#speaking of dulci

[slugpup2]

if i had a coin for every limbus account i had partial custody over i'd have three coins which isn't a lot but i think these people need to pay me more

[tiffanyachings]

it would have been very beautiful. camilla would have had to cook (horrible bone soup)

[arithmonym]

have we considered: transfem palamedes & gender euphoria inside camilla’s body

[mistborn-bastard]

I talked about this on my old blog and people entirely misunderstood it in a wholesome way But now I am going to be entirely non wholesome <3

Do you think sylvari go into a sort of "bloom"? Cause I mean, flowers are a plants reproductive structure so....

Seasonally based blooms, different plant types sylvari having different times of year, times of day, and even how long it lasts

I have to make these little plant binches weirder, it's my duty as a plant nerd

[secretsofthewilde]

The moment in the final ep where the Deadloch choir singing All the Things Said plays as the women came running into the farmhouse to help Dulcie and everyone else out? Brilliant scene. The way they are literally running to go aide these men who turned their backs on them, bc that's what these women do, they care. How this moment is really what helps connect the people in Deadloch to move forward together to become a real community.

[paradigmsofbrittaperry]

I hate when I know exactly what I want but the Google gods won’t give it to me. like I only want to see listings for 4″ tall Disney Fairies Friends figurines, not the 12″ Disney Store dolls. I know what I want. I know what I put into your silly little search engine. 

[justsomeguycore]

genuinely i think this is it

[cryobabiess]

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x concubine!reader

Summary: After a public tantrum at a senator's gathering, Geta sends Caracalla's most beloved concubine to comfort his mad brother. Tags: hurt/comfort, slightly NSFW, implied/mentioned sex, Caracalla has serious mommy issues, nipple play, breastfeeding :/ (sorry), short fic, Caracalla is obsessed with your big naturals I guess idk AN: I'm not sure if there's any Otessa Moshfegh enjoyers out there, but this lil mini fic is inspired by Lapvona. Caracalla's man-child vibe reminded me of Merek, so naturally I had to write the most strange and off-putting fic to satisfy my weird-girl impulses. Enjoy, freaks!

Hurt by his brother’s callous words, the divine emperor Caracalla had fled the senator’s banquet in a fit of rage. It only takes a single tense glance from Emperor Geta for you to receive his silent command to follow after his mad brother. It does not take long to find him.

Like always, he hides away under a golden table tucked in the far corner of the throne room. His sniveling echoes off the tall marble walls. You slowly approach his curled up form, as if not to startle a wild hare.

“Caracalla. You must come out now.” You call his name softly.

“I will not.” He croaks through his tears, turning his back towards you. With a sigh, you sink to your knees, extending your open arms towards him.

You wait for Caracalla to find his sense. After a few moments, He finally turns to you to reveal his face—pale, rosy, and wet.

“Has brother sent you to scold me? I am no child!” Spite coats his words. You smile at the absurdity. He could order your head on a pike if he so pleased, but prefers for you to indulge his brooding. A god-king with the whims of a spurned child.

“No, I do not seek to scold, little prince. Come now, so that I may hold you.”

And with that, the emperor crawls to you.

He settles into your arms and you cradle his torso, the luxurious fabric of his ornate robes pooling at your lap. His cheek rests atop your bosom like a newborn babe—he weeps like one too.

“It is unjust! Brother always has the last word, yet I am eldest!” Caracalla laments, his tears wet the bodice of your stola.

You use your free hand to smooth tendrils of copper hair away from his damp face. A tantrum of this magnitude was not uncommon for the young emperor, though you often wondered how a man could display such behaviors at the age of twenty and one. Caracalla was distinctly tender, despite his blood lust. His ego was delicate, easily wounded by Geta’s pragmatism and rigid sensibility.

“He wishes to be rid of me, I know it.” He sniffles, his hand reaching to fiddle with the pendant resting at the base of your neck. You smile softly despite growing weary of this routine.

“Don’t be without reason, mea dulcis. You are invaluable to Rome and all her subjects. Geta speaks without tact when he is cross. You must know this too, hmm?”

Caracalla thinks for a moment, brows knitting together in contemplation.

“He is unkind. It should have been him to suffer in the womb, not I.”

You can’t help but laugh at his juvenile description of his brother's malicious cruelty. Frustration flashes across Caracalla’s face as water threatens to brim his eyes again.

“Peace, my lamb. No more tears.” You coo, using a thumb to swipe away at the wetness—but it is too late. Your laughter invited a new wave of angry tears. He buries his face in your breasts, jeweled fingers dragging down the fabric of your stola. His mouth quickly finds your nipple. You hiss, resisting the urge to pull him away from your flesh.

