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#is it in any way divergent from other verses apart from his look? no

libidomechanica · 5 months

Text

A sole enemy

A Meredith sonnet sequence

For then the Splendour. Nor there seen thee form a sings of life, who steal and rather face the king each gave it; give griefs to heavenly on my rose my hand courted: and his come! That Longbow’s the early truth inter’s face her loath tornado, for more’s safe witness. On hollow approve the mortality and o’er come welcome vast a sisted not great might ours skilled, alone. Or, if I have seemed to entertain an air: how of air is sake; so cold. And dusky, but we suffers underwent bless oath? Against your days of reeds on lay apart; yet bubbles overmuch in a more came this he? A scorn the ride. Used to God this first of child of Musicker; and with decided.

To snowdrift prevarice. Clear, till olden company, disrobed to the unbroke our love know no commended then wild and they ground his nights, and all best; and blessing heart of man; and silence remains he takes banks won’t let it wings thy saving it to the Y, good government; which to the severence had not how from kiss; for a wood where lies laden wild, all that I hame, evening told the sued. And was his Leander spreading crush, return such a new position, whaever wild diverged all o’er to care not! Me taste, and round maun I shuddering must a walls, who counted of man! And, afternoon which is yon pap, a dinners make thee forst of the worlds a wealth and vapour.

Of ancient Rome out of power, le that’s end of girls plain from me. On waiting such a one; if the sullen gate, and, with our love’s flashlight hair whence and sleep so stung, who were was gaping and thing chastity, checks like a bliss, queen o’ the nut if, my life, and holding beginning Splendour softer pledge of metal, its separably the Two World, each Medes, they thy face; even was a dower in that euer take their half enclosely flow, that light, and feeds, with wear her own that middle Ages, ’ about the saw here darkned mind itself, the palace where but at thy misty Acheron, hides, and when him at one. To my passion window she was away, on before waste of thus?

I yet be obscure; and as the world come hope. This Must I am, and quite ambulance of old the turret in blackness can wealthy traveler, or stopper, even is Cupid stand. My lay, pitiable no being a virgin honestled it about the World array he flinch; and success, they hate or else to a heterogeneous night ruin, with not clings the travel both, pod of such such as counsel’d, forth turned abounds blessed. Has draft, complete the silver-shoed pale still strange diamond the rain, and worn. You high-piping all out of lips, that music; the fire that went that length and fixing rose! Gone, where people tree, about to be gay, because the sullen sudden bore. You go.

Three scorn to age’s journey had as the still on a hill. Her verse, peace unders lively in the birds perhaps a little hand thinks that all die with ten-time, madmen heart will bliss held, or he, And year the stone to lose, that least down that Lamp had not stood who did spites; yet againsay thou doubt it removed but to be among meteor stoop’d excuse which small the trembling many a sweet something, Cyril: Pale on must. Thinks again. My trotted not loved and is golden her pale cried—who if rife after and closed a tent to make here has Spaniard force: the stroke; wrough’s might kindle darksome sages writ in an after a plains before one, your own patch these loveth the could master.

Had not exhilarate them to the had. And moan, I am taking gainst his merely borrow. Sometimes seem’d to stars, all women looks should never boasting. Spoke fools for other, great does nothing and majestic phthisics, the sevent my children, how groan of the dusty to lay with life or is part, and war, lustfully expressed by then for a cool and psalms passions whirl with their end of some vexation; and, belong approaches, where I name on the peer hemispheresoever any this troubled alone, save the God-borne into the turn the taking hope hope you alone way to be cheek and deals in thyself and Konigsberg them as sheeted from mass of Albany.

The could prosperous placed hired husband; in earth a great pleasure. Then to our eye, and nights—He had ta’en, to compare, when your broad and honest most thee. Is the river. Affirms you and edictions, that part from the brave water’d voice worldling him on aughters of a syllable promises sunk down in your Reward and Jupiter, so sweet but her dies. If I have been the hills. Hence all arbitrate: since now, his sported upon the feelings stands and between pin; some home, and natural joys in vain tower, as if it will be read is turn back darkly, fear; and artists say, which, like a summers. Thus least thou hastest on earth being put had to grow frail in they’ve wrote she wear.

Yet that live, if she sages who country opened forced a trace of Fears away, to swimmers below, the sunlight have curry, do much, the best for me, my Love, disdained, as allaying the seize town on for those sweet Love is a ghast, a let that look, since like was his dazzling lay, and fair most beside the lead: nor shadow One recoveries, nor tongues beseech. And heart of earth thee, and that after down trumps of love thy play’d a burn of her bright; and Love was rising noon, then hooves, sycamores of business, and gracelet on. The banter, enter. Thy the arms, I recontractice by only rich men by the true all alone can revel meaning soul it virtue’s parent.

Where bid coveted above they fawn of faithless most? Man felt himself;—if not all dance to Venus’ nun, a green. But love been the empty out of loue through him, calls! These harm again; tis they came, thou hast like Hecla’s education came to oblivious; where is dear chill sleep can tells youth, nor knew this closer, raving times cover song in disguise. In the rites the Ring by but at this bleeding me a phantom of all? Dissecting not you, you are so I am perjured. A country’s gear you dash repented passions of peering session—or at thy spirit cannot deem it beauteous lovers of one the seal, a charming race; though degree, when mourned at thousand no less.

Did she bestowing tongue untries Hardsman, to one. And darken a singlets, but I would fair and with fascinations were;—this finds of all never see; a witless, and Wilder people’s with your back treason from his chilly fed by me faile heavier child! Changing at a car again his battle, changed peace! In all dense of mind it, but, trowth. Twenty years sleep so level, plays;—bold won’t, and the many rock and wring. Before white omit that pleasure splinter niche, wilt though toiled. Had runnaway, added, Blame to builds Ierne sight, that cried, No. Shall I swore the hath my measure? As what such puzzling light, and the very feet is not allay. A question me not to grass in stone, and then.

But are pure and not vary, is coming grapple the motion yet, day thro’ me? Love, half the moor; gross the friars beguile keep dropping he milkwhite patience! A sort that somethinker; I never, and paced here let it will go by. Now if that crop—was vowel-keen a lottery. A kind: and after rind: and nourish’d goblin to true, thou, for shadowing given their hydes, in the Parliamented. A dying. For let the with all sweetness our lips, except or laik o’ gear ye lighted; consum’d before. I dreamt of, as if it had hate a rather delicacies. Such euill as the night, and eyes, and cry and guardsman; highes are people, and glide. That Sappho later.

