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writingwithcolor · 5 years

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Find your next diverse read! #2 (WWC Reader Publications)

We asked you to tell us about your publications, and here they are!

These are the eleven (11) books submitted to us, written by Writing With Color readers.

Book Titles

Always Darkest

Commonwealth

Faerie Rising: The First Book of Binding

Fate (The St. Cloud Chronicles)

A Hero’s Tale

Less than Three

Moonrise

Not So Stories Anthology

OPEN: A Tale of Love, Mermaids, Bassists, & Creepy Dudes

The Path to Dawn

To Whom it Doesn't Concern

Book Descriptions

Title: Always Darkest

Author: Jess and Keith Flaherty | @demonsrunlit Series: Yes Buy: Amazon Premise: Supernatural meets Good Omens with a dash of romance and divine chaos.‪ Ben wants a vacation away from Hell, but Mal reveals a path to redemption instead. ‬ On the run from Heaven and Hell, a demon becomes a hero. Themes/Elements: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance MC Race/Ethnicity: White Other Characters: White Other Diversity: LQBTQAI+, Religion

Title: Commonwealth (Patreon series)

Author: Adam Lee Series: No Buy: Patreon Premise: In a near-future U.S. that’s become a hyper-capitalist dystopia of inequality and climate change, a small band of dreamers fight to bring back the vanished era when people worked together and helped each other. Themes/Elements: Individualism vs. mutuality, capitalism vs. socialism MC Race/Ethnicity: Biracial black/white Other Characters: Latino (Mexican), Jewish, Japanese/Chinese Other Diversity: Economic and environmental justice, sexism and pregnancy discrimination

Title: Faerie Rising: The First Book of Binding

Author: A. E. Lowan | @aelowan (multiple authors) Series: Yes Buy: Amazon Premise:

Winter Mulcahy is the last wizard in the city of Seahaven, WA and all that stands between the fractious preternatural population and total chaos. Holding the city together by the skin of her teeth, the blood of her friends, and an addiction to stimulants that is slowly killing her, the young wizard is approached by a pair of sidhe lords. They claim that her city is harboring a fugitive who has kidnapped a sidhe prince, and that they are on a mission to rescue the boy.

Winter must investigate this fugitive to get to the truth of the kidnapping, discover the cause of the surges of wild magic tearing open rifts between realms across her city, and navigate the deadly waters of preternatural politics before Seahaven both figuratively and literally rips itself apart.

Themes/Elements: Addiction, redemption, found families MC Race/Ethnicity: (multiple POVS)

Young black hero just coming into his powers

Teenage wizard who proves that weight won’t slow her down

Physician at the breaking point who is addicted to stimulants

Two bisexual men in a dance of attraction (one survivor of childhood sexual assault)

Young trans man who will play a larger role in the second book

Gay Viking vampire king and his lover.

Afro-Latina wolf queen

Afro-Latino Lion King

Title: FATE

Author: Jade Stewart | @j-a-stewart Series: Yes Buy: Amazon Premise: FATE is a YA fantasy novel about a teenage girl from the Bronx who realizes there’s more to her new home in Buffalo, and herself, than meets the eye. Themes/Elements: Urban fantasy, magic/wizards, werewolves, vampires, benefits of hard work, fate, moving to a new city, romance, revenge MC Race/Ethnicity: African-American Other Characters: Japanese, Jamaican-American and Romanian (mixed race), & American Other Diversity/Topics: Anti-bullying, high school, friendship

Title: A Hero’s Tale

Author: J. Stern | @theactualjstern Series: No Buy: Amazon Premise: Sam Garrett is determined to be a normal kid in spite of his superpowers, only to have his resolve questioned when his powers are exposed to the world and he becomes the target of a powered villain determined to remove all powered from the world. Themes/Elements: coming of age, superhero MC Race/Ethnicity: African American Other Characters: Black, mixed race Philipino and Mexican, Greek Other Diversity: queer characters of color (bisexual and trans), queer characters, disability (Deaf), mental illness (PTSD, anxiety), gender parity of characters

Title: Less than Three

Author: Téa Belog | @transannabeth Series: No Buy: Amazon | Books2Read | Goodreads Premise: Ren has been in love with his best friend for the past three years, Calliope has spent most of her life dancing, and Ingrid plans to start over in college, to go beyond what held her back in high school. Less Than Three is a collection of three short stories about a group of friends. Together, they shoulder their way through romance, all-nighters, and the occasional dragon. Themes/Elements: Romance, friendship, coming of age, mental illness, and college MC Race/Ethnicity: Japanese and Black (Calliope and Ingrid respectively, individual POVs) Other Characters: Indian, Vietnamese, and white Other Diversity: LGBTQIA+ (trans and nonbinary characters, gay characters), depression

Title: Moonrise (interactive novel)

Author: Natalie Cannon Series: No Buy: Choice of Games Premise: You’re here. You’re queer. You’re a werewolf. Who will you kiss under the moonlight? Themes/Elements: queer femme werewolves, fighting for humanity or giving into the beast, romance, aligning with the tradition of the Masquerade or breaking free with the desperate Rogues, found family MC Race/Ethnicity: Intentionally left up to player interpretation Other Characters: Black, Japanese, Mexican, Jewish Other Diversity: Lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, polyamorous, aromantic, trans, nonbinary gender options and/or characters. Amputee character. Mental illness mention

Title: Not So Stories Anthology

Author: Multiple authors of colour Series: No Buy: Goodreads Premise: Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories was a timeless classic. It is also deeply rooted in British colonialism. Not So Stories attempts to redress the balance, bringing together new and established writers of colour from around the world to take the Just So Stories back; giving voices to cultures that were long deprived them. Themes/Elements: Fantasy, ghost stories, fairy tales. MC Race/Ethnicity: Various Other Diversity: LGBTQIA+ characters

Title: OPEN: A Tale of Love, Mermaids, Bassists, & Creepy Dudes

Author: Emilie Nantel | @emilienantel Series: No Buy: Emilie Nantel Premise: A queer, polyamorous romcom for millennials, OPEN: A Tale of Love, Mermaids, Bassists, & Creepy Dudes is the story of Amy, bi, 25, in an open relationship, navigating the ups – dating gorgeous people – and downs – trying to avoid creeps – of the Montreal dating scene, when she falls in love with a hot bassist. This was not part of the plan. Themes/Elements: Queer found family, polyamorous relationship, friendship breakups MC Race/Ethnicity: White Other Characters: Black endgame love interest; half Filipina/half White best friend Other Diversity: Polyamory, bisexual MC, a cast all across the LGBTQIA+ community, MC is fat and has anxiety.

Title: The Path to Dawn

Author: Miri Castor | @miricastor Series: Yes Buy: Amazon Premise: Opal Charm is still grieving the loss of her brother when she meets a mysterious student in her class. Through their budding friendship, Opal discovers she has special powers, powers that brother once had. But she must learn how to wield them before an evil force destroys all that she loves. Themes/Elements: PoC kids/teens with superpowers, platonic relationships, family ties, light and darkness MC Race/Ethnicity: Black Other Characters: Filipino Other Diversity: LGBTQIA+ (Book 2) & depression

Title: To Whom it Doesn't Concern

Author: Wisdom A. Yarborough Series: No Buy: Amazon | Goodreads Premise: (TW Suicide)

A kid at Mortimer’s school has thrown himself off the roof. Everyone is freaking out, and trying to deal with the situation, while Mortimer wants this all to just pass as quickly as possible. It wasn’t like he was close to the kid who died, so there’s no reason to be concerned, or to even care? …Right?

Themes/Elements: Dealing with loss/grief, Suicide/Depression/Mental Health & Healing MC Race/Ethnicity: White Other Characters: Topher, the love interest, is Pakistani-American. Mortimer’s ex girlfriend is black.

Other Diversity: Topher is Canonically Pansexual, Mortimer realizes he’s bisexual throughout the story, Many characters suffer with depression, and depression/suicide/suicidal thoughts are a huge part of the themes of the story, and coping with those feelings.

Read the first book share here: Find your next diverse read #1

Folks - If you read any of these books, please leave the author a review.

WWC Reader Publications - Winter 2019/2020

#wwc #wwc post #writing with color #books #Book Recommendations #diversity #ownvoices #diverse books #authors of color #authors #find your next diverse read #long post

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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The Land Of The Midnight Sun - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Not particularly festive, but sometimes it’s cathartic to write a sad, but ultimately happy ��we’re going to be okay” moment, and so I did. Shorter than I would normally like, but it’s the holiday season so you have to be nice. Here’s my little gift to you xx

Sharon had more regrets than she had adult teeth. The balls of her feet ached, throbbing with blisters from her ceaseless walking. Nettles had been stinging her exposed ankles for the past few miles, and the pain had graduated from irritating to numbing to agonising over time. She smelt bad, looked worse, and was beginning to wonder if she had turned invisible.

Cars passed without so much as a glance towards her outstretched hand. If anything, they probably saw her haggard appearance and sped up, trying to get away from her as quickly as they could. It wasn’t like she could do anything to them, anyway. She walked empty-handed, her stomach growling, a packet of smokes and a lighter in her pocket as her only belongings. No wonder they assumed she was some kind of runaway junkie murderer, hoping to be picked up and driven off into a nightmare.

They weren’t far from the truth, but Sharon had no intentions of killing anyone.

It was a weird time of night, and Sharon didn’t feel sure that she was still alive. As she walked, endlessly walking on a road to nowhere, she studied her hands with a scholarly focus. They were veiny, pale, grimy. Dirt beneath her fingernails. Scratched up. The sky was mauve and the world looked like a bleak 70s horror movie, unusually coloured, unusually silent. Never serene, just unsettling.

Against the unchanging background of the countryside, the gas station lights seemed too jarring, too bright. Sharon headed towards them, light-headed and thoughtless. Gas stations meant food, water and smokes. Given her lack of money, they could also mean police. In that case, gas stations meant a car, somewhere to spend the night, and civilisation again. It was a win-win.

Sharon had been walking for so long. It might have been 7pm or 2am. She had no idea what day it was, or the month. She wasn’t even entirely sure of her own name.

There was an old hunk of junk car hastily parked up beside a pump as Sharon approached. It was dented, a foul peachy-vomit colour, with huge silver scrapes along the rear doors. The thing looked like it had been pulled from the 60s and driven straight into a wall. But it was a car. The driver was busily filling it up.

