest fear aloud, that Drunrag might be dead without my knowing, haunted me. I was suddenly shivering where I stood.

“Oh my young lord.” Doxxah lifted a plate with a roll on it and placed it into my hand. “Do not dwell on what we do not know. Take heart and in the meantime, warm your stomach with what is good. I have to be going, but I am always nearby.” They bared their teeth in a friendly, but also quite ferocious grin directed at the guards. They lifted their stack of trays and waved to the cook who was already working on a different dish before they made their way out of the kitchen.

I sighed. I supposed Doxxah was right. I had no way of knowing and thinking about it so obsessively made no difference. I needed to follow through on my plan. 

If I’m not happy, then it’s not the end. Not yet.

Lady Allara didn’t react as if I had even stepped away when I sidled into the seat next to her and placed a plate with her own cinnamon roll in front of her. “For you.” I said. 

Her eyes locked onto me, a sudden passing expression of fear on her gaze. “You are very kind.” She said, her voice was lower than normal, more mellow and somber. “I’m sorry.” she whispered.

“Sorry?” I asked. “Whatever for?”

She looked down into the bottom of her cup. “Our parents aren’t very honest people, are they?”

I drew my hands back from the table and onto my lap. “Allara, is there something you know that I don’t?”

Her hands were shaking and she couldn’t meet my eyes. 

“Whatever you can do, don’t play their game.” She finally met my gaze. There was hate and rage in those eyes, her demure appearance shed away to reveal a creature filled with spite and revenge.  “My father and your father…they each hold each other in a chokehold of secrets. There would be no reason for a wedding if those secrets were conveniently revealed.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How might one go about that?” 

The doors suddenly burst open and I jumped, I spun in my seat and looked down at my uneaten pastry.

“There you are!” The Duke of Triel exclaimed, my father just at his heels. “We thought you two would be in the garden. We had to search all over to find you.” His voice was jovial, but when I spared a stare I caught a sharpness in his stare as he closed the distance between himself and his daughter.

“I should have known you’d show her your favourite haunts, son.” My father smirked, but it was not a kind one. “But at this hour? It is only an hour before suppertime.”

“My daughter tends to have an upset stomach if she’s consumed too many sweets before a meal. She’s probably got some shaking in her. Ah yes, there it is. Come my love.” The Duke of Triel spoke quickly as he ushered towards the young woman and pulled her away from her seat. I watched as her eyes met mine. There was nothing vacant or uncanny in them. They were alert and locked onto me and then, the duke’s hands were on her and she was dragged away and soon out of my sight.

Did they truly think I was an idiot to not see what was happening here? I looked over to my father, glaring.

“Any particular reason you’re so displeased with me today, son?” He asked dryly, “Or is it the same as usual?”

“What are you doing to her?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” My father asked. All innocence in his tone. 

I rose to my feet. “You’re both up to something, and we’re being used as your pawns. I won’t accept such dishonesty, especially from you. It’s time we stop following in the steps of our forefathers. Look where it got you. Where it got our whole family. If I am to take your place as Duke, I will set the precedent now that this will not continue.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure what you’re seeing that’s making you so upset, son. I expect a bit more congenial attitude at supper. And you better be dressed.” Was my father’s only response before he turned and walked out.

I slumped back into my chair and looked down at my tea and cinnamon roll, both still warm. I took a bite and felt the hot buttery bread soften and melt in my mouth, cinnamon pervading any other flavor. I suddenly felt hot tears on my face. 

“Drun.” I said under my breath, burying my face into my hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing without you.”

I should have hurried back to my quarters to dress for supper, but I held back for as long as I could. I savored each bite of the pastry, and then slowly sucking the icing and cinnamon off of my fingers. I imagined another world where Drunrag was sitting next to me, sitting on his hands as he expectantly watched me try something Doxxah taught him how to bake. I showered him with praises and let him lick the sugar on my lips before kissing me deeply. 

My stomach twisted at the sight of it all. If only it could be so blissful. More tears spilled over.

“Brother.” 

I raised my head and Selhar had taken Allara’s empty seat. His eyes were wide with concern. 

“I’m fine.” I said, “Just thinking too much.” I sat up straight and wiped my hands clean. “Will you be at supper?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just for you and Allara and the Duke. Father insisted on privacy.” He dropped his bottom lip. “Whose pastry is this?” He suddenly asked, a touch of his young childhood whine snuck into his voice as he looked down at the roll before him.

“Yours, if you want it.” I sniffed and wiped my nose. “Lady Allara was meant to eat it, but she had somewhere else to be.”

“But I think this might be yours.” He said, sliding out a small slip of paper from beneath the plate. In small, loopy script was written, “Altan.”

Selhar kept an eye on me as I unfolded the slip, but his mouth was already full of the warm roll. 

Altan,

I don’t know if I will ever have the presence of mind to give this to you, but you must know the truth from my side. You and I are victims of dishonorable men who happen to be our fathers. Neither of us want this marriage, I’m aware. So let us help one another. 

My father, the Duke of Triel, is the father of at least five illegitimate children. There may be more. I have in here included the names of those I was able to track down. Since my father discovered my knowledge of them, he has kept me drugged so that I will not reveal his secret. But you may be able to do something with this information.

Lastly, even when I am under the influence of the herbs my father forces on me, I am still aware of many things. I’ve heard our fathers speak about the underground guild known as the Red Hunters. I have always understood them to be a neutral force that is swayed by whatever is the stronger power. At this time, the Red Hunters and your father’s partnership is built upon a common enemy: the orcs that reside in the Fields of the Dead. The Red Hunters are promised a share of those lands after the orcs have been cleansed and your father intends to use the rest to expand the Trade routes that exist beyond Triel and Berdusk. Perhaps a bargain can be struck if you can offer something greater.

Should we both remain in the chains our fathers built for us, please know that I will not hold any ill will towards you.

Yours, 

Allara

I passed the note to Selhar and rose to my feet. “See if you can get this to who it needs to. I have to go.” I reached for his head and tussled it lightly. I didn’t dare say anything else with the present company, but I met his stare and we each shared a nervous smile. “And take a sweet to Robin. He’d like that.”

Things would be alright, I thought to myself, I still had my brothers to look after. Drunrag haunted my every thought, but I had to be realistic. My brothers were just as important and I would not abandon them.

The dining hall was vacant of any guests except for myself, Allara, The Duke of Triel and my own father, the Duke of Berdusk. It was a small, intimate dinner arrangement that only took up one end of a very elongated table. I wished that Selhar and Robin could be there, if only to distract me from the uncomfortable stare I would get from the three other guests.

Allara’s expression had returned to its vacant, empty stare and she answered everything with the same politeness and poise that I was familiar with. I searched for some sign of that trembling, human girl beneath, but whatever the Duke had done to her had suppressed her completely. I eyed the Duke cautiously as he sat across and to the right of me.

In a rare act of humbleness, my father had left the head of the table vacant to sit next to me on my right and across from the Duke of Triel. It certainly gave the appearance of two happy families preparing for a joyous wedding amongst friends.

It was just so far from that when we all knew that Allara and I were being used as toys in a game that we never were explained the rules to. And one of us wasn’t even given the presence of mind to fight back.

The food in front of me was decadent and elaborate, I envisioned the cook when I had seen them earlier that day, bustling from one end of the kitchen to the other. It was a wonder they managed to make it all on their own. But the passing thought that I kept coming to was fear that maybe if I took a bite, I too, would end up just like Allara, caught in a web that put me exactly where my father wanted me to be. Compliant, pleasant, obedient to his every desire.

“Something the matter?” My father asked under his breath. 

I looked over to him, blinking.

“You haven’t taken a single bite.”

Certainly words like that ease one’s worries when they believe they’re about to be poisoned. I felt my stomach as it twisted and I took a spoonful up to my lips and prayed silently to the gods that I would somehow be spared. Oh gods, spare me.

I waited for the inevitable to happen as I slowly chewed and swallowed the warm food. My father didn’t glance over in my direction as I held my breath and waited.

Nothing happened, thank gods.

“So, Altan.” The Duke Triel asked. “Your father and I took some time to discuss wedding dates. We believe sooner is better than later. What with kidnappings and other dangers about, we believe it’s best to heighten security and quicken the pace.”

“Is this something that can be negotiated?” I asked.

I felt a harsh boot jam into my foot below the table. I didn’t flinch or look away from the Duke of Triel.

“Well…is there a reason you would like to wait?” He asked.

“Oh yes, you see. I don’t think marrying so quickly is a competent choice on either of your parts. If such dangers are causing risk to myself and my betrothed, then such dangers also exist for our people. Until we can assure competent security and my kidnapper is brought before me, the wedding will not happen.”

“Son.” My father’s voice was tightlipped and forced. “This is not the time nor place.”

“Is it not?” I asked. “I was under the impression that you expected me to become the next Duke, what with all of those council meetings I was forced to attend. Should I not be thinking about the greater good for our people, and yours?” I nodded to the Triels. “I doubt a single council member would disagree that safety is our upmost priority, not secrecy. The people will want to celebrate this wedding, and I will have that for them, especially after so many years they’ve spent grieving the loss of our Duchess. But if you had wished me to be submissive as before, perhaps you should have expressed your intentions differently.”

