#lesbian hive

[moonyackertarg]

for all my lesbian bree truthers

[hyakunana]

"Were you even listening? How many reports, Ikora? How many times did I tell you what I saw?"

[wwwormmie]

Whatcha got there?

[gus-dix]

wanted to draw the girls from hunchback of notre dame 1 and 2 dancing cause they both have a red dress and i thought it would be cute

+ it always seemed likely to me that one of the triplets in beauty and the beast was only pretending to go along with her sisters... and due to that she’s good at playing a role but not so much at being herself so when she gets an interest in belle she suddenly turns real shy

do not erase the caption, use or rePOST my art (reblog ok)

[rivaldi22]

lesbian ship meme going around on twitter

you know I had to

meme source tweet

[thecsquirrel]

For years, we have rightfully called out Disney for their piss-poor Queer representation across the board, and they deserve all the smoke.

In the same breath, I also need to say that through 5 episodes of the Willow series, they are kind of getting it right. I am pleasantly surprised.

I fully accept that I might have to walk that back depending on how the series ends, but as of now, the handling of Kit and Jade's relationship has been sweet and flirty and angsty and fun. This relationship has been all the things, and it's just refreshing to watch.

Throw in a motley crew of adventurers on a never-ending quest, magic, nostalgia, and some campy goodness, and you get a delightful show.

[aquilamage]

I haven’t been insane about Vi enough lately so time to pour out some random thoughts. free association thinking time:

been thinking about her “It's my savings. I wanna be rich, okay? So I can travel, eat well, buy cool stuff… So no one can say I can't do something!” And none of the following will really be insightful or revelatory because it’s just what she says here but. yeah! that’s vi! the main reason she’s so big on money is because she has to be to get what she wants out of life! it’s what lets her say no to people telling her what to do, and that’s important to her because she has no choice but to be independent and support herself. because no one else will. No one at the Hive had anything positive or supportive to say about her being an explorer until she went out and did it (to a ridiculously successful degree, too. I have to wonder if/how it might’ve differed if she was on a regular accomplishment level team. not the one leading them all to the mission to the Hive). she never had a choice not to be. I could also see that being a little part of why she starts out not really being a teamwork person. past experiences have taught her she can’t rely on anyone else for support. (does make me wonder about what if she’d met Chubee before leaving the Hive. obviously she still would’ve left, but how might even a bit of support have changed other things?)

I feel like we don’t talk about the fact that The Beemerang Is Also Knives enough

ok so at one point there was this post talking about people with money and how it affects their life like. if you can afford to get a nanny then you can only do the fun parts of childcare and when you stop feeling like taking care of the kid you can just hand them to someone else to take them away. and again likely not especially revelatory but I would guess that’s the kind of way queen bianca handled the bees as her daughters (she does care about them. absolutely. but not in the same hands-on attached way as we usually associate with parents) and thinking about how that kind of treatment would then apply to vi....hm

in universes where discussions of Gender and Pronouns etc happen I think she has moments where she gets frustrated with the everything of Being Referred To and Having Complicated Identity She Hasn’t Quite Figured Yet and is like. gender is cancelled how dare you refer to me. but especially anyone else calls me a girl ever i will be stabbing them

also I think a lot about what circumstances she finds out about gayness/Gender being things. and whether she’s thought about it in herself before and whether she’d been dismissed on it/told it wasn’t a thing etc. most circumstances she ends up angry about the finding out times because of (un)consicious internal conflict stuff

underground tavern stuff implies she was definitely doing quests and stuff for money with them precanon. would kill to know what specifically it was. but also the first talk with utter implies that she was doing stuff off that questboard as well which is even more intriguing. utter’s spy also implies you don’t have to be an explorer to do them but otherwise you would think you did I feel. so again very curious what was up there

[hive--knight]

day eighteen:

hive knight but he's the lesbian flag

[shslflamingarrow]

literally feels like I’m going fucking insane watching everyone call for Cressida Cowper to be this shows lesbian representation when like yeah ofc the vibes are there but why is the only representation we get in yet another piece of media the mean girl lesbian???

