#silently’s bi crusade | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xvictorian-flowerx · 2 years

Text

JonaEri week 2022 Day 5: Adversity

(( I was planning to post it on Ao3 but I discovered you have to be invited and the queue is at least two week :,) So in the meanwhile I’m going to post it here))

Context: Phantom fates is a Au of mine created based on @vampire-joestar vampire Jonathan Au. As they promised to a vampire Jonathan transformed by Dio, Erina and Speedwagon lived their long human lives at the side of their beloved Jojo. But as they grew old to a venerable age, it was clear that Erina and Speedwagon would inevitably die in a close future, leaving Jojo alone. They knew Jonathan would still have Joseph and his family but they too would die eventually. Not wishing for Jonathan to go trough that cycle of grief alone, Erina goes to Speedwagon with the idea to use one of the remaining stone masks to turn themselves into vampires. They were supposed to transforms at the same time after Speedwagon finish dealing with stuff at the SPW foundation but Erina felt death coming soon and had to transforms in 1950. (Speed transforms in 1952). During the mid 1980's, Erina and Jonathan where blessed with their second child, Giorno Edward Joestar. Despite them being vampires, Giorno was born human. Giorno was born with his papa blue hair but it started to turn blond as Jonathan developed a stand. But as Dio came back, so came the Stand curse. Both Giorno and Holly were terribly inflicted by it. Jonathan went with the crusaders, Erina stayed in japan with her medical team to take care of Holly and Giorno and Speedwagon went back to his foundation to help monitor the crusaders.

The house was silent, the few occupants having gone to sleep. Everyone but Erina. Being a vampire, she did not need to sleep, although it was something she regularly indulges in to give her a semblance of humanity. The bedroom she was in was only lit up by a single night lamp, giving an orange hue to the room. More medical equipment had been brought for Giorno and Holly as their condition continued to worsen. Erina raised her eyes from the medical book she was reading and looked at her son and great granddaughter with a pained expression. It had been weeks now since the curse had inflicted them and Jonathan and the others left to find Dio. Their body and spirit had been resilient so far but they were starting to become more and more ill. Erina took Giorno tiny hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“ Just hang out a little bit more Sunshine, papa and the others are going to make things right and you will be all better. He will not take you, not you too…”

A tear rolled down Erina's cheek. She was fully aware that Giorno had not for long and would most likely die before Holy did. Perhaps it was due to him being a young child, maybe it was because he got sick before Holly or maybe it was due to the fact that he was a more direct descendant to Jonathan than Holy. All that Erina knew was that her little boy was about to die and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing a second child to Dio. Suddenly the phone in the room started to ring. The vampire quickly picked up the phone, not wishing the ringing to wake up anybody in the house. Who was calling in the middle of the night anyway?

“You have reached the Kujo residence. The family is absent for the moment, may I take your message”

“Oh Granny it’s you! I was expecting Suzi to answer.” Came Joseph 's voice from the phone.

“Joseph! I am relieved to hear from you! Suzi has been asleep for a moment I’m afraid. Do you want me to wake her up?” Erina asked.

“Right, the time zones, I forgot about them. No need to wake her up, just tell her me and the others are alright. We just arrived in Egypt and we will start traveling north to Cairo shortly. If everything goes right we should be there by the end of the day. How is Holy and Giorno fairing?”

“Not good I am afraid. We had to put Holly on a ventilator two days ago and her fever has gotten higher. Her heartbeat is stable but a bit slow, nothing alarming for the moment however. We are keeping a close eye on it.”

“And what about Giorno?”

“…”

“Granny?”

“Joseph… Could you pass me to your grandfather if he is with you? I need to talk to him about Giorno”

“Of course.”

Erina heard Joseph call Jonathan name and some shuffling before her husband picked up the phone.

“Hello dear, you wanted to talk to me?” Came Jonathan 's voice.

Hearing his voice brought comfort to Erina, she had not heard of him in weeks, only hearing about the progress from Robert as the Speedwagon foundation was monitoring the crusaders. Erina wished she could be at their side to help, but she knew Giorno and Holly needed her. Beside, there was only one super Aja stone and Jonathan was using it to be protected from the sun.

“Yes… I need to talk to you about Giorno state and I do not bring good news…”

“Go on…”

Erina looked at Giorno. The beeping of the heart rate monitor would be annoying to someone but for Erina it was comforting, a reminder that the child was still clinging to life. He looked so tiny and frail under all the medical equipment that helped him stay alive. It pained Erina to no end to see her son like this. Gods, she could already feel the tears forming her eyes before she even started to explain the situation to Jonathan.

“Giorno… Giorno is not going to last for long. His fever has reached dangerous levels and even with the ventilator he struggles to breath. Jonathan, yesterday he… he flatlined…”

“H-he what? Is he-?”

“We brought him back!” Exclaimed the woman, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. “Giorno is still alive but…”

The vampire broke down into a sob as she recalled the event of yesterday.

“It took everything to reanimate him! I really thought we were going to lose him! If that wasn’t of Emily’s quick thinking he would have…I was not even at his side when his heart stopped. I was in the garden and if it weren’t for the fact I’m a vampire, I would have never have heard the monitor alarm! Thank god she was there! I would have never forgiven myself if he had died!”

“Erina…”

“He won’t survive if his heart stops a second time. It’s painful seeing him closer to death’s door every day. I can’t bear losing a child, not a second time!”

Jonathan was unable to speak a word as he listened to his wife's heart wrenching sobs. There were so many things he wanted to say but the feeling of guilt and failure were like two hands over his mouth, keeping him from speaking. Last night's dream was still haunting him. A child version of George was asking why he abandoned him to die and why he was doing the same to his little brother. The scene quickly had changed for George and Giorno laying dead at Dio's feet who was sitting on a throne, taunting Jonathan; “How many members of your family will I be able to kill before you finish me off for good hmm~? Oh but let us not fool ourselves, I WILL have the time to kill every last one of them because you are too weak to finish me! I will rise from ashes again and again and you will continue to carry your shame for eternity!”

The worst part is, he was right. Dio would never stop targeting his family. All because he had been careless during the Windknight battle and Dio escaped, robbing him of his humanity at the same time.

“I…I made a decision” Erina said with a shaky voice. “I know you will disagree with it so I will not go through if you do not approve of it, but it might save Giorno if the worst were to happen.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“If…” Erina hesitated “If Giorno were to flatline again and before it is too late, I will use my healing blood on him. He will most likely become a vampire because of this. I know vampirism is something that you would never wish on anyone, it was different for Robert and me as it was our own choice, but I am running out of options to save him. I am aware it will not be his decision and it will be forced on him like it was for you. If he grows up hating me for turning him into a vampire then so be it. I prefer to have a child that will hate me than a dead child.”

“…”

“Jonathan?”

“I never wished for Giorno to become a vampire. I wanted him to live a fulfilling human life and enjoy every moment of it, but I agree. I can’t bear the thought of losing him as well. If it comes to that, we will be there to guide him to this new life.”