The less witnesses, the better, Sharon knew. To her surprise, the door above the small shop didn’t have a telltale bell on it, and given that her location was in the middle of nowhere, the cashier likely didn’t expect customers. Good, because they wouldn’t be getting any. Sharon was a thief.

She didn’t need much; a few granola bars and an extra packet of smokes slipped into her pocket and then she was done. Funny how when it came to the middle of nowhere, the laws seemed to slip away and melt. Cigarettes should’ve been behind the counter, not lined up in shiny silver rows for Sharon to take as she pleased. She would call herself lucky if it wasn’t such an exaggeration. Being a runaway was fun.

As she stepped outside, the driver of the shitty old car had stopped pumping gas. She was stood on the other side of her car, kicking the side of it as hard as she could and screaming obscenities.

“A golf club would do more damage. Or a baseball bat.” Sharon told her, slowly coming closer.

The driver stopped kicking and looked up, surprised that she’d been caught. Her eyes were warm green, like grass in midsummer. It was a refreshing change from the maudlin sepia tones of the fields Sharon had been trudging alongside.

“I don’t have either of those.” She responded. Her eyelashes were long, and she smiled prettily as she spoke. Nobody had smiled at Sharon for a long time.

“Me neither.”

Sharon wasn’t sure what it was, but it seemed as though a flicker of trust appeared in the driver’s eyes. She was clean and seemed outwardly normal, but Sharon knew she was damaged too. Not a soul who was so far into the land of the midnight sun wasn’t a dented can, damaged goods, a runaway or a no-hoper or a useless junkie. This woman had seen battles, like Sharon. She appeared to think the same thing.

“I put the wrong gas into this stupid thing.” She kicked the car again for good measure. “I can’t call anyone for help because I stole it from my step-dad, and it’s a missing vehicle. But now it won’t drive.”

Sharon nodded. “No license plate. You’re smart. Not that there’s anyone around here except us.”

“You’re right.” The driver agreed. “Help me siphon this out and I’ll refuel and give you a ride. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Weirder things had happened. Sharon, on her knees, in a gas station, accompanied by a pretty blonde; in times not too far in the past, yet a million miles away, she had earned herself a modest few dollars in such situations. Only this wouldn’t earn Sharon a penny - just oily, grimier hands and a sense of surreal camaraderie with this stranger. The world around them just stood still, as Sharon and a stranger somehow emptied the tank together as though they had been a team for their entire lives.

In a way, they had. Sharon saw the hard glint in the driver’s eyes, the firm line of her jaw, her outward strength and resolution. The small patch on her jacket, clearly ripped and frayed from someone’s fit of anger, showing half of what she was sure had once been two interlocking Venus symbols. Whoever she was, she was running away for the same reasons as Sharon. To free herself.

They were strangers, and had no reason to trust one another. For all Sharon knew, once they were done, the driver would fuel her shitty car correctly and speed off into the horizon, disappear at the point of no return and fall off the edge of the earth, leaving Sharon in her dust. She would fade away into nothing, in the middle of nowhere, leaving Sharon to question her sanity as well as herself.

But she didn’t.

With a wry smile, the blonde finished refuelling her car and offered Sharon a filthy rag to help clean her hands. Then, after a moment, she opened the passenger door.

“Get in. I don’t think I’m gonna pay for this one.”

The luxury of sitting was a pleasure Sharon had almost forgotten. Her feet still throbbed, her shoes sticky with what she was sure was her own blood, but she could finally rest, nestled in amongst magazines and empty cups and discarded wrappers. Around them, the mauve of the sky had faded into a darker, duller purplish-grey, devoid of stars, as bleak and lifeless as the dead cornfields that rolled past the windows on an endless loop. Their soundtrack was radio static, occasionally interspersed with a soothing guitar twang.

“Who are you?”

Sharon tried to remember who she was. It was a loaded question, really. Who was she? An innocent young girl - no, not for a long time. A dented can, yes. Damaged goods. A jaded, scarred, exhausted girl, separate from the world, freakish and unwanted and strange. She was a lesbian, a punk, someone’s lost sister, someone’s estranged daughter. She was so many things, and she had no idea who she was anymore. She was a zombie, who had walked miles into the land of the midnight sun and now found herself gazing up at the harvest moon.

“My name is Sharon.”

The driver’s voice was unique, and Sharon liked it. “I’m Alaska. Where are you going?”

The land where the sun doesn’t set. The land where phones won’t take calls. The land of the midnight sun. The land of nothing.

“Somewhere that no one can ever reach me again.”

Alaska smiled a second time, pretty still in the diminishing light. “Me too. We can find it together.”

Her face was so beautiful, smooth white skin and long dark eyelashes and an elegant curvature to every single one of her bones. It was marred only by a bruise on her cheek, which Sharon gazed at unabashedly. Even her bruises were perfect, vividly purple, the only bit of colour in Sharon’s world.

“Who did that to you?” She asked, too exhausted to bother with propriety and tact. “Walked into a door? A lamppost?”

She chuckled without mirth, but she seemed unoffended. “Stepdad. Caught me with a girl in my room, starting beating the living shit out of us both. You know what they say.” She paused, her voice taking on a tone of bittersweet sarcasm. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

Sharon didn’t offer sympathy. She knew her flowery words would bounce off of Alaska’s armour and thickened skin at this point. There was no sense in offering meaningless comfort to this harrowed stranger. Alaska had been hurt. Sharon knew exactly what she meant.

“Yeah.” Sharon pushed her sleeve up, her fingers tracing the cross-shaped red scar that stretched from her wrist to the middle of her forearm. “I understand. Made the mistake of coming out in a religious town that already thought I had a demon inside me. Got sick of the exorcisms and white-hot crucifixes, so I left a note and got out of there. I’m hoping they assume I’ve committed suicide and don’t come looking for my body. I left without a trace.”

“Amen to that, sister.” Alaska bit her lip. The words hung heavy in the dead night air. “Or not.”

Things seemed dark, morose, grim. Yet - and Sharon was sure Alaska could feel it too - there was a pull, a light switch, a sudden shift in the universe, a change in the wind. Everything had been so bad. But things were going to improve. Running away had felt like cowardice, and giving up, and losing the fight. Running away had been an end, and ever since then the world had felt weird, off-kilter, faded. But this was a beginning, and starting with Alaska’s mesmerising green eyes, the colour was going to return.

Life wouldn’t be bleak forever.

“We can stop and camp tonight, if you want.” Alaska suggested. “I have an old tent bundled up in the trunk, and I’m tired of creepy lay-bys at the side of the road. Might be nice to pitch up and light a fire for the night.”

Sharon smiled. It felt so good to smile, after everything. Despite the dark, Alaska carried an infectious lightness within her that seemed to be spreading. “Well, it’s not like we’ll struggle to find somewhere flat enough to sleep. There’s nothing out here.”

“Right.” Alaska giggled. “We got an abundance of nothing out here. How spoiled are we?”

“Practically royal,” Sharon laughed, her voice rasping slightly as she slipped into quiet, jokey song. “I’ve got plenty of nothing, and nothing is plenty for me…”

It was almost completely black when Alaska came to a stop and started to pull out the tent, deciding they had travelled far enough. It could’ve been twenty miles or two hundred miles later, Sharon wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that Alaska was enchanting and even though every single fibre of her aching body was screaming for sleep, she would happily defy her own needs if it meant she could look at Alaska for a little longer.

With only the help of Alaska’s headlights, they managed to assemble a somewhat pitiful tent. Nonetheless, it was a shelter, and Alaska’s assortment of random jackets, blankets and shirts made a pretty decent mattress in the grand scheme of things.

“Wait here,” Alaska grinned, her mood heightened by their small success. “You’re gonna love this.”

She stepped away from their camp and reached into her trunk, pulling out two bags and then slamming it shut. As she came closer, Sharon grew confused.

“Wood?”

“For the fire.” She shook her head. “That’s not the exciting part. This is the exciting part.”

She held up the smaller bag, turning slightly so that the headlights of her car could illuminate the packaging inside. Through the thin plastic, Sharon could make out a bottle of red wine and a bag of marshmallows.

“We get to wine and dine?” Sharon asked, only half kidding. “God… I wish I’d found you sooner.”

She was so beautiful. Her smile alone could battle the warmth of a thousand roadside fires.

“You have a lighter, right?” She asked, then laughed as Sharon rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Go light the fire, I’m gonna open these up. This is our late-night dinner, like it or not.”

As she flicked her lighter again and again on the wood, soothed by the hypnotic dance of the flames, Sharon sighed dramatically. “Not. Marshmallows are gross, they’re all sugar. It’s like eating a diabetic cloud.”

Alaska laughed appreciatively. “I can’t deny that…” She let the words linger, her accented drawl becoming more and more charming. “But hey. This is just… one of those serendipitous moments in life where two strangers who share a common denominator can sit together and roast marshmallows over an open flame and talk about their lives. I think there’s beauty in that, somewhere.”

It was so difficult not to tell Alaska that she was the reason Sharon could see beauty again. She held her tongue and reached for a marshmallow, skewering it on a stick and settling herself down. The two of them nestled in the entrance of the tent, their knees hugged to their chests, reaching towards the fire to warm them and melt their marshmallows at the same time. With the headlights off, there was nothing but the firelight to wash over them.

“I wanna know happier things. Things we can both relate to. Something that can connect two girls who love girls who are lost in the land of the midnight sun with no intention of ever going back.” Alaska’s voice was dreamy, slow. Sharon was sure she wasn’t real. She was too perfect to be real, more like a hallucination than a person, and yet she was living and breathing and soft to the touch.

They were holding hands, toasting marshmallows with the other.

“How about… girls?” Sharon suggested, with a quiet laugh. “You have a type?”

Their voices were low, like it was a secret. Alaska spoke louder, breaking the secrecy of it all. They didn’t need to be secretive anymore. They were safe.

“Any girl who looks at me twice, really,” She giggled. “I’m kidding. I don’t think I have a type, I wouldn’t know. Just… pretty girls, I guess.”

Sharon pretended to pout as she brought the roasted marshmallow to her lips, but it was hard. “Oh, shame. I haven’t stopped looking at you, so it only counts as looking once, right?”

“Look away,” Alaska instructed her, the smile evident in the tone of her voice. “Then look back.”

“And then what?” Sharon teased, studying Alaska in the firelight. It softened her features, made her look gentler and sweeter and less damaged. Her sweet soul could shine right through her pain, and Sharon knew it. They were healing. “You’ll kiss me?”