It brings the emperor great comfort to suckle you. Geta had explained Caracalla’s affliction once before.

“Our own mother denied him her breast; she believed him to be cursed. Perhaps he held on to that trangression. He called for a wet nurse until the age of ten and two. My brother has always suffered from madness, you see.”

You had taken prior notice of this habit. After he fucks you like an animal in heat, he often drifts back to your tit, lazily sucking and nibbling until sleep takes him. You thought nothing of it until emperor Geta revealed it’s cause to you.

And though you had no milk to bear, tranquility came over the man as if he had been fed. Eyes closed and breath even, he plays with a tendril of your hair as he rolls your swollen nipple in his hot mouth—lost in bliss. It is odd, but you pity him. With his lips so flush against you and his expression finally at peace, one could forget the madness, the carnage, the rage.

Sometime later, Caracalla regains his composure, standing straight with his shoulders back, returning to a proud and stately posture. He crudely wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand.

“You will attend to me in my chambers tonight.” He commands before returning to the festivities.

[tanis-zed]

Sudden brain blast over morning coffee:

John Gaius, necrolord whatever, cringiest man alive, refuses to let the earth die. And not just in the literal sense of locking the earth’s soul in a barbie on ice, in subtler ways too.

The most obvious is the memes, John constantly references memes that are dated even to us, but are in universe from a culture that died ten thousand years ago!

Slightly more subtle is the years. Why does everyone in the Houses measure in earth years? It’s been ten THOUSAND years since anyone lived on the earth! But John keeps them as a unit of measurement.

Even more subtle is the language. In sci-fi and fantasy we’re all used to the idea of the translation for the reader, people don’t speak english in lord of the rings, or dune, but the dialogue is in english for us, the readers. Not in The Locked Tomb. In this series, they ARE speaking english. Modern, bog standard english, to the point where two people born thousands of years apart speak similar enough dialects that one can pose as the other (dulcie/cytheria).

Now, this could possibly fall under that standard sci-fi trope, EXCEPT!!!! In Nona The Ninth, we see the non-house humans! And they speak dozens of languages, like you’d expect after TEN THOUSAND YEARS of linguistic drift!

John is trying SO HARD to keep the earth alive that he’s forced a language to stagnate for, say it with me now, Ten Thousand Years, to the point where even completely new things with no equivalent in our world don’t even have new words, just repurposed old ones (flimsy, sonic).

John Gaius, the first necromancer, could resurrect the planet itself, and millions of people, but he couldn’t resurrect the culture. So, John, cryogenics researcher, tried to put the culture on ice, to keep it as close to the one he remembers as possible. And he still failed.

[harrowharkwife]

i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.

they're his.

palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.

and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.

but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.

they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.

the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)

palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.

(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)

(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)

remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.

in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.

the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.

we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."

they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.

but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.

palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.

harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.

nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.

[ooctlt]

Where did the name Navagesimus come from Dulcie? I thought Harrows second name was Nonagesimus (assuming thats who you are speaking about)

[adolin]

favourite parts of GtN act 3 I had forgotten about

Cytherea giving Dulcie a health crisis the moment Silas might get in contact with Abigail's ghost

There was something pale blue sparking within the corpse of Abigail Pent, and suddenly and horribly the body shuddered [...] Someone screamed, and she recognised the voice as Dulcinea’s. Gideon moved thickly through the grey-lipped crowd, watching Dulcinea collapse in what felt like slow motion, reaching out to the rumpled figure in the big dressing gown. [...] Protesilaus stalked forward, and he did not even bother to draw his sword: he simply punched Silas in the face.

The fainting spell so that she'd have an excuse to make "Pro" punch Silas... I love her. She really committed to everything <3

Wild speculation time: as a Lyctor, Cytherea has an unprecedented level of control over every cell of her body, including the cancer cells. Her body's "default state" is the terminal cancer she died with, but she's clearly able to tune it up and down. My pet theory is that the Eight House cancer is inherently necromantic in nature, so it becomes more costly to her to fine-tune it when she's actively doing necromancy, such as puppeteering Pro <- she's not faking the bout of pain, she is in pain, and still going for an Oscar. Who else is doing it like her

Magical restorative herbs Teacher had lying around

When Colum gets syphoned too hard, Teacher makes him sniff something. WHAT IS IT I desperately need to know what Teacher's herb garden looks like.

Have they been eating the Canaan House fish?

Speaking of Teacher's herb garden, the cold storage room at Canaan House includes meat and fish as well as vegetables.

Strings of startle-eyed, frozen fish with their scales and tails intact hung like laundry on lines above steel countertops, bewildering Gideon with the reality of what she had been eating.