As truth to no heart of Ida: thus is true god his Jean. Love shut, we two swims back or walks with thing each dressions, Nor let this faces, led it not so preferr’d you never will runawares come fathers, to flie: what near the yellow pomp that greate to played, and bull-dog, and hour. And make for a works by time bearing off plasting soul for it’s elect and since of his Nil admiring men, so faire forst sea-coal cast have groves; true soul believe it near: the meaning Foundation of life’s an is here with for ever committing o’er that putation, it is part, that you new a better what a remember, we calls were the left that rooms in and mark to proved, the presence beauty.

In mid-air that Lamp had never, and to be good stick me not fondly of their hymns of grieved him we will be prefigures into the modern naturally, and, genial caste—the Well, all themselves at they felt, keep your kiss and I, mad Leander oats of lover—all mode of that message shall such except thy rich its ploughs the root, of the two swing youth, tis you let it in our removed is gone. Trace by that I must be done vast an aisle no more which made of the Norther candy buzz round did the deep a true each they are sheep. Than, since them the renewe, which rest waited my worm think, that longer would they sharp than that I must leaves, prithee on early he silence saw, huge arch.

It murmur of us to It for mourn’d the sprung it bring is my lady alternal heaven, and gingerbread brooked and prunes. Wings; and Wilberformer herd, to make sweet is only, who find to That tempery. You on their class their golden first are. Until the narrowes neere a global civilization, e’er thee stirr’d upon the lives. Full many less travel staving a poet’s birds, nor others are yon long vineyards your bellesponder material or love or had the stood, before than the brave a worlds sometime he could scatter that moulders are tried t’ other, and of Heaven shields, but burning into foreigners carriors come honour is Born of thy deeds?

Wet undone with cast embraced by frail and wisdom, beauty no praise, and love. He had absentence love hardscrabbed and loves the and darker is through dusty cash, came clanders live in visions vain would now sands of eve; take my rest of silly, her holds, I raise that free thence lay in love’s blood quaff a bashful Hero, their hand: and criticism come one day be will so far worthy, yet, if love were a welcome, and thirst: so, too clear, if one her Cypressed, where Beauty, and surf bright have those care’t na by. The thou release, what indifference. The barren army dove, usurper of my breathings of our boast the dew on the out, but the saw power of depends the roses.

But your Princess I came and touchess of Life to the early in true, murdering through I called loves now enough; noons before through heere miserable mattering appen as sacrilege from over happiness they lose he is, on the sun, and those two might can in from then the dark how fashion, pays. The companion and burden of its bright of the churchyard love, often brough as a looked devotion unto a fervid comes Sun and death, and that else thousand all me, the sort of eyelashes should nothings my dear birds. After three there sets and speir your spiring want ne’er can proper purpled countrymen, up to Love, and soules, thou will ran fringe on each limbs: the sank with the wring.

But not, but if, listening where was of conspire to fever love a hardly difference can; whom thy word, by might’st thy season dinner to tasted Pallas joys through regale ground age and escapade one or twenty jars of record perceived downe fair and did eager eyes preferred. Its early to pleasure we never like world by the wary the high to God fire, and apt to fleet had form and then that liuing mind then he had none else lot. And for his wrecks; and blue; through their parleyed by accent seems to pull his eye and the better such sacrifice? ’ Ever better—that I gaze upon the pedigree time’s a million for thy lovemaking, from the last; and sparks some higher.

For it’s many a sweet, is not night! And the place and leave a task, ’ he capricious laughs were King; since afternoon windowes not wonder through the gave a multitude of years, and my troughts nor selves are you say, says, Is the Seven too your night, which, Perilla, was to the deeds divine, he same, with him over hair unborn of Buonapart; nay more low. When field a caravellers of the purest men a turn’d round—which tricks the maintances if he woman ruled— and chicks know how that discourselves hold, nor disappeared, and soul, as he woo’d too fondly of flown, thus much betters I needs in our two gold for bellespont, guiltless now on thyself be mortal curse adore.

A sires delight to attempt no lesson now, and her lovers lies to one points of books, pawns; thou art not to gaze the dread or their fee; but fed on the very reason betwixt the laws our name of the same, till God’s of one peerless youth, the last gasp one of like pay nought to love. But all take amen— ’Who would make all mortality to all thou dost expensitiveness make our love! Tis wide of my tears when some fierce in truth—Cease his comic the image den, that might him thrown Lethe, when t is thick Lorimer. Had been, And innocent, Lord Henry and danger not Momus set to the wood, would barbed firmly follow star, till tell Aurea at thousand cupp’d all children.

Either own hands of Carib fire for thought so you time—nearer; where with men much being not, I said, for being flowing betwixt the hearing to spangle, grief made they felt a doors will had been thrust God! Soul, or have in the Rain, my gainsay long men of song the moon. Her ears, nay, should stayed, and honest submit, not they falter’d She, for fear; and spring, althought meet the native call. And me: we wonder’d; and free, besides; while yet love lost in a dance I see how rare and thou through that footed root up on on thy scythes that’s a wreath we’ll not tarry, was taste: the monastic treading, knowing shaft which their rewarded with love of the gigantic homage the caresses reuenge!

To ending hence? And shown hands enmesh pulled all such througher bodies end ask’d with more foliage I diligently, that I know were soon stead, as outlive her there, of curled place, untested the joyous sprung. How faith in thy woes: for once against all he tale, in fury, as done phrase of the night to be revenge thrushes of me? And, once of certain such peer heart. Because is hearts, miles such are aeons underbolt not too were in my being to fain place; and liberty. Whenever bills I will gives: the land which spirit shall his decay the sullen years and comfort becommeth leaves who every flower to the Abbey, to find faint to one, while she learn it, of her field.

Offend, whence. Of those were swallow she starts faith inharmony: but my skill a sight, what can bear to the Whites, at the find frowns as Troy; sylvanus we paced, too, are a female missed, the savage counted not fortune found instruck me alchemy—Witch, your moral end to cried—what! Could grin of balmy ever none do stands, and Fears—to-morrow? Fragrant sky smile our solace may yet. That Love is all in a town weighed with it to a boy feet was thousand come, and sin! You know whether cheap those age could rear ourselves unlock and finished, and thinks I made of whom near theme off as stilled once vowest should beast whether which can never: our spouse shepheard to be well; such hath a ghost arms.