Neither Duke spoke, which let me continue, “And seeing how between myself and Alarra, I seem to be the only cognizant one present in a conversation, I suppose the decision is left up to me, isn’t it my betrothed?” I asked sweetly. 

“Whatever you wish, my lord.” She responded with her saccharine tongue. “I am happy to be by your side.”

I grinned. “See?”

“She has not been well, my lord.” Her father replied.

“That’s apparent.” I sniffed with contempt. “I promise the both of you, that whatever secrets you have hidden so deep beneath your fine coats and thick necks, I will expose the both of you, unless you promise me my kidnapper returned to me alive.”

“An empty threat son.” My father said, “End the theatrics now.”

I turned sharply to face him. “Is it? You don’t know what I know. Two can play this game father, and you were such a good teacher.” I said, my grin widening. I rose to my feet. “But the game will end and when it does, I hope your names are sent straight to the nine hells.”

I didn’t wait to be excused, nor did I look back to see their faces.  Half of the battle was convincing them that I was worth being feared, intimidated by and carrying the confidence to not care what they thought. 

I stepped out into the hall and let out a deep breath. I predicted that things would likely get worse before they got better, but I was determined to see this through.

I was followed back to my chambers with an extra guard in tow. I glanced back at them and winked before stepping into my room and hearing one of them following in behind me. 

I was surprised to find Robin asleep on my bed. His face had sticky bits of frosting on his cheek. He looked peaceful. I let out a sigh. There would be no rest for me, not yet.

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[eurydicees]

in need of fanfic/book recs from ya <3

ooooooh okay idk what genre of book or fandom/ship fic you want so here are my general recent favorites! i'm not gonna give a summary, just a small note/review with my thoughts, so ur gonna have to google the books and click the ao3 links--my apologies but this post was getting way too long lmfao

real life books!

gideon the ninth / the locked tomb series by tamsyn muir: i'm really working my way through this series and i loooooove it. the characters make me crazy and every turn in the plot has me screaming a little. there's been a lot of deranged texts to irls about this one.

under the whispering door by t.j. klune: this book DID make me cry. it's a really well woven story about love for your family and your friends and death and finding satisfaction and fulfillment in life (and death) and moving forward. HIGHLY recommend his other book (the house on the cerulean sea) as well!! i read that one first and it's a really gorgeous, satsifying read.

the shell collector by anthony doerr: this is a short story collection technically but i loooooove it. each story individually is really beautifully done and i absolutely LOVE his writing style. i think i take a lot of inspiration from him for my own writing!

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong: top books that, like, make yourself feel seen. another author/poet that i feel i can attribute a lot of inspiration for my style and love of words to in general.

sharks in the rivers by ada limón: poetry collection! but one of my all time favorite poetry collections and i can't let this go unnamed. i absolutely ADORE ada limón (you may know her from "the great blue heron of dunbar road" or "instructions on not giving up", which floats around tumblr pretty regularly). i think i first read this collection for class but it genuinely changed something in me. i actually have a tattoo based on these poems <3

post-colonial love poem by natalie diaz: another poetry collection but this one, like, fucked me up. it's woven together as a collection in an absolutely breathtaking way, but each poem also stands alone really beautifully.

fics - haikyuu!!

a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam by swampdragons (iwaoi, 6911 words): i read this a bit ago and really loved it, though it was also really emotionally difficult for me to personally get through--one of those fics that really drives the emotions home so deeply that it hurts to keep going. part of that might just be my own personal connection to the topic. idk. but either way it's ABSOLUTELY worth it.

The Benefits of Patience by Moami (iwaoi, 3363 words): this one's silly and funny and so much more lighthearted than the prev rec lmfao. it's like. healthy but messy but established but not established but a real relationship but an almost relationship to be iwaoi <3333

The Way He Looks At You by roobtheboob (iwaoi, 3805 words): i think i read too much iwaoi. but this one's really cute i PROMISE. i like the kyoutani POV idea a lot and i think the way kyoutani is written overall is really well done, particularly in the team dynamic and his respect for iwaizumi.

The years shall run like rabbits by ladyoflalaland (ushiten, 7292 words): obsessed w this fic. ushijima's mother is written out to be a REALLY interesting character and her strained relationship with ushijima is fascinating. the passage of time of it all......man.

fics - other fandoms

"Normal" by OnigiriCat4Ever (fruits basket, kyohru, 7140 words): this one's a really cute post-canon character study of sorts and i really love it. i love how the 7yo hajime is written and his relationship with kyo is really sweet.

The act of loving in return by kindokja (bllk, ryusae, 2809 words): this one's both funny and heartwrenching and sweet and painful all at once. beautiful, necessary mix in a fic. i like it a lot.

turn your face (towards the sun) by youareoldfatherwilliam (atla, gen, 5813 words): im normal about fics abt the chit sang and the 41st, in case u were curious!

that's all i got for now? i literally just went through my most recent bookmarks and cherry picked some special highlights lol. feel free to let me know if you want anything more specific!!!!! u already know i loooooove giving recommendations<3

[c-m-stuff]

Legend

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are together. When fate interfered, you both bumped into someone special.

-Warnings: Fluffiness

-Word count: 822

-Note: Just bumping into a legend. Hope you enjoy! If you want to be on my taglist, you can join it here.

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

I was almost done cooking, as Spencer finished setting the table. Today was the day. The day that the famous Jason Gideon came over to eat dinner with us. I was beyond excited and nervous at the same time.

It all happened only a week ago, when Spencer and I, by pure coincidence ran into Jason at the supermarket.

_________________________

Flashback:

'Gideon?' Spencer called him, as the man turned around.

'Reid?' he asked, smiling, and with eyes of disbelief.

Spencer nodded, as they shared a hug. Yes, there was a little tension and I knew why. I never had met Jason, since I joined the team later, but Spencer had told me all about him. About how he was a father figure for him, and how he suddenly left, leaving a letter behind. Besides that, I was happy, I could finally meet the famous Jason Gideon and he was doing alright.

'And, who is this?' Jason asked, giving a look at me.

'This is SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She works also for the BAU, and she's my girlfriend.' Spencer introduced me, as I shook Jason's hand.

'It's nice to meet you. I'm Jason Gideon.'

'It's nice to meet you, too. I've heard lots about you. You're kind of a legend.' I admitted, as we both smiled.

'If-If you want you can eat next week dinner with us.' Spencer said, a little nervous, as he looked at me for confirmation. I nodded.

'Yeah, of course! You're welcome.'

'I would love to.' Jason spoke, smiling at the invitation.

Flashback over

_________________________

That only happened a week ago and now I just finished dinner. I placed it on the gorgeous set table, as I felt suddenly two hands around my waist.

'That smells great, love.' Spencer complimented me, as a small smile appears on my face.

'I'm glad. I just hope everything is going to be alright.' I admitted and felt myself getting more nervous.

'Everything is going to be perfect. I'll be the whole time with you, (Y/N). And if something's wrong, just squeeze my hand.' he tried to calm me down, which worked.

'Okay, thank you.' I gave him a soft kiss on his lips, as the doorbell rings.

Just on time.

I quickly took a deep breath, as we both walked to the door and opened it. There stood he, a champagne bottle in his hands.

'Welcome!' I let him inside, as he greeted us, happily.

Since, it was time to eat, we all walked straight towards the table, taking a seat.

'It's really nice to see you again, Reid. And, of course, you too,

(Y/N).' he admitted, as we both smiled and nodded.

'So, why don't you tell me a little about you two. How long are you together?' he asked, as he took another bite of the meal.

'Well, we're together for 6 months and 15 days. And before that, (Y/N) and I, were best friends for a year and a half.' Spencer spoke the exact numbers, making me blush.

'That's great. And did you two met at the BAU?'

'Yeah, on my first day of work, I had to work with him on victimology. And Spence reassured me very much, when I was really nervous.' Spencer glanced at me, with a soft smile. So, did Jason.

'That's really sweet. And how is the team doing? And Hotch?'

'Good, good. We're all pretty close and are best friends. And Hotch is doing fine. And so is his son, Jack. He's a great boss.' I replied.

'He learned from the best.' Spencer added, making us chuckle.

'I'm really glad to hear that. I think often about the past. Those years, working at the BAU, were just wonderful. And I own you an apology, Reid. I know, I left in the time and wrote you a letter. Everything I wrote was true. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I left without saying anything.' he apologized, surprising us both.

It was a while ago, since Jason left the team. And only later, after David, I joined the team as last. I only known Jason, because of the many stories I've heard. And I'm really glad, he apologized. I'm really happy for Spence.

'Thank you for your apology. I appreciate it.' Spencer said, happily. I knew, he was happy to see Jason again. And him apologizing, only made it better.

'You two really fit together. I'm happy you found each other.' we both smiled, as Spencer pressed a kiss on my cheek.

The rest of the evening, we spent with lots of talking, bringing back memories from the past, and laughing. It couldn't be better.

_________________________

[liesmyth]

Hmmm I always thought that Gideon was absolutely perfectly in sync with the beauty standards of the Houses, judging from both how people react to her (the twins and Corona) and how she perceives herself (come on, she should be gorgeous, otherwise she wouldn’t think that she is hot, with her childhood it’s impossible).