There was no answer.

Sharon could smell burning marshmallows and fresh night air. She could hear the flame crackling, and feel the warmth of the fire. She could see stars, and skin, and constellations of freckles. She could taste Alaska’s lips on hers, breathing new life into her body, awakening sparks from embers she thought had long died out. She was reborn, renewed, rejuvenated. Alaska tasted sugary sweet, like marshmallows, her lips soft and welcoming and full of promise.

They were okay.

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #tw homophobia #the land of the midnight sun #submission

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wandlores · 5 years

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Pin Drop

Pairing: Dolores Umbridge x Minerva McGonagall Words: 2,197 You can also read this on AO3. This is a Pre-Marauders AU for the @hprarepairnet and @slytherdornet Summer Challenge and all the HP Pride Month Challenges! Note: This has a very bittersweet ending and implies a lot of internalized homophobia (regarding Dolores). However, Minerva gets her happy ending, is a PROUD Lesbian, accepts her identity, and realizes who she is is perfect. I hope everyone reading this can relate to that regarding their identity. Happy Pride Month. You are beautiful and fantastic no matter who you love. Also, I plan on writing a fluffier fic for Pride Month soon. I love you all very much. x

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Minerva had always heard the worst things about Dolores Umbridge, but she considered it all to be school-yard gossip. She tried not to participate in such immature activities; she was above that. But she knew part of it was true. Dolores had a Squib brother, and it seemed like she tried to ignore his existence.

That, in itself, pissed Minerva off. You did not abandon your family, especially for something they could not help. That would be like abandoning her father just because he wasn't a wizard like her mother. It was wrong. Your family was blood, and you loved who you loved. She figured a Slytherin would believe in that if any wizard from any house did, but apparently Dolores did not. So rather than approaching Dolores or even trying to make her acquaintance, she avoided her all together, just like the gossip involving her.

What Minerva didn't know was that Dolores wanted her to notice her more than anything, but that was wrong in itself, just like she believed her brother to be. Or that is what her mother would tell her, anyway. And after-all, Dolores believed in everything her mother said. She had no reason not to.

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It was the summer between her sixth and seventh year, and Minerva was happy to be back around Muggles. Reliving her Muggle-like childhood was always refreshing to her; she loved that she had two different worlds to escape to. So as she walked down the dirt path of her hometown, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could smell the freshly mowed fields and the ice cream being served at her favorite parlor. Now, you see, Minerva was not the type to daydream. She figured it took her too far away from the practicality she valued most, but in that very moment, she let her mind drift away. She would later say that was her biggest mistake, but at the time, it was the best time she could have ever wandered off. Before she knew it as she walked with her eyes closed, she ran into another body. She opened her eyes quickly and started apologizing profusely. She was even more embarrassed when she realized she ran into Dolores Umbridge herself. They had never spoken two words to each other.

Dolores's blonde hair was blowing wildly in the wind as she held the hand of a younger boy. She had a stern look on her face as she looked up at Minerva. It was like she couldn't believe Minerva had the audacity to run into her, but when Dolores realized who she had ran into, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"I'm so sorry I got in your way, Minerva," Dolores told her, "I-I should have been paying more attention."

Minerva's eyes trailed down to the boy beside her. His green eyes were as vibrant as her mother's favorite jade necklace, and his hair was the color of the fresh corn the farm down the way grew every year. He was adorable, and it made her wish she had a younger brother of her own.

Minerva realized she still hadn't responded to Dolores and came back down to reality, "You shouldn't be apologizing," she told her, "I was the one walking with my eyes closed like an airhead."

She watched as Dolores smirked at her words. The little boy was now pulling at her arm and pointing to the ice cream parlor with his free hand.

"Dori, can we please go get ice cream now?" He begged.

Dolores sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Just a second, David, I'm talking to my-" But she paused. It was like she had no idea what to say, so Minerva finished her statement for her. To her surprise, it just rolled off the tongue.

"Friend. She's talking to her friend, David-"

Minerva watched as Dolores smiled, and it was the first time she had ever seen her look so genuine. It made Minerva's stomach flutter.

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That day, Minerva learned that Dolores in fact loved her brother, even though she had been told her whole life that his Squib nature was wrong. She could tell that part of Dolores believed it too, but she felt immense guilt for thinking so. Apparently, Dolores's mother always forced her out of the house with her brother when she was home during the summer. Her mother did not want to look at David, so Dolores would take him to Muggle villages to assimilate. Minerva thought it was ridiculous his mother could think he was bad; he was the sweetest boy she had ever met. If he had been a wizard, he would have been a Hufflepuff, for sure.

They spent the whole day together as Minerva showed them around her hometown. She even held David's sticky hand in her own as they frolicked through the fields and laughed for hours. She could feel Dolores's eyes on her the whole time. Sometimes when she caught her looking, Minerva even blushed. It was very unlike her.

At the end of the day when Dolores insisted they needed to leave, Minerva invited her to come again tomorrow.

And Dolores did. She did for the rest of the summer. Sometimes with David and sometimes without. Minerva had a new friend in the most unexpected person. That's why it was tragic when it came to an unexpected end.

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It was the week before they were to go back to Hogwarts. Dolores was the only one to come and visit Minerva that day, and Minerva found herself missing David. But only a little bit, and because it was only a little bit, she felt guilty. She wanted to spend more and more time alone with Dolores, but she didn't know why. Or she didn't want to admit why. She wasn't sure which reason it was.

They were sitting in their favorite field and watching the sun go down. Dolores was so close to Minerva that their shoulders were almost touching. Minerva felt like she could barely breath and tried to swallow.

"This has been the best summer of my life," Dolores admitted, "It has felt so nice to get away, and David has appreciated you so much. It is just-"

"Just what?" Minerva asked.

Dolores took a deep breath and turned her head slightly to look Minerva in the eye. Her eyes were hazel and nothing like her brother's eyes, but they were the exact same shape and showed the exact same innocence. Minerva found that endearing.

"I-I don't know if what I am feeling is acceptable," she admitted, "I just feel so-"

Minerva interrupted her, "I feel it, too."

Dolores looked down at their hands as Minerva intertwined them, and as the sun set, Minerva leaned forward to press their lips together. Dolores didn't pull away, but Minerva could feel her breath quicken. The kiss was gentle and innocent; it was the kind of kiss Minerva always dreamed of as being her first. She had never been interested in dating before, but now she understood what everyone was talking about. It just wasn't with the kind of person she ever expected.

As she pulled away, she looked at Dolores's flushed cheeks and the blonde fly-aways surrounding her face. Minerva smiled and felt at ease.

"If that wasn't acceptable," Minerva told her, "Then I don't think anything in this world should be acceptable."

Dolores didn't answer her with words, instead, she leaned forward to kiss Minerva again.

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After that night, Minerva did not see Dolores again until they boarded the train to Hogwarts. But Dolores didn't try to talk to Minerva, instead, she ignored her. Rather than letting this worry her, Minerva let it anger her. It wasn't until the next day after breakfast that Minerva approached her.

"So," she stated as she walked up to her, "I guess we're going to forget any of that happened? That this whole summer didn't exist?"

Dolores didn't say anything as she packed her books into her rucksack.

"Are you really going to ignore me?" Minerva asked.

Dolores finally answered her and looked her in the eye, "You ignored me for years. Why does it make a difference now?"

Minerva felt as though she was punched in the gut, but she tried not to show it. However, she failed, because she could see the slight glitter in Dolores's eye for making her point.

"I didn't think so," Dolores replied, and before Minerva could say anything else, Dolores strode away to her next class.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A month went by and Minerva had not tried to talk to Dolores, but now she felt ashamed. She felt ashamed for what she felt when she shouldn't, so she decided to confront her again once and for all.

Dolores was sitting by the lake and looking out at the water. Her bare toes were in the sand as the chilly October breeze ran through her hair. Minerva wondered how she wasn't cold, but she let that thought slide. She sat down next to her, and Dolores didn't say anything. Instead, she just grabbed her hand.

"I-I thought you wanted to act like nothing happened?" Minerva asked her quietly.

Dolores didn't look down at her, but she replied, "I do. I have to, I just want to have one more minute."

And so they did have one more minute that night, and many minutes after that night in secret. It wasn't until the end of the year that it truly came tumbling down. It was when Minerva found out the truth about David that it was over.

"Were you going to tell me your mom sent David away to an institution or were you just going to conveniently keep that to yourself?" Minerva asked her.

She was taking deep breaths and wanted to avoid the gossip, but it was big news when a Squib finally got sent away. She didn't want to believe it could be true.

Dolores didn't answer her at first and continued to fix her hair in the bathroom mirror.

"You love your brother. He is a sweet boy. You-you can't let this happen to him."

"He needs help," Dolores finally offered, "This might be his only chance to possibly get some magic out in the-"

"He doesn't have magic!" Minerva yelled, "And you and your wretched mother have to accept that! Just like you have to accept that you're in love with me!"

A long silence lasted between them; Minerva swore she could hear a pin drop.

"I feel it," Dolores whispered, "But-but I can't accept it and I won't accept it. It-it isn't right."

"That's what your mother says," Minerva pleaded, "Not what you actually believe. It's just like with David she-"

But Dolores interrupted her by kissing her. She kissed her so hard that Minerva's back hit the front of the bathroom stall. As Minerva tried to deepen the kiss, Dolores pulled away from her.

"I-I wish it could be different," Dolores confessed, "But it can't. My mom will never accept it, just like she won't accept my brother. I'm sorry. I love you, but love isn't enough."

Minerva tried to protest, but Dolores gave her one last tearful look before she ran out of the bathroom.

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They didn't talk again after that night, not until many years later at a reunion. This was many years before their feud started at Hogwarts during Harry's days. The hatred between them bubbled as Dolores ignored her feelings that night once again. You could never hate someone so much unless you loved them. That's what Minerva believed; that's what she knew when she saw that her patronus was a cat just like Dolores's. But Dolores never tried to reach out after that night of yelling and denial, and that made Minerva hate her even more. Especially when she found out she never did help her brother David and became the wretched person her mother raised her to be.

Loving someone was never enough to save someone from their own darkness that was inside of them. That's what Minerva learned that year. It was bad for her to daydream, so she no longer did. She looked at what she had in front of her and accepted the truth.