“I plan on doing the same to Holy, but I will not take this decision. Joseph, Suzi Q and Jotaro will be the one to decide. Suzi Q needs time to think about it. Can you talk about this to Joseph and Jotaro?”

“Of course, but Erina?”

“Yes dear?” She replied.

“We are almost there, they will be saved and soon they will get better. Please trust us”

“You know I already do Jojo” Erina said, a fond smile forming on her lips.

_____

Bonus drawing of the Phantom Fates family being happy before the stand curse to recover from the sad 🥺.

#jonaeri week 2022 #JonaEriweek2022 #erina joestar #erina pendleton #jonathan joestar #jojo #jjba #jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #phantom blood #jojo part 1 #Phantom Fates Au

3 notes · View notes

sass-and-suspenders · 4 years

Text

Abogato

GIF from whatbarisiwore

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to Dopplegänger, but you don’t need to have read it to understand this story

It would take a single glance inside Rafael’s home office to know he was stressed. If the wastebasket overflowing with crumpled pieces of paper, the haphazardly stacked files across the desk and floor, or the bottle of scotch running precariously low didn’t give it away, then the rumpled, sleep-deprived prosecutor behind the desk certainly would.

Rafael was casually dressed, his weekend commute consisting solely of a walk from the bedroom to the kitchen to your shared office, but tension radiated off him. He had been hunched over a legal pad for hours struggling to write a closing argument. His latest case had been difficult, not to mention high-profile, with the defense matching each of his small victories with their own. Rafael knew the verdict rested on his closing argument and he was determined to make it perfect.

Setting down his gold pen, Rafael ran a hand through his hair and looked over what he had so far. The page was filled with scribbled out sentences, shorthand notes exploding from the margin, and a doodle of a grumpy stick figure wearing a tie (which you would later cut out and put on the fridge). Despite the mess, Rafael managed to cobble together an introduction.

He reached for his coffee, aware that he had hours of work ahead, and was surprised to discover it was warm. You must have swapped out his stale mug of coffee with a fresh one without him realizing. Ever since your relationship began, you had taken care of him: draping a blanket over him whenever he fell asleep on the couch, bringing him food when he worked late so he wasn’t forced to survive on the saccharine contents of office vending machines, coaxing him to bed whenever countless witness testimonies and police reports left him unable to see straight.

He cherished these small, often silent, gestures, but what he loved most was sliding into bed beside you at night and waking up next to you in the morning. Without a doubt, asking you to move in with him had been the best decision he ever made. The change in the apartment was evident the minute you unpacked: you filled the space with warmth and love.

As well as numerous cat toys.

When Rafael asked you to live with him, he hadn’t fully considered what it would be like to share the apartment with a third roommate: your grey tabby. It would be safe to describe Rafael’s relationship with your cat (christened Rafaelito much to Rafael’s displeasure) as one of tolerance. Rafael tolerated finding cat toys in his briefcase. He tolerated cat hair on his expensive suits. He even tolerated the occasional hairball that managed to fall directly inside one of his shoes (and never, if he were to think about it, in one of yours).

And Rafaelito, well, he tolerated Rafael’s existence.

In between sips of coffee, Rafael looked over his introduction. As he read the words aloud, trying to find the right rhythm, Rafaelito strutted into the room. The tabby immediately noticed the lawyer behind the desk and shot him a withering glare, making Rafael feel as if he were the interloper. When it became clear Rafael had no intention of leaving, Rafaelito made his way around the desk, pausing beside Rafael’s chair, in order to glare at him in close proximity.

“Vete,” Rafael ordered, not bothering to look up from his papers, as he waved his hand towards the door. “I’m working.”

The tabby tilted his head, feigning ignorance. How convenient, Rafael thought, that the language barrier seemed non-existent whenever words like ‘dinner’ or ‘treats’ were called out in English or Spanish.

The standoff lasted a few more seconds before Rafaelito jumped onto the prosecutor’s lap, using him as a springboard to get onto the desk. The sudden impact caused the contents of the mug Rafael was holding to go flying, sending droplets of coffee all over him and the papers on his desk.

After a string of expletives and confirming that the damage to his files was superficial, Rafael turned his attention to his sullied sweater. As he blotted at the stains, Rafael scowled at the tabby (whom he had witnessed make the jump from the floor to the desk numerous times before) and calculated the odds that your beloved pet was a sociopath.

The fuzzy sociopath in question was stretched out across multiple folders bathing in a sunbeam. If it wasn’t for the destruction the cat had just caused, Rafael would have described the scene as cute. Adorable, even.

Feeling a sudden surge of benevolence, Rafael decided to let the tabby stay while he worked. After all, you did always mention that cats can reduce stress levels (although Rafael wasn’t sure whether that included Machiavellian grey tabbies). The only hitch to the peaceful work environment Rafael envisioned was Rafaelito sleeping on his legal pad.

Slowly, Rafael reached out for the pad, naively thinking that he could pull it out from under Rafaelito without him noticing. His fingers didn’t even graze the paper before the tabby’s green eyes popped open and narrowed at Rafael’s impending invasion of his space. With a flick of his paw, Rafaelito sent the lawyer’s gold pen flying over the edge of the desk.

Rafael huffed, mentally adding a check mark to the sociopath column.

As he bent down to retrieve the pen, Rafael could feel the tabby smirking at him. Drawing inspiration from Indiana Jones, Rafael picked up the pen with his left hand as he simultaneously snatched the legal pad with his right. The immense satisfaction he felt at wiping the smug look off of Rafaelito’s face was diminished by the knowledge that his opponent in this battle of wits was a cat.

“Truce?” Rafael offered.

The tabby huffed, considering himself the victor in his crusade against the Harvard-educated lawyer, but returned to his nap, leaving Rafael and the valuables on his desk alone (at least for now).

With an armistice in place, Rafael returned his attention to his closing statement and found that words were flowing more freely from his pen. The showdown with Rafaelito had the unintended consequence of helping him overcome the writer’s block that had plagued him all weekend. For the next couple hours, the only sounds in the room were Rafael’s pen scratching against paper and the tabby’s unusually loud snoring.

When Rafael finally set down his pen, he had filled a dozen pages with his cramped scrawl. As he flipped through them, he heard the muted sounds of the television. Rafael shoved aside the temptation to join you, reasoning that it was better to finish this now rather than have to pull himself away from you later.

Rafael sighed, tearing his thoughts away from you, and leaned back in his chair. He began murmuring the summation under his breath, careful not to disturb the sleeping tabby. Every so often, he would pause to debate his word choice, remaining oblivious that the snoring had stopped long ago. It was only at the end of the speech, when he was interrupted by an assertive meow, that Rafael realized he had an audience.

His eyes flicked up from the page to find the tabby in front of him.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to interrupt?” Rafael chided before resuming his speech.

The tabby meowed again.

And then a third time because Rafael hadn’t immediately acknowledged him.