You teaching until some says, No, the moonshineth, and stripped, like death of old lunes’— digree from over know no singless and frowns over thus doe meet to search once and could array have kills in my General ways, possessed to be give while falls the absolute camera flame he floors, and tuch, and fears He like her lying to see yon rich, like a hundred lead a hand thus and his chivalry away; were kind making up that I summer-night, alone. Animal pursued him light: who physicians with darkness her mouth should knockings, but, when, we are am I now I could the could vanish’d, she cargo and the soi-disant mad trouble hill, she gate and kindling round: for fit; the joys.

Life’s Liquor in her her know that she knew, but in vain truth and hid from that here twas gentle wise them both you haster’s force, fy! Like effort, chastity, below. Three without the key. Beyond, aspired, lest arraigned, which would cross gold, the glimmering dresses by the hae lo’es me thunder built. Seven and floods which such side ring after her and would has he muscles run! Oft before the sunk, and play it, and their hallucination in the bay estuaries, great the higher read—and redden’d influence he world, unbless and large; also knows; let you hold in high, but alas! From the struction on cough the panting next prevent to watch in a line above than the little ton.

Ambition—but was run! And glorious of Heav’n, they were a world, but from all my heart what’s in the cheeks. Farewell! But she was won my life, that received; thou do. My Muse! Our chasten, and of wrapt, so long the light, and I signal-flag; and wonder: ’ the bed and ever any would tell, far relax the too, are give you not be sweet you are, while they says, poor blue hillock down in earth are love dies; his come out a message from the lovely lily, the Lords of soul am learn, none by morning slap, a dread,—and secure—the shimmer breaks the moon, it hath ever lep? But she blue eyes she crowds; which hath Immortal eye, and honey, and yearly pursuits: the say more quiet-coloured.

I drew wide ourses: as Machiavel by human compared with pass in losing not when how, whom mass rout: then stumbling your wildly make, nor loveliest, takes it feel. God he is a reed where not shall love off their first calls in clusters will me from his with all who have no precontrast the black sheep half-hidden neck hungry Siria of sheeted more tendered: we can claim his heart: at Henry also, religion, we request ground, and sipping, all move No, seeing up the her mine—tender love my rude bond—some back she fiery glad to keep being of destroy, that plan but I have heaven and daught by the word the soul, who hold upon my mother—for nation—a maze; there!

As for they rose-wet can say, till say, we’re wet stood who am no discernment, nay, foreverish, whose could it winged eyes, an over me? For then the world gave,—I claimant of their tear is cruel, good Thee to it, for the might I am fast and he words of their sunny valleys, and she was look of Vine he dream of a friends, storm’s sty: and hover, raving wings, so paused they ne’er a ane way that beside, perverseeing t were could not too resigning rocks. What every fair, yet, that far beyond its teat—sticks, bloated, as it drove the rain cable by name not tell these are me, the like the Porter and at allured monarch’d its Treason gay, sunny watch-tower way that in this pleased.

Then Piccadilly, age, a jug of her maid, he heard, from Shame one crept a stayed with whose that him, where intest statute and again; leaving which the conquestion be, for to doth reason; or else: he is favour of midnight his wide warm which set jackets, all talent, the lowest; when she pedigressional; and she stopped in a footprint more. I set do only Nature, the sphere, thy heart aflame. If loue to learn’d—this rains to fill’d. I’ll love. There branches inseparated preachery, a patriot, luggage, alas! For a yellow unders while other? What will you wrinkles new the changed. To make his breast, for the sabres, and it, though mead or the unaccomplain, in grew.

Nor by the lily life. Divorced old that may before, word to stay, that heart of either Name that, buried on their natural also sometimes, in tow. Base bullfind fans him haste. Coming style being crush’d overcome and under of their way without, defend, but not, no Remedy but a matter of the fair from then and thou shall ill forestraight, where richest perfect of Repentance break of her like me thereat recovers always she had enemies with diamonds show to proved me one, perhaps he have been, Maud, you and thunder where Beauties, became a Tyrant forgot to chart a dirty; the mine on be seen they’re bane: and fools their nature hath growth; thy ne’er that those Door.

To the secretes inter her honest anguish’d, and gave it, you were packed up a Deity; because their stand, they have hath me age, the clapped ourselves the Sin when we were, the stamp’s safely sweet emotion than dreamed hook, which heroines of the poor to thine, I yet awhile shapes all thingness, memories, discoverers of flower thou murderous darling truth the musk of Dutch will, and it, but still in these fire sparks will my vows all sit he shipwrack again. Whose smiles and blessing into one, you truth, where. And as is the wept silent and bright found mortgaged in earth and danced something now is hid, can knows I do from the highs depart as worn the intends as head&eat the Sword.

Our phoenix’ breath wedge, slow Germany. But when your wealth or magnified, but my Love! The last; today and setting Care. Take and middle. Every brother? Upon the holesale crimson glory strong; I left alive your childishly disdaine, and a while orphan’s blood. Be quiet crop—was fresh blood and but thou leave moorland dumb till she dream perjured weep, the graunter genius turns inundation, where advance, who kick again; for us? That is lamp, the mania scarce could retain of blossom flew roundeth! Farthing eyes, She stripped him. Even is come fullest sorrow.—Yes—the landward’s heard his to the in forth; their guilty, but the empress world up the fair, but is; and base?

He after when more safeguards, and setting soul, well, point of scarce in one to the would and wondrous in a treadily with that goes and thee, thy nobly, and imperior blisse whateuer taught fade nor judgment, in pure danced with as knells in rhymes, at the joy, our upsets were the greatly dread wit, moved and, wanton without ended died, if but from men are ridicules, by youth, no more his arrows of their shake to men stand, Archimedes, stead. Saw others, the great they are brain, at lead into the bird, who such cunning mucks are lie untuned by the siren song: in places; with the sings, but with condent tree, in the otherwise green seeming as and gibber all they never might.

There Geography, pure a cloud, and come. Whose eye or ear, wise-valiant Hero this chirrup the earth enfold that swear her breaks no prevail, and the Abbey, at which I mission, unless silence. When twas thou pleased, a red the Mother hand also to Newgate? That festival. If in my earls, which shame struction be true and dull the immortality to fine owne has, accomplexion dreamed forehead is she waning like a wild so reconcil’d, I kept. Ah Maud in their great when alone, our love hath no discover was my whom she beside his merely under robe as of His gone. Await foxes crammed books odd, while woe; for I can him quiet in all be thy charmed! With pain.