Sorry I was too asleep to post this last night but I assume it was in reply to this post

Her childhood was spent on the Ninth though! Like, she WAS 100% unquestionably the hottest person around. Mostly everyone else was geriatric. I do think Gideon is hot but like, the reason SHE thinks she's hot shit is imo because of her body, which she worked hard for vs. her facial features - she has acne and wears face paint, so. We're told later on that Gideon makes a very good looking corpse, and she's a dead ringer for Wake who even Mercy calls hot, but I think the reason she feels herself is because of her ripped arms.

BTW this is why weightlifting is GREAT for your self esteem.

This sent me down A LONG thought spiral about what even are beauty standards in the Houses, anyway. I initially tag ranted but actually here it is:

#Because we truly don't know! #our POV characters are massive lesbians #and I would say Gideon is the only one who's actually in touch with what she considers attraction #AND she's spent all her life on the Ninth so she's bound to find everyone she meets hot

#I think THE idea standard is a general appreciation of symmetrical facial features and/or stunning standout features #just bc that's a constant of what humans find hot across civilisations

#but we also have the 'frail necromancer build' that's apparently hot enough that people write romance novels about it #and then there's an attraction to strong muscled bodies #(why Judith thinks Corona must be into Camilla)

#ofc we know that Coronabeth is the hottest person in every room she walks in #but we actually don't get that many close descriptions of her surprisingly! #she has hair like spun gold. is tall. has tits and amazing eyes. but there's a huge variety in how Corona's body is depicted in fanart #and a case could be made that the reason why everyone is so drawn to her is that she's so charismatic #or that Ianthe shaped her features with flesh magic etc. #so we don't actually get a good idea of what even are these beauty standards! #(and they probably change in every House) #which is pretty neat #TO ME

[scalierpepper]

Hi, have you ever heard the song

"Lady jesus" by Upsahl

At the peak of my locked tomb brain rot I always saw Gidoen/Kiriona for some of the lyrics

I'd love to hear your feedback or possible vision of it

oh, this is fun. hadn't heard this song before but I agree, it has some good Gideon/Kiriona lyrics. I am assuming you're approaching this with an animatic in mind? If you're not then I do apologize, but that's what I'm imagining so I'm gonna ramble about that and I hope it's still helpful lol.

I think the first step for turning something like this into an animatic (or lyric comic or whatever else you want to do) is to think about what message you want in the art. How complex is the story you are presenting? Are you diving into Muir's themes and messages? Or is your intent to make something that looks cool to show off a character and their personality? etc.

For example, one way I could imagine a "Lady Jesus" animatic as a semi-chronological Gideon >> Kiriona transition narrative, maybe told in a bit of a "you're probably wondering how I got here" sort of way. But there's plenty of possibilities besides that. You could focus on the triumph OR the tragedy. Like if you want Gideon to look really cheeky and badass then the vibe of the music supports that, and you can make it all glasses and swords and biceps and chussy out etc. Or if you want some angst, then it still totally works as a representation of the facade Gideon/Kiriona puts on at different moments of the books. You could even pull from BOE stuff...or you can focus way more on the Lady Jesus part of Gideon sacrificing herself for Harrow and even bring in GideonHarrowBod from htn. You can take the lyrics and compose your imagery to make it like the story is from Kiriona's pov and she's relating it directly to an audience, or you can use the music as a sort of parallel/relevant backdrop to whatever the visuals are, and so on. It really depends what you are interested/inspired to do.

I see a strong case for a sort of satirical narrative of how much Jod sucks told through the pov of Kiriona so if I were adapting the song that's probably what I would go for.

I think one of the first "look at me now" lines could be like Kiriona all tower-princed up, but then a later one is one of the scenes from ntn where she's absolutely miserable (killing Crux, in the truck watching Paul's birth, etc.) Same with "she's back, she's bad". Take advantage of the double meaning of words and use it for devastation :)

First verse works great for establishing Gideon's death. You can use "crying every night/sacrificed her to sleep" for sooo many scenes tbh. Add Harrow into the scene and do something angsty, or maybe it's just focused on Gideon's frustration in Drearburh compared to how Kiriona has achieved what she wanted (joining the cohort, knows who her parents are, etc.) but it sucks. Or maybe it's just saddest girl in the whole entire world getting her own moment.

"It's the second coming...middle finger to the sky" following can be a Kiriona intro also, either scenes directly from the text or a bit of headcannon supported by what Kiriona tells the other characters she's been up to. Just like a "oh hey i'm gideon 2.0" sort of thing.

"She's speeding down the 5 cause she already died" is another place that any sort of death or ressurection imagery (literal or metaphorical) pairs with nicely

"She got em kneeling like" - depending on what angle of story you're going for this could be like Harrow kneeling next to Gideon's body or it could be Kiriona Gaia and Ianthe Naberius doing tower prince shit (maybe next to Jod, perhaps in a room with "worshipful subjects". Or more brutally: on a battlefield surrounded by dead...herald beasts or otherwise. Gotta double check the text on that. Or just like. on the New Rho broadcast or sthng)

The bridge bit with "we all know God was a baddie but so was Jesus" would be perfect for some sort of 'Gideon's parentage' scene imo. Add Wake in there somewhere for me <3.

If you want to add some complexity to Kiriona's tragedy you could insert a Jod backstory moment at "Rose from the coffin, now I'm a prophet...blessed if I broke your heart."

Idk I have lots of little ideas coming to mind but it really really depends on what your end goal is! I also would like. Read through excerpts of the books and stuff because I'm operating completely by memory for this rn lol. Usually when I start art projects I do a massive brainstorm and make a ton of notes and thumbnails of all my ideas and then pick from the best and most cohesive ones. I also like to try and pull from my experience (of reading the books or whatnot) to inspire compositions and mood. For example I know when Kiriona showed up in ntn there was this huge shock of "woah, Gideon got so mean." And ofc as you read you understand WHY, and maybe that she's always been a little bit like that, but point is I think that attitude that Kiriona displays would be something I would personally pull from as inspo.

In conclusion: sans spending the time to storyboard something this is what comes to mind and how I would approach refining any ideas. Hope it helps a bit!

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 48 of Harrow the Ninth

Ahh, I've missed Gideon POV

At first I thought that the double douchebag comment was about Lyctorhood in general, but then I remembered that Gideon was totally 100% for getting eaten by Harrow. I guess Ianthe is just a double douchebag because Gideon considered both Ianthe and Naberius douchebags, so now they are a double douchebag

Oh Gideon, wanting to kick Crux down the stairs 100% makes you awesome

(Actually, reading it again, I'm not sure if she means "fantasizing about kicking Crux down the stairs doesn't reflect well on me because kicking people down the stairs is bad" or if she means "the fact that I never kicked Crux down the stairs doesn't reflect well on me because I never did it")

But don't worry, Harrow thinks you're great regardless

So like, to what exact degree have the second-person parts of this book actually been through Gideon's perceptions? Or are they Gideon's experience filtered through Harrow's perceptions? Like, if Harrow hallucinated something that was not there, would Gideon have seen and reported it? Earlier Gideon said that she couldn't actually see out of Harrow's eyes during that part, so maybe she was just getting second-hand information from what Harrow saw, or thought she saw, and reporting on it? If seeing Cytherea's body was a hallucination, it does make sense that Gideon wouldn't question it, since she's not used to questioning the things she sees. But, maybe Gideon was actually perceiving stuff herself, somehow, and everything that Harrow reported actually happened, including Cytherea's body under the bed, and Ianthe telling her that stuff didn't happen was just gaslighting? Now I'm not sure anymore

I love everything about this

Oh god, this isn't just a tumblr meme, it's actually a quote from the book

So Mercy ducked out to go kill Harrow, and just never came back, and Harrow left for obvious reasons, and then Augustine left for currently unknown reasons, and then Ianthe abandoned Gideon the First because she's just like that. I hope Gideon the First doesn't die because of this, I've sort of settled on him being maybe the only good Lyctor at this point

So he also came to whatever conclusion Mercy came to based on Gideon's eyes, in a lot less time, and it has something to do with John, and he's also had some thought about Mercy, so maybe he knew she was ducking out to go kill Harrow. Ok. I still don't know what the significance of this is. You know, it is kind of funny how much of this plot is hinging on people's eye colors, because I can't actually tell people's eye color in real life, like I feel at this point that Gideon's eyes must be like broadcasting the bat signal or something for everyone to be reacting to them this quickly. Like, I can see if eyes are light or dark, but are the light eyes blue, or grey, or green? I have zero idea. I don't think I could actually tell unless I went up to someone and stared at them from three inches away, or something. And while I was googling for pictures of what amber eyes actually look like in reality, I remembered that I don't even really know my own eye color, either. I was always told it was hazel, and that's what it says on my driver's license, but then when I joined the Sims 2 fandom like 15 years ago and downloaded some custom hazel eyes thinking I was going to go make some sims with my eye color, those eyes were a completely different color than my eyes, and I learned that by "hazel" people usually mean the kind of eyes that are like partially brown and partially green, whereas my eyes are definitely a single solid color all the way through and if I actually look at the wikipedia page on eye color, they do look most similar to the picture for the amber eyes. But then wikipedia also says this:

which is a pretty good description of my eye color, and I think also a good description of the picture on the wikipedia page for amber eyes. So I've got no idea, honestly. By the way, I can't find any other source online for this statement about hazel sometimes meaning hazelnut-colored, every site I can find seems to use the brown-mixed-with-green definition. The four sources in that image are not about language use with respect to eye color descriptions, or about eye color genetics, they're just miscellaneous eye studies in which eye color was a variable and all four of them divide all possible human eye colors into one of three categories: blue/grey, green/hazel, and brown. I can't read the full articles, but for all I know these references are just meant to mean "some scientists classify eye color this way for simplicity's sake". There's one person on the talk page of the wikipedia article claiming that the definition of hazel = hazelnut-colored is the main one and the brown + green definition is specious, but they seem to be contradicted by the entire internet. So what is hazel? What is amber? What are Gideon's eyes supposed to look like? What color are my eyes? I don't know. I don't know the answers to any of those questions

I am living for the Ianthe/Gideon banter

I appreciate Gideon for this more detailed description of the Cyrus and Valancy nude art that Harrow could not bring herself to give us

Did Gideon get "so many" letters from Harrow? The only ones I remember from Gideon the Ninth were the various snippy notes that Harrow left her after she went to go adventuring in the facility, and after the siphoning challenge, but I'm not sure that qualifies as "so many". Did Harrow write letters to Gideon before they came to Canaan House?