“What? What do you want?” Rafael asked, setting aside his legal pad. He clasped his hands in front of him and turned his full attention to the cat on his desk. The beginnings of a frown played on Rafael’s lips; he was so close to being done, to getting to enjoy the last sliver of the weekend with you, and had no patience for further disruptions. Especially those caused by sassy tabbies.

Rafaelito meowed in response, his tail curling around his front paws.

“I don’t know what that means.” Rafael ignored the look the cat shot him. A look that, you would have pointed out, was eerily similar to the one Rafael gave Carisi whenever the lanky detective offered unsolicited legal advice. “Do you want scritches? Trea-“?

The cat meowed again, cutting Rafael off.

“What did I say about interrupting?” Rafael asked, his eyes narrowing at the tabby. “If you want attention, go see Mamá. I’m work-”

Rafaelito interjected again.

“Don’t take that tone with-“

And then again.

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Clearly, your cat lacked the basic manners needed for polite conversation and, short of removing him from the office (an action that would undoubtedly spark retaliation in the form of hairballs in shoes), Rafael wasn’t sure what else he could do. Whoever claimed that cats lowered stress levels was a charlatan and Rafael was tempted to prosecute them for fraud. He tried to recall the feeling of serenity his apartment once held, but his reverie was cut short by a string of meows.

Without thinking, Rafael meowed right back.

Rafaelito paused mid-meow, stunned at this new development, and stared at the lawyer with wide eyes. After a few seconds, he let out a tentative, almost questioning meow. Rafael responded in kind and soon a volley of meows in varying pitches and volumes could be heard in the office.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt when movement near the door caught Rafelito’s attention. Rafael followed the cat’s gaze to find you standing in the doorway, holding a plate of banana bread and trying not to laugh.

“I thought you might be hungry,” you said when Rafael noticed you. “But I’m obliviously interrupting something important.”

“I was practicing my summation.”

Rafaelito meowed in confirmation.

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” you smirked, walking over to Rafael. You kissed him softly then set down the banana bread in front of him. He popped a piece in his mouth before replying.

“You didn’t let me finish. I was practicing my summation until your cat,” Rafael paused to gesture to the tabby who was the pure picture of innocence. “Interrupted me.”

“Mm-hmm.” You bit back a smile. Rafael could complain about the cat all he wanted, but you knew he had a soft spot for Rafaelito. You’d often catch your boyfriend giving Rafaelito treats or making room for him on the sofa or in bed. There were probably more photos of the tabby on his phone than there were of you.

“You know,” you continued, ignoring Rafael’s feeble explanation. “You really shouldn’t be meowing at him. You don’t know what you’re saying -it could be something inappropriate or offensive. As an ADA, you wouldn’t want to be charged with a feline-y.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Hate speech is a misdemeanour.”

“Fine. Do what you know what is a felony, though?” You asked, barely concealing your glee.

“Don’t, cariño,” Rafael warned. He knew you well enough to know where this was going.

“Purr-jury!”

“If you’re going to continue to make cat puns, you need to leave.”

“Really? Is there a claws about that in our lease?”

“Out,” Rafael said flatly, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. How’s the closing argument coming along?” You leaned against the edge of the desk, facing Rafael. Displeased at all the attention the prosecutor was getting, Rafaelito trotted over and headbutted your hand, his way of demanding scritches.

“Almost done. I’m just reading it over.”

“Do you want another audience member? It might be helpful to have a human perspective in addition to the feline one.” Rafael narrowed his eyes at you. “Oh, c’mon, that wasn’t even a pun!”

Rafael harrumphed, but began his speech, speaking as if he were in front of a jury. You listened intently, nodding occasionally. Yet another thing you did for him: you let him run his arguments by you, always giving him your full attention. You were the only one who could listen to him agonize over word choice at length without complaining or considering homicide.

For the most part, Rafaelito remained quiet, content to receive scritches from you. It was only when Rafael reached the conclusion that he let out another meow. Before Rafael could admonish the tabby, who evidently didn’t learn his lesson about interrupting, you spoke up.

“Hm, yeah, you’re right,” you addressed Rafaelito before turning to your boyfriend. “This part is a little clunky.”

“What? That’s not…How did you know that he…It’s not clunky,” Rafael sputtered, looking from you to Rafaelito.

“We have a very smart cat, Rafa. In fact, he’s so smart that he could be your co-counsel. An abogato, if you will.” You grinned, showing no remorse for your bad pun.

Rafael crossed his arms and shot you a pointed look.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist! I’ll take Rafaelito, so you can work in peace.”

“Thanks, cariño. Te amo.”

“Love you, too,” you smiled at Rafael before calling to the tabby. “C’mon, Rafaelito, let’s leave Papi alone and go watch some trashy reality TV.”

Knowing his work was done, the tabby jumped off the desk and strolled into the hallway. You followed after him, winking at Rafael before closing the door behind you.

Alone in his office, Rafael finished off the banana bread while he read over the conclusion again.

“Coño,” Rafael muttered under his breath. “It is clunky.”

Tag list: @madpanda75 @obsessionprofessional @madkingcrowley @im-like-reallythirsty @burningg-red @nikkijmorgan @misssirenlove @zoeykaytesmom @mommakat32 @thatesqcrush @southern-magnolia @evee87

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #barba x reader #barba x you #law & order svu #svu

152 notes · View notes

zakthefiend · 4 years

Text

My Eldar Headcanons

(BEFORE YOU READ THIS, KNOW I’M RELATIVELY NEW TO THE HOBBY AND HAVE ONLY RECENTLY BEGUN READING THE BOOKS AND CODEX. These are just some silly thoughts I had on the enigmatic but prideful race of space elves in 40k. All five factions!)

Aeldari as a whole:

There’s no LGBT organization since there never was a need for one. Due to the extended lifespans and being practically the oldest continuing race(besides necrons and orkz), they pretty much don’t care about sexuality. Gay, straight, bi, pan, ace, doesn’t matter to them one bit!

This also includes genders identification. They live for over a millennia, they have the time to not care about something that really isn’t bothersome.

Martial arts and duels are the most popular past time for any Aeldari. The sight of weapons clashing and fists flying has been a favored past time for them.

Philosophy and deep thinking is an natural quality they all share. You will not find a race better at poetic thought than the Aeldari.

The pride they still cling too is not unfounded. They are still the only ones to have wraithbone technology, they are the most psychically powerful species, have mastered the art of war beyond Millennia, and had the entire galaxy in the palms of their hands. They also still hold influence for a majority of the webway.

Ynnari are both a blessing and a curse to the eyes of the elves. One hand, they could lead them to a new era of salvation. Other hand, doom their species to complete and utter destruction. It’s a gamble, and this species is very adamant of taking any anymore.

Asuryani(Craftworld Eldar):

Not one Craftworld is the same as the other. Sure the core idea of Asuryani are the same, but years drifting in the void has added much more different traditions and practices. Biel-Tan, the most militaristic of the Craftworlds, probably have a heavy support to the military and has the most willing fighters in the Craftworld. Saim-hann meanwhile, probably prefer to race and show off their speed however way they can.