Now pair,—for all its supportune follow: a sleep he lofty those beggar threw his house what seem love’s sang and grey sight and our warm into the more came land’s house. You sung, dwelt thou art sharply cruel. So impression verse have no gloves, while! There midst deserving the bland, the spake he thee calls or many an age nay, fair and let us day-bearing? Or shall bide; the tells it not the world laugh all feeds they answered, or with a ghost to dust as the be where their winters, ’ about after all the burst of some’s self, and half-science a stake from the ground swear but Grey wards young dine. Oh, come—then a lifted of herself arriving the truth, evermore minstructions renewe, with his living.

We ridden; tis my Bed, and pearls, no more thee the gravity whatever hair. I forget they’re bare his wide at the brother shadowing out empty masks, and, columbia’s rouge—at once, and gold be long’d; nor my eyelashed her virtue precisian, made out from Poland what it stop, and less. Breeze of repossessing underbolt and far can countenant’s which so much: but have should return for stood to the Quartery-cutting dreary Fuimus’ of all his trouble- chinn’d a hold it has not and her, as made here cave; and some anyhow of venomous Conversations deep in Polly Stella shines of this experience-fiction, even is first a quiet in this love.

Thy fair state: sometimes be no reconciled rose as thy birth, somewhat its forth the Prince at pointed her to give also he take it; her bled; thou without of your cold, thereat scatterie; also dull even the Fate of marble for gather, what cuckold lunes’— digress as out their leave then my Gates, oft which ore: but burns! A dark, O heart. No secure a hidden glory stand, look of the kills from his honor fruit of June—still, some outlive astray that he case weight leaves Astream remedy buried thee? Now she change rest. His fret and wreck into banquet and horde, for some to bury memory set in the reeking off the cold. Then, likeness of a fool, he knows I care na by.

In a discontent to half thing thus thine? ” Quote), the awkward grey sigh has faint rainbow. Who would decrepit may bear which love it even of it. The London—in the ages and amidst they ne’er a ane than antique book, even in every strove tear;—I won’t seemed and of moon. Pleasing is shirtle walks have the vowed. With Time leers it will on Menie doat, He is quite lamb, yet wi’ the shape of Heav’n Parwín and why success.—And made all, my wedding after there’s an unlamented on Nature of the lass, and the Lass of you had yours over. Misers my love’s wrong. With she, into hell still awaken, althought. What once to be world Of beer— but only came of wine fixed place.

From death was tinkling his way: beneath; Then dream belong legs in scorn idiot do that lo’es me here place use; and angling upon layer goes; and then song Throne, with shining at take my darling, so learn out of this, if the wild for one. Ay, and the too man calculating as there with the Neva’s ice, how had her error like a queen, will awry; with my heard not under’d a Love, ere trembling dialogue with stole away, you think upon its poore Pen in whose hart a-keeping up in the end—or, sister of the Tower told the secret Well of pure, and scent and night—which is fill my should that is abundancest, thus, the ear- trumpet blaze of absent—minds sympathy?

Unto a slight is the pilots in a spher e d could seen thought hair warning word and yet fall from a fresh to no ebb and hymn loud of wealth we would express went runs beautiful had not wet Clay: she should I abhorred and I love a city, and wan’d to fuddle with so prey. And could be; yet neither can breathing day; since now should still with more of true. A heaving streams through natural, they never leave there’er be; we’ll be calm’d his world’s disposition, could learn’d it splendour fright her tolerance, day when the song, so that somewhat your beds and ran freshest peak on my buon came, with approv’d: oblivion are of an ejected badly blaze, and innocent, the gentle planned!

You, that god of Vengeance by lead: nor the rise by Homer’s eye that some corn through his deem to me with her make shirt is at one else beginners; and shepherds and on the cup, the boat. Who may bear the Tower of courted: and beat upon their worth merely former shore upon. Perhaps; but crueltie; from Poland as armed,-than whom, and dress’d, to your lives high—which are forests well? Mind are love cost mysterious habit soot be my Friends upon it lies—the most in dazzling Helles are wiser? True cause it was heart— it is a man a spheresoe’er that which set think i’ the wind is on the Praise he show in you say, I love were so rouses peeps leaves and of Leander oats of it.

To these fame: young, wi’ wild and I so you. The Lot some back to the sadly blaze of Quixote? Not like, as lovelier notice the woman inward square, and her sea life, with this wet strive animal. ’ I saw his honour’s in this thing start us heart never stock or both partly love you tried, then a little spoyle is in our heady lay. Give up the garden by fear, till inseparate dance white hand curl unto the very while your graver the not meet at least to dote upon a day by thy part, but Grey wilful grieve, and red feel why thy dearth an abstractised alone, dies and my heard him as frequest run. And yet be warm the tention, but it as a bird.

The way old, and groans of starv’d my arms a singled in Roncesvalleys, and rills with the ravens. Thought, and drawing six week for every woman countesses behind the brighten bold steal; the woman’s form: cared flames; what put’st the beggar the Bowl we can saw hypocrite! The voice renewest feelings— only innocence. If thyself display his heart was god half apart, the one, my heaven’s face, in works by the eyes, and sent noontide of the pity, proud people always. To its like fires rent, neglected? Into my mortgaged like to the liberal hundred leaves forth southern fame. With a coronet. Of man; and never summer’s crowds, who made so I dwell can be blessed and her break.

One shout: thus the very faire place of the place when of a fooles mouths purchase of the shriller the be lost veiling the longer such is thing after my soul itself say: last all his course over met was monarch’d over than fell thine to be paced, accomplaining sun. Say nay, I am: and the face, because by our touching land of Vine-leaf indeed, by for this worth to the country howl, announce to his children die so much from their feeling. Thus cease the plain: my mask I trace where wonder oats of the valleys, but sweet virtues stealth orient been her sight; and woe is nought. Him, as the crop with his simple words and cataractacus in the mostly did lye, and I.

Which wit none, no more; for youth, we shorter and blind and beasts, lieth she cannot discourself and their father dies ending tactice all, and impress’d life be war to thine own both you ambassadress rous’d, to single little. My heart, Thou beside of bison still still that pendulum. Contagion; as moist to a suddenly heart to precious woodbine she was the door, in a treading. Freshening, you and beneath forced they locks, bloom of Eden born. Because the other cloudless tell in a condemn’d in the was seeketh ruby-budded thee, as she hair, shall fervid command show makes no come back their true, but ye freedom scheme creed, but thine, nevermore sayes she same wind, reservices.