like really why is the only feasible option for yall to be a lesbian the girl who viciously bullied a plus sized girl for years?? why is that? oh right i know why

[arellas]

anyone have fic recs for damian or cass that are nice to them but also not too mushy

[gnostichor]

That Cloud and Its Auxiliaries Are Forever

Heulog-12 drops herself onto the shaded bench, slouched shoulders heavy with inelegant worry. She had just returned from Titan by means of that disorienting portal installed aboard the HELM, and the nausea caused by whatever esoteric technologies that power that thing had yet to wear off. She wearily sets her helmet next to her, and when its clumsy placement sends it clattering to the paving stones she cannot bring herself to reach down and retrieve it. The helmet’s metallic ringing fades, giving way to the familiar silence of this darkened back alley behind the Tower Bazaar where she and Kysurax like to meet.

A nearby wall tears open with a green scream, and from between the bricks emerges the Risen Wizard herself. Gliding closer, she wordlessly picks up the helmet and lowers herself awkwardly on the undersized bench. At first she says nothing, looking down at the helmet in her lap as if it were Heulog herself, then asks, “Is it true?”

The Exo sighs, leaning back until the metal of her head pings against the brick. “It is.”

Kysurax fitfully runs her claws down through the grooves of the helmet’s shell, tracing its history through the etches, marks, and gouges found along its weathered surfaces. “When is it to take place—will it even work?”

“Soon, and I have no idea if it will work. There’s a small angry wound somewhere inside me that hopes that maybe it won’t.”

In response, Kysurax finally looks at Heulog, her eyes green-hot with some inscrutable emotion. “Why wo—”

“BECAUSE SHE HURT ME, KY.” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, pulling herself from the wall to meet the Wizard’s gaze. She quickly realized that she had never actually said those words aloud before, and they simply had needed to get out. “She led me to believe that she wanted to change, that just maybe she saw ahead of her a possible path born by the fruits of honesty, reparations, and,” she struggles with the word, “...forgiveness. That there was space in the world for the likes of us, and that it was worth searching for.” She turns away, facing forward as the heat of her indignance gutters out. “That she was my friend. And I believed it.” 

After a moment she looks up at Kysurax, all anger given way to sadness. “I used to read to her. Off-duty, I would bring whatever I could from the libraries that week and just…read to her: novels, textbooks, old newspapers, poetry. She told me how happy it made her, how fascinating it was just how much she could learn about me merely by what I chose to bring down with me each time, how nice of a change it was to have a fulfilling relationship with someone after all those countless gray eons. A Cloud withdrew from the Sky. Pre-Golden Age poem. She told me it was her favorite of everything I ever brought to her.”

Heulog sighs, shaking her head. “And then she was Risen. A new start. Memories wiped clean. It broke my heart, finding out that that had been her plan all along: that every moment she spent with me was knowingly going to be tossed away like a shed skin.” Her voice catches in her throat. “But that wasn’t the plan, was it? She left a trail of clues for this desperate, heartbroken and guileless Warlock to follow, and got her memories back—some, but not all. Just the useful ones. Not the time we spent together, or the things she said to me, or all those supposed insights gleaned from my behavior. She just…she did not want it.” Heulog felt the modulation of her voice, the microtremors cascading through the tiny actuators that clicked and whirred beneath the plates of her face, the gentle flickering of the lamps behind her eyes: she was crying. 

“She could have, I don’t know, she could have made something else so she could remember, some—something different, for us, a new, different thing for us, for the altar, to remember with the altar, before she ran away. Before she ran away to die and forget—to forget about me. But she didn’t want it. She didn’t want it and she forgot about me. She didn’t—why didn’t she want me?” Her shoulders heaving with sobs, Heulog throws herself around Kysurax’s midsection as best she can, clumsy and awkward as her metal fingers tangle and catch on the chitinaceous cage of ribs and spines. Kysurax carefully extracts the Exo’s hands and gently lifts her upright into a more comfortable position and wraps her arms around her, pulling her in close while stroking a shimmering cheek with one claw.

“I am sorry. I did not know all of that,” says the Wizard as tenderly as her flayed throat will allow.

“That’s because I’ve never told anyone—I’ve never talked about this with anyone before; I suppose I never felt like I could. I am,” Heulog sniffles with a newfound sense of self-consciousness, “very sorry for throwing all that at your feet, all at once.”

“It was something you clearly needed to do, and it sharpens my bones that you trust me enough to have let it out.”

Heulog turns to look up at Kysurax, ducking under the claw caressing her cheek in order to readjust her positioning to rest her head affectionately in the Wizard’s leathery palm. “But this news clearly weighs upon you too, and it is unfair of me to dominate our conversation with my clearly-biased reactionary nonsense.”

Kysurax’s three eyes flash. “It is NOT nonsense. As the shape of the Sword defines the shape of the cut, so too does the cut in turn redefine the ever-wearing edge of the Sword. What we call a life is a collected series of impressions left upon us by those we touch and those who touch us. Your hurt is as real as the blade that gave it to you: the threat of Savathûn’s return manifests that hurt in ways you have not had to deal with in over a year.”

Kysurax haunts the alley with a soft sigh. “To clarify my own feelings: I also find myself wondering if it would be best if the ritual failed.”

“Really? Why?”

“I am afraid.”

“That she’ll come back and simply return to her pernicious bullshit?”

Kysurax laughs, or makes a sound that Heulog has come to recognize as laughter: gravel being sifted through with a rusty shovel. It’s one of Heulog’s favorite sounds, and she has made it a lifelong goal to hear it as often as she can.

The Wizard composes herself, returning to her usual, more serious affect. “No, I am afraid,” she takes a deep breath. “I am afraid that she will not. Afraid that the person you thought she was will finally arrive. Seeking redemption, forgiveness. What sort of future, then, would we have to look forward to? What does such a world look like? Is one even possible? What if she comes back to us seeking change and is denied it, held down and chained by a vengeful cosmos unwilling to move beyond the countless millennia of aggregate harm she has inflicted upon it, irrespective of any alleged motivations she may or may not have had at the time? What kind of world makes allowances for the existence of Savathûn the Witch Queen, Repentant? What are you or I in the face of such uncertain tomorrows? What would become of us? Would you still love me as you do now?”

With each enumerated concern, Kysurax’s words become increasingly pressured and frantic; Heulog has never seen her like this before. She sits up straight and reaches one arm behind the Wizard’s back to cradle her thorax, while carefully slipping her free hand between the ribbed lattice of her bony exoskeleton. She reaches around, searching for the dense nerve bundle deep within and finds it, recognizable by its faint, rhythmic thrumming. She places her palm on its tough surface, and begins to hum a softly-dissonant melody: a lesser invocation calling on the strength of the listener, normally sung to newborn Hive just as they are being administered their worm larvae—a lullaby, once used by Kysurax to calm Heulog after a particularly harrowing encounter down in the depths of the recently-returned Titan.

Heulog holds herself as close as she can and continues to hum. She couldn’t yet form the vocalizations, and maybe would never be able to do so, but she hoped that for now the acrid notes alone would suffice. That through the burgeoning haze of unchecked anxiety Kysurax would be able to recall the invoking words and hear the earnest appeal to her inner strength, the words that define that strength as extant and obligate it to come forth, to inhabit her bones and manifest as the truest form of her will. The words that assert that she, as a single unified force of will and body—in defiance of all existence—shall persist.

Heulog feels the thrumming slow, its rhythmic cadence aligning with her own deep breaths. She gently removes her hand from Kysurax’s torso and feels the Wizard’s arms close around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“I am afraid,” Kysurax finally says, calm returned to her voice. “But I temper that fear with the certainty that I will be alright, because you are with me.” She looks down at the Exo in her arms, into the starblue flames that are her eyes, and smiles. “I do not doubt, for I have seen your heart. As you have seen mine. That is the power intrinsic to the Yielding Inquisition: there is no obfuscating act of misdirection, no factor of deceit that can withstand the abrading blade of trust conjured by the ritual. Truly, I have known you, and that secret knowledge is a weapon with which I joyfully flense and cast aside any and all flesh given over to the rot of doubt.”

At the ritual’s mention, a sense memory comes rushing unbidden to Heulog: the sour burn of the soulfire clinging to her lips, the infracitrus sting pooling on her tongue. She nestles close, her face half-buried in chitin; a non-verbal reciprocation of Kysurax’s expressed sentiments. It had been quite some time since that night, and the memory of it was a constant companion in Heulog’s thoughts. Maybe she would finally allow herself to ask Kysurax if she wanted to perform the ritual again. Maybe tonight, Heulog thought to herself as she listened to the rise and fall of the Wizard’s calm breath, watching the clouds over the City recede one by one into the horizon.

[ah-uhn]

the writers kinda fucked up Sesshomaru’s character real bad in the sequel. like if I was prompted with “Sesshomaru marries rin and has kids” and needed to write his character I wouldn’t have made many of the choices that they made. Idk. The fact that he’s not around seems really strange esp since he let rin follow him everywhere when she was a kid despite the danger and interruptions to his plans. Like… rumiko takahashi showed him coming by just to visit and bearing gifts in the last chapter. Sure, I guess he’d be not around 24/7, but clearly he drops by frequently enough that nobody is shocked to see him. It seems fuckin bizarre to me that he would visit her a bunch as a kid but then fuck off when she literally gives birth to his children????

Like to be dead serious, I think it’s an awkward character choice for him to be with rin romantically in the first place since the entire series sets her up with Kohaku, but if you gotta have a trio of half demon siblings for the sequel, sure I get it, shoehorn it in so you have an interesting story to tell with new characters. That being said they could have done a better job writing him so that he reacts in character to the things happening to him. : / seeing how attentive he was to rin when she was travelling with him it makes legitimately zero sense for him to be be an absent father LMFAO

[worldenough-and-time]

She’s here! May I present:

Not Enough to Save You

(Lesbian Wolfstar, Oneshot, 8k) (aka Remus Lupin is Joan of Arc)

Summary:

The Princess gave her a fond look. “Truthfully? I needed a friend.”

It was such a thing for a Princess to say, to anyone, really, but especially to Remus. Dirt under her fingernails, clad in boy's dress, scraping through battle with borrowed weapons, Remus. Barely even Jeanne d’Arc yet.

Remus could not even laugh, it was so absurd. What was worse was the swelling of warmth in her chest at the Princess’s words. Of course, she was used to aching for the impossible, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes- a farmhand!- dust on her knees and God behind her eyes. And she’d always looked twice at pretty girls. She looked a third time at the Princess, and realized she’d be hard pressed to tear her gaze away again. “I’m happy to be of service.”

~Remus is Jeanne d'Arc. Sirius is a French Princess. Can I make it anymore obvious?~

———

Did you know that Jeanne is the French feminization of the name John? Something to consider! 🤔

Anyway, please enjoy:

-Remus in a suit of armor

-possibly even more religious blasphemy than the demon baby cult fic

-girls kissing in 15th century France while being plagued by psychic visions of fire

-“More smut than I would have expected in the Joan of Arc fic!” (According to Mel)

Bon appetit!

[spockderangementsyndrome]

[Sideblog simulator.] [Someone interacts with my post. Open blog. Read bio.] fandom TRASH always losing my mind about Steddie Ineffable Husbands SteveBucky Sterek BlackB--[close blog.]

[minthara]

hcing karlach as a lesbian is not stereotypical considering there isn’t enough representation of us to even establish a stereotype… ur not doing lesbians any favors by calling our aesthetics “stereotypical” either.

if u see 4 female companions and headcnaon the one strong body type one as the lesbian of the group....... bestie. Also u think there's no lesbian stereotypes??????? Huh?????????

[rivaldi22]

It's International Lesbian Day—fictional bug and robot wives totally count