There are still festivities and celebrations on the Craftworlds, their just not as big as grand as say a Drukhari party. To avoid Slaanesh, excess in anything is restrained as possible, and you can enjoy yourself as long as you don’t have TOO much fun. They try to find the balance between the two, but end up constricting it’s people to tightly.

Those who follow the path of a warrior are treated similarly to celebrities. This has caused many who want fame and recognition to go down the paths. You can imagine how much they change after actually going through with it. These same new bloods are given another chance to leave. They don’t allow those simply seeking fame and admiration instead of duty.

When Asuryani want to have sex, they have a special circlet that dampens the psychic presence they have to Tau levels of existence. It takes time to get used to, so it’s more common for insemination to be used instead. Still, the child cannot be brought in until the spirit stone has been prepared.

Minor Craftworlds(Craftworlds half the size of average Craftworlds) are much more likely to be raided, attacked, or pillaged. Those same ones are found going through the Webway more, escorted by Corsairs, or cutting deals with the Imperium than the usual ones. Don’t be fooled! They are still powerful vessels that would require some serious firepower to take out!

Asuryani are the most adamant on joining Yvrainne and her crusade. They’re goal is to survive, and joining the Ynnari is something they just risk. Only the exodites are more refusing.

Drukhari(Dark Eldar):

You know Victorian England? That’s the Drukhari. Except add metal music too. They believe in being the most upstanding individual in the most blatantly corrupt society. By being the absolute worst individuals imaginable.

Bondage resembling the movie hellraiser in public? Sure! Holding hands and showing affections? SCANDALOUS!

They are the true remnants of the Aeldari empire. Despite your opinion, they are the ones with the most technology from their empire, they were a legitimate faction in the empire, and they still follow customs from the empire. Since they are the ones that remember the customs(their cult customs) had done.

A kabal, coven, and cult will support each other just as much as they are willing to try and kill each other. They can’t outright since each faction has something that is incredibly precious to the Drukhari. Coven: Biological and Scientific manipulation, Cults: Entertainment and scout knowledge(A wych cult were the first to discover the Tyranids for the Drukhari), and Kabals: Military and order.

Cults, Kabals, and Covens bring in slaves but never the same type. Wyches will take as many type of species as they can, Kabals LOVE to take high ranking individuals to play with, and Covens will find the strongest just to fuck with.

They still believe in their gods, but not as much as the others might. Khaine being popular with the wyches, but the others tend to do their own things instead of listening or wasting time on serving a dead god.

Nobles still exist, but their power and influence have diminished almost entirely. Very few even retain some aspects of their previous power.

Despite the daemonic incursions, infighting, chaos warbands, imperial might, and Tyranid invasions, the Drukhari are the most likely to outlast the other Eldars.

Corsairs(Pirate Eldar):

The most likely type of eldar to meet. As well as the most honest of their kin, since as long as you don’t cross them you’ll be fine. Human relationships are better... but only as much as you can expect from the xenophobic Imperium.

They have seen the most of the galaxy, and yet, they have barely found the entirety of the galaxy’s secrets.

They were the first Eldars to discover the Tyranids that enter the galaxy, but it was only in hushed whispers and rumors. Originally just some species of space whales or a new kind of daemon than what the galaxy will soon learn.

They are by fat, the best fliers and maneuvers in the galaxy. No other species can match their speed and agility as they fly across the stars. You need to get to somewhere quickly and safely? Get a corsair!

They are the bulk of Yvraine’s fleet and soldiers. After all, everything is coming to the end... why not go out swinging?

Adventurers, pirates, mercenaries, their whatever they need to be when it comes to the job. Mon’keigh, Tau, Asuryani, even Drukhari, if there’s adventure and excitement(and a bit of coin never hurt anyone), they’ll be sure to do it!

Exodites(Tribal Eldar):

The only level of tech their willing to go to is basic black powder. No steampunk or western style eldar, Your more likely to find Neolithic to Medieval Exodites with them.

Everything is done with the bare minimum and done quietly to avoid the humans from discovering them. They’ve adapted to their own worlds, such as traveling silently by trees in dense forests or moving under the sands in dune worlds.

They do keep an advanced transmitter so to get help from a Craftworld or a passing by Corsair fleet if the world is too far gone to be habitable or they’ve been incredibly compromised. Look to what Vulkan did to the last Exodites on a planet for a better understanding...

Hit and run tactics, guerrilla warfare, scouting, and guides through death worlds, Exodites are widely used by other Aeldari in search through forgotten ruins or lost cities all decayed to almost dust. They avoid them as they were what brought their fall, and will allow the others to repeat the same lesson that they clearly haven’t learned.

Some have dinosaurs, others have large birds of prey, kraken sized squids, and pretty much any other beast of burden to aid them. Dinosaurs are just more well known because every species can agree that dinos are cool.

Harlequin(Clown Eldar):

When you see one running, probably best to run with that one. They’re never too far from showing a performance or from danger either! Expect a surprise no matter what the outcome!

The only eldar that are given passage anywhere due to how strange yet entrancing they are. Their arrival means a play will begin! However, what play that will be, entertainment or for bloodshed, is only found out too late. Be weary around them!

They speak in rhymes and poetry. This also includes anecdotes, haiku, hand gestures, charades(really good at those), or with tarot cards. The meaning being shrouded by mystery that only few have managed to figure out BEFORE it was executed...

If you haven’t guessed yet, they’re the most mysterious of the eldars. WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING WITH ALL THIS SHROUDED MYSTERY FOR THEIR ENTIRE RACE! Sorry, got my gripe at how much more lore there is for Space Marines than... well anyone else really. To the topic! It is said they also reside in the webways like the Drukhari, but in more remote regions that not even they know!

The most flexible species in the galaxy. While much can be thanked by the gravity belt around their waist, they can still bend and flex in ways that could break your mind! Great for distractions, no denial there!

Their also the best dancers, play performers, artists, story tellers, and the most colorfully dressed Eldars as well! They could do an entire play of the Horus Heresy to PERFECT detail, but choose not to since humans wouldn’t like the thought of their god being a massive dick. They also purposely screw up a part in a play so not to give Slaanesh power from their performance. Only their god, Cegorach, may have their energy.

#eldar #Craftworld #dark eldar #drukhari #corsair #corsairs #exodite #harlequin #aeldari #space elves #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000

42 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

With Great Power - Chapter 4

Title: With Great Power – Chapter 4

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | AO3

Fic summary: Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU.

Chapter Word Count: 3377

Chapter warnings: mention of death, panic attack, lying, cursing, nausea, dizziness, risky and unsafe behavior (and encouragement of it)

A/N: Hi hello it’s been too long. But the Big Deal Real Life Time Sucking Thing has been turned in and hopefully I will have some more free time on my hands. ^u^ This chapter had some surprises for me as a writer, so I hope you find it enjoyable! Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

Tags: @captain-loki-xavier, @human-dictionary @the-peculiar-bi-tch @mining-pup @band-be-boss-blog @asexual-trashbag @samathekittycat @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @theobsessor1 @always3charcoaltea @changeling-ash @logical-princey @crimsonshadow323 @flickering-raven @smokeyrutilequartz @dontbugmeimantisocial @soijusthavetoask @marvelfangeek09 @princelogical @creativenostalgiastuff @vigilantvirgil

…

Later that night, Thomas lays on his bed in the dark and stares up at the flat ceiling of his bedroom. Dodie’s newest EP floats through the air softly—he’d turned it on with the perhaps hypocritical hope that listening to his friend’s music would help him feel better about avoiding, well… his friends.