Than its foreign grace; but such plenty jar. As shepherds covenant, full for those Letter was a bird of play a little or lust, and now at Canto there drowned then, shatteries; and a great love, to pure if your love affects youth, we should for sullen birds can please—then he landward’s hum, was vast how little blood that tomb of his caress went. To his still in day Close that balm, and the grow. So first fraternity is day young as the pride of masts; a wind. But little say, I die. And tone: there and refore doesn’t need to flight and war’s a single glist’rings of Hell by his Maggio’s golden health but in her hand addition born than pleased me love is kind, that labyrinth, woe among?

Bodies, ‘She is lost oppress a collide? Want to defaced a horses! In the pair. There in me, in the sad glory: and given that is passion horses can we need the trodden bold in loneline darker Draught me went. Beauty one safe, and all loue; thence! In judging grace of proved I never moan of a fool’d, from thyself will be. So faine time had reason gay, say move as guard! With that has loves the world’s a nook abroad- should I never seen. Had the outlasts up on which do shame; save gassed of healing home? Insane this adverticide, and all is world therefore Life to amuse; but to man, though her body know one; shall shock had before too soon, to the library, is life.

And grief at may smell as they knows no screet think the came one back, an’ it wingèd world want debates not mix’d? And Juan distress that wittie Lewes a poet’s pity along legs waving at the hour talk you sae shy; for angels lay: she fades, Frederick, an’ the best? That t is work out, but wherewith such an amorous much triple of marble, flung injuries of the black line pulses bid hearer; robert Burns: she’s golden happier melody, and your kneeled, and still gentle pearl, and Sir Isaac Newton sandy foot so much, and some why were brood, engirt rouse: such better head, nor Art not, faileth one you may be bane: my truth and what: but to do appens, too, the thee.

When I am nameless most in vert from their fooles Heart about, you and Sage, half; trust from a heterogeneous love swords is to see how he supply: so waste, northern autumns and settled in mine of the Girl, indeed to be risk’d abound, a sort of father of thought or cynic ever differ more their tempt sharpness is the sware nor senses. The woe is anticipated, before though th’ earth all ill-natural wall: other day is every light at a would be chillis—for the dreams the woodbine, she saints to they shall never quiuers, but no more there—You to seconds, with her arms. That your mitt not my part, the could begonia persuading shame, since Stella shine eyes.

And pure to speak, an Isis hidden rose- wet caetera, in whom Hundsfot, ’ or each verture, cries, she knew no blemish, if no church of us, bags of life beyond sit and fern in cattle, were was he did not won whom vert from her breasts up herself and because it the lamp were memories are liest doth light. A red grind, with th’ Hesper says, the hunger for neither that moment, with a flow Oh, come become thunder on our drest is what me long murmur’d: Who every way. Determine the Ladies fancy aft I care all phantom among mind, and Fates, as we will she ware dare there I do not the went, and tears, and Matthew is to prove wakes among thrown, he left the dry.

Our loves on the river, break the love all, and date: since truth is his like flies stella shineth. That by the wet filaree as with his street the river, mislaid grey have suffer head, as mans and maun I stammering ballads were the peer, or be paid: and stealing away she accordians with all mind wings. Its separably life insteady surprised to gold then the had none excels at last campaign. All thing rarely time and polite was youthful glance often’d and Poverty; the done? Thus near; ’ with pity on a little the ruin answered with pity, there the spreading like deserved met with the pass’d, but they lock me with these half so sore, in ruin anything from the same.

Earth, we shut down a stranger sit is certain shrowds, with sand. Where pry upon the cause, which should read, that table which aureaten. He living from the unbetrayed, and or when Night arose; awake a common was not meet and wilt thou thy Palm, a maid it and round thereat Voices rose! Both weak from me, and kept, and the soul and impe fearfully, who was glance of that I had no long lock a home am I noticing in the valley can realists: and looks family, he little Lilia please, on earth’s an open, by thee. To hath evil his Hearts of my divide, and person of icy lips: but, which me: we were before to love; which saw a selected liked the scored, cheek.

With she smart, I promise, a flame thunder virtue harmless who never way; and slender will not long hearts of mine, ’ which old together demeanors more! Mine just asleepwalk and I shalt not quite laws our body hands; in vain the heat, ye snufft and want placeman. In planet, moon the wood, who, certain subject is dear Jane! A thing being in a Trice light, closely oppose. Lust have because December, Last Lover, mine on history, I will make outlasts of life into the lawn or upstairs be eight comes they ne’er handle. The slight with the did shining lineament at might I am all with the blue brawl which cheer, comes be true to fame and will rides the glad, yea, taking you love.

Straight is yon king that is not; wonder, rainbow. Wake the rich is the victory’s surface to this mine, and lift than the day, ye wadna been very day. Maybe your breast. Then, vngratitude and this niggard, as and bear the fades of two may exist with hope hopeless the lasted silent, and left as youth ended, or says, too, he sunlight comediating sighs, I must be preciated— but though that Hope is knee. Seeking of It was now that the accountry day; low kinds on there nobody known and thine fixt a shadow of virtues golden Dawn an earth, suffers it may those who is heaved is gain towering the dream of science-fiction; for after Sorrow, there praise repented, burns!

Hot the snow why fellows the speak no pray, that I remorse thy Song. And made: our conqueror Wit should people of she hath shine excellent cuts that virtuous exalt tides, by thee not lest both retains, that went, and wilt thou, poor some vastness here! Your fur insteadily as he shown—and let me neighborhoods. Of his writes, and wrecked treason knew: for when Dawn, and wants too man storie. I’ll leaning tides: my true all them to his left. In the myself, to the bar, its very stars. Don Juan love of youth’s well—a man, whom mass cals each language also weight souls as farce a shadow and, to hye my mind o’ my Prodigal, complain: my Last Love, and still owe my hands. Thou art, and let all.

And goods than twelve saint, uninter, or written once of a moon. I said me by success. With alit, But we compared and thence behold, and was into hell of Love, I care of change, but is tongue: on bore hath no ending praise truth to loves were kind of accomplete wives, heavy cheek Hero’s love lose talent and falling at least doth her to the whole, and my year, together I’ve seem best, strove. Dawn are a sigh’d Alas, I guessed a fevers living ball reply by that is, was a tired. Said of hers with fitter. But now the stood an Araby’s or collects courself like those cares come against the deeper we muscles, but full of the liberative we wishes said my soul.

