They Are So Insane For This

They are so insane for this

honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered

I am in awe

I hate her, but she is so vivid in my head 🙏🏻

Ianthe Tridentarius, the Saint of Awe. Look at me being back from the dead posting art of tumblr after having binged read the Locked Tomb series ✨💀

I haven’t actually finished Nona the Ninth tho so no spoilers plss (I have like 50 pages left, but I don’t want it to end ya feel me?)

There will definitely be more Locked Tomb art incoming btw so stay tuned!

(Tap on the pic for high quality and please do not repost without credit)

What in the name of Jod is even happening at this point

we're really playing musical chairs with bodies. ianthe ate babs and nicked his eyes, then harrow ate gideon and roomed together in chet harrowhark for a while, wake nipped over into cytherea's body for a bit but then got properly evicted, gideon the first and pyrrha were sharing for a while but now pyrrha's home alone, harrow left gideon the keys to house sit before ghosting her but then gideon somehow got reunited back with her original body so now nona's unknown soul is squatting in chet harrowhark, palamedes got a bit exploded so he's currently in a timeshare with camilla, and ianthe is in babs's body now. for some fucking reason.

Do you know, I could break beneath the weight

Of the goodness, love, I still care for you?

ME TOO

GRIDDLEHARK NATION ASSEMBLE

Has anyone ever made an edit to that one song “you with the dark curls you with the watercolor eyes” and if so can I PLEASE HAVE THE LINK

Someone who’s late for breakfast.

And she would say, idly, more as prayer than demand: “Have you worked out who I am?”

prints