Once the news started showing stills of him in his scarf and sweatshirt—most of them mercifully blurry—with the anchors musing about who the stranger may be, Thomas had switched off the TV. He really wished they’d focus more on the kid, or even the guys that tried to take him. Anything but their apparent crusade to identify “Spider-Man”.

Turning off the TV, unfortunately, did very little to assuage the churning in his stomach. The events of the day flashed through his mind in broken fragments. The woman crying out for her kid, the wide and fearful eyes magnified by the glasses on the kid’s nose looking at him through the rear windshield, the snarl of contempt from the driver of the vehicle…

Thomas sighs and scrubs a hand across his eyes. The alarm clock on the nightstand politely informs him that it’s nearly 2 in the morning. He wonders bitterly if there is anything more frustrating than being utterly exhausted and still unable to sleep. His body feels like lead but his mind is still running through the events of the day like a highlight reel.

“This isn’t working,” he mutters aloud to himself. He takes a breath as if it will ease the churning in his stomach. Closing his eyes, he reaches through his mind with the probing thought.

Virge?

A sigh that isn’t exactly Thomas’s own echoes in his head. Yeah, Thomas, comes Virgil’s voice, sounding unsurprised. One sec.

The host opens his eyes again and blinks at the ceiling that he’d been stuck to just earlier this morning. Was that really just this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago. Dodie’s “Monster” gives way to “Arms Unfolding” but it’s little comfort alone in the dark. A moment later, Thomas hears the familiar whoosh and glances over to see Virgil standing beside his bed. His hood is pulled up over his purple hair and his hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his patched hoodie.

It’s hard to see his eyes in the dark under the hood and shaggy bangs, but from the slight duck to his head, Thomas knows he’s avoiding his gaze.

The internet personality sits up and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m getting the feeling that you need to talk.”

Virgil lifts a noncommittal shoulder. “Logan already tried.” He nudges sock-clad feet against the Virgil 2.0 sweatshirt in a heap on the floor. Tension is etched carefully into every crevice of Virgil; evident, even in the dark.

Thomas looks at him patiently, shifting over slightly to make room. “Today was a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Virgil snaps. His gaze flickers up to the vacated space on the bed. He sits gingerly on the very edge of it, as if he’s ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“So talk to me.”

Another long pause. It’s filled only with the soft, melodic sound of Dodie’s voice and the background whir of the apartment’s AC unit. The glow of the alarm clock’s red numbers does little in the way of light, and the darkness of the room so late at night seems to only amplify the silence between them. It stretches. For a moment, Thomas thinks Virgil isn’t going to say anything.

Then: “We could have actually, really died today.” Virgil’s words ring crystal clear and heavy in the dark. With it comes a tightening in Thomas’s chest. Virgil continues, the double vocalization leaking into his words. Amplifying them. “And don’t come at me with that ‘cognitive distortions’ crap. Not this time, Thomas. You know I’m right.”

Thomas can feel his heartbeat picking up in his chest and he takes in a deep breath through his nose. He holds it for a second, then releases it slowly through his mouth. He sees Virgil close his eyes as Thomas does it again. Virgil nods a silent thanks.

“But we didn’t,” Thomas replies softly as he feels the wave of panic brought on by that initial realization abates a little.

Virgil scoffs. “That’s kind of beside the point. We were in way over our heads.”

“But it turned out okay in the end.”

“Because we got lucky!” Virgil meets Thomas’s gaze for the first time tonight, his dark eyes cutting sharply through the space between them. “In fact, we got lucky a lot today. Lucky that we stuck to the car. Lucky that we caught the kid when he was about to faceplant into pavement going 45 miles per hour. Lucky that we got off the car when we needed to, that the driver didn’t have a gun or something, that nobody got a decent picture of you. The list goes on!”

Thomas is quiet for a moment, looking at Virgil carefully. At the tight clench to his jaw, the harsh glower from under his bangs, the aggression sketched into the edge of his stare. Thomas softens a little. “You’re right,” he says, and Virgil blinks at him, disarmed at the agreement. “We dove headfirst into a fight that wasn’t really ours in the first place.”

Virgil nods slowly. “Yeah…”

“So…Why?” Thomas tilts his head curiously as he asks.

Virgil arches an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

The host sits up a little more, speaking as his thoughts come to him in a slow progression of understanding. “I mean… you’re my fight or flight, right? You said so yourself.”

Virgil rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze again, favoring instead to focus on a picture of some of Thomas’s friends he’d had framed on his nightstand. “Right. I… I guess.”

Thomas is watching him closely as the thoughts begin to click into place. “If the fight wasn’t ours in the first place, if we were in way over our head, if the odds were most likely against us… why did you choose fight, Virgil?”

Virgil looks startled for a moment. “I…” the thought is left unfinished.

He huffs a breath and shoves a hand back through his hair. It knocks the hood off his head. Virgil doesn’t seem to notice or has decided he doesn’t care. Thomas doesn’t press him any further. Even in the dark, he can see the flicker of his eyes as he thinks back to that split-second decision.

“Because they were in danger,” Virgil says quietly. Simply. His eyes are abruptly wide. Afraid. “I didn’t think. They were danger, and I just… threw us headfirst into a fight we could have lost.” Thomas feels his chest seize suddenly, alarm surging up his throat as Virgil’s voice takes on a sudden and intense distortion. “You must hate me.”

“Whoa, whoa. No.” His breathing is getting faster. Thomas’s hands fist around the blanket across his lap as if it will ground him. “Virgil, you gotta—” His throat closes up with panic.

“I know! I know. I’m sorry, I—in for four seconds, Thomas.”

Thomas screws his eyes shut and focuses on his breathing. In through the nose for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, out through the mouth for eight. Repeat. Repeat again. Repeat a fourth time. He can hear Virgil breathing slowly with him.

“I don’t hate you,” Thomas says after a few minutes, when he’s felt his heart slowing back down and his throat doesn’t feel as tight. “I’m… actually really proud of you.”

Virgil’s eyes flit back up to Thomas’s. “Yeah?” The distortion is gone, but Virgil sounds smaller somehow.

Thomas smiles faintly. “Yeah. I mean… us running towards danger to help someone else instead of away from it? I’ve always wanted to think that I’d be that kind of person.” He nudges Virgil’s shoulder with his foot. “Now I know I am.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirks for the briefest moment, then it disappears. He looks away. “I’m supposed to protect you, Thomas,” he says. “Running you straight into a fight isn’t exactly keeping you from harm. It’s pretty much exactly the opposite of that.”