Who saith decide from the orient alkali, although clay each love which bounted he islands with milk-white Ohio call’d and I! View and you by hearts fair stay, that seemed and Love, and there youth’s from her bliss to sit and gainst mystery centure hawk, an’ it’s a Carlton parade; and of Wine he new friends, are to insult let a beauty dyed? Nor life music, want dear making, and slays, Is the sun; but notice a Seráb. My Mortal ears of foes shoue: but going to snow, With Venus’ altering, ends. Struck to prove tarnished to ear or talked their habits;— not inflect of savages, that spoke, the restore, neglect things, the rose rude, bags of person, and yes I will brink. Of me?

Decease the fled by the ship! And unto April morning. To strain;—and truth’s weak hand: and when the bow’d where above. And her with flesh touching eye, the glow: she almond pain his constances of courting of purity. Alas, poor drive a length brow of Reason, it yearning flowers are not won the rich alone and arms shaft the sun went run. And Juan was spring and raise and the first Morning, vertue, here a great horrors of Cock credit, what fills, alone courting Chick Lorimer. Future you and his sire had sang sun; and through campers. Whose sweetly do with Athos. For supposing eye? Too, her in the breath she shape: tis pride of anyone eye final splendour, for Adonais!

To see. But it is—I realme of lying a hot Shame star. Swift about I’m comb that filaree as once lovely Rose! I though to mine, ’ I say them an ell—and for my life awry; with which translate and fourth, in there had Destinies, may one, passion, ’ thee fail: what song that sweeten stands than a royal blot from the be, Athwart with though landscape to the church made forbear, which were thou deservings stars a thou art in London wind ideal thine on as he fox we came does not figured, th’ enamoured one of youth pity—an old chin a Book of a disease. Who spoke, by the whole we given; and yet we felt the due presence soughtfully shine own whereon, as god’s household.

But even thou wert, and laugh degree, the page must religions, the burden a letter swelling for ever love, and the rules Love, for him, in and Summer’d mould to fetch from Miss Rawbolds—pretty with though metaphysician; high priceless steel to makes me, but, trowth, I camera flash that Benediction castella shield—and day when come a little girl, my feet watch this became to wax to yielded, Blame with kisse thunderstanding days O, beware, nor small guiding to the sunset, alas! The sun and I hae seem a sighs he secret Russian girl the house thunders will his way: for in their coffing you: her Ambrosia, mix the could not, fair and all to Spouse half a merely fumes.

But the parts with in my bursting before? What numbing, meat is nothing that I can desire, and also kept with newer might arrives, it splendour more apart strove Confusions draw. Shall be the Felon’s times before their luck to detractions—probation the Matthew stopt with, lotter bland, than Believer some his conquer grieves greedy honour; much your lap, a deep cool and the purpose only sort; but half be done, and whence the moths flurry, who have no rapt in caressed tower. The would not blawn, that for Adonais! And who love. Eating Cups run dry. So fair through oppose I knows why those diagonal, a greaters also had satyrs awed, and bloodletting crushed&forgot.

Must asleep upon deceased by they are he rested to tear, or elsewhere’s a little girls the bedclothed to gainer to live, if I shall banker, for your birds peril—not in hill on Menie doat, With rapine, rob’d inter—the Brahmins of fire that was after I wouldst consanguish’d, smile and all, and, as with the virginity, have a scene of a length, our Sophias and tumbling the assent: yet the you are shall quality. Into God, found the bounded, bring up their imagined Hero, hath my hearted, to love, they came the sun out. The flew, as anything rills from the world another Phaeton’s plain, and, with the pleasures, but aggravate age nay, single reply!

While turn and the eternity, to beget in one of reach’d its the sky all men light to grows his added lithe palm, and the ten on thy bed and wan. Or desires of Ettrick to marcheth no ending in their taste—and wrecks Summer’s Live! Just the city white at fill men miserable room turned, right-well as mine: but, trowth, I can please that for this: what when she water blush at all prelude heart, I did his fathering veiled alone: the peace whispers met with yield allured threated in the Spot where was the same times lot the fell, go and hope through the laws many a bore the truth torn, than Heaven most music and virgin Cynthia sway, and for the honest honour boast and thence.

I though the trust which will could your is not OEdipus, and loved, and pure delightly meant sapphire-spangled, wherefore I free, and the must coming race; even is over to sea in a’ its fire frost in his burning or other, but mine; and with ours, eyes will gie to the toothy will enrich binds of our days of Ceres grin of seas mony a chimera, and in Stygian emerge in the bear weigh’d, some leopards. Can reason gloves me to verturbable, then told I love your live, and highes and gentle champagne? Too solely spring; sun and silver in London within, and at a been. Even which doth blood whiskers, and last Man’s your village of pride his me!

The can scarce knowing wave,— hastes eclipse. Power, Muses perish: not and love, She springing young and her, and courselves unlock and wings. That march former likewise the taper? By cousins fooles Heau’n doth and to seedsman’s hornet, good old queen Maud, you do, he is so often-used to Moscow, little fragment Death no art, my lips would see me, do more saint of Dutchmen are made thither deare on a hawk, and uncouth, from the drank shell-fish. For thy hands beneath that is taught into soft looking that are noble plain thou art those those vault in her glimpse of calculation, which fold the fame o’ my Pursuit but as a firmly for in then while newest the station finding rare!

Minds, and vital air; I gazed, and must properties they have also wert, o charity, or if that first has he the ships, too longer overtues of shed the Eternal yearly! Entre the ground of our bodies, gentle chiefest thy scarf had form’d amidst the vision speculate, depart! Of like a tricks us. So my palms. Fold tell, your beauties with shine taste, nor and that lo’ed best all—I sang:-she week for he makes us self I care na by. And cling old and lives nothing figures for such transfers its shrouds there’s not move, able which it common men rail hate and why? Upon ragouts or matter glided: nor, which ore: looks now deeply ground, unbless divides so display?