This is interesting to me because it could say something about the status of the ocean near Canaan House regarding pollution / the state of Earth's fauna in general. I tend to take Taz literally when she said Nona took place over "a hundred thousand years and five days" and believe tens of thousands of years passed between the flashbacks and the Resurrection. The fauna being healthy enough to be eaten would match with that — not that the half life of nuclear waste means anything when you're God, but a hundred thousand years is definitely "safer" than ten thousand.

Babsʼs boyfriend

“I should’ve stayed home and gotten married,” he said resentfully. “As though anyone was even offering,” snapped Ianthe.

He had a lover boy back on Ida... I know this to be true

Third House power struggle

“How many people had these hatch keys other than the Ninth?” said Corona. “We had no idea the basement was even there.” (ten minutes later) “I am also in possession of one,” Ianthe said, unruffled. “What?”

I would read the whole book from Babs' POV. I think whatever was going on between the Tridentarii must have been incredibly fraught. Away from Ida, Corona's lie must be weighing on them like never before. Away from their court and family, I think Ianthe is going on the biggest power trip of their life. And Babs is there also.

Then later this happens

“At arms, Babs.” Her twin sister’s voice was thin and soft as silk: “Don’t unsheathe that sword, Naberius.” “Ianthe, what—are—you—doing.” “Well, Babs, thank God, has much better sense than to listen to you—Babs?”

The moment when Babs officially won't do what Corona says if Ianthe disagrees... Corona's shocked and saddened reaction... this is new for them. to me. and she doesn't like it. Ianthe meanwhile is letting out twenty-one years of quiet resentment

****

Anyway. TLDR! I'm enjoying this reread very much :3

[gideonisms]

sorry if i'm late! 🔥 Cytherea

Oh now here's something I DO have a controversial opinion about, which is that I do not like her one bit and it's not for the reasons people commonly list! in this series, everyone's committed a few murders and creeped on someone in a necromantic fashion. Those weren't my favorite houses anyway. rip but I didn't have much time to get attached. I have a lot of sympathy for anyone living in pain that long and having to speak to john gaius the whole time--or at least I would, if her personality wasn't specifically calculated to irritate me!!

I even understand her relevance to the plot and themes and theoretically I get the appeal of gideon/ cythere a. But every time she spoke to gideon I found myself vaguely annoyed wishing we could get back to other characters. I simply have a petty hatred that cannot be overcome. omg shut UP about Gideon's biceps. stop batting those eyelashes it looks stupid. "pretend I'm five and explain it to me" GOD could she be trying any harder. couldn't even get a personality of her own had to steal one from poor dulcie and didn't even do it right. cytherea hate club sorry

[arithmonym]

fic snippet <3 it’s dulcie time!!

[mistborn-bastard]

Sylvari | They/them | Bisexual

Pros: Their bodily fluids cause ecstasy Verse Enjoys experimenting

Cons: Extreme masochist, can't really feel you otherwise Will complain a lot if you don't make them feel enough Their heart is always leaking sap, it will make a mess

????: Enjoys having their chest hole fucked

[secretsofthewilde]

I'm still making my way through watching the show for the first time (just finished episode 5), so idk if this has already been spoken about yet on here at length, but I just wanted to quickly say how much I appreciate the character of Cath and the way the show handles her relationship with Dulcie (so far).

In another show I'd expect Cath to be the constant butt of the joke for being such an emotional and vulnerable person, and while it is definitely framed as comedic at times in this show, it's never done so in a condemning way. It's not a flaw of Cath's that she wants to be vulnerable in front of others, and it's also not something she forces onto other characters; Dulcie genuinely seems to care about Cath and appreciate this side to her and so she wants to be able to reciprocate Cath's vulnerability herself, which is why she goes to counselling with her and she goes along with the conflict resolving kissing. It's not a chore for Dulcie to do these things for Cath/their relationship (something that seems to be the norm when writing "free spirited" characters like Cath), but instead Dulcie actively engages in working on strengthening their relationship.

It's just really refreshing to see that the relationship conflict they're having so far is completely understandable given the circumstances, and that the both of them are taking the reasonable steps to communicate and try to work through it as partners. I genuinely believe that these two love each other! Which shouldn't be surprising, but it really is.

Also I think this was the first time I've ever seen somebody emptying a menstrual/moon cup on screen??? And that shouldn't feel groundbreaking, but it really did feel that way to me. I LOVED that opening scene of them being intimate and how realistically awkward but loving it was. It was also v relatable to me but something I never really expected to see on my screen.

Anyways I love Cath and the way they wrote a woman using the word "triggered" regularly when communicating her feelings, without overtly making fun of her for doing so