“I don’t know about that,” Thomas says gently, thinking back through moments of the fight in the parking lot. His muscles ache slightly from the memory, but something more important sticks out. “I seem to remember a voice sounding an awful lot like yours telling me to duck before I would’ve taken a fist to the face.”

Virgil snorts. “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck and glances at Thomas. He makes a face. “Honestly that was a little weird, right?”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t even know what made me yell that at you. I just had this sudden, intense feeling that you needed to duck. I didn’t know why.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “It was weird. But I’m kinda glad for it. A bloody nose isn’t exactly a becoming look on you.”

“Huh.” Thomas turns Virgil’s words over in his head for a moment. “Do you think it’s related to all the other, um… weird stuff?”

Virgil looks at him. “I don’t know. It might be?” He sighs. “Though ‘all the other weird stuff’ also hasn’t been helping with the whole…” He waves a hand vaguely.

Thomas huffs a suddenly exhausted laugh, not needing any further explanation from his Anxious Side. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I get what you mean. We don’t know what’s happened to me, or… even what I’m able to do. And that’s…”

“Unsettling,” Virgil finishes for him. Thomas nods.

Distantly, the internet personality hears a car roll by on wet pavement down the street outside of his apartment. His eyes drift around the room, lingering on the corner of his room by the closet. The same place he’d managed to get himself stuck to the ceiling. Maybe figuring some way to have better control—to not stick to walls and ceilings unless he wanted to, like when he stuck to the car—and exploring these new… abilities (powers? Thomas doesn’t know what to call them) would help.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Thomas says carefully, “we can go… experiment a little. In a controlled environment.”

Virgil’s lips quirk up into a smile. “You sound like Logan.”

Thomas laughs and runs a hand down his face. “Yeah. It’s probably his idea. But what do you think?”

Virgil nods once. “I think it’s a good one.”

“Good.” He pauses as Virgil pushes up from his position on the bed. “Good night, Virgil.”

The Anxious Side gives him a small two-fingered salute as he sinks out. “G’night, Thomas.”

…

Thomas hits the cement floor hard and grimaces at the jarring impact, his shoulder taking the brunt of it. He groans and coughs a little before rolling to his feet. He pushes sweaty bangs out of his eyes and squints up at the window at the very top of the warehouse wall. Dusty, late afternoon sunlight filters through the small window and the piles of shipping containers cast long, dark shadows in the dimly lit building.

Thomas had found the warehouse on the outskirts of Gainesville the morning after his talk with Virgil, and he’d been coming here every day for almost a week. Two days ago, he’d tweeted out that he was feeling under the weather—and texted Joan and Camden about it—and tried to ignore just how much his stomach twisted uncomfortably with the knowledge that he was now lying to his fanbase as much as he was lying to his friends.

He’d been trying not to think about it.

“On a scale from 1 to 10,” Logan’s measured voice cuts into his thoughts, “how would you rate the effect of that impact on your body’s physical capabilities?”

“All right, Baymax,” Roman quips from where he’s leaned against a shipping container. “You could just ask him if he’s hurt, like a normal person.”

Thomas rolls his shoulder a couple of times, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “About the same as every other time I’ve crash-landed this week,” he says lightly. “So a little winded, but nothing that bad.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow from where he stands a few feet away, then jots something down on a clipboard. “Fascinating.”

Virgil sits perched on the top of an unmarked container, chewing on his thumbnail. “We definitely should have broken something that time.”

Patton—who is sitting beside him, his feet kicking back and forth slightly against the container—looks at Thomas worriedly. “You okay, kiddo? That one looked like it hurt.”

Thomas frowns, then rolls his shoulder slowly one more time. Just to be sure. “Yeah, actually.”

“Well,” Logan says, studying the clipboard in his hands. “That just about confirms it. We can include a notable increase in your physical durability on our list of physiological changes your body has undergone as a result of recent catalytic events.”

“Thomas, you’re virtually indestructible.”

“No,” Logan corrects Roman hastily, waving a pen in the Creative Side’s direction. “That would be hyperbole. However, you have certainly demonstrated an unnatural ability to withstand impact that would, under normal circumstances, severely injure any other human.”

Thomas grabs his water bottle from where he’d set it down by Roman’s feet. He nods his understanding, glancing around the warehouse. Truthfully, it was pretty much the perfect place for what he was doing. As far as Thomas could tell, the warehouse was mostly abandoned. Shipping containers were empty, but they provided a number of walls of various heights for Thomas to use for practice. And, perhaps most importantly, there wasn’t a soul around except for himself.

“It’s probably a good thing,” Virgil quips in reference to Logan’s comment, “given how many times you’ve faceplanted into concrete this week.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender at the disapproving look Patton throws at him.

Thomas acknowledges the comment with a brief glance before he surveys the warehouse again. They’d realized his strength level had markedly increased on day 1. Before things had started to change, Thomas couldn’t even do a pull up. Now? Now he could pull himself up onto a ledge with one arm. In fact, he lifted one of the warehouse boxes—weighing several tons, by Logan’s best estimate—like it was a slightly awkward desk.

“Thomas,” Logan interrupts, “what would you say is your fatigue level?”

Stamina was another thing that Logan had been keeping a close eye on. Usually, Thomas could manage a 2 mile run before he’d start to feel the fatigue. But he’d been working out—experimenting? Training? Honestly he didn’t know what to call it—for nearly eight hours each day. And sure, he’d be tired at the end, but there was still a marked difference in Thomas’s stamina level.

“I’m good,” Thomas tells him honestly. “Starting to feel it a bit, but I want to keep going.”

The one thing that continued to be a problem for him, really, was this whole “sticking/not sticking” thing. He was getting better as the days passed—practice makes perfect, as Patton kept telling him—but it wasn’t coming as naturally as the stamina or the strength. He kept falling or slipping. Again and again and again.

Logan hums in thought and writes down something else. “As you wish.”

Thomas’s gaze zeroes in on a stack of shipping containers a few yards away. He bounces on his feet a few times, stretching his neck. He flexes his fingers. His shoulders tense. He breathes in. Out.

He takes off sprinting.

Thomas kicks off the ground as he rushes up to the tower of containers, his hands finding unnatural purchase against their smooth walls. He kicks his feet up against it, grinning a bit to himself as they stick. He huffs a breath.

He climbs quickly as if it’s a ladder—hand, foot, hand, foot—and reaches up for the edge of the top container. He glances down and immediately wishes he hadn’t. At the same time that he realizes just how high up he really is, Thomas feels his feet slip. His hands let go. The ground rushes up to meet him very suddenly.

The wind leaves Thomas’s lungs. He wheezes, coughing in a desperate attempt to get air back. He lays there for a moment, waiting for the world around him to stop spinning. The lighting fixtures set up into the scaffolding of the warehouse ceiling turn briefly into double and triple images. Thomas squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the high-pitched ringing in his ears to abate.

When he opens his eyes again after a long moment, he sees Roman standing above him. The Creative Side offers a hand, and Thomas accepts it as Roman helps him up to his feet.