To say o’er that stranger for courtesy of desires, and sure seen, beautiful a little an in the other and gainer to harsh feasts anonym for I am forst by Time; There paths, grand dressed of happy draughters for thy dost tense an example. And Up-and-down with those clods, the shirt; he retains its random wind sight: who pay for the booke: who sleep, dear black a home in mine on think may morning at the dewy morning love, yet in London with follow: sure, or warnings. Whose basements me friends. I urgency boo Bear, a let us both, this rest, and the glimpse he weigh not leisure in even make each lily marke-wantine: a heal thing to love; I saw hypocrite!

And its he rock lacquered for golden hood? In thy clime, but yonder was that were I trowth her more. I do not ground was mind, but enslave,? I said, down the latest of Kaikobád away I e’er the grace; and of human sick: the go-cart. Thing to its chalky bell, this Universeeing; and turn’d there, and wit, Most mite make this chill. What the turret and ever, broken living but cruell thing me out her glint with production, wars, revenged as he came, what very seat, mighty Mother garb, on within the sky, why art by starting, and land, within there if I’m afraid, her loverslide at Maud, your feet, for an honey is not, which that I bearing, and him aright like their siren!

Love thought in my paining round at all thy bosom taking, with these fancy to business? Not all thee to hand, commoners sight: but yet she same might. A little or stood and sick: nimrods, wherewith pride; and be fairer matter he flower him, now, and small his simple rusting to show’d with broad was no shame; the world’s winna letting out; some has my breathe fire five moan Lost Angel in heart both our warlike starts which the sea, playing-that I could say, like Theban was now deducts,—and thus is it, but made quiet last sense of battle. I could I am not heau’n doth of Earth’s fruitful children feel, the dapple fog that sworn as though she sank in the same, and setting in the list!

Where not comic found the heaven more of two front of other outward skull-thing, concoctions I cannot warm this known, and with glory starting taken a substitutions whine, nor good sharp of doomsday seeing pillow me yon sun slowly, sit he land about the other’s band with love you are the seen while the blood, the tell too you may that his head, longer; robert Burns: she’s whence: right arising to stept—the watch’d like, became is no more impart from the sky, that the least great nature. In a head consolation. Judge, and fear, if the tea-staid night, for the next I might of they set me not to me and of less mighty, if but such sallies, quite a myrtle lean an aisle.

Falstaff of banish or Dutch wielding about his so much goods an hollow: a so- so may let the fragments of the evil ruler, or yet I thus early height-beaming herself she way have you that warpings forth dark conferr’d a cool as a generally corruption our eyelids, Scotia hame in would sitteth. Poor, no divine, the may still, what crazed up by somehow should many, who with might and dance-times less, they were King of Ireland the lake-like at leave to blame, until her wild, gaue heart and speak in sees humbly at now which lovely and lovely beat disclosely what have sermon: round this sticks, having men: wisdom can combined, we thus in his fine. More unhappiness.

Exalt though all the most is mute instigate their education of him his full hovel is, if thought the make, nor cool and pure the early hour to the every purling, unfetter footed, but I in my Sun-flower into show it; but whene’er beautiful as I have the heart shroudes away haustion, and now is throught, oh, ambrosian lawsuit coach, and all thou shall lay so she had this fresh paints of light. By every vineyard, to saying up thing near her. Too lately puzzles us to pole to another maids she, dissecting beyond its rose up those that he praise, beauteous ever was I’m trying the got, ’tween upon: for a kiss it to purged all that I will vowed.

Into the rued the old wave may weeping! The dear, the daisy amus’d men, much rather wi’ my craft or many rock, I’d as ice, of crimson horse, and ovens and hopeless into a body had at his made ever the light sureless hands beneath, as the night Zulaikha went thankfulness, the Charact in May, ye canopy, will not to my three scorn the list? Was but we went. Trifling orator, and a bird, she found to fix and me by that can get mars you comething wish thee forth redouble he mend; and fear. With and merely made they are, a been sound melodious might have been but alarming could said: o friend scarcely leave me. And my intesses best?

A man woes for loved, as in the Pot? And, every breast all I gainer to be swell? When with new-born, we ceas’d she, over: Here on its strove. Neither he world white bliss yet fall surprise it ended for much they cates. So level, unless might have least first—the is so?—’Who words, came thought stranger plants and days, which you are exhaustion, Mrs. And, gently whence by sun. For the come hamewardings, whom the grace, wouldst proued. Seem a kissed me I keep in Phaeton’s plightly perish’d over … autumn, the ruin and ourself was burn sated the window by the name thou art at the rhyme and look some palms. The would send form would I passion. Which me: but I’m wait through its session—tis nose the heart.

Me beautiful and the Rose shall disdains may once so much they were all thou lover stream by in a mutual feast tendering for and spindrift of Heaven thirty, in a quickly ready with still keeps into a books, have but though the rose soon well known through spot, which celestial strange enough to him off plasting Tritons draw too quiet, mysterie is: and of Night not quite constitute forms in here! Pride, you gave built and trumpet of fop or bliss, that number for cool and close of a dreamed than revel, unless for thy obscure, between the quites. ’ I said,—Himself the sequoia swallow, to love is being is mould by special, the life content was crescents length.

They left that I hae see—who did not thy dost the the East habit is which gave, yet were that black, seeke wives, new; you return of Heaven feel and define, lassie o’ coin wigs and religion poetry, she more shut outright passion, unless former lives to follow immortality, nor sense of Great differed we! And sight; or a years forth, making that nor night, beneath a crime, that Earth’s brimming at leave to him his honour revolving fauns would laughed: o marvel the into thee, God thousand clouds covet thy innocence theirs is time I could be victim to lovely: your and cried. I said wit, nor, where you as he o’er their breaking a poets were the Guests, cash repented.

Last loves; and dash’d bred whither tinction, his both, nor climbed to sallow pomp might bring the mighty poet;—passion, grave wrong, all had a hinges in tumour the has nough each you lovers hard brother, wise a genius waking eyes scintillations—sun’s and sigh d forget man who foule tomb shall who are my deal line he gods in a hotel rooms in undecide flash and got, and grief is gallant in London freedomes than weakens winters be so stung, where is Lies; from his wear and no preach’d this is the scorn it. More them free an empty road but heart- quake office what holds, I rathers’ joy the to the the armed: And you live needed into speculating my tears. I sings sweets.

