six for the truth over solace in lies

(or: gideon and corona spend the night with each other)

“Gideon, please. You know why I’ve come to you.” And Gideon does. They’re here to distract each other, if only for just the night. That’s it, and all it ever will be.

(or: exiled witch harrow finds comfort in a newcomer)

In Gideon’s absence there lingers the faintest smell of smoke and leather; Harrow breathes it in deep and crushes the shreds of disappointment and regret that have already started to grow deep in her heart. She knows down to her bones that Gideon is—was—a hazard: it’s something about her smile and her eyes, or the timbre of her voice and the way she’d cataloged every inch of the tiny store with appreciation plain on her face. Gideon is a magi, Gideon is coven, so for both their sakes, this will be the first and last time that they’ll meet. So of course, that isn’t what fate has in store for them.

(or: kinktober 2022)

“If I really wanted to kill you…” Ianthe says, but it’s an empty threat, and they both know it. Gideon still plays along though, just like always. She moves back in again, smooth and fluid, pressing her body to Ianthe’s so they touch from thigh to chest and no higher. One of her cold, dead fingers traces the shape of Ianthe’s lips and it is so satisfying to drop her mouth open, just to see Gideon’s eyes widen and her smirk twitch higher.

(or: gideon matches with ianthe on tinder)

And Gideon is tipsy enough for that idea to be pretty damn tempting. She’s still half-sure that Ianthe is just fucking with her—but then she sends her address, and Gideon’s traitorous heart skips a beat as she connects two and two and comes up with four. Ianthe is being serious, and Ianthe is propositioning her with drinks and weed, which means that Ianthe wants her.

(or: palamedes decides to try something new with camilla)

When he eventually speaks, he keeps his voice low and firm, but Camilla can hear the fondness layered through each word. “We’re going to take things slow today, Cam. Call it…a lesson in restraint.”

(or: nona has her first drink)

“You’re tipsy,” Crown says through a smile, “I guess that’s my fault.”

(or: gideon gets into a barfight)

Gideon hardly misses a beat. “That’s just what happens when you’re this attractive. You go to a bar, you meet a hot girl, you get into a fight. Sometimes it’s just not in that order.”

(or: vampire hunter au)

Camilla nods, holding out her hand for Harrow to finally shake. “It’s just me and my cousin, and now you, if you want. We’re vampire hunters.”

(or: harrow gives into ianthe again)

Ianthe is a puzzle Harrow will never long to solve, an itch she will never scratch, and the second in the only pair of keys that would ever fit into the lock that is Harrow’s entire being. She will be bound to Harrow for perhaps forever, and soon Harrow actually craves her presence like a necromancer craves the stink of death. So when Ianthe says, “Let me try something,” all Harrow can do is nod and let herself be pushed down, gentle and clinical, onto the sheets of her own bed.

(or: camilla finds out she has more in common with gideon than she'd thought)

Camilla’s reassessment of Gideon goes a bit like this: she is hopeless sometimes, and quite frankly idiotic most times, but she is earnest, and endearing, and witty enough for them to establish dry banter that rivals that of Palamedes and Harrow. But those reactions, and the way her face goes a little slack when Harrow touches her, when Camilla speaks to her with an edge to her voice…she is a puzzle that Camilla is finding herself increasingly eager to solve.

(or: museum reincarnation au)

Pretty much everyone that comes to the museum leaves with memories seeping in—or comes back with tales on their lips of the things they’d begun to remember overnight. Pretty much everyone that has left a museum affected—everyone but Harrow.

(or: museum reincarnation au)

The word Griddle slips out on its own, so damn familiar even though she knows she’s never said it before. It’s always been her nickname for Gideon, Harrow knows instinctively, but that doesn’t make sense because she barely even tolerates Gideon most times. And she’s expecting Gideon to frown, or to ask what the hell that was (because even Harrow herself is asking that) but when she glances over at Gideon, she finds the softest kind of smile gracing her lips. Which means one of two things: either Gideon is as dumb as Harrow previously thought, or they’ve done this before.

(or: five times harrow pushes gideon away, and the one time she doesn't)

And everything is good. Everything is great, because even though they’ve never talked about it, Harrow has Gideon, and Gideon has her. But Harrow wants to demand the truth from Gideon’s lips when they are alone, she wants Gideon’s hand in hers when they are not. The strength of her desire is almost frightening sometimes, so Harrow swallows it down and pushes Gideon away and hopes that keeping her as a friend will be enough. And it is, it is. And then Gideon does the unthinkable, and asks her out.

(or: a very self indulgent vampire au)

So she keeps still as Ianthe’s hands wander down, down, down, and bites her lip to keep from whining when Harrow’s calloused fingertips trace against fading bruises and still-tender bite marks. Harrow has already had a year to learn every inch of Gideon’s body, but Ianthe figures her out in mere minutes.

keep reading here

(or: gideon teaches harrow to loosen up)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is twenty-five when she learns that the woman she loved for years and years has always belonged to another. And she is fine, she is working harder than ever, she is hiding the worsening shadows under her eyes with concealer, and her diet now consists mostly of coffee (black) and an unhealthy amount of protein bars, and after barely a week, Palamedes Sextus takes one long look at her before marching her to his office and forcing her into a chair. Enter Gideon Nav.

(or: harrow notices a girl at a party. said girl notices her too)

That smug grin comes back, a little faded around the edges as Gideon's gaze flits between Harrow's eyes, mouth, lower. "You know," she drawls, "we could always get out of here. Go upstairs. I'll give you the grand tour."