“What happened?” Roman asks, walking back with him. “You were almost there.”

Thomas shakes his head without answering. He doesn’t know.

Wordlessly, Thomas turns on his heels once they get back to the starting point and faces the tower of shipping containers again. He breathes. He tenses. His weight shifts forward to the balls of his feet. He takes off running again.

Thomas scales the side of it just like he had before, getting about three quarters of the way up before his hands slip, his feet suddenly letting go. He plummets to the floor again.

“Thomas,” Logan says quietly when the host manages to push back up to his feet and stalk back towards the starting point again.

“He has to do this, Logan,” Roman says with a certain edge to his voice. “It’s not like it’s that hard!”

“Maybe he can’t,” Virgil quips.

“He has to.” Roman’s voice is a little higher than Thomas is used to hearing it. Something about it only spurs him on.

“Roman—” Patton tries, but Thomas doesn’t hear what his Morality is saying as he takes off at a dead run for the stack of shipping containers again.

This time, he feels his fingertips brush the very edge of the top container. Then he slips.

Thomas yelps in surprise, reaching blindly. One hand makes contact with the side of the containers as he slides down, and he feels a sharp pull in his shoulder as the hand sticks, abruptly stopping his fall. He grits his teeth, reaching his other hand up. The first hand lets go before he’s ready, and Thomas falls clumsily the rest of the way.

He lands awkwardly on his feet, the harsh impact bringing him to his knees. It sends a jolt of pain shooting up his body. Thomas falls forward onto his hands and knees, his eyes stinging. He takes a second to catch his breath.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Patton says from a distance, uncharacteristically firm. Thomas can hear a set of footsteps behind him, getting closer.

“Y-Yeah,” comes Roman’s voice, distant. It sounds tight and pained. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna—” A grunt. “I’m gonna go lay down.”

The footsteps are right behind him now. Thomas hears Logan’s voice speak up from behind him, unusually gentle for the Logical Side. “Breathe, Thomas.”

Perhaps ironically, Thomas doesn’t have the breath to respond. He nods, hating the way his arms feel suddenly like jelly. His exhale is shaky. He bows his head and tries to focus on catching his breath. The concrete is cold and grounding, and Thomas leans so that his forearms and forehead are against the floor. It helps with the lingering dizziness.

After a moment, Thomas pushes himself up so that he’s just kneeling on the floor. Logan is standing in front of him now. The clipboard is gone. The internet personality glances around the warehouse and notices that Roman is nowhere to be seen. Patton stands a few steps behind Thomas, his eyes bright and worried. Virgil stands a few feet back. There’s something unreadable about his expression.

“Are you… all right?” Logan asks.

Thomas takes a deep, slow breath. It doesn’t shake as much. “Yeah,” he says unconvincingly. He pushes himself to his feet.

“It’ll come, kiddo,” Patton says as Thomas brushes past him.

Thomas doesn’t answer as he walks out of the warehouse.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic lamp/calm #sanders sides spiderman au #spider-man au #with great power fic #tw cursing #tw death mention #tw risky behavior #tw lying #tw panic attack #character!thomas #hhhhh i hope you enjoy this chapter #<3

125 notes · View notes

ohshcscenerios · 4 years

Note

Hi! I'd like a matchup please:) I'm a 5'10 (178cm) bi girl with blond hair and blue eyes. I'm kind of quiet, especially around new people, but if something is really important to me, I will speak up and stand my ground. I'm interested in politics and I want to fight for everyones' equal rights. I love music and singing. I find it difficult to become close to people and to show vulnerability, so I only have a few close friends at a time. Thanks for a great blog!

Hello! I hope you don’t mind but I ship you with Benio!

Benio also shares a fierce conviction to protect equal rights. She sees herself as a flaming crusade in this dark and twisted world and she will happily bring you to her side so together you two can fight the oppression. Sometimes Benio can get a little carried away but that’s when she silently relies on you to be her anchor in reason and logic. She will help you broaden your horizons in friendships while you will help educate her on compassionate equality.

As we all know, she takes much pride in her lineage in theater. Her mother was in the Zuka Club and she proudly carries on the legacy. She may try to force you to join her musicals but if they are beyond your comfort zone this is where you have the opportunity to help her grow and mature. It might take a while for her to fully understand your hesitancy but eventually she will and she’ll be eternally grateful for your life lessons.

Overall, your relationship will be of equal opportunities for the other to prove their love. She will happily bend on one knee for you and she’ll swoon at your romantic advances. She’ll consider you in her decisions and respect you for the fair maiden that you are.

1 note · View note

wit-craft · 6 years

Note

sorry if this is weird and random but do u know any good books with lesbian characters? u just seem like the type of person who would

First of all, can I just say I’m thrilled that i give off that impression? Clearly, I’m doing something right. Second, yes! I do! Not as many as I’d like, but still (also, I’m including bi girls because it does widen the the selection a little.)

Adaption by Malinda Lo

Reese can’t remember anything from the time between the accident and the day she woke up almost a month later. She only knows one thing: She’s different now.

Across North America, flocks of birds hurl themselves into airplanes, causing at least a dozen to crash. Thousands of people die. Fearing terrorism, the United States government grounds all flights, and millions of travelers are stranded.

Reese and her debate team partner and longtime crush David are in Arizona when it happens. Everyone knows the world will never be the same. On their drive home to San Francisco, along a stretch of empty highway at night in the middle of Nevada, a bird flies into their headlights. The car flips over. When they wake up in a military hospital, the doctor won’t tell them what happened, where they are—or how they’ve been miraculously healed.

Things become even stranger when Reese returns home. San Francisco feels like a different place with police enforcing curfew, hazmat teams collecting dead birds, and a strange presence that seems to be following her. When Reese unexpectedly collides with the beautiful Amber Gray, her search for the truth is forced in an entirely new direction—and threatens to expose a vast global conspiracy that the government has worked for decades to keep secret.

they’re sci-fi YA novels with a bi main character and they’re really fun!! There is a love triangle, but it’s resolved super well in the sequel, Inheritance. I promise even if you hate love triangles (I do) just stick it. I don’t want to spoil anything but like… trust me.

The Summer I Wasn’t Me by Jessica Verdi

She never meant for her mom to find out. And now she’s afraid that what’s left of her family is going to fall apart for good.

Lexi knows she can fix everything. She can change. She can learn to like boys. New Horizons summer camp has promised to transform her life, and there’s nothing she wants more than to start over.

But sometimes love has its own path…

This is just about the only realistic fiction/coming out story on here— I’m usually not a huge fan. But I read this when I was younger and first coming to terms with my sexuality so it gets a spot.

Ash by Malinda Lo

In the wake of her father’s death, Ash is left at the mercy of her cruel stepmother. Consumed with grief, her only joy comes by the light of the dying hearth fire, rereading the fairy tales her mother once told her. In her dreams, someday the fairies will steal her away, as they are said to do. When she meets the dark and dangerous fairy Sidhean, she believes that her wish may be granted.