I have to wonder under what circumstances Harrow thought Ianthe might run into Gideon that she gave her this letter. Did she expect this exact thing to happen? I got the feeling at the beginning that she had some other ultimate plan in mind for Gideon besides her sharing Harrow's body. Also, didn't Harrow work very very hard to not achieve One Flesh One End with Gideon?

And of course, the sunglasses will hide Gideon's eyes, for when she goes to talk to John. I would have thought this was part of Harrow's plan, except I'm also like 100% sure that Harrow also has no more idea about what Gideon's eye color means than Ianthe does

No comment

Gideon just cannot resist the that's what she said joke even while clearly having some Big Feelings

I feel like Ianthe thinks she's in a completely different genre of book. She wants to be this clever, aristocratic lady in a fantasy of manners that's full of intrigue and backstabbing and then she falls in love with some dude (or some woman, maybe) and has to keep that from unraveling all of her plans, but instead she's in this gross body horror story where love isn't keeping a lock of someone's hair, it's giving yourself DIY brain surgery in order to prevent the destruction of their immortal soul after they died. I think she does know why Harrow did what she did, though, I think she said so herself in that one chapter we got that was from her POV. She's just trying to stir shit here. But more fool her, I'm pretty sure Gideon already thinks that Harrow removed her memories of her because she hated her, I don't think there's any way that Ianthe could hurt Gideon here that Gideon hasn't already done to herself

I feel like Harrow and Gideon came away with very different impressions of what exactly went down during the Pool Scene

I'm still not entirely sure how right Gideon is about this and how much of it really was just Ianthe trying to use Harrow. And I think it's hilarious that she immediately comes back to "she was a hypocrite for getting upset about the necrophilia"

Is there going to be any love confession in this story that is not completely fucked up?

This is obviously supposed to be some sort of joke, and it was mentioned repeatedly in that "what's the worst joke" poll, but I don't get it at all

[haee-elia]

1x02 - compulsion

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (2nd POV)

summary: in which a religious studies graduate student aids the BAU team in solving their arson killer problem AND gains a crush on Dr. Spencer Reid; FLUFFY AND CHEESY

warnings: mentions of fire, death, murder, religion, bombs, having a father? nothing too graphic or descriptive

word count: 3078 (double the last one, lol?)

a/n: i’ve been so overwhelmed with the support on the series that i’ve been so excited to write (which i say in a three-four year dryspell of fanfic writing) so here’s compulsion! i’m much happier with this one than the previous one and it’s a tad longer as well. enjoy. season one masterlist here 

also, i wrote half of this and then realized greenaway is spelled away and eway, so if you see a misspelling of her name, that's what it is. I also assume it is just gonna get harder and harder to avoid the use of y/n...

You followed the Dean of students, Ellen Turner, down the hallway towards a part of the college that you didn’t frequent often. As a religious studies graduate student, you didn’t often spend your time in the administration building other than to visit your department advisor who had a small office in the building. Even then, it was on the other side of the building.

You didn’t dare say a word until Dean Turner knocked on a door to what you thought was an unused conference room and a man opened the door. A man that you did not recognize, not that you knew every face on campus, but still.

The man was older, perhaps your father’s age, and was wearing a simple shirt tucked into plain pants. He was wearing some reading glasses and didn’t have much hair on his head.

He glanced at you before looking back at Dean Turner, “Is this your religious studies expert?” He asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked to your superior, awaiting an answer.

“She’s a religious studies graduate student. Her undergrad was a double major in Religious Studies and Psychology with a minor in Hebrew Studies.” Dean Turner explained.

The door the man held ajar had now craned more open, allowing you to see inside the room more. Instead of being the abandoned conference room you expected, it was filled with boxes of files, many whiteboards, corkboards, and chalkboards filled with photos and random joted down notes.

It had taken longer than you had wanted it to, but you finally realized this was the special FBI team that had been called in to investigate the random fires that had happened on campus. A few random fires, a fire that happened in a student’s dorm, and most recently, to a professor while in his office.

A new man poked his head into the conversation from the inside of the conference room. He was wearing a plaid checkered shirt that looked one or two sizes too big for him to wear with a red and gold tie loosely around his shirt collar. Pinned onto the pocket of his shirt was a clip on ID showing that he was FBI. His hair was pushed back behind his ears and cutely, you might add, curled around the bottom of his ears.

“What about the Head of the Religious Studies Department?” He asked. His voice was higher-pitched than you had expected it to be and had a lilt to it which you admired silently.

This time you decided to speak up, “He’s off on sabbatical.” All eyes turn to be on you, “Decided to travel around Asia.”

Dean Turner then turns to introduce you, “This is the FBI team called in for the investigation for the fires. This is Agent Gideon and this is Agent Reid.”

Agent Gideon interjects, “Dr. Reid.”

“Dr. Reid,” Dean Turner corrects.

“Double major and a minor in Hebrew Studies?” Gideon questions you.

You nod, “Yes, sir. Done enough studying to know that the name Gideon in Hebrew means great destroyer.” You confidently reply.

“Good,” is all he says.

You glance between Dean Turner and Agent Gideon, watching out of the corner of your eye as Dr. Reid looks you up and down, “May I ask what this is about?”

“The BAU team is looking for an expert on Hebrew and Judaism to aid on the case they’re working on.” Dean Turner explains.

“The fires, right?” You ask.

“Correct,” Agent Gideon says. You note that he’s not much of a talker, sticking to one to two word responses and getting straight to the point.

The two agents allow you to come into the conference room by moving out of the way of the doorframe and you take a look inside.

Dr. Reid starts speaking behind you as you ignore the stares from the other people in the room and take in the writing on the whiteboards.

“There was a message left on the FBI tip line for the fires that had a voice changer and all it said was simply, ‘I do it for Karen’, however we deduced Karen was instead Charown which is-”

“It means anger in Hebrew,” You finish for him, “Usually meaning God’s anger,”

He stood there for a moment, almost surprised that you finished what he was going to say, then nodded, “We believe that the unsub, the person who’s being starting the fires, left the message as a taunt or reason to the police about the fires. The sooner we can deduce what this means to them, the sooner we can fine and apprehend the person responsible.”

“So, what do you need my help for?” You inquire. “You all seem to be doing just fine without me,” You try to joke. It helps bring a few smiles to some faces in the room. Mostly the younger crowd, you note. Agent Gideon and a man in the suit don’t show as much as a sign that you even tried to joke.

The large musclely man sitting in a plastic seat chuckles and smirks, pointing the pencil in his hand at Dr. Reid, “Well, even with the photographic memory of Reid’s, we still need some help. We’re not really religion experts.” His tone goes slightly sour at the end and you ignore it, knowing that many people heavily do not like religion.

“Eidetic memory,” Dr. Reid interrupts, “I have an eidetic memory not a photographic memory.”

“That’s really cool,” You comment, “Must be a blessing and curse in your line of work,” You offhandedly remark. You give him a small smile before focusing back on what is written on the multiple boards around the room.

“So, you think the person who did this is using religion as an excuse to set fires?” You ponder.

The brunette woman sitting next to the large muscled man nods, “Do you think they could be a theology or religious studies major?” She asks, “I’m Agent Greenaway, by the way. That’s Agent Morgan and over there is Agent Hotchner.”

You give her a grateful smile for giving you names to pair with the people in the room. “It’s hard to say. They could be a religion major, but if they are then they’re most likely a freshman. Fire is extremely common across many different religions. In Hinduism, Brahman is often represented by fire. Christianity sometimes worships god as an all consuming fire and in Judaism god can be seen as a pillar of fire.”

You shake your head, “It wouldn’t make sense for a upper classmen to just be setting the fires now when fire is so common in learning about different religions. Fire’s mentioned multiple times throughout 101 and 102 courses.”

“What about punishment with fire for sins?” Agent Morgan asks.

This time Dr. Reid responds before you, “If that were the case we would see more instances of the victims in parallels with their sins. Matthew Rowland was in his dorm room and Professor Wallace was in his office. Neither were in sinful places and if this were about their sins, I think we would see proof left by the unsub at the scene of the crime of it.”

You ponder Dr. Reid’s words and nod along at his explanation before coming to a more likely conclusion, “What about testing people using fire? Baptism by fire, tested through fire in revelations. If this person feels like they were tested, like by a fire that happened in their life, they could be seeking out to test other people the same way they were tested. Trial by fire.”

