Latest Posts by raethanbhanneth - Page 5
I do the opposite of gatekeeping, I’m not going to shut up until you like this thing as much as I do
Nine-Fingers Keene
Artist: Nils Hamm
A lil bit more Karlach/minthy but moslty, Karlach strong back time
kill the imposter syndrome in your head because not only is there someone out there doing it worse than you, they’re also using chat gpt to do it
"You can't protect everyone."
I have to try.
Which is why cats respond so well to ‘pspsps.’
In the native dialect of Lesbos, Sappho's name is spelled "Psappho". I sometimes picture what it would have been like if that had been the spelling modern English had gone with. Imagine being psapphic.
Sappho, If Not Winter: Fragments of Sappho (tr. by Anne Carson)
my mom said we can hide in the woods, cast ancient spells, be embraced by moss and befriend eldritch creatures if it's ok with your mom
Just doodles.
LINK: tinyurl.com/oldgaySF
I'd like to share with y'all a project I've poured my heart and soul into over the last couple of years: a database cataloguing every single older queer science fiction book I've managed to track down, consisting of just over 200 titles with LGBT characters/themes & by LGBT authors, spanning over a century (1880-2000) 🚀
The database can be filtered by representation, subgenre, whether the book is currently in print, and more; additionally, it includes my own ratings & brief thoughts on the ones i have read, if anyone needs a suggestion on places to start! (or feel free to shoot me an ask for a more personalized recommendation)
Edward Hirsch, from "Late March"
So I love that we now have canon gay couples but the fact that they weren't allowed to say this was gay means they were next level over the the top with how many ways can we show gay without a sex scene
cuddle s ,kisses, soulmates ,rescued from death , Sappho s poem ,who's the daddy , domestic bickering,naked bathing .
I've probably missed some
my best tip for anyone trying to get back into reading is to remember that you can read books to avoid other responsibilities in ur life and it can become a vice if you play your cards right
What would it be like to meet one of our closest human relatives from 75,000 years ago in the flesh? Scientists have produced a remarkable reconstruction of what a Neanderthal woman would have looked like when she was alive. It is based on the flattened, shattered remains of a skull whose bones were so soft when excavated they had the consistency of "a well-dunked biscuit". Researchers first had to strengthen the fragments before reassembling them. Expert palaeoartists then created the 3D model. The representation appears in a new BBC Studios documentary for Netflix called Secrets of the Neanderthals, which examines what we know about our long-lost evolutionary cousins, who became extinct about 40,000 years ago.
Continue Reading.
Greenfinch, Green Witch
"You think you're a darkness, Astele. Only a shadow; a ghost in my life—but can't you see you're really the moon? The light that brings me out of that blackness and guides me home?"
I just stared at you after you'd said it, mouth agape, and chose to focus on the gold flecks in your hazelnut eyes instead of saying anything. Because how the fuck was I supposed to answer that, Harper? What the fuck was I supposed to say? You waltzed into my fucking Guildhall, noticebly unholed, then talked to me like I was the love of your fucking life? How the fuck should I have responded, Harper?
Should I have told you that you're the only brightness in my supposedly cold, dead heart? That you're the sun to my moon and the dawn that greets me every morning? What the fuck should I've said to you?
Probably all of those things. But you changed the subject before I could snap my mouth back shut. I don't even remember what you said afterwards - your words were too busy gnawing away at me, hollowing out a hole for them to take root in like you'd just cast a vine spell directly into my chest.
But… none of that matters now. Now I'm trodding along the dusty brown dirt path that leads up to your little cottage in the forest, bag of holding thrown over my shoulder. It's a charming little place, deep within the woods, small and cozy. The walls are covered in thick green vines that twist and twine wild around the cottage, climbing up to the thatched roof to reach towards the rays of sun that barely break through the dense tree canopy. White smoke rises in thick clouds out of the chimney, lush green and purple herb beds line the walk and front of the cottage, and patches of pink, white, and yellow wildflowers sprout here and there.
Grandmother, my sweet Jaheira, my green witch. All green things grow for you and all animals call you friend. I call you my love.
As my feet carry me ever closer and my eyes dart around to take in every ivy covered tree and moss coated rock, I realize I'm quietly singing and wonder how long I've been at it with a shake of my head. It's a tune I'd written for you after the first time we'd kissed:
Amidst the forest green
I seeketh me a rose
Within the sunny brambles
Where the elder oak tree grows—
I meet within the wood
A maiden bright and fair
With eyes of golden honey
And silver gray of hair—
I sayeth to the maiden
You're the most beautiful rose
And I hold her to my breast
Where the elder oak tree grows—
Stupid, I know. Such a silly little thing to have warbled at you. I didn't even sing it to you until a month later, and when I did, you kissed me even sweeter and called me your greenfinch.