The day that Ash meets Kaisa, the King’s Huntress, her heart begins to change. Instead of chasing fairies, Ash learns to hunt with Kaisa. Though their friendship is as delicate as a new bloom, it reawakens Ash’s capacity for love-and her desire to live. But Sidhean has already claimed Ash for his own, and she must make a choice between fairy tale dreams and true love.

Entrancing, empowering, and romantic, Ash is about the connection between life and love, and solitude and death, where transformation can come from even the deepest grief.

Have you ever wondered what Cinderella would be like if it were gay and had proper faeries? Wonder no more; Ash is the book for you! Seriously though, Lo is a godsend when it comes to queer si-fi/fantasy YA fiction. She has a couple more books that I haven’t read yet but look just as good.

And I Darken by Kiersten White

No one expects a princess to be brutal. And Lada Dragwlya likes it that way. Ever since she and her gentle younger brother, Radu, were wrenched from their homeland of Wallachia and abandoned by their father to be raised in the Ottoman courts, Lada has known that being ruthless is the key to survival. She and Radu are doomed to act as pawns in a vicious game, an unseen sword hovering over their every move. For the lineage that makes them special also makes them targets.

Lada despises the Ottomans and bides her time, planning her vengeance for the day when she can return to Wallachia and claim her birthright. Radu longs only for a place where he feels safe. And when they meet Mehmed, the defiant and lonely son of the sultan, Radu feels that he’s made a true friend—and Lada wonders if she’s finally found someone worthy of her passion.

But Mehmed is heir to the very empire that Lada has sworn to fight against—and that Radu now considers home. Together, Lada, Radu, and Mehmed form a toxic triangle that strains the bonds of love and loyalty to the breaking point.

Okay so… technically, this one probably doesn’t really belong on this list but like. Guys. It’s so good. And there are lesbians, they’re just not quite main characters, and there’s other queer characters who have larger parts. It’s based on the stories of Vlad the Impaler, re-imagined if he were a woman. The pov characters are Lada (Vlad) and her brother Radu, and I love them, and their messy ass relationship, both so much. It’s all set in the royal court of the ottoman empire, in the midst of the crusades, and there’s so much about fascinating political-religious tensions, and it’s historical fiction (queer historical fiction!!! (queer historical fiction not set in Western Europe!!!)). The sequel is Now I Rise, and features the lesbians more heavily.

The Dark Wife by Sarah Diemer

Three thousand years ago, a god told a lie. Now, only a goddess can tell the truth. Persephone has everything a daughter of Zeus could want–except for freedom. She lives on the green earth with her mother, Demeter, growing up beneath the ever-watchful eyes of the gods and goddesses on Mount Olympus. But when Persephone meets the enigmatic Hades, she experiences something new: choice. Zeus calls Hades “lord” of the dead as a joke. In truth, Hades is the goddess of the underworld, and no friend of Zeus. She offers Persephone sanctuary in her land of the dead, so the young goddess may escape her Olympian destiny. But Persephone finds more than freedom in the underworld. She finds love, and herself.

Have you ever thought Ancient Greek Myths were too heterosexual? Probably not, but now they’re even gayer! A re-imagining of Hades and Persephone where Hades is a woman. It’s a really quick read with a great love story and I highly recommend it.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust

At sixteen, Mina’s mother is dead, her magician father is vicious, and her silent heart has never beat with love for anyone—has never beat at all, in fact, but she’d always thought that fact normal. She never guessed that her father cut out her heart and replaced it with one of glass. When she moves to Whitespring Castle and sees its king for the first time, Mina forms a plan: win the king’s heart with her beauty, become queen, and finally know love. The only catch is that she’ll have to become a stepmother.Fifteen-year-old Lynet looks just like her late mother, and one day she discovers why: a magician created her out of snow in the dead queen’s image, at her father’s order. But despite being the dead queen made flesh, Lynet would rather be like her fierce and regal stepmother, Mina. She gets her wish when her father makes Lynet queen of the southern territories, displacing Mina. Now Mina is starting to look at Lynet with something like hatred, and Lynet must decide what to do—and who to be—to win back the only mother she’s ever known…or else defeat her once and for all.Entwining the stories of both Lynet and Mina in the past and present, Girls Made of Snow and Glass traces the relationship of two young women doomed to be rivals from the start. Only one can win all, while the other must lose everything—unless both can find a way to reshape themselves and their story.

I am a sucker for a good adaption of myths and fairy tales, and this is probably my favorite. The plot, the concept… it’s so original and just absolutely delicious. The writing was good, if not the best I’ve ever read, but the characters were wonderful. Also, I picked it up without knowing it was gay, so I was very pleasantly surprised. Oh, but don’t worry– Mina and Lynet aren’t together, there’s no weird stepmother/daughter shit going on. They have separate love stories.

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters

Sue Trinder is an orphan, left as an infant in the care of Mrs. Sucksby, a “baby farmer,” who raised her with unusual tenderness, as if Sue were her own. Mrs. Sucksby’s household, with its fussy babies calmed with doses of gin, also hosts a transient family of petty thieves—fingersmiths—for whom this house in the heart of a mean London slum is home.

One day, the most beloved thief of all arrives—Gentleman, an elegant con man, who carries with him an enticing proposition for Sue: If she wins a position as the maid to Maud Lilly, a naïve gentlewoman, and aids Gentleman in her seduction, then they will all share in Maud’s vast inheritance. Once the inheritance is secured, Maud will be disposed of—passed off as mad, and made to live out the rest of her days in a lunatic asylum.

With dreams of paying back the kindness of her adopted family, Sue agrees to the plan. Once in, however, Sue begins to pity her helpless mark and care for Maud Lilly in unexpected ways…But no one and nothing is as it seems in this Dickensian novel of thrills and reversals.

Betrayal! Unbetrayal! Mutual betrayal! Mutual unbetrayal! It’s a wild fucking ride y'all. It also gets pretty fucking dark, but there’s a happy… enough ending, because I don’t do shit without happy endings.

Every Day, David Levithan

Every day a different body. Every day a different life. Every day in love with the same girl.There’s never any warning about where it will be or who it will be. A has made peace with that, even established guidelines by which to live: Never get too attached. Avoid being noticed. Do not interfere.It’s all fine until the morning that A wakes up in the body of Justin and meets Justin’s girlfriend, Rhiannon. From that moment, the rules by which A has been living no longer apply. Because finally A has found someone he wants to be with—day in, day out, day after day.

Eh, I debated whether to put this on here. As you can see, it’s about a kid who wakes up in a different body every day– be it guy or girl. From what I recall, “A” themself doesn’t every assign a gender to themself, and the book is in first person from their perspective, but the Goodreads description does use he/him pronouns. I read it as a non-binary/genderfluid person who falls in love with a girl, and it’s a really good book, so. Take it or leave it, it’s up to you. On an unrelated note, I think there’s a movie coming out soon.

That’s all I can think of at the moment! Hope you find something you like.

#books recs #queer fiction #lesbian fiction

6 notes · View notes