You wait for any response from the group, hoping that they even somewhat agree with your idea and it means you helped this group of extremely smart and analytical group. Agent Morgan and Agent Greenaway seem to agree with you, even Agent Gideon gives a tilt of his head before examining the whiteboard, perhaps trying to tie the pieces together.

Dr. Reid makes brief eye contact with you and the corners of his mouth turn up, “Tha-that’s really good, I, uh, wouldn’t have thought of trial by fire.”

You take it as a compliment and return the small grin, “Thanks, Dr. Reid,”

“Please, we’re, like, practically the same age, call me, uh, Spencer.”

“Sure,” You softly say. This was perhaps not where you would have liked to talked to Dr. Re-, Spencer, in a room full of people whose jobs were to profile and observe, but, to put it in a cheesy way, the rest of the room drowned out when you conversed.

“Good work,” A voice ceases the conversation between you and the cute and mildly flustered agent, “However, we still don’t know why the unsub is targeting the victims. Or who will be next on their hit list.”

“Wait!” Spencer halts, you imagine that a light bulb dinged above his head with what seemed to be a eureka moment. He sped over to the computer on one of the desks and tables in the room and pulled up a video. The other agents in the room crowded around and over Spencer to see what he wanted to point out.

“There!” He points, “I noticed this before Dean Turner knocked on our door. The handle to the door at Matthew Rowland’s door. We thought that they had tried to get in and couldn’t so they flooded gasoline under the door, but the door handle continued to turn even after the fire was started. It turned exactly three times. No more, no less.”

Then he spun around and pointed at a crime scene picture, you noticed it was of a nameplate, the nameplate outside of Professor Wallace’s office.

“The brain is wired to see patterns and we’re really good at seeking them out. Ralph Wallace’s office number was 3. Matthew Rowland was in his class on Tuesday, third day of the week, and it was his third class of the day. The first fire, one of the failures, occurred on the third month, on the third day, at 3 o’clock.”

Agent Morgan struggles to see the point Spencer is making, “So this unsub is obsessed with the number 3?”

“Not obsessed, but adeptly notices the patterns of 3 and feels compelled to set fires.” Spencer explains.

You furrow your eyebrows and try to understand, “Like a sick, severe, form of OCD?”

“OCD?” Agent Greenaway questions.

You decide to answer her, before Spencer, “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Usually it doesn’t manifest in such an extreme manner.”

Spencer continues to explain, “When the unsub notices a pattern of three, it creates such an overwhelming wave of anxiety that it only stops when they do their compulsion. In this case, setting fires.”

“And I think I know who it is,” Spencer admits, “And it’s not a he, it’s a she.”

Hotch catches on quickly, finishing what Spencer is thinking, “Clara Hayes,”

“Clara Hayes?” You question.

“She’s one of the chem-students Hotch and I talked to. When we were talking to her and her classmates, I noticed she had a ring on her finger. She kept turning it in intervals. Intervals of three. And when she counted off the ingredients of a light bulb bomb, she mentioned sugar three times, because she had to. She had to finish saying it three times.” Spencer explains to the rest of the room.

“Clara and her classmates were working on a group project about gravitational pull,” Agent Hotchner adds, “I’ll send campus security to search for her.”

Gideon finishes Hotch’s thought, “The three-body problem.”

You ponder hard, “She’s audited pretty much every entry-level religious studies class. I remember her because she was one of the only students to come for every single class and she wasn’t even properly enrolled.”

The eyes in the room turn to you, “She even waited for me after a class I was TA’ing and tried to get me to let her into the Mythologies class. You need an Ancient History class as a pre-requisite and she didn’t have that as a chem-student.”

Then your eyes spot the word Karen written on a chalkboard.

“Karen. Mythologies,” You mumble, “Karen. Charown. Charon! Like the greek ferryman of the dead! He’s a large part of the myths for the Greek dead. And if we’re turning back to trial by fire, there’s Moloch. The demon sun god of the Canaanites. To avoid his wrath, people would burn their children alive as a sacrifice.” You point out.

Agent Morgan ruffles through student files on the table he and Agent Greenaway are sitting at.

“Here, Clara Hayes. It has on her file that when she was sixteen, she survived a housefire.”

Agent Greenaway pulls something else out of a nearby box and connects it to Agent Morgan’s papers, “Here’s a newspaper clipping. ‘16-year-old survives inferno. The mother Ellen Haye’s called it a miracle.’ Look what she said, ‘My daughter was tested by God. He tested my child and she came through blessed’. And look at the house number in the photo, 333.”

“So, this is a case of magical thinking and severe OCD,” You plainly state.

“Magical thinking?” Agent Morgan inquires.

You go to explain further, “It’s like a superstition. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back. Except when paired with her severe OCD, Clara actually believes that when a pattern of 3’s line up, she needs to test this person with fire, like she believed she was tested. Like her mother led her to believe. Clara thinks that when 3’s occur, it’s a sign from God to test that person.”

Agent Hotchner checks his phone and then looks back at the group, “Campus security has sweeped the buildings and she isn’t in her apartment. A bomb squad has been called to section off the area, they found 30 plus handmade bombs in her closet.”

Agent Gideon takes command as the rest of the agents (and you) look to him, “We need to get inside every building and start pulling fire alarms. Clara Hayes is somewhere on campus and possibly setting her next, very deadly fire. We need to go.”

Agent Morgan and Greenaway stand up from sitting in the cheap folding chairs at the table and exit the room, Agent Gideon filing after them.

Agent Hotchner looks over to you and gives you a small, yet professional, nod, “Thank you for the help of your expertise with the case, but we’ll need to take it from here. You’re still just a civilian.”

You nod in understanding and give the group a grateful smile, “I understand. I should probably go alert Dean Turner about Clara and everything.”

“That’s a good idea,” Agent Hotchner confirms, “Agent Reid can give you the contact information for our press liaison. She can partner with Dean Turner when the college needs to release a statement.”

Agent Hotchner then leaves the room, turning his walking pace into a jog as the gravity of the situation starts dawning upon everyone in the room. Everyone left in the room, that is. Just you and Spencer.

You both look at each other, him breaking eye contact and looking away first. He turns around back towards the table now littered in files and random papers, grabbing a pen and hurriedly writing something down for you. You note that he’s a really fast writer, until he pauses for a little bit and you can almost see the cogs turning in his big eidetic brain of his.

You assume he makes a decision on whatever he was stuck on and finishes jotting on the paper, ripping it off the notepad and handing it to you.

“Here’s, uh, like Hotch said, the, um, phone number, fax, and email for Jennifer Jareau, our press liaison back at Quantico. Dean Turner’s probably gonna want that to coordinate statements whenever they plan to release them.” Spencer explains, pointing to the piece of paper in your hand.

You leer down at the yellow and red-lined notebook paper, Spencer’s chickenscratch is hard to make out, but you can see where he’s written the name of the liaison lady and the handwriting is legible enough for you to make out the numbers of the fax machine and phone number and the letters of the email address.

Then your eyes gaze down beneath that information to find something else.

You look back up at Spencer, you know what that is and you’d like to guess why he’s given it to you, but you really want to hear it from him first.

He adjusts his glasses and notices that you’ve finished reading the paper, “And that’s, uh, my personal phone number. You helped m-- us, on the case a lot. With your degree in psychology, if, um, you ever wanted to do profiling, give me a call.” His ears are slightly flushed red at the tips and his hands fidget at his sides.

“Or if you’re ever in D.C. and you want to, like, uh, get a coffee and catch up.” He tags on, “It’s just, your brain is amazing, and um, -- that was weird to say, I’m so sorry. You can do whatever with the number, but I just tho-”

“Spencer,” You interrupt his rant and give him a wide grin, “I’d love to get a coffee when I’m in D.C.”

You can see on his face that he notes your wording of ‘when’ and go to elaborate, “I got accepted to a research position in Washington, some ancient writings and artifacts are being moved to the Smithsonian this summer and I’ll be part of the religious translation team.”

“Oh,” Spencer responds, a grin makes a way to his face as well, “That’s, uh, great.” His voice cracks a little bit.

“I’ll let you know when I’m in town, however,” You explain with a playful expression, “Don’t you have a firestarter to catch?”

A spark of realization spreads throughout his face and Spencer nods quickly and gathers his belongings, “Yes!” He exclaims, “Yes, I do! Um, it was so nice to meet you, and I, uh, hope we can meet again soon.”

He says stumbling and stuttering as he goes to rush out of the room, leaving you watching after the lanky and slightly awkward man.

You laugh as you watch him sprints down the hallway with a smile on your face and your hand waving goodbye.

Although, you don’t think it’s gonna be the last time you’ll see Dr. Spencer Reid. Not if you have anything to do with it.

[gideonsgem]

Trapping a Gemstone Pt 1

"That's a wrap!" shouted the director. The sound of clapping and cheers filled the studio as we celebrated. I smiled at the various castmates and crew members while we exchanged a few “great jobs” and “thank yous”  as I passed by everyone on my way to my trailer. The movie ended up taking longer than originally planned to finish and I’m eager to head home. I brought my bags to set today so I could grab them and immediately head to the airport.

My daughter is attending a summer camp on the other side of the country in Georgia. I decided it would be better for her to be around kids her age and spend some time outdoors rather than hang out with me on set for the summer. 

I was supposed to be done and home by now, but the filming took longer than anticipated. So instead of celebrating with the crew tonight, I’ll be on a flight out of here.

I sent an email to my assistant, Luke, whom I sent home yesterday to begin coordinating. I need him to send me my flight details and give me an update on the party planning. I know, it seems like a lot to have a party when she’s only been gone a month and a half but she’s never been away from home long without at least one family member with her. It’s always been me and her since her dad and I split when she was a baby, so this is a big deal for us.

~

Trinity’s POV

15 hours earlier

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked the girl sitting in front of me. “YES” she shouted in reply “Trinity, the only way we are going to pull this off is if we cut your bangs!”

“Okay okay, just do it Serenity,” I said squeezing my eyes shut as I heard the scissors cut my hair.

“Perfect,”  she grinned, holding the mirror up. I opened my eyes to see my reflection staring back at me, but now sporting a brand new fringe. 

I pulled at the freshly cut hair  “woah, how do you deal with this every day? They’re annoying already.”

“Eh” she shrugged while turning around to put everything away “it’s a fashion statement I believe in. If Sabrina Carpenter does it every day, then so can I,”  she paused for a second and turned to look back at me “and now you”.

“Okay!” I called out  “Quiz me one more time to make sure I’ve got everyone down” 

Serenity plopped down and pulled out her ipad  “alrighty girl, who is this?” 

She showed a picture of an older man with glasses. “That is great-granddad Eli” 

“Correct!” She beamed “Now who are they?” 

“That’s Uncle Kelvin and Keef”.

“Right again!”

We went through the rest of the Gemstone family tree and the close acquaintances I’d need to be familiar with to blend in.

“Last one! Who’s this?” 

She showed me a picture of the one I’ve been waiting 13 years to meet “Gideon Gemstone–Dad” I smiled at it. 

“Sooooo” Serenity started, “what exactly is mom like?” 

My–our mom– is a famous actress. Y/F/N Y/L/N “Mom is amazing” I told her “She’s so smart and so talented it's beyond me. She is an incredibly hard worker but will always make the time to joke around or just hang out. She’s the most dependable person I know”.

“I can’t wait to meet her” Serenity replied “If it wasn’t for Dad, Gigi (Amber, I feel like she would so be a Gigi)  and Granddad  (Eli) I feel like I wouldve ended up like Aunt Judy or Papa Jesse. Dad has always been chill and down to earth despite the Gemstone lifestyle.”

“I’m right there with you” The both of us started getting ready for bed “The great thing is the two of us finally meet them tomorrow” I added while crawling into bed.

She rolled over in her bed to face me “Who knew that this random summer camp would’ve brought me my long-lost twin” 

“I’m happy we met” I yawned drifting off. Tomorrow will be a big day for us

~

“Here’s my phone, Mom’s assistant, Luke, will be waiting at the airport to pick you up. He’s not super chatty BUT he will give you a huge hug so just be prepared for that” I warned Serenity.

“Yes, yes. We’ve been over this” she laughed “here’s my phone, the jet will be waiting for you the car will drive you right up to it so you dont have to worry about checking in or anything. You think you can handle it?” 

“I don’t think it’s me you should be worried about, have you ever flown on a regular plane? It might be first class but still” I laughed at her.  

She gave me a big hug “My privilege is going to show but I am terrified to fly commercial”

I squeezed her “it’s going to be okay, you can use the wi-fi to text me if you get scared” 

“I’ll miss you Trinny” 

“I’ll miss you, too Renny but we’ll see each other in a few weeks” 

Your POV

“Oh my God my baby is going to be here any minute!” I shout running around my room. I thought I had enough time to take a shower but Luke texted me saying Trinity’s flight got in early and they’ll be home.

I wasn’t even dressed yet, I had my robe on still and my hair is still in the towel. I was looking for clothes when I heard the alarm ding alerting us that the front door opened.

“Trinity!!!!!!” Our family call out to her .

“shit” I muttered as I threw the pants in my hands on the floor. I took the towel off my head and began speed walking downstairs.

I saw my parents smothering her in a hug and when they let go we made eye contact “TRINNY BABY!!!!!! You cut your hair?!” I shouted as I ran towards her.

“Hey Mom” she sighed as I wrapped my arms around her “I’m so happy to see you.”

"Me too, babydoll, me too” I replied “I totally love the hair by the way”.

Requested by @ringa-starr

next chapter tuesday 2/27 so sorry its late. i went to post it and hated it so I had to fix it

[stonecoldhedwig]

Fic List

I have not done an updated fic list in a while, so here it is! I want to finish up my WIP this year, and then in the works I have a Dating App AU Jily fic (Remus is a dairy farmer?); another Oxford Chronicles installment; a massive Jily Hogwarts era thing; a Lily Luna/OC Quidditch AU; and about 19 other ideas.

WIP

A Great Many Things (M, eventual E; Alicia Spinnet/Oliver Wood; canon compliant; probably my favourite OC ever)

Celandine (E; Wolfstar, Jily, Blackinnon, literally every ship ever; open relationships; magical AU)

Coming, Evans? (M, but eventually E; magical AU inspired by Around the World in 80 Days; Jily and Wolfstar)

Highgate Mews (M; established Wolfstar, Jily & Dorlene; Muggle AU; part of the Marauders Map series)

Honeybee Mine (M; Muggle AU; Jily and Blackinnon; James Potter keeps bees)

The Shoelaces Case; or, the many ways to spend your 37th birthday (M; Blackinnon; magical AU; time travel)

Use Your Best Colours (T; canon from Hedwig's perspective; it's so stupid)

Multi-Chapter fics (completed)

In Love and Death We Don't Decide (M; eventual Blackinnon and Jily; Hogwarts era fic)

Miracles series (James Potter as the Boy Who Lived):

A Bitter Little Eucharist (T; established Wolfstar and Jily)

The Marauders' Map series:

Hepburn Avenue (M; text fic; utter chaos as the Marauders meet the girls at uni)

Canterbury Lane (T; Wolfstar; Remus checks Sirius out in a car)

Costa del Sol (T; text fic; established Jily and Wolfstar; the gang go on holiday; currently unfinished for a really petty reason and tbh, probably staying like that)

Caraway Street (E; established Jily and Wolfstar; the post-uni years)

Peverell Hall (G; fluff; James Potter's idyllic childhood)

The Oxford Chronicles series:

The Paintbox (M; Blackinnon, background Jily and Remadora; Muggle AU)

Jily One-Shots

A Little Bloom of Hope (T; Muggle AU; flower shop)

Better Ways (G; pre-relationship)

James Potter and the Case of the Lacy Black Bra (E; everyone lives)

Last Rites (E; canon compliant; emotional smut)

My Heart is Overcome (Gen; canon compliant; fluff and angst)

The Parting Glass (T; fluff)

The Way the Light Looks (T; fluff, but in an angsty setting)

Blackinnon One-Shots

Confession (M; love confessions)

Oceans and Glaciers (E; ok, it's actually a 2 shot, but hey ho; very explicit)

Wolfstar One-Shots

Mosaic (E; 8 one-shots with a lot of different kinks, I guess)

Snowed In (T; first kiss; Hanukkah; Jewish!Remus)

Until It Shines (G; mild angst but also very fluff; canon divergence)

Hinny One-Shots

A Lesson Overheard (E; first time[ish]; canon compliant)

A Place for Hidden Things (T; canon compliant; post-canon; sad but with a happy ending)

Opaline (E; post-war; angry sex and unhealthy coping mechanisms)

Three Gnomes in a Knitted Trench Coat (G; technically canon compliant; a bit of a crack fic tho)

Misc. One-Shots

Afternoon Delight (E; Colin Creevey/Draco Malfoy; yeah, I hate myself too)

Enough Pizza to Feed a Horse (G; canon compliant[ish]; the OotP girls hang out)

Giving Us Doomsday (T; angst; original OotP celebrating New Year)

God Bless the Shed, and All Who Sail in Her (G; fluff and humour; the Potters being Potters)

hoax (G; Marlene/Gideon; angst; implied cheating)

Remember that You are Dust (M; 2nd person POV; the universe addresses the Marauders at the time of their deaths)

The Theory of Relativity (T; established Jily and Wolfstar, previous Remadora and Blackinnon, but not in a misogynist way; Lily is enby)

Rabastan Lestrange/Narcissa Malfoy fics

coney island (M; angst; sex; adultery)

The Burning Edge of Dawn (M; angst; who is Draco's dad?)

Collabs

All's Well That Ends Well (even if it takes four years) with a lot of people (E; Wolfstar; angst then fluff)

WIP: The Secret "Oral" History with @jennandblitz (E; 1980s university; lots of drugs; we affectionately call this Coke Fic)

WIP: We Were Electrified with @siriusly-sapphic (M; how the Lestrange twins became the worst people ever)

[cynda-queer]

“People You’d Like to Know Better” Tag Game

Tagged by @full---ofstarlight, I fucking love these games sooooooo

—

Three Ships:

- DabiHawks

- Hero and villain? Check. Two sides of the same coin? Check. Enemies-to-lovers? Check. Back to enemies again? Check. I am actively rotating them in my head like all day. I want to explain my obsession with them, but the only way I feel I can get it across is grabbing someone in the face and screaming. But legit, it’s the “I love you, but not enough to change” “I love you, but not like this” “You’re the first thing that was mine” and looking at someone and seeing them for who they are beyond the outside and loving what you see, but your ideas/desires/destiny is too great to ignore. This a ship where all ends are satisfying—in canon, they’ll never get a happy ending because their story is literally the love wasn’t enough, but sometimes I just like to imagine what could be if things were a little different. Dabi and Hawks both need someone to look at them and *actually* see them, to think that they’re worth something as themselves and not what they can do and, I think for a little while, they both get that from one another, but like every other person in their life, they picked something else rather than the other and that hurts so nice. I also just think they should fuck nasty.

- ZuzuRaha

- The person who tagged me is stronger than I am for not putting an OC-ship in their response. Zu’zu is my slutty catboy bard and G’raha Tia is his nerdy over 100-year old boyfriend from FFXIV. It’s about falling in love with your heroes and then falling in love with a person. It’s about “I want to go with you through thick and thin” and “my place is by your side” and “there’s no where else I’d rather be than with you” and “take me with you” and “love me for the quiet moments too”. The moment is Shadowbringers where the cowl comes off and you can call him by his name and he *cries* is literally everything to me. The idea of waking Raha up in the Source and then he just never wants to spend a moment away from you? Beautiful. Zu’zu found someone he connects with and rather than pushing it away in the face of “saving someone” from heartache like he did the first time, he loves and loves and loves Raha wholeheartedly because the future isn’t promised, but I want to spend right now with you. I’m excited to see how Dawntrail goes and spend more time with Zu’zu’s dweeb of a boyfriend.

- GriddleHark

- Literally, again, enemies-to-lovers is everything to me. No one understands me like you do and there is no one else who matters and no me without you. Literally read the first chapter of Gideon the Ninth and was just obsessed. I am gnawing on Gideon like a good bone and I’m spinning Harrow in a salad spinner. Two kids having to be bigger than they are and they fool everyone, even themselves, but not the other. Harrow the Ninth being from Gideon’s POV and just how she sees Harrow and how she knows her and how she *adores* her in her own way just makes me fucking feral. And how Harrow recognizes Gideon even when she’s not herself and how there’s a part of her down in her bones that knows Gideon, *loves* Gideon is just making me shake. I want them back together in the same room and want to watch them scrap like a pair of feral chickens and maybe, if Tamsyn is kind to me, I can finally get them to kiss* in the worst way possible.

- *(While both of them are in their body and aware of what the fuck is going on)

Last Film:

- Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

- It’s a fun movie, we needed to put something on and it’s on the plex and so we put it on. Only watched it for the first time like a year or two again and I enjoyed it. I saw the Universal Halloween Horror Nights Show (mind you, the last show they did) before I saw the actual movie.

Currently Watching

- Fall of the House of Usher

- Weird feelings about this show. It’s certainly something and it’s certainly making me feel things. I’m morbidly curious about this show and I want to finish it before Netflix gets rid of it like they did Midnight Mass (which was such a good show). Fun to see Mark Hamil.

Currently Reading

- The Bayou

- I started this book, like, months ago, I think before I started school this semester and I still haven’t gotten more than a few pages into it. Been really into American Southern Gothic and roommate recommended this to me. One day I’ll finish it, maybe after finals.

Currently Consuming

- Pom Pomegranate Tea Lemonade

- My fucking crack shit I love this juice so much I buy, like, four bottles of it whenever I see it in the grocery store and they’ve stopped carrying it at all of the ones I shop at and so I’m not hording it like a dragon

Currently Craving

- My new community college to get back to me so I can get this nonsense figured out and maybe get into the mortuary program on time

- Also pumpkin pie (but that’ll be fixed tomorrow >:3)

Tagging: @fluffy-fern @lenkagamine133 @amilliontinysqueaks @evelynnsometimes @keclan and viewers like you :)

[bemtevis]

Istg at this point I'm just going to rewrite tlh out of spite for how awful cc treated them

James all of the sudden is this asshole who we barely ever seen reading AND WHERE DID HIS CUTE GLASSES GO😭😭

Christopher gets like zero acknowledgment even tho at the academy Thomas and Matthew were constantly backing him up(and sure we see this in chot but after ignoring him for two books and then killing him with zero grief :/)

Matthew...I actually don't have an issue with Matthew BECAUSE WE NEVER SEE HIS POINT OF VIEW, and I also feel his character might be the most realistic to the situation aside from Alastair and Grace

Thomas...she literally gave all his creativity to James. He writes poems and songs?? Where did that go?? We also never see him read or spend any actual page time with his family for more than a passing sentence

Jesse was fine ig until that scene with Grace...it's giving the Matthew and Alastair scene at the end of choi

Ari felt in character but I wish we could have seen more of her growth that wasn't just coming out and moving out

Anna is probably the one I'm the most upset about though because like, she was so nice in her original short story. And now she's just this straight up bitch who takes women's virginity for fun? CECILY AND GABRIEL'S DAUGHTER? I think fucking not.

And I hate that everyone moved past how creepy Charles dating Alastair and Ari was like, dude was a whole ass ADULT with a JOB preying on barely 16 year olds(we all know he waited for Alastair to turn 16 for consent laws😒)

And also why are all of the tid parents not present in their kids lives??? Tid and gotsm will, tessa, gabriel, cecily, sophie, and gideon would NEVER. And about the fairchild twins, I fucking hate that she did that. They already fucked matthew up by forcing him to either raise himself in order to take care of his dad or was babysat by the herondales, and he's probably going to be forced to take care of the twins too(yet another math/alas parallel)

Sorry for the rant I just have so many angry feelings about cc as a fellow author rn, like how fo you fuck up your own characters THAT badly-

oh pls do, I'm sure whatever you come up with will be better than canon

I mean he was kind of an asshole beforehand but I figured it was because of the gracelet and all, but his behavior barely changed after it was off! it was so pointless

JUSTICE FOR CHRISTOPHER! he was done so dirty! cc tells us the merry thieves love each other like brothers but then one of them dies and they barely grieve! show not tell, it's one of the first things you should learn as a writer

while I'm sure I would've glazed over most of them, I'm sure having matthew's pov would add a lot to the story. instead, his development is seen only through other people's povs and it falls flat, imo.

something I noticed while reading was that if it was one of thomas' povs, it would be about thomastair. I don't recall any instance in which it isn't. there was the night at matthew's flat, but that ended up being thomastair as well. we barely see him interact with his friends or family or hear about his interests and dreams! cc had something great with him and she threw it away, and for WHAT!

Idk why cc bothered to write james and jesse and everyone being so mad at grace, only for there to be only a few paragraphs in the epilogue about her forgiveness. it was such a cop out, tbh.

same as with thomas, all of ari's povs were about her love interest, except for the first one maybe. look, I know there is a huge cast of characters and it's hard to balance it all out, but cc's books are so filled with amatonormativity that it's hard not to see the pattern.

the thing with anna is that in chot, she feels more like what she should've been. same with matthew imo. they're flawed characters, yes, and don't always make the best decisions, but they're closer to what the narrative wanted me to believe from the start. I loved eet anna, but chog came and ruined her! then cc tried to retcon it, Ig, and it was such an abrupt change that it felt off putting!

yeah yeah absolutely! I've said this before, but the problem with charles wasn't that he was closeted! it was his weird predatory behavior, and that was completely unaddressed. he, like anna and matthew and grace, had his arc rushed so the consequences of cc's writing couldn't catch up with her, but WE READ THE BOOKS! we know he's fucking creepy!

tbh if you told me all of the parents were trapped in a bubble for most of this trilogy, I would believe you. they were not present at all. gideon and gabriel lost their kids to their own sister, and they don't even process it. same with sophie and cecily. it's like they don't even exist.

dw about it! sorry for the equally long, if not longer, rant lol. completely agree; cc's great at creating great concepts then not knowing how to execute them at all. it's so sad

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 8

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2606 (20 min avg read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

I was escorted immediately to the great hall where my father was waiting for me. The commander who found me, Commander Gaius Gideon, was walking briskly ahead and I struggled to keep up with his pace, especially since two pairs of hands had me on each shoulder. I glared at each armoured soldier. Trying to shrug them off was no use as they were much stronger than I. 

The walk to the Great Hall was long, humiliating and I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead to avoid the stares from those inside. Dignitaries and Ruling Officers of Berdusk idled as I passed. I caught from the corner of my eye the way they stared.

They had always stared. They had stared at my mother too. Alway remarking on her dark skin, her flaming hair. She was beautiful, but to them - she was exotic and foreign and something to ogle at. I knew why my father had always liked having her around. But it left a sour taste in my mouth. And now those stares were mine to deal with. 

My father was poring over a map spread out on a table, his back to me. His head, with dark hair, growing just past his shoulders was adorned with a bronze circlet. I rarely saw him without it. He was dressed in rich crimson robes, and I knew that the insignia of the phoenix was embroidered in gold on his chest. My father was guardian of the province of Berdusk and he oversaw all of the politics and commerce that happened within his province. I knew that he was well-liked by his equals and by most of the upper-class. I didn’t know what anyone in the general populace thought of him. And seeing how he didn’t want me around them, that was answer enough. 

I watched him from my place where the soldiers had stopped me and I waited - impatiently - for my father to look up and acknowledge me.