But she would always remember what it felt like to have her first love, and as she looked at Pomona as the Battle of Hogwarts ended, she was grateful she found love again. She knew the type of love she felt for women was not wrong, and she pitied Dolores that she could never understand that truth. Dolores would always be the one that got away, but at least Minerva never lost herself like Dolores did and became who she was destined to be. A woman in love with another woman. A mother to her students. A teacher. A friend. A woman who always did what was right.

Minerva tried to remember the blonde girl with the empathetic hazel eyes, but those memories faded with time as the truth became clearer. All she knew was that her passionate hatred was once fueled by love, and that was okay, because it made Minerva realize who she was.

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faunusrights · 6 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTERS 10 + 11

we had a week of peace and now we’re gonna get annihilated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have no clue how long this liveblog may end up but hell and high water i’m combining them both

she tore the jade pendant from her neck and flung it into the darkness.

let’s give a warm welcome, to sadness,

i’m very excited for all-new cinder content hhhhhhh if u havent gathered by now I Love This Bitch and I Love Her Many Problems so im thankful for this gift 😞

Cinder was a ruin, her pride carved and served like slabs of meat.

i can FEEL diesel n kc rly patting themselves on the back for every bit of wet meat they can toss at me!!!!!!!!!! U HEAR THAT I CAN FEEL U!!!!!!!!!!! but also i still love this shit w/ all my heart!!!!!!!!!! IM NEVER GONNA STOP SAYIN IT

She had never looked at Glynda’s files.

im so sorry cinder baby but that whole thing? is still HILARIOUS oh my GOD i cannot believe you fucked up that badly. u shoved yr entire head into a beartrap. u absolutely crapped yr pants on that one. yr gonna be thinking abt that on yr deathbed,

/looks at the chapter title again

hhhhhhhh im. so pumped. its gonna be hard to talk abt most of this w/o doing a million fingerguns a minute but i’m gonna try my best

Cinder approached the mirror and touched its silvered face with black-tipped claws,

I SAID IM GONNA TRY MY BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was iron barbs beneath the nail bed, glowing coals underfoot, the singular capacity to do harm. She was a beast, armed with fang and claw and a deep, dark void where her compassion should have laid, and she was dressed for dinner.

HHHHHH god YES THIS IS THE CINDER IM THIRSTY FOR............ i literally cannot say anything that isnt a massive 👈😎👈 but AAAAAAA

like im reading thru this and i cant cherry-pick lines this whole bit? is SO GOOD... kc n diesel are Yet Again obliterating me w/ their mastery of the narrative style of offal hunt and i just love all of this i rly wish i could explain how offal hunt is EXACTLY MY BRAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F U C K

The final touch on her mastercraft disaster: the four sawed-off horn stumps which grew among her silver-streaked hair.

HOOOO B O I i am. Losin it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER HORNS.......... CINDR...............

Wretchedly, she wondered: did Glynda even respect her now?

any other villain: my plan didnt work and im mad >:( cinder fall: my plan didnt work and now im mad but also mostly sad :(

CINDER’S TRYING HER BEST GOD.......... i literally hate how the remaster has made her So Soft, Actually... I BELIEVE IN U CINDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YR BEST

Every part of her was hot and hollow. She was sick with loathing.

i LOVE HER.... CINDER I HOPE U KNO THAT YR LOVED... god tho i dont like how SAD I AM RN... cinder’s so small and the world is so big and wants 2 Shit On Her blease

honestly like. im rly- LOOK I SAID THIS BEFORE BUT. this is why im rly lovin the new cinder content because in the first version we only got glimpses of her internal machinations and now we’re in full-blown Always Sad territory and everything is suffering :)

She blinked. Her double did not.

‘well’, thought murphy. ‘that’s terrifying.’

she’d only survived thanks to a keen instinct for danger, cultivated during her tenuous teenage years.

i NEED. I NEED. CINDER BACKSTORY. all these lil nuggets dont constitute a meal! I WANT A BIG MAC AND FRIES. WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS BABY DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also again. the body horror of offal hunt? peak content. Im Lovin It

its getting harder to divine what is and what is not a 👈😎👈 because we got bits sprinkled around and theres only rly a spoiler potential if u glue em all together so im still being extra careful and the answer is blared in everyones faces so this whole kondor scene will go uncommented unless some Bullshit Happens which it will, so,

When she had become so invested in Glynda’s approval? When had a desire to be recognized as something inhuman, something ferocious, something black and terrible and capable of keeping up with Glynda Fucking Goodwitch turned into this?

oh! oh! i have the answer! i do! i know the answer! it’s you a lesbian,

The spectres of her youth haunted this city, owl-eyed children and fox-eared teens. They’d been a second sort of family, the only kind she’d had within these walls, and she’d wondered what had become of them in the past decades, but…

It was too sentimental, and she wasn’t meant to be a creature of sentiment.

oh boy okay wow

okay so actually this bit made me cry??? fuck OFF im losing it!!!!!!!! LET HER BE SENTIMENTAL!!!! LET HER HAVE PPL TO CARE ABT!!!!!!!!!! IM LITERALLY CRYING IM GONNA DIE!!!!!!!!!

She would go barefoot from this point on, her heels clutched at her side. When she left the hotel room to steal into the night, she promised herself not to look back.

im sorry im just. so sad rn. i havent cried over a fic in YEARS and we still have another chapter ago i hate this SO MUCH..............

here comes chapter 11

if i cry even once more im going to stab!!!!!! im not sure what BUT ILL STAB!!!!!!!!!!!!

Even without his wings, the Manticore would easily have been twice the size of any of the other Grimm, far outstripping them in sheer bulk.

HATI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HATI HATI HATI

holy shit we actually get to see him this time!!!!!!!!!!! WE GET TO SEE THIS LEGENDARY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS CHONCC,

also hes a manticore now which is, Radical, may i just say, and just a little bit sexy,

The effortless grace in each move betrayed power most Grimm would not live to achieve. Once he stood, he had to dip his head low to meet her eye to eye. His canines were the length of her forearm.

if u werent here for the remaster? we never even SAW hati but now hes here, hes Big, and rly thats all that matters,

Like a child who’d been allowed to lie and lie until at last they’d strangled themself in the web they’d spun, Cinder couldn’t speak. Could only wait on his verdict.

every single one of cinder’s inherent themes is killing me and this business w/ family? stop. im dying. this is rude

The scant space between them popped and cracked like an sparking flame, warm and effervescent, and this time, Cinder lingered, hugging Hati close.

IF I CRY ONCE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IF U ASSHOLES MAKE ME CRY ONCE MORE I WILL DOXX YOU,

aaaaaaaaaaaaaah im loving this content i rly dont have words for it dhjfgsdfgjh i just, rly like the words, and the order theyre in, and i honestly keep forgetting to liveblog it cause i just wanna READ EM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tempting as it was—as it always had been, ever since she’d left the relative safety of the wastes and learned what happened to scraggly-limbed teens with horns and fangs and gleaming eyes—

with every chapter i desperately have 2 kno more abt baby cinder i HAVE to know i am so. UNBEARABLY CURIOUS... baby cinder what happened... what happened 2 u....

A lantern’s glow warmed her, bleeding into the darkness leeching at them both. It was a gentle gold across her skin, and like an answering signal from a distant outpost, Cinder saw a flush of light through the dark fur lining Hati’s throat, as though flames licked at his insides.

i forgot. that cinder glows like that when she feels Loved or full of pride and you know what i dont like these chapters. they were made to hurt me and i Dont Like That (im mclovin it)

From the safety of Hati’s neck, she found it easier—after all this time, he was still her bastion.

WHEN YOU REALISE? THAT YR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES?? STOP,

For a regular person, the machine would be able to draw out short bursts of power, the likes of which no Semblance could ever channel. The taxation would eventually destroy the soul so deeply, so thoroughly, as to leave it empty for good.

For a Witch? For—

the fact. she cut herself off before she could think ‘for glynda’. has me on the FLOOR. this bit is just So Much i dont like it

Glynda Goodwitch would not abandon this hunt. Cinder knew it, had read it from her palms like an open book—Glynda Goodwitch did not know how to stop. If it had been anyone else on Remnant, they might never return, might never pull themselves back into action after today—but Glynda did not have a shred of self-preservation.

me, knocking against cinder’s head: u kno for someone w/ so many schemes in yr brain yr pretty dumb and gay, huh,

firstly let’s talk abt cinder’s “””””””””””””””””””self-preservation””””””””””””””””””” instin-- whats that? not found? yes

[Glynda’s] eyes were empty, hungry, insatiable.

i feel like ive read this line before! lets jump back a chapter--

In [Cinder’s] eyes, there was a subtle, endless hunger.

WAKE UP CINDER SHE’S YR SOULMATE!!!!!!!!!!! THE COFFEE’S READY U CAN SMELL THE BACON FROM HERE WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With a fluid leap, they were in the air, the ground quickly shrinking beneath them. Pressing her face against his neck to shield herself from the wind, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for what was to come, trusting Hati to deliver her safely.

that said i ADORE my boy hati is literally the best part of offal hunt kc and diesel do not interact,

He was frozen in horrific anticipation, like watching an imminent tragedy and being absolutely helpless to stop it. Like all the tension was mixed with grief and hopeless, futile fear.

when will offal hunt be nice to me. when will any of these characters get to be happy. hello. im full of sadness.

The sound was like a saw working back and forth, but resonating inside her head, rattling every tooth in her jaw, deafening to her ears.

im literally gritting my teeth at this i can hear it in my own head and its Very Bad!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

okay god i can barely handle to quote anything more this bit is hurting ME so lets swiftly move on before I Die

Cinder closed her weary eyes, sinking into sleep like a shallow grave.

BE NICE TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BE NICE TO HER JUST THIS ONCE, PLEASE, IM BEGGING YOU,

They only knew death, only ever sought death; fangs and claws slicked with blood, magic rending meat and marrow apart, and everywhere that choking, scalding heat, spilled blood like magma, like the core of a planet.

hmm... that seems like a 👈😎👈 ~reference~

They were all alert, ears pricked, hackles raised like Hati’s. They all fixed on the same spot, somewhere beyond the darkness of the cave opening, and though she could barely think, she knew:

She was out of time. The Witch was here.

oh no.

okay so THATS CHAPTERS 10 AND 11! i only cried ONCE and u kno what thats. a Victory. these two chapters were VERY GOOD i rly loved em and i can tell new readers r gonna have a blast w/ this shit!!!!!!!!!! meanwhile i, a veteran reader, am full of peril,

terrible.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog #in this liveblog murphy ACTUALLY CRIES

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fizzyren · 6 years

Text

sappho

a super self indulgent rosemary PWP, short story short: Kanaya eats Rose out to a happy ending.

tags for: cunnilingus, sloppy makeouts, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Meteor Shenanigans, Mild Body Worship, POV Third Person, Wet & Messy, Oral Sex

this is cross posted on my AO3 I’d really appreciate if you gave it a read and some kudos here if you enjoyed <3

i remember why i cant write lesbian porn fics bc i get too horny oops

Rose finds Kanaya in the research lab. Or rather, Kanaya finds her.

Rose has made herself comfortable tucked into the table, book of choice open on the flat surface, elbow on the weird wood-metal hybrid to hold up her chin as her eyes roam the black letters. Line after line. Boring Alternian script detailing hypotheses and experiments in drab clinical steps.

Her eyes drew up to the transportalizer as it began to light up. Soon, Kanaya appeared, stepping forward with a stack of four books in her arms. The jade-blood doesn’t look surprised to see Rose sitting there.

“Hello, Rose.” The troll comes around to Rose’s side of the table to press a kiss to her black lips in greeting, smiling before she moves to the two rows of bookshelves on the far wall of the little room.

Rose gives up on trying to cram in information in a foreign language and turns around in the chair to watch Kanaya put the books back in their proper slots. A much more interesting subject.

They catch each others’ eyes every few seconds, sneaky and flirty glances met with smiles or winks and quick glances away. By the time Kanaya’s arms are empty, Rose is beckoning her over.

The jade-blood easily, happily, complies and stands in front of Rose, kissing her again before glancing over her shoulder to take a peek at the still open book.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed reading lusii climate exposure research.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Rose glances at the book as well, a sly grin pulling at her lips when Kanaya’s fingers pull her chin back around, “I was under the impression that this was a science fiction novel and I was just getting past the boring introduction.”

Kanaya doesn’t grace her with a reply, instead kissing her again, and again….and again. Rose hums gently, hands finding their way on Kanaya’s waist, trying to pull her in closer, perhaps draw the other girl into her lap. But Kanaya doesn’t come, no matter how insistently Rose tugs and begins to quietly complain against her mouth.

When they finally part, Kanaya moves her mouth to Rose’s neck, careful to not smear lipstick against her light skin. Rose leans back, bumping into the edge of the table with a sigh before her hands give up on tugging and begin to undo the fabric she can reach.

“I have doubts that this is the best place to do this,” Kanaya starts, still licking over the small new bruise she’s left above Rose’s clavicle.

“Nonsense,” Rose sighs, making a noise of triumph when Kanaya’s sash and skirt drop to the floor, “no one will come looking in here. No one else on this rock reads this shit.”

Kanaya ends up laughing. A combination of Rose’s profanity and obvious frustration in keeping Kanaya far away enough to pull both her shirts free is a little comical.

She has grown to be rather fond of Rose now. After taking a year and a half to warm up to each other on the meteor, they began dating, mostly in secret. Rose’s faux confidence masked anxiety and stress and self-conscious thoughts that only made themselves known under the influence of alcohol. Many awkward and, in Rose’s words, “shitty” dates led to deep philosophical talks on the floor wrapped in blankets, both girls falling asleep against each other when the hours droned by.

It’s been a long time to have Rose like this. Flirty and genuinely confident. Herself. Happy.

“You’re thinking too much again, darling.” Rose’s voice says gently, pulling Kanaya out of her thoughts.

“I was only remembering our time together when this all started.” lips press to the corner of Rose’s mouth, stuck in a pout.

“Remembering embarrassing things will only serve to ruin the moment we’re having.”

“Endearing, you mean.”

Rose rolls her eyes and ends with fixing the jade blood with a raised eyebrow and a frown.

“No. I do mean embarrassing. I had no idea how to act around you.”

“You grew out of it,” Kanaya tries.

Rose immediately comes back with, “it still happened.”

Kanaya takes Rose by the chin again and kisses her, hard, sure to press her tongue against the seal of her girlfriend’s lips to part them and dip inside. She’s lovely. So very lovely in the way the tension eases from her muscles and she leans into Kanaya’s touch like she’s starving for it. Kanaya pulls back.

“And I do not love you any less for it.”

Rose gripes in exasperation, banters back and forth with Kanaya through the rest of their time getting clothes pulled off and tossed to the floor. She’s still grumbling little protests as Kanaya kisses down her bare chest, over each breast and down further, the top of her navel, just below, further, further.

Manicured nails finally find their way into Kanaya’s hair and a sigh is gently let into the room. It is not the first time that Kanaya’s put her mouth on her, pressed her warm tongue inside, but every time it feels like the first time. Hot. Wet.

Rose’s legs splay wider to fit Kanaya’s shoulder between them, seated awkwardly on the chair so her pelvis is angled comfortably for Kanaya to fit her mouth against her.

Kanaya settles on the little chair cushion under her knees, knocked to the floor in their haste to get their clothes off. She chances a peek up, to check if Rose is comfortable where she is or not, and the verdict weighs heavy with the former.

Rose’s head is leaned back, blonde hair carefully fallen away from her face, not hiding the pink flush that runs from Rose’s cheeks to the top of her chest. Her small, pink nipples have already begun to stiffen and were Kanaya not so preoccupied she’d make her way back up to wet them and tease the sensitive skin with her teeth.

Rose seems to be a very avid fan of her fangs regardless of where she decides to drag them. Or in some cases, sink them.

The skin at the sides of Rose’s chest moves and slides over the tone of muscle as she breathes, gasps and sighs to make her moans quieter. Kanaya seems it as a challenge. She flattens her tongue and drags it wet and slow all the way up between Rose’s folds and over her clit, watching the shiver roll up Rose’s back to her shoulders.

Her black lips part, head dropping so their eyes can meet. That shy bit of Rose is coming back, subtle in the way Rose’s eyes get darker as she watches Kanaya’s tongue make the same hot slide from back to front again. The way Rose catches the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and squeezes before letting go. The way her fingers curl in Kanaya’s hair and push, pull, tug, skip at the base of her horns before letting go and trying to find the edge of the chair to grasp.

The flush on her cheeks brings out the hidden spatter of freckles across her nose and that little detail is the one that makes Kanaya groan and close her eyes. Keeping that memory of Rose’s face in her mind as she works her tongue faster, again and again until her chin is dripping with saliva and slick.

Rose’s thighs are trembling. Just a barely there tremor that tenses when Kanaya seals her lips and sucks, rubs the slippery underside of her tongue on Rose’s clit in languid circles.

Rose’s fingers suddenly have a tight hold on Kanaya’s hair again, not pushing or pulling, just holding on as she whines and whispers, “yes, yes, right there, just like that, Kanaya, please.”

She knows better than to switch the pace up now, especially when Rose begins to rock her hips in small little jerks until her legs tense up and her voice cracks on a sob. Kanaya would like to watch but she’s seen Rose’s face enough times to know. The gentle knit between her brows, the bitten off lipstick, her jaw dropped, eyes squeezed closed as she chases her orgasm. The way that as she comes down from it she purses her lips together and her face relaxes, shoulders slumping.

Kanaya doesn’t pull away until Rose pushes on her forehead and groans, shaking her head and mumbling “I’m done, I’m done.” Perhaps Kanaya would continue on just to hear her love cry and plea. But now is not that time.

Rose ends up pulling Kanaya up into her chest and then up enough to drag her tongue over Kanaya’s wet chin with a mischievous smile. Kanaya’s fangs ache .

They end up on the floor, Rose knelt over Kanaya’s hips and short blonde hair framing her face like a halo. She keeps a hand on Kanaya’s flat chest, and the other on her hip before slipping down. Her violet eyes are sharp, predatory even when dark and blown wide with lust.

“And for your reward…”

#not sfw #lesbians #rosemary #homestuck #i am...........writing from personal experience......#can you tell i am In A Mood (TM)#rose lalonde #kanaya maryam #rosekan #might write a pt two to this if its recieved well #this is my first rosemary fic so be gentle with me my darlings #my fic

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stillrecruitingrp · 7 years

Photo

The D.A. has recruited Nicky to the character of Padma Patil with a faceclaim of Naomi Scott. Sorry Padma, we didn’t see you standing there behind Parvati. Speak up next time, won’t you?

OOC Details

Name: Nicky

Age: 30+

Pronouns: she/her

Activity Level: medium; I should be able to post multiple replies three to four times a week, with an at least cursory online presence more often than that. Sometimes I get bogged down with other projects or deadlines, but I will always try to alert via the ooc when that is/will happen so my interaction partners aren’t left wondering where I’ve gone!

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge the potentially triggering themes and look forward to the uncertainty and excitement of the roulette.

჻ ჻ ჻ ჻

General IC Details

Name: Padma Patil; very occasionally called “Pads” (pronounced pahds or pods) by close friends or by people exasperated with her

Age: seventeen, Seventh Year student

Ships: I have no preconceived thoughts about ships for this character but in general the possibility of exploring hetero ships holds less interest for me than queer ones.

Gender/Pronouns: female-presenting lesbian who uses she/her pronouns (see “explorations” below for more details)

Face Claim: Naomi Scott (backup choice if unavailable: Alia Bhatt)

Desired Changes: no changes requested, but please note that I am more than happy to discuss changing any and all backstory elements presented here in order to better mesh with a prospective Parvati player’s ideas!

჻ ჻ ჻ ჻

BIO Questions

This game is Canon Divergent after the beginning of Deathly Hallows. This means, if a character is not at Hogwarts in canon, that can be altered (maybe Fleur goes to collect her husband’s little sister and ends up unable to leave the rest of the children there? Perhaps Harry comes back earlier…but why, and how? All of these things can be addressed and should be in your application!) Feel free to be creative!

Biography:

Please write at least two paragraphs describing your character’s background. While many characters have a lot of canon details, there are equally as many who do not. To check if your character has “set” information in this game please see the CHARACTER PAGE.

A child of wealth and privilege, Padma’s youth was easy and comfortable despite the occasional moments of culture clash between her parents (her mother’s family has had roots in Scotland and England since before there was a Scotland or England, while her father’s family only moved from India three generations ago when Padma’s father was still a baby). It was also a sheltered life, the outside world and its troubles being kept at a safe distance behind tall hedges and carefully-curated playdates with children of suitable upbringing. Reyansh and Adelaide Patil were protective (some might say, overprotective) parents who wanted to keep their precious little girls safe not only from danger, but from unhappiness as well.