I stop to watch a black and gold bumblebee awkwardly dance around one of the pink pops of blooms that lines the path. It buzzes and sways in the air before almost crashing in the middle of a blossom to load its legs up with bright yellow pollen. There weren't bumblebees in the Guildhall. Beer, gnats, liars, and thieves. There was the occasional flower there though - you.
The admission, although mental, makes me chuckle because when the fuck did I start talking like that? Nine-Fingers Keene, ruthless Guildmaster and famous rogue.
Retired.
Retired and moving into the forest to live with her ancient Druid and retired High Harper girlfriend. I can hear the echoes of laughter that would have filled the Guildhall if anyone other than my Ladies Court would have ever found out. I tried not to love you, I did. But you - you made me fall for you with your smile as soft as light and your skin smelling of moss and fresh rain. How could I not fall head over heels?
Mol, the tiefling that once sought shelter in the Guildhall as a girl has replaced me. She's even smarter and more cunning than me if anyone can believe it. She'll do more than well there. None of that matters to me anymore. Nothing but your enchanting smile matters to me anymore.
Suddenly, I find myself surrounded by a little army of bunnies you've created for yourself. A spy network, I tell myself, as a brown and white spotted one with long, floppy ears rears up on its hind legs to sniff my trousers. I let it take a good, long whiff, and then it's off, racing towards the cottage like I'm here to set you on fire. Maybe I am. I watch the little rabbit run right up to your wooden front door. It turns to face me and looks me right in the eyes while it lifts its little brown back leg and thumps on the door in rapid succession. Tattletale.
But then the door opens and there you are. Your halo of gray hair, left down to be wild and free like your spirit, spills over your shoulders like a waterfall of silver stars.
"Astele," you gasp as if you didn't think I'd come. Of course I'd come for you, Harper. You've got some green witch enchantment on me. That's what I'd told myself all those years, after all, before I finally admitted that your face was the last one I imagine every night before I fall asleep.
My arms are swiftly full of my Jaheira; full of the warmth and brightness of the sun in all its splendor, and when your pillowy lips meet mine there's an eclipse. The yellow moon that is encased in my heart thrums and pounds in my chest, tight against the bones that cage them that ache and shiver only for you.
"You're finally here, my little greenfinch," you ghost against my lips.
How could I resist?
For @ixievee - thank you for the inspiration!
The moon is shy (revised), 2025- mixed media (watercolour and colour pencil) on hand made cold pressed paper.
This painting was inspired by a beautiful photo by @raethanbhanneth.
Some lore: in my sapphic, tumblr ridden soul, the sun and moon are lovers. They get to see each other for only a few hours each day in the quiet hours of dawn and dusk. And when they part, the sun leaves golden kisses on her lovers skin, a tender reminder etched in the freckles on her cheeks. ❤️
Martha Gellhorn, from a letter to David Gurewitsch featured in The Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn
mintharlach is a perfect ship and I will die on this hill
karlach is so incredibly good
minthara is a gremlin
karlach sees mintharas cold pragmatism for what it is, which is caring in her own way
minthara sees how karlach has been taken advantage of and is having Precisely None Of It
anyway I love beach dog/wet cat
The moon is shy (revised), 2025- mixed media (watercolour and colour pencil) on hand made cold pressed paper.
This painting was inspired by a beautiful photo by @raethanbhanneth.
Some lore: in my sapphic, tumblr ridden soul, the sun and moon are lovers. They get to see each other for only a few hours each day in the quiet hours of dawn and dusk. And when they part, the sun leaves golden kisses on her lovers skin, a tender reminder etched in the freckles on her cheeks. ❤️
Timelapse 🧡💚
romancing minthara as karlach is so Fucking Cute
it's the black cat/golden retriever dynamic everyone loves
but also karlach my beloved you gotta get you a wife who's ready to swan dive into hell with or without you
Been replaying bg3 and karlach is getting the women.
Really wish we could have gotten an dark route karlach
still hoping someone's gonna datamine/mod jaheira romance one day soon. i'll wait. i just hope it happens.
What if we ran away and lived in the forest together?
What then?
can i kill myself for a second
two knights fucking yah just really going at it CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG ya know
fanfic writing culture isn’t “oh dang! I wanted to write about this prompt with this character but someone else already wrote it, so now I can’t”.
fanfic writing culture is always “two cakes is better than one. the more the merrier. there can ever be enough fics of this character with this prompt!”