“Your Grace,” Commander Gideon said, standing at the bottom of the small set of stairs that would lead up to where my father was. He waited, straight and tall and austere. Commander Gideon had been a silent companion on my travel back to Berdusk and I wanted to respect him for his strict obedience to his creed, but gods he annoyed me too. 

There was no answer. 

“Your Grace.” Commander Gideon repeated. “Your son has been returned to you.”

My father’s only response was an inconvenienced hum. I felt the blood in my cheeks as the anger rose inside me. 

“The least you could do was acknowledge me after sending your men all the way out to the Sword Coast? Why bother spending all that manpower if you can’t even look at me?” I shouted.

I caught the flinch in his back, and I saw his hand tighten into a fist. I felt a lingering swell of pride at getting under his skin, but then felt the cold dread as he slowly raised his head and turned to look at me. 

“Take him to his rooms, Commander. I will summon him when I am able.” He was unwavering and I felt naked under his gaze. He found me disappointing, disgusting, and intolerable. He hated me as much as I hated him. 

“Why keep me if I’m no use to you?” I yelled, even as I was being dragged away. “What do you want from me?”

My father did not look away from me even as I was dragged from the Great Hall. I kicked and struggled, giving the men hell. I probably looked like such a fool. I was a grown man acting like a child. I knew that. But I hated this place. I hated the way everyone looked at me, I hated my father most of all. 

My room was just as I had left it three months ago. I was ungracefully tossed in and Commander Gideon spared a moment to give me a pitying stare before closing the door behind me and locking it. 

I wanted to pound against the door and scream to be let out, but instead I laid where I was left on the ground and breathed slowly. It felt like the only thing I could do at that moment. Everything had become so wrong. I kept thinking of Drun and wishing I could have seen him one last time, even if it was just to say goodbye.

I was still there when I heard the click of the lock being released and the door opening. I heard the soft, slow footsteps as someone walked towards me and stopped right above me. 

I blinked up and saw the looming gaze of my father. 

“You have forgotten your place here, Altan.” He said, his voice soft and level. I knew it was an act, just to get me to listen to him. “Get up.”

I felt like being a rebel and not listening to him, but being at the feet of my father and knowing I could not go any lower than this made me climb up to my feet and stare at him, level and even. The words of my mother echoed in me, “Your father is not one who knows how to love easily, he prefers to possess the things he wants, even if it causes him pain to do so.” 

I knew that to be true. He had wanted my mother the moment he saw her. Had promised her the world and tempted her with his honey words. She was promised so much by him, but ended up being nothing more than his consort, a bedwarmer and a trophy. She bore him the sons he so desired. I remembered the way he looked at me when I was young, so proud and delighted in teaching me how to hold a sword, chasing me around the gardens pretending to be a dragon that I was meant to slay. 

I remembered when things changed for the worse when he took me hunting. He had spoken to me of that day for so many years and I was eager to please him. He gave me his own bow from when he was a boy to shoot with. I remember my father’s hands were over mine as he drew the arrow back in my bow and the tears that escaped as I watched the arrow loose and sink into the chest of the boar. My father only comforted me until he realized that I would not shoot another creature again, nor eat their meat and then his disposition towards me changed. 

The more I followed in the ways of my mother - in gentleness and the arts - the more he grew to resent me and her. 

“What are you teaching him?” He yelled at her once. “Our son has no friends his own age, they say he is too strange. He won’t hunt. He won’t fight with swords. He’s an embarrassment. He plays with rabbits in the garden. He sings to the flowers to make them happy. Telmira, whatever you’re teaching him has to stop. He won’t be fit for running this province with such a backwards upbringing.”

“He is no less for being soft, Taliesin.” My mother had said, in her same soft, gentle voice. Oh how I missed her voice. 

My mother bore him two more sons, who were immediately taken from her arms and raised the way my father wanted them raised, her interactions with them far less frequent from my time with her. They grew to be more like him, more active, more driven, to strive for a level of excellence. I loved them for their spirit, but they were loved by my father even more.

But I was always my mother’s son, and my mother protected me as much as she could from the cruelty my father held in his gaze for me not being the son he wanted. 

When he found me kissing that boy - that stupid stablehand boy with the sandy hair and green eyes  - he wrenched me away and I remembered the stinging of his belt against my back as he called me filth, perverse and tainted. He blamed my mother for it all. Blamed my elven blood for how mixed up I had become. He struck my mother next, it was the first time he had ever struck her. One sharp slap across her flawless face and we all stood in the silence of that moment. Even my father looked stunned at what he did and he left without another word. 

I hated him from that day on. Not for what he did to me, but for what he did to my mother. He would never understand her and therefore never understand me. He never truly loved her, which meant I could never be the son he wanted, nor did I want to be. 

The memories faded from my mind as I returned to where I was then, staring at my father, seeing him aged and human before me. He was only human. Nothing impressive really. But I felt a fear for him like no other man. My life was in his hands, and I knew that he was capable of ruining it. 

“Duke Hilmar” I said, my voice level.

“You do not call me father.” He said. He did not seem surprised or even upset by it. 

“I do not see you as one.” I said. “Now that my mother is dead, you are nothing more to me than the man who has made my life a living Hell.”

“I can easily make it worse, son.” He warned. “Talmira is no longer here to protect you like she did before.”

“Why do you need me so badly?” I asked. “I had no intention of using your name, no one would have ever known where I was from. We could have pretended I died and we both would have been happy to be rid of each other. Why did you bring me back?”

He smirked at me, the deep lines in his forehead deepend. “You are still so young, Altan. I promised myself after your mother’s passing that I would right my wrongs. I would teach you better.”

“You needn’t be so generous with your time, your grace.” I said, my tone sarcastic. 

“You are my heir, Altan. I am honour bound to see that you are capable of upholding yourself as a righteous duke.”

“Why not give it to one of my brothers? They seem to be better suited for it.” I offered.

He shook his head, and he brought a hand to his forehead, pinching it. “Altan, it doesn’t work like that. I can’t just conveniently pretend you don’t exist for our convenience. You are my son. As much as you resent me, I will not shirk my duty to raise you as you should have been.” He took a step back and started to circle around my room, “Commander Gideon tells me you were found in a small fishing town on the Sword Coast. The innkeeper said you had been there for a number of weeks. What kept you there for so long? I certainly hope you did not do anything…unsavory while you were there.”

Like I would tell him, I thought. My mind strayed to Drunrag, and the number of nights I found myself whispering his name as I touched myself. Heat blossomed in my cheeks at the memory.  I turned my face away to hide it, but I knew my father wouldn’t miss it. 

“Who was he?” He asked, his tone became dark.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” I said, my voice quickening. “I swear.”

He stopped and studied me. “Your body is pure?” He asked.

I nodded, the heat in my cheeks was becoming unbearably hot. I hated the way he looked at me. 

He hummed and turned towards the door. “You will rest tonight, but tomorrow we will begin your private studies.” 

I scrubbed myself clean in my private baths after being manhandled so much since leaving the Sword Coast. I found an old pair of nightclothes to sleep in and I wished that I had the small comfort of seeing Drun in my dreams, but I knew already that he would not appear. 

I found myself swimming in the silken sheets of my bed, but they did not provide for me the comfort that they used to. I knew all of these small comforts came with the price of being my father’s prisoner. I was not truly free as long as I was under his watch. I would have gratefully taken Drun’s meager pile of blankets over this.

I was about to fall asleep, when I heard the door open once again and the padding of bare feet raced across the floor before two bodies crashed into the sheets around me. 

“You’re back!” My younger brother, Selhar, was starting to mature into a man. In the last three months since I had last seen him, his face had hardened and his body was tall and lithe. But he still grinned at me boyishly and had an arm around me.

Taliesin, my youngest brother, was still just a boy and the one my father loved the most. Selhar and I both were accustomed to calling him Robin, because for so long he was small and chirpy just like the bird. I still loved him too, despite his increasing tendency to think and act as my father did. I felt relief when I saw his own face and seeing delight. They both held me and expressed such excitement for my return. 

“Where all did you go?” Selhar asked, Robin crawled his way through the sheets until he was able to sit upright and listen closely. The two seemed eager to hear of my adventures away from home. Being away for them sounded exciting and thrilling, nothing like the fear of being chased down as it had been for me for so many weeks after I ran away. 

So I told them all of my stories. Of the places I saw, the people I met. I told them how I made money through my music at all of the taverns I stopped at and how I was able to work for my money. They had never heard of such a thing yet in their lives and the concept was foreign and bizarre. They were so sheltered here. I remembered a time I had been so sheltered. 

The two eventually snuggled under the sheets with me and the two of them were slumbering on either side of me. Such days were numbered, I knew, before my father would expect them both to grow up and be men. I hated the idea of their kindness leaving their eyes. I whispered stories that mother told me into their ears, wishing and willing them to remember everything she had taught them when she had the chance. Never forget the one who loved you most.

I couldn’t sleep then, caught between so many feelings. I was grateful to see my brothers, but I knew all of this came at the greatest cost. My freedom. My ability to choose for myself. 

To choose. Wasn’t that what Drun had wanted all along? I hummed, wishing I could have spoken to him one last time. I would have told him so many things had I known it would be the last time. But now all I wanted to tell him was that I understood him. I knew how important it was to be given a choice.