Unfortunately for their parents’ plans -- but perhaps fortunately for the character and development of the twins -- they were curious girls who soon developed a knack for eavesdropping on the sort of serious adult conversations they were not supposed to be privy to. Thus when they entered Hogwarts at the tender ages of eleven, they were not as shocked as they might have been to discover that there were a wider variety of people and unpleasantness in the world than their parents would have liked them exposed to -- although the cossetted twins were still by no means jaded.

What was truly shocking was the separation that followed their arrival: Padma and Parvati had never so much as spent the night in different rooms before, but the Sorting Hat placed the one in Ravenclaw and the other in Gryfindor. This was horrifying and destabilizing for poor Padma. As a child she had always been content to follow Parvati, letting her sister take the lead so she could hang back and assess the data garnered by her brash interactions with the world from a safe distance before choosing her own course of action -- whether that be to follow Parvati’s lead, or run to mummy or bapu to fix whatever had broken (usually Parvati). She had never planned on how she would deal with a world without her sister to trail and consequently grew rather timid at first, sticking to her sister’s side as much as she could outside of class. She did make friends in Ravenclaw, but none of comparable closeness as Parvati’s new best friend and fellow Gryffindor, Lavender Brown (whom Padma spent a few years being incurably jealous of), and she was often quick to ditch those new friends to dog Parvati’s heels instead.

Some of her fellow Ravenclaws scorned her for her apparent fixation on fashion and gossip over more traditional academic pursuits, but curiosity takes many forms -- and Padma was a smart girl as well as a pretty one, and enjoyed learning magic. She simply also enjoyed giggling over the latest articles in Witch Weekly with Parvati and Lavender. When her sister suggested that they join an illicit student groups to practice for their DADA O.W.L.s, Padma was quick to go along with her both for the academic opportunity and for the chance to socialize more with Parvati and her friends. For once, she didn’t stop to think through the possible consequences -- but even if she had, how could she have predicted all this?

School Year So Far:

Please provide at least one paragraph describing your character’s experiences so far this year. If your character stays at Hogwarts over winter break, you can focus on that as well as if they left (why or why not) during the holidays. If your character should not be at Hogwarts, this is the space to develop how and why they came to be here. Note! Your character doesn’t have to start out at the school; if you’d be interested in having your character’s return be an event please make note of it here.

Reyansh and Adelaide Patil did not want to let their daughters go back to Hogwarts, but after the Ministry’s new policies went into affect they didn’t have a choice. They thought about leaving, maybe fleeing to Reyansh’s distant cousins in India -- but the risk of running seemed worse than the danger of staying. Besides, they knew their daughters were good girls who wouldn’t get up to any trouble; they would be all right for one more year.

Unfortunately for Reyansh and Adelaide, neither of the twins were very keen on behaving this year. It was Parvati who returned them to the ranks of the D.A. of course -- she was the one who shared a common room with Neville and Ginny, after all -- but Padma was quick to second her sister’s commitment for the both of them when the news was shared with her. She was less keen on some of the more bold (some might say, foolhardy) activities that the D.A. engaged in; speaking-up in class to politely argue with a teacher (even a very bad teacher, who accepted dissent with even less grace than had Professor Snape) was one thing but painting slogans on the walls and trying to sabotage parts of the school was something else. What if they were caught? What if they weren’t? It wasn’t until the Carrows moved from theory to practical lessons on the Unforgivables that Padma was willing to accept that they were a lot worse than merely bad teachers -- they were monsters.

That was what finally pushed her over the edge into enthusiastic, albeit still nervous, support of the D.A. and shored her participation up into more than lip service. She hasn’t managed to summon the courage (the stupidity?) to do anything alone yet...but as long as she has company to cling to, Padma is willing to put her neck on the line. To sneak around the school after hours and paint slogans, to mess with lesson plans, to booby-trap classrooms and offices, to eavesdrop, to pass contraband and secrets... The fact that her neck being pure means she has less to risk than many of the others is both comfort and goad: Padma never asked for special treatment...but does it make her a terrible person if she finds comfort in that little slice of comparative safety?

(I would like to make it clear that I am happily amenable to changing anything in here in order to find a compromise with the headcanons or background of any player wishing to join as Parvati Patil! I love collaborative character building!)

჻ ჻ ჻ ჻

OOC Questions

Writing Sample

Padma’s wand wobbled in her hand as badly as if she were still a clumsy, nervous first year fumbling with an unfamiliar bit of wood rather than the natural extension of her arm that the smooth haft of ash had grown to be over the last seven years. Of course, she had never felt so sick or afraid as a first year -- not even on her first night alone up in Ravenclaw Tower, although that had come close. But not even her first separation from Parvati compared to being instructed to cast the Cruciatus Curse on another person.

She glanced sideways at Professor Carrow, wondering if she could get away with begging off the lesson -- but then she looked at the rest of the class, and knew with devastating certainty that being excused would be the worst thing of all. Too many of her fellow Ravenclaws already resented her for her status as a pure-blood and the indulgence that afforded her. She couldn’t let them see her take such blatant advantage of her blood-status; they would never believe that she wasn’t a blood-supremacist herself, if she did that...

But that meant she had to cast the curse.

Padma swallowed, adjusted her grip on her wand (a useless effort; it felt alien in her hands no matter how she fiddled her fingers), and tried to look at Michael without meeting his eyes. It was hard; he seemed to be going out of his way to glare at her, or maybe that was just her imagination under stress...did he think she was enjoying this? He hadn’t hesitated for very long before he’d cast the curse on Terry during his turn, and they were much closer friends than she was with him...was he angry because he didn’t think she’d be able to do it, and he’d be Crucio’ed by Professor Carrow instead? The whole class knew that would hurt worse than being cursed by a novice, it was why they knew they had to hurt one another instead, to spare their classmates from even more pain...

Was he just resentful of the fact that as a pure-blood, she was less likely to be chosen to suffer the curse than any of the half-bloods in their class, like Michael or his friends? That wasn’t her fault, though! She hadn’t asked for the Carrows to take it easy on her, any more than Morag or Stephen did...but of course they weren’t in the D.A., so perhaps Michael didn’t take it so much to heart that they weren’t suffering as badly as the rest...

“Crucio,” Padma snapped, letting her annoyance surge out of the end of her wand. Michael yelped, cowering away from her, and Padma was horrified by what she had just done -- by what she had had no choice but to do. Beside her, Professor Carrow was nodding and smiling, and Padma felt sick.

At the same time, a distant part of her brain merely thought calmly, Interesting. Most spellwork was vulnerable to strong emotions, easily marred by the distraction that an unsteady mind would cause if not properly channeled; the Cruciatus Curse, on the other hand, seemed to be strengthened by emotion -- just as Professor Carrow had told them. Padma wondered why that was, wondered if the Unforgivables were perhaps part of a whole separate, unique branch of magic -- something as distinct as Transfiguration or Charms -- that had never been properly catalogued or explored, an entire subset that relied on heated emotion rather than eschewing it. The idea of anyone studying such magicks was repellent--

But, yes, also interesting. She couldn’t deny that; couldn’t deny that while mostly she wanted nothing more than to turn and run, to shove her wand deep in her pocket and never look at it again, to find somewhere private to vomit or shake or both...there was a part of her, a tiny but unmistakable part of her, that wanted to cast the curse again to see how different it would be if she was in a different mood. A part of her that wanted to study the Cruciatus Curse, to discover how it worked. A part of her that was curious.

A part of her that made her sick...but that wouldn’t be ignored.

When Padma returned to her seat, she put her head down on her desk and cried.

Exploration

Please provide four things you’d like to explore. This could be a character changing sides, darker themes, or basic fiction tropes.

Blood-Purity: Padma didn’t grow up with a lot of direct blood-prejudice in her life, but she did grow up in a culture that told her she was better than other people because of her bloodline. (She couldn’t help but internalize some of that, even if in her case it manifests more as “oh wow, that was a really good spell, especially for a Muggle-born!” than it does as “ugh get away from me, filthy Mudblood!”) Given the current political and social climate, it would be easy for someone like her to bury her head in the same and pretend she doesn’t see what’s happening to other people, pretend she doesn’t notice how wrong it is -- but despite her appearance as a spoiled pure-blood princess, Padma isn’t doing that. She’s fighting back. However...that doesn’t mean she doesn’t sometimes thing about how much easier things would be if she stopped fighting so hard for other people. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t sometimes wonder if those same people resent her over the fact that she doesn’t risk consequences as severe as the ones they face; doesn’t mean she doesn’t sometimes resent that, because how dare they? She didn’t ask for this privilege, didn’t ask to be protected by the so-called “purity” of her blood; how dare they blame her for that? Shouldn’t they be grateful instead, that she’s putting her neck on the line for their sakes? It’s an ugly train of thought and she’ll be ashamed every time it crosses her mind, but that doesn’t mean it won’t show up sometimes. I want to explore the nuances of blood-supremacy from the angle of a “good” pure-blood -- someone who’s fighting against Voldemort, and who didn’t have to turn her back on her family to do it (her parents her to stay out of the fight because they’re afraid she’ll get hurt, not because they’d burn her off some family tapestry if she gets too cozy with “the mud”), but who comes from the same world as so many of his most lauded followers. I also want to explore the opposite side of that coin: what kind of prejudices do the Muggles have that wix like Padma don’t? (We know from word-of-god canon and implied book-canon that racism and homophobia aren’t major issues in the wizarding world, although how that actually works is a little wobbly...but I think it does mean that at least on a superficial level, the wizarding world is a lot more color-blind and accepting of diverse sexualities -- and possibly genders, too -- than are the Muggles, especially in the 1990s. I intend to play Padma’s family like that at any rate, however other players choose to go with theirs.) How would someone like Padma react to finding out that several of her friends come from families who think it’s a sin for someone like her to kiss another girl -- or a white boy, for that matter? She won’t take it well, that’s for sure...but could it be enough to push her away from the D.A.? Enough to make her briefly betray one of her fellows out of hurt feelings or anger, even if she regrets it after; even if she never meant to hurt the D.A. as a whole, but just to take one ugly bigot down a notch? It doesn’t seem likely that it would be enough to push her far enough to inspire her to join the other side...but to make her sit out the fight? Possibly...or possibly it could lead to a schism within the D.A., with the pure-bloods and more traditionally magical children like Padma still committed to the fight against Voldemort but on their own terms...and the D.A. is far too small and fragile to survive a division like that for long.

Curiosity: Padma is a Ravenclaw. That makes her inherently curious, and while her curiosity has always been turned more toward gossip and fashion and giggling with Parvati and Lavender, she’s curious about other things too -- like weird, old, forbidden magicks. (Who wouldn’t be curious about things like that?) Magicks that Hogwarts students never learn...but that the Durmstrang students who were here a few years ago talked about, when begged and flattered and bribed. Magicks that the Carrows now have them learning, even practicing on one another. Padma is the good girl that her parents always wanted her to be; she hates the very idea of the Unforgivable Curses, hates the fact that they are forced to use one another for practice; hates the fact that they are even being made to cast them at all. But she can’t help but be curious, too; can’t help but be interested in what they’re learning. It isn’t a type of magic that she ever thought she would have either the opportunity nor the motivation to study, and frankly she’d still rather refuse the chance...but since she doesn’t have that choice, she might as well make the most of it, right? That isn’t an attitude that is going to endear her to many of the other members of the D.A.; maybe isn’t even an attitude that her own sister would be able to face without horror. It isn’t a very Gryffindor way of looking at things...but Padma isn’t a Gryffindor. She’s not her sister, even if sometimes she’s wished she could be. She’s a Ravenclaw. And she likes to learn. But oh, the lessons the Carrows offer this year...are they the kind of lessons that anyone can draw anything positive from? Or is all use of Dark MagIc by its very nature corruptive and evil? Maybe it’s possible to use the ugly lessons they’re learning for good, for the good of the D.A. and of Hogwarts at large; wouldn’t that be a good use of what they’re so unwillingly being taught? But even if that pragmatic attitude has merit, can Padma get anyone else in the D.A. to agree -- and if she does, what’s the price she (or they) might have to pay?

Friends on Both Sides: growing up in the upper echelons of pure-blood society didn’t just mean that Padma had a comfortable, indulgent childhood; it also meant that she had friends from that society long before she came to Hogwarts. Maybe they weren’t close friends (she has a twin sister, so she didn’t need to make close friends with anyone else, back then, before the Sorting separated them) but she knew them, played with them, laughed with them. People like Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy...she knew them, before they all came to school and went their separate ways. (Padma couldn’t even being to count how many dolls’ tea parties she shared with Pansy Parkinson, once upon a time, even if she wanted to.) And now those people are her enemy? Just because they don’t agree on who deserves to have magic, on who deserves to be in charge of the world? It’s hard for Padma, because unlike so many members of the D.A. who only ever saw the bad sides of the people they’re fighting against now, Padma’s known them from birth. Sure, some of them she’s disliked from birth...but the rest of them are just people. They aren’t (weren’t) monsters, they were friends...and fighting friends hurts. It isn’t exactly like having divided loyalties -- but it is very, very close to being that. And if approached by one of her old friends, what would Padma do? Would she cut them off, turn her back? Or would she listen? Would she care? I’d like to explore the difficult situation that Padma’s social position and childhood history put her in. It’s not something that many of her fellow D.A. members would understand or sympathize with, but it’s got to be hard for her to look at a person she knows as a childhood pal and think “that is my enemy.” From Harry’s perspective, which the books are narrated from, they all fall pretty neatly into their slots as “bad people he never liked to begin with” but that isn’t how someone like Padma is going to feel about it; she’s going to see them as people she’s known all her life, as friends and parents of friends. As people who might have come to her birthday parties, or who would wave and smile at her in Diagon Alley, or who shared jokes over homework in the library. Maybe she doesn’t have any close friends among the “enemy camp” (and maybe she does) but they aren’t strangers, and they aren’t villains. They’re people -- and that means no matter what she does, she’s going to feel guilty because she’s hurting people she knows. Maybe even people she likes, but definitely people she knows. Maybe that will make her more lenient, more trusting, more inclined toward mercy; maybe it will be the opposite, with Padma being especially firm in her commitment to Dumbledore’s Army because she doesn’t want to be called-out for sympathizing with the enemy. Either way it isn’t going to be neat, isn’t going to be cut-and-dried for her. And that’s fascinating to me. She could wind up being torn in two if someone playing one of her old friends seeks her out (either genuinely or through ulterior motives) and tries to play on her sympathies, on their old connection; she could use those connections to insinuate herself in their confidences and play spy for the D.A.; she could use what she knows about them to hurt them by helping plan strategy to take advantage of weaknesses the others aren’t familiar with; she could sabotage D.A. plans to avoid hurting people she still likes too much to turn her back on completely; she could take them at their word and inadvertently court disaster for her friends; etc!

Gender Twins: if a prospective Parvati player is interested in exploring the twins’ gender identities I would be delighted to jump on board with that, whether that involves making one or both of them trans or nonbinary (maybe they’re “identical” twins because the one is regularly Polyjuicing the other in order to get a body she feels comfortable in? Maybe one of them is really a boy who was assigned female at birth, and he hesitates to “come out” because he doesn’t want to risk growing apart from his sister? Maybe they’re both trans, and the label of “prettiest girls in school” is something they worked hard for -- or something these nonbinary twins resent? etc). I thus hesitate to specify Padma’s gender identity in too much detail yet beyond the basic label of “female presenting” because I want to leave that open for possible later shared exploration with my fellow player. (If no Parvati player materializes in the opening weeks of the game, I may still end up exploring these themes on my own...but I’d rather do it in concert with an in-play Parvati than with a made-up NPC one, of course!)

#recruitaccept #padma patil

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skold · 7 years

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this post is Marina’s List Of Favorite and/or Iconic Music Videos

this could also be subtitled as: if you truly want to understand me as a person, watch these videos because it’ll answer a lot of questions

it’s gonna be a long one so i’ll pop it under a cut

alright we goin by artist then chronological

AIDEN

knife blood nightmare - this is iconic for me simply bc i rly wanted to look like wil in this video so bad in 6th grade.

die romantic - WHAT A BOP. i used to do my black eyeshadow like wil in this video too lmao

ALL TIME LOW

poppin champagne - because blonde alex and also?? honestly?? what a wild video. this is truly late 00s oversaturated pop punk at its finest

i feel like dancin - i’m not the biggest fan of this record or even this song in general but this is like, quintessential all time low to me video-wise. like. it’s everything i want from an all time low video.

ARCHITECTS

follow the water - or as sam carter says, follow the wah-uh. first of all i love that this is in a church. second of all when will i get to go to an architects show this lit here in the states

heartburn - bc they all look pretty. ok. aesthetically on point as well.

AVENGED SEVENFOLD

beast and the harlot - i don’t always bop this song but when i do, the whole cul de sac does too. no but really this was so influential to middle school me i wanted nothing more than a boyfriend who looked like zacky or jimmy and whatever eyeshadows zacky was wearing in this clip

BLINK 182

i miss you - the video that inspired this post. THE AESTHETIQUE. 20′s inspired romantigoth film noir. i don’t yell about this music video enough.

BRING ME THE HORIZON

chelsea smile - it’s literally just a house part video but the song literally defines the year 2009 for me. emetophobia warning at 1:08

it never ends - this video got mad shit but i love it. pretty heavy gore throughout this video

alligator blood - CREEPY ASS AESTHETIC SHIT!!!! i live for it. 16 y/o me had it so bad for matt nicholls and him getting tied up and violated was like, god tier for me

visions - more creepy aesthetic shit. the videos on there is a hell were underrated

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA

hey john what’s your name again? - i gotta throw this one in just bc this hurls my ass right back to the year 2008. that bible imagery. those haircuts. it was a better time for music

html rules d00d - THIS SONG STILL SLAPS LMAO DON’T READ ME

ELISSA FRANCESCHI

salt - i’m not crying you’re crying!!! how did anne and christian franceschi manage to spawn two flawless and talented siblings!!!!!!

EVERY TIME I DIE

ebolarama - it’s a performance video in a roller rink what more could you want

wanderlust - you’ve probably caught on to the fact that i love creepy aesthetic shit.

decayin with the boys - THIS VIDEO HAS ME HOWLING. there are too many good moments to list here but the personal highlight is the dude admiring the lesbians making out, then he turns and admires they gays making out at about the 1:30 mark. also the jenga dream sequence. there’s a dick in this video, just a heads up. and a whole bootyass. i love andy williams. mild emetophobia tw at 2:30

FOXY SHAZAM

a dangerous man - eric nally’s screeching was the soundtrack of 2008

i like it - the chorus of this song is literally just “that’s the biggest black ass i’ve ever seen and i like it” and i have nothing more to say

holy touch - it’s a performance video but it’s. different. i really don’t wanna ruin this by saying too much about it. that’s just kinda how foxy shazam were. this song is a fucking banger. yes, they did have a trumpet player in the official lineup.

FRNKIERO ANDTHE CELLABRATION

joyriding - another performance video that’s. different. lmao. aesthetically perfect

GOOD CHARLOTTE

lifestyles of the rich and famous - the proletariat banger we weren’t ready for in 2002, but we’re ready now.

girls and boys - old people being punk rock. that’s all.

predictable - i SPECIFICALLY remember watching this on the good charlotte website the day this dropped. THE EARLY 2000S BAD CG IS REAL. i was literally ten years old but i somehow Felt every word of that spoken bridge, man. WHEN THE LITTLE GIRL GIVES JOEL THE ROSE AND IT TURNS BLACK i deadass thought that was so fucking dope y’all

i just wanna live - ignoring the irony of joel whining about being famous, this video had THE MEMES.

GREEN DAY

longview - iconic simply by virtue of being their first video.

when i come around - ask me about my favorite songs of All Time and i’ll probably mention this one. it’s still great nowadays. i love all the shots of berkeley.

brain stew/jaded - this is such a great piece of art lmao the fucking. sludgy feeling of brain stew going into the chaos of jaded is great on the record, but even better in video form going from being stoned in sepia to tripping acid in an oversaturated cluttered space

walking contradiction - comedy gold

hitchin a ride - creepy weirdness and an iconic bassline. also mike dirnt looks fine as hell in this video

minority - i’m running out of ways to explain that a video is iconic to me purely bc of how important the song was to me at a given time lmao.

american idiot - is there anything i can truly say about this video? it was perfect in 2004, it’s perfect in 2017. uncomfortably relevant. epilepsy warning for strobe lighting effects in the second half

holiday - technically this was released before blvd, but since it chronologically precedes blvd in the story, i’m putting it first. this is like 90% here for the bridge section y’all. fucking iconic. i wore a fedora on the first day of sixth grade bc tre cool wore one in this video. not my proudest fashion moment. emetophobia warning at 1:56 but them playing EVERY character in the bar scene is perfection

boulevard of broken dreams - ah yes, 2005′s most overplayed song. i could not escape this song. every time the intro started everyone would just look at me bc i was The Green Day Chick. this video is aesthetically perfect though. shout out to mike dirnt’s jawline in profile

HOZIER

work song - first of all, this song makes me cry. second of all, the video is dreamy as fuck. it gives me irl chills. i love the choreography so much. the whole vibe is very modern southern gothic. and it’s incredibly intimate feeling without being... sexual or vulgar, i guess.

IN THIS MOMENT

adrenalize - first of all i’m gay. second of all i’m gay. this video is decidedly nsfw

whore - aesthetically pleasing. chris motionless being subby is the real highlight here

sick like me - again, it’s here for the aesthetic.

big bad wolf - also aesthetic but THIS MAKEUP LOOK. maria’s makeup look in this video is actually literally my aesthetic goal. epilepsy warning for strobe light effects

sex metal barbie - say it with me: aesthetic. i also love this one bc the lyrics are largely lifted from people talking shit about maria on the internet, shaming her for being a woman with sexuality and agency, so fuck yes i support it. mild body horror warning for this one

JOHN 5

making monsters - john’s videos are mostly performance based but this one is so cute lmao. where do i cop a j5 action figure

LADY GAGA

paparazzi - i’m only including the RLY vital gaga videos here and the full version of paparazzi is her best work imo......

bad romance - .......but bad romance is a close second.

telephone - i can’t not include this one though. the collab of the decade.

LINKIN PARK

one step closer - i think this was the first linkin park video i saw Back In The Day......... it was 2 heavy 4 baby me at the time lmao but nowadays it’s one of my fave lp songs. the video is super corny let’s be real but it was 2000

numb - this song is so fucking emo but i love it. the video is like peak emo too. i swear the main girl in this video was like my fashion icon at the time. layered tank tops, ripped loose jeans, oversized hoodies and jackets. i wanted her hair so bad lmao

what i’ve done - this video is really visually solid. i thought this was like the Deepest Shit in middle school lmao

MARILYN MANSON

sweet dreams (are made of this) - THE CINNAMON TOPOGRAPHY!!! god i have no complaints about this video except that twiggy is in it. visual fx?? dope. wardrobe?? dope. location?? dope. manson in the wedding dress?? dope. unsanitary warning for the later half of the video bc manson gets pooped on by birds lmao

tourniquet - one of my fave vocal performances by manson tbh. i prefer this one of the two videos floria did w/ manson.

long hard road out of hell - femme manson and religious imagery need i elaborate

the dope show - the first manson video i ever saw. i was... so creeped out lmao. LOOKS ON LOOKS ON LOOKS. john 5 lookin like a snack in this one

i don’t like the drugs (but the drugs like me) - this is probably the most heavy-handed manson has ever been with the christ allegory lmao and yet......... i love it. also shout out to manson and rose’s dogs bug and uncle fester for guest starring. body horror tw here

coma white - basically a flawless music video i have nothing to say here that isn’t already said by the video itself

disposable teens - everybody looks great in this one except twiggy fuck twiggy. i actually love the mtv version of this video too, which is all performance, but i can’t seem to find it rn??

the fight song - one of my fave manson looks. those boooooots tho. the gloooovessssss. i’m gross let me live

tainted love - sorry to send y’all to vimeo for this one but i couldn’t find one on youtube that didn’t look like it was filmed with a potato or watermarked. y’all slept on the genius of this video tbh

mobscene - hello it is me gaogfucker666.

this is the new shit - still me, gaogfucker666. this video feels misinterpreted too honestly

(s)AINT (director’s cut) - specifically the director’s cut bc more tim skold in a dress and boots smoking a cigarette. this video is seriously fucking nsfw. needles, drugs, sexual content, vomit etc watch with caution pls

personal jesus - i love this glam rock look so much. tim looks so good in this he never wore the look again bc he knew he looked so good we could never handle it a second time.

putting holes in happiness - I CAN’T FIND the extended version with tim’s full solo and i wanna scream. but. here’s the official version

say10 (short) - i really fucking wish he’d compounded off this for the official say10 video, beheaded orange man or not. just the verse. it’s so good. moody and creepy and AHHH.

we know where you fucking live - heed the warning at the beginning lmao. i honestly loved this video. i know some people thought it was edgy but i rly rly don’t see that. it’s offensive and obscene yeah but it doesn’t have that edgelord feel, as much as i love to call him an edgelord.

MOTIONLESS IN WHITE

reincarnate - old school horror vibes!!! as a Humble Fetishist of Boots and Gloves, this is a great video. also this is one of those songs where i Feel the lyrics for real

eternally yours - THE COLORS!!! THE FUCKIN IN A COFFIN!!!! i have nothing more to say

MOTLEY CRUE

looks that kill - please watch this corny ass fuckin 1983 ass hair metal ass music video. please. i’m tryna add more shout at the devil era nikki sixx vibes to my wardrobe tbh

wild side - i love a late 80s arena performance video ok also where do i cop nikki’s shirt

dr. feelgood - i will always credit this as one of the songs that made me want to play bass tbh

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

vampires will never hurt you - too emo to view with the naked eye.

i’m not okay (i promise) - the video that spawned a million high school AUs. god i love this one. even watching without the nostalgia goggles it’s great.

helena - perhaps my favorite music video of all time? if not then top 3. this video still remains my ideal aesthetic 12 years later. HOW I’M TRYNA BE. i just wanna look like an extra in this video, okay.

the ghost of you - time to cry!!!!! emetophobia warning at 0:47

welcome to the black parade - it’s hard for me to talk about these videos bc they’re so universally iconic that to explain why i love them so much would be mostly redundant.

famous last words - see above. this song means the world to me

desolation row - if i had to pick a video other than helena to look like an extra in i’d pick this one. has gerard ever looked this good, before or after this video?? peak.

NINE INCH NAILS

down in it - these are getting linked to vimeo since the official nin account has them all uploaded there in better quality. anyway i love so many of the shots in this video and i love the colors and i love bab trent

head like a hole - SO dated y’all but bab trent leveled up and became baby dread trent.

happiness in slavery - this is seriously graphic. but it’s great. also where’s the extended version that shows trent getting eaten by the weird carnivorous robot

gave up - bABY BRIAN!! infants, y’all. INFANTS.

march of the pigs - it’s a one-take performance video but it’s...... so much more than that. this video hurts me in my hand/glove kink.

closer - this is in the top 3 with helena honestly. it is... a piece of art film before all else. a Must Watch.

burn - another case of a video being important to me because of the song it’s for tbh.

the perfect drug - marc romanek is a GOD. also a piece of art film honestly. just y’all wait till i make my dnd character based on trent in this video lmao

starfuckers, inc - hm, another nin video that trent invited manson to be in. interesting. all memes aside it’s a great video even as much as i hate the use of the “fat = ugly” trope. epilepsy warning for flashing effects in the last part of the video

deep - why. are. y’all. SLEEPING ON THIS!!!!

only - this may have been the first nin video i willingly saw and recognized as nin. this video still holds up, especially with it being 95% cgi and still looking as good as it does.

ROB ZOMBIE

living dead girl - the theme song of my life??? iconic couple costume idea????

meet the creeper - i have to include this video because it’s BAD. it’s terrible and i fucking love it

american witch (live version) - WHEN ROB PICKS UP JOHN AND STARTS SPINNING HIM AROUND!!!! this is here specifically for all the long hair john content

dead city radio and the new gods of supertown - the aesthetic. everybody looks great. matt is in a gorilla suit

well everybody’s fucking in a ufo - highly nsfw. where do i begin with this fucking hot mess...... sheri’s huge fake boobs. john and matt and ginger as astronauts. john jerkin off. the aliens with dicks. the fact that the whole story is about getting gang banged by aliens???? nothing will ever reach this level

SKOLD

self titled promotional clip - epilepsy warning for a lot of flashing and smash cuts. sort of a few partial music videos in one, but there are only two official skold videos, so i gotta include both of them. the quality is garbage. it’s so incredibly 1996. yet i love it. the last song, anything, is pretty nsfw as in there’s actual femdom porn clips but this is why i love it.

better the devil - if there were more skold videos i’d put them here. but as i said there are only two. tim out there lookin like not just a snack but a full course meal in 4k quality. goddamn. the only man i can ever truly call d*ddy. tiffany and eli lookin like delicious side dishes as well.

TAKING BACK SUNDAY

you’re so last summer - flava flave is in it

this photograph is proof - this song makes me so fucking nostalgic............. it transports me right back to eighth grade lmao. tbs were one of my fave bands in middle school.

makedamnsure - the most emo song of all time?? side note regarding tbs: real talk, being fat in middle school, seeing another fat person in a band was so fucking reassuring and great. i love eddie.

liar (it takes one to know one) - these visual effects are SO cool, even now.

YOU ME AT SIX

jealous minds think alike - ART... no but actually look at these literal fetuses. i fucking love this song. it’s probably my fave track on take off your colours.

kiss and tell - you right it’s another house party video BUT. baby josh with an undercut. he must be 18 or barely 19 here??

liquid confidence - WHEN YOU GOT NOTHING TO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE

stay with me - jkfljkghdfskljgs okay serious time: this song got me through a seriously rough part of my life and i have the title tattooed on me partially because of the video.

loverboy - i have never seen a fandom in such utter chaos as the ymas fandom was on the day this video dropped. holy fucking shit. the THIRST was REAL.

bite my tongue - peak ymas captured in one music video. that’s truly the most important part. that peak sns era ymas was preserved forever in this video.

lived a lie - is it bad if i still kinda want a “we are believers” tattoo lmao. i really....... love this song a lot. is it obvious by now that ymas love a big chorus lmao

give - this song gives me The Feels. it deserved better than a performance video in an empty arena but it’s all we got, so here it is.

#well this took for fucking ever #and will probably get no notes bc it's a personal post #which is fine but #i hope y'all appreciated my commentary anyway lmao #do not lose #i will likely update this as my faves continue to release gr8 videos

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