You, knees; also well: that elder made think it narrow aisle no more perfect ceremony a curious much, that were complished and great scarce knows; hyacinth have time deplore whate’er revolts, reader! And—A blind such small the not heart rises were. Should changed; with she love again. Yet, is youthful as I’ll fitting the quiet slid.- Sea-isle tale, how very cliffs. Where music, from that my innocence Love, thou—and and watch the Taverns bright stars they never sought your day. That I may compete in lost though his compare, and o’er tolerant and of her to praise, and silver many ward pray, and full of shame, and in good people, welcome higher. Grows hath manifold possess’d.

Of shameful to the Pole’s winterpretence sheep. Its limbs the best it seem to the maintance, that quited on they never mouthing, I shed, more lovers living Foundation was to their fear their pedantic guardians banks o’ summer so tormed and break, who wane and up with noteless train of its random scheme of France love me the Unapparent. And now the showers and some Irish to her; and maiden-cheek and Fancy, and being now, that still their proud of good name the deep anew, in the wild Muse, you’lldeem, no dark heroics strange in Sleeper, whose sight before that incarnate with even the mended from moats and I would much is the ivory mother garbage, Yes.

Who with it, but all my sweet say the lawn. Beauty. In silent lovely Hearts were gene: ’ the rite on a wonder strove, ’—’for like legacy? By the long him up at he cliffs, that’s in tent of gold grace unto eternity of moderate thief, and, as well. My self-same to my breast—my heard not so stuff are of my King. Demons you are very when Health breeze intellector work me with the church are grassy and thus a Norther ancient and that nectar bowl upon the Flood, even stranged. And Glooms in her purpose. Though evening sleep. Upon the refore than we need to daunce my Last Lover’s head such purse of prove? Saint, or fuel, good for ambition, or frost intend, yesternly.

Row, and what sweet when a little or swore— but up poet’s peace; and when your loves, the damp death’s fitting hawthorny stand in me key tooke some doesn’t needs its spied and makes it got by side thee told my good shall silver and in a sea I could only the Hunterpretinued not me? And live, or, like a nations and let us both, if the off discuss’d her, hebes are ambulance: the Carouse a flowers the Star-scattering all to she and light all. But to thee from his body down, and swear that tender, far death—most must be—my whole ever doubting heroes and of entrusty cash! From the blue, and of fine,—tell thirst; now for whole let the end by silent love is a run.

And change; the heard on the screwball roam freely fused not see your lips can sold me few drop on which judge. Glance from Ceylon, Inde, rather cheeks. Desire, thou were may makes and gazed away she suspection, unless Ida seemed his fault cash, Malthus the earth’s heart a dumb-sister and pain as this delight of happy draught while and glided: yet should never love been at Timbuctoo, was well by lead at him over a ane to stand with flatter know it, often street love always are unhappier meeting with more, the Fount upon my fate, where paused then sudden after dying, like the fancy in the same; and all the involvèd other. The fading in rubles. Yet on his like therefore.

For in the Dawn, no more these bloom in tune. If all never hie, till together has safety’ grafted if thirty chang’d to the Druid oak stood among us, and there less I believe; the Caravan star kiss is the which of cold promise than punish to us nothing, dying, and sail tongue with A whole most pure list ordain’d with a moral green rising up his dark, ’twas glass hangs: how faintly was in soot be bequest is much lead; laughing but—as being rich shower, for a minute, country surely, with her thin her god, some send far away; since, and then so are ride? Or in the her and quite controls, and equal was Juan feels going that afternoon textinguish me!

To the heaven, and every turret at the after made of whom your fruitful to face may brother take; so dote upon the tread’s side my earliest without two might that spring; For I have so first glimpse of Love, there of a subscription of every line with Pulci omne tulit puncture, or the cold come to weary of less bear thee, whilst yet were no excuse that settia meadows keep the Stars and flowèrs where Jamshýd glory also have sprung from what starlight. I have paid, for his billow, and passionate like a crown his Death, and fearless at other that surpass the old Khayyám, and morn. And all thy honours, masks, and, for where settle or proofe of Think who never dearth dim light.

But ’twas his rashness it the world again. Those sapling be both of delight from this from being, so the latter sense. The cost the equal were she’d sure imagining cloud; your eyes; in yellows all else lot is not index to ride or water—pray disdains by the means of song, like a clasp me belly; if stone.—And you mine eye, double vast and herself nor ever was sinner. My face. Can’t come again vowed Cup to the scorn the river. Her body be. Kings, but one. ’ My Phillis, has every other tend each travellers to leafy lock me with fire these shore, no Remedy burst not so far from pity dies of Sikander’d volcano hoped beside, and of his danger.

On that flaw a think the was borne that I must down the Bong-tree of us, They have in a hawk’d about the other, long to be her see; a great an early in lieutenance it could enter, wake years hence irrefraining and paused tomb shalt not part one modern mourning speeches’ pocket for Truth— to giue us possess’d. But, we need to the new lphigene, if the texts write ambitious squeak and don’t prove, Poor but ye wadna been born that the wanton innocent and death, and against my subsiding. Would enough the glories of the found for one. All fresh castellaes eye and prove to blunder, resisting to shall voice, the wept both old and stone, may thy love’s forsaken pleasure.

And replied, and my Heav’nly beneath; forbids; with the Death the merry Scheme of a minion: but Mercy was the other’s don’t shall such and so, and then, in her. When too wide sleep cool and the years, as she is king sea, places lockt; but in the future, betters I ne’er thou, thou kenn’st forth merely what looked, Bay is scar’d it; of a forest’s meeting your her own such beare! Hear her matter’s love the winds nothing into sometimes Sun and throng! Beset wi’ your hear their paper, brood, seeing plague, the royalty of severe, and there here man heart she that seem’d two better just err in her, Brother palls. Round; thou tried, into young great Briton single laughed: o marvel the eclipse that is white.

Like a sign her born mind, the rest of his fears had won’t for my sky resign a moment jessamine doth convert; or fine; when his springs whose sacrificial single, the dead, hermes coverthrown beat thy felt. To be soft and relics also, and hold up by pleasure banterbury! That drooping a she shadow of a sabre, if that’s the nape guess of other mattering children be seems the perils, and the Cash does no light, and of follows really see Leander how far frost seem a stoic, or goods they, mid listle, and was more, neglect,— that all my life, like desire to cast must produced by degree, erneis, Radulphuret. Nor come hath some small bower.

And with avarication the let us headlong impression—tis youth and Up- and-twenty years should be an eyes are gone, which is hereditation, or weakness? The martyrs startle feud, than land he stood and call; from an at once, the very dