spookyfishisspooky:

liz-squids:

apocalypse-angel:

feminae-feminas-amant:

alltheladiesyouhate:

i don’t want to read lgbtq fiction i want to read genre fiction with lgbtq protags

alright friends i was thinking about this earlier and so i put together a list of some good genre fiction with lgbt main characters:

LESBIAN

  • the abyss surrounds us by emily skrutskie (sci fi/dystopian, woc protag)
  • ascension by jacqueline koyanagi (sci fi/space opera, disabled woc protag)
  • serenity rose by aaron alexovich (paranormal graphic novel)
  • everything leads to you by nina lacour (contemporary, but not “about” lgbt issues/coming out/anything like that)
  • afterworlds by scott westerfeld (contemporary/paranormal, woc protag)
  • beauty queens by libba bray (not sure on the genre; not sure how good this is, haven’t read it myself)
  • sword of the guardian by merry shannon (fantasy; warning for attempted rape scene)
  • huntress by malinda lo (fantasy, woc protag)
  • the dark wife by sarah diemer (fantasy)
  • seven by jennifer diemer (fantasy/fairy tale retelling)
  • bleeding earth by kaitlin ward (horror/fantasy; haven’t read this either, not sure how it is)

GAY

  • proxy by alex london (dystopian, moc protag)
  • more than this by patrick ness (dystopian i guess? not sure how to describe the genre tbh)
  • the star host by ft lukens (sci fi, haven’t read)
  • hero by perry moore (superhero)

BISEXUAL

  • god’s war by kameron hurley (post-apocalyptic/sci fi, bi woc protag)
  • coda by emma trevayne (dystopian, bi guy protag)
  • adaptation by malinda lo (sci fi, bi girl protag)
  • beauty queens by libba bray (see above, major bi characters)
  • ash by malinda lo (fantasy/fairy tale retelling, bi girl protag)
  • the young elites by marie lu (fantasy, lots of bi characters all around)
  • the scorpion rules by erin bow (dystopian, bi girl protag, haven’t read but i hear it’s awesome)

TRANS

that’s all i’ve got right now! i’m a lesbian so the lesbian section has the most books in it lol, but if anyone else wants to add some more books for gbt people (especially trans because Yikes that section is small), that would be awesome!

Reblogging this again to add some. A lot of these are mixed groups, so I’ve left them loosely organized, genre in bold:

  • The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin – Dystopian Fantasy. PoC cast, transgender, gay, and bisexual characters.
  • A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray – Historical Fantasy. Lesbian and bisexual characters.
  • The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater – Urban Fantasy. Gay and bisexual perspective characters.
  • The Circle by Mats Strandberg & Sara Elfgren – Urban Fantasy/Horror – Lesbian and bisexual perspective characters.
  • On The Edge of Gone by Corinne Duyvis – Post-Apolcalyptic/Sci-Fi – Transgender characters
  • And I Darken by Kiersten White – Historical Fiction – Gay (and bisexual???) perspective characters. 

Drive-by: 

  • Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee – Space Opera – the heroine is a lesbian with an immortal bisexual traitor/military genius living in her head. The author is a trans man. 
  • Dragon Oak by Sam Farren (available on Amazon/Kindle at the very least) – High Fantasy – the heroine is either bisexual or a lesbian and the badass knight she travels with is a lesbian. There’s also gay kings and lesbian queens with adopted children who are completely able to succeed their parents.

Also, lesbian non-human lady who is the best character ever and I love her.

It’s part of a series that I don’t have the funds to read the rest of, but the first book is easily one of my faves ever.

@fuckyeahasexual has a list of books and media that has ace/aro spec protagonists, which I notice are missing from the original list.

greenreticule:

If Jane Austen wrote The Empire Strikes Back:

He dueled him for many a long minute, and then trapping him at the end of a gantry, removed his hand from his wrist. Luke was surprised, but said not a word beyond his cry of pain. After a silence of several minutes, Vader came towards him in an agitated manner, and thus began,

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to offer you a place at my side to throw down the Emperor and reign over this galaxy.”

Luke’s astonishment was beyond expression. He stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This Vader considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of ambition.

“You do not yet realize your importance, and only now have begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy.” 

In spite of his deeply-rooted dislike, Luke could not be insensible to the compliment of such a Sith Lord’s offer, though his intentions did not vary for an instant. He attempted to compose himself to answer Vader with patience as per the training Yoda had attempted to, but the pain from the end of his arm and the longstanding list of offenses against his friends gave Luke great trouble in this manner, and he replied thusly,

“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot – I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I will never join you.”

Darth Vader, who was leaning against the railing of the gantry with the gaze of his mask fixed on Luke’s face, seemed to catch his words with no less resentment than surprise. His fist tightened with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every movement. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not speak, till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Luke’s feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,

“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

“I might as well enquire,” replied Luke, “why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to hand me this offer after removing my own? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the offer of the Sith Lord, who has been the means of hunting my friends across the galaxy?”

He paused, and saw with no slight indignation that Vader was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse.

“Can you deny that you have done it?” Luke asked.

With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying it. I have done everything in my power to crush the Rebellion and rejoice in my successes.“

Luke disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate, him.

“But it is not merely this affair,” Luke continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Obi-Wan Kenobi. On this subject, of my father, what can you have to say?”

“You took an eager interest in that Jedi’s explanations,” said Vader in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.

“Who that knows what his understanding of the Force has been, can help feeling an interest in his worldview?”

“The Force” repeated Darth Vader contemptuously; “yes, the Light Side of the Force is great indeed.

I am convinced in my knowledge that Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.”

“He told me enough,” cried Luke with energy. “You have long ago killed him!”

“No” said Vader, as he leaned across the railing towards Luke, “I am your father. Examine your feelings; you know it to be true.”

Luke felt himself growing more ashamed at this revelation, and despite his utmost efforts, a distraught denial left his mouth.

“You can destroy the Emperor,” continued Vader. “He has forseen this, and this is the estimation that I hold you in: it is your destiny. If you would but join me, together we can rule the galaxy as father and son. Come with me; it is the only way.”

Trapped as he was on the end of the gantry, it was clear what decision lay ahead for Luke, and again his intentions remained unaltered. With a calm descending upon him, Luke spoke with composure when he said,

“You are mistaken, Vader, if you suppose that your entrapment of me will mean the entrapment of my loyalty. From the very beginning, your actions, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your murders, and your imprisonment and torture of a young woman, were such as to form so immoveable a dislike that I had not known you a day before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to call father.”

To conclude his statement, and provide great shock to Vader, Luke stepped off the gantry.


@epix-elle​, this is the result of your “Darcy Vader” comment

THIS IS AMAZING!!!

noneedforsuspicion:

another cute exchange in a really good fic, 

Undoes by @doozer-doodles !!

This is right after they get out of the fade during Here lies the Abyss.

While the focus of the fic is Dorian’s time travel shenanigans and Bull, his relationships with other characters really shine, especially with the inquisitor (f!trev) and sera. 

I really just love this fic, and I definitely recommend it if you like Dorian/Iron Bull!!

Things You Said – 23.

jawsandbones:

Recommended Listening: Outside Your Locked Heart – Wixel

things you said when I began to trust you


Hawke hums as she pulls the
wine bottle from her lips, passing it back to Fenris. She was the only regular
visitor to his mansion. Tonight she had brought dinner, a medley of things
cooked by Leandra. Fenris brushes back his hair as he eases into the chair,
took a sip. “Your hair is getting long,” Hawke says from the bench, her elbow on
her knee, chin in her hands. Fenris takes a section of his bangs, holds it
before him.

“I suppose,” he says, setting
the wine bottle beside his chair.

“You should let me cut it,”
Hawke says as she leans back, stretches, her arms in the air, eyes squeezed
shut. She gives a contented sigh as she eases back into a relaxed position. “I
cut Carver’s hair all the time and he doesn’t look awful.” Fenris chuckles,
shakes his head.

“I am offering,” Hawke smiles. It’s not too long before she has Fenris
in a chair, in just his tunic, a towel around his neck. She sits on the table
behind him, bare feet on the edges of his chair, scissors in her hands. He
flinches at the first touch of her hand at his hair.

She doesn’t start cutting yet.
She simply eases him into the touch. She threads fingers through his hair,
light scratches against his scalp, until his shoulders relax. Only then does he
feel her gather a few locks, hear the scissors coming together. “Who are you
taking to the Deep Roads?” He asks, closing his eyes. The crackle of the fire,
the snip of the scissors. Hawke’s thoughtful hum.

“Carver would likely murder me
in my sleep if I don’t take him. Varric for sure. Anders for if things go bad,”
she says at last, brushing away loose pieces of hair from his neck.

“You should bring me,” Fenris
says.

“Oh?” She says, amusement clear
in her voice. “And why is that?”

“I owe you a debt. The Deep
Roads are dangerous,” he says. He hears her put the scissors down on the desk
beside her. His eyes open as her arms wrap around his neck, her face appearing
beside his as she hugs him.

“Why Fenris, you do care!” He
grunts, but says nothing, his cheeks coloring, and a hand on her arm. “You’ve
already paid that debt,” she says softly, “almost every day since. The Deep
Roads are going to be miserable. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck down there
with me.” She leans back, releasing him from her embrace, moving back to her
task.

He’s been sleeping in his
armor. This is one of the few times he is out of it. The only time he is out of
it in front of another person. A mage, of all things. Hawke. A friend? Even he
isn’t sure. His ears twitch as hair falls free, tickles against his neck. He
has his back to her, a sharp thing in her hand. He should be… fire crackling,
snip of the scissors, and Hawke’s occasional hum of a long forgotten lullaby.
He closes his eyes once again. It’s safe, in a way he’s never felt before.

“You should take me,” he says
firmly. She laughs softly under her breath.

“Alright Fenris, I’ll think
about it.”

Anders being reunited with Ser Pounce a lot

un-shit-yourself:

A lot can happen in ten years; cities can fall, Hawke’s beard can develop strands of grey, and kittens can grow into giant, cranky bastards.

“Well this is just unfair. I swear to you, he never lets anyone hold him, not even me,” Mahariel complains, watching Anders nuzzle a surprisingly docile Pounce as the beast purrs loudly, gently kneading paws the size of sovereigns against the mage’s thin tunic. 

“It’s because he missed me and he loves me, yes you do, don’t you?” Anders cooed, smiling into Pounce’s orange fur, not minding that it would stick to his damp cheeks out of relief that his cat hadn’t forgotten him after all this time. “I missed you, too.”

bigquidditchhero:

Inspired by this post. Because while I can completely see why Harry became an Auror, teacher!Harry also holds a lot of appeal …

April 2006

The sky had been threatening rain for hours, and now down it came, no doubt to
the dismay of the handful of students out on the Quidditch pitch. Watching from
the window of her office, Professor McGonagall discerned a few Gryffindors
amongst the group and smiled. They had a good team this year, though perhaps
not as exciting as previous years. The Seeker, a slight third-year girl, showed
promise, but certainly she was not in the same league as a few of her
predecessors. Charlie Weasley, for instance, or …

She moved away from the window and glanced at the clock. He was late. She
wondered, not for the first time, if there was much point in holding this meeting.
She could not allow all her hopes to lie with it; there was, surely, only the
slightest chance that he would agree.

The knock on the door came as she was settling herself behind her desk.

“Enter!”

She was amused to observe the slightly hesitant way in which he came into the
room. He pushed back his hood, looking around. His eyes lingered on the
portrait behind her desk, but Albus was asleep – or at least, Minerva thought,
pretending to be. A few of the other portraits called out greetings, and Harry raised
a hand in acknowledgement. 

Keep reading

barrel of a gun. (zevran/warden # 2)

elfapostate:

prompt: “AU”.

word count:  1434

A/N: The sniper/modern!AU that no one asked for !!! I’m proud, really.

zevran/warden week post: (x)


His line of sight was clear.

The crowd below shifts about, anxious, but oblivious to everything spare for Arl Eamon’s charming words. Zevran lays in hiding, waiting for the right moment as the excitement only continued to build and the kingdom held its breath once again for the spectacle to come.

A speech was to be made and a successor’s face revealed, the near-entirety of Denerim having come out for this announcement. News helicopters floated high above them, dizzying and loud, but in Zevran’s experience, added attention only created greater confusion. Once they had found the correct window in the correct building, he’d be gone. In his wake, an empty sniper perch and a calling card:

The Antivan Crows send their regards.  

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leliaanaa:

siegfried of redwall

for day two of zevran/warden week, prompt: au

okay this one is kind of different from my usual stuff bc im trying to emulate brian jacques’ style. it should still make perfect sense if u arent familiar w/ the redwall series tho, never fear! this took ages to write & its rly late & i have work tomorrow so if there are any mistakes i’ll fix them later lmao

3,000 words


It was late summer, and Mossflower country bathed in the fading golden glow of approaching twilight, tugged gently by a peaceful breeze, steeped in the balmy warmth that heralded the advance of a dusky September eve.

Set between rolling meadows and and deep velvet of Mossflower Wood, edged with a dusty ribbon of roads, Redwall Abbey stood tall and welcoming, high brick walls spread with ivy that lingered on the cusp between tawny green and burnt red. High above, the bell tower towered over the ramparts, casting lengthening shadow over the cloisters below. As evening drew on, the great Joseph Bell struck out the hour with seven deep tolls, resonating across the surrounding countryside and echoed by the muffled chimes from St Ninian’s.

Within the high walls, warmed by the sun, myriad small creatures went about their daily tasks, unmolested by the troubles of the outside world. Here a mole, tending the abbey’s small garden; there a field mouse, herding a group of youngsters inside; and was that Brother Jowan, teetering in the branches of a plum tree? It was, and he looked like to fall.

All was surveyed by the careful eye of the Father Abbot, an old mouse by the name of Cyrion, whose whiskers were near as long as his years. Grey of fur about the ears and nose, he nevertheless wore the habit of Father Abbot well, caring for each creature beneath his watch with wisdom and patience. He shook his head at the sight of Brother Jowan perched so precariously in his pursuit of plums – what an energetic young mouse he was! Always bobbing about, eager to please and yet somehow troublesome all the same.

‘Be careful, my son!’ he called out as a warning, but he needn’t have worried. A nearby squirrel had seen the danger, and now she dashed up the tree nimbly to rescue the poor mouse. Siegfried was a familiar face at the abbey, often seen catching smaller creatures as they fell from branches or the ramparts. Abbot Cyrion knew she could be content here, if only she let herself; but he also knew unrest coiled in her bones. She was never still, her tail always twitching, always looking for signs of trouble. Peace sat uneasy on her shoulders.

He nodded his thanks to the young squirrel as she passed, but anything he had to say was cut off as the peace of growing evening was rent by a sudden hammering on the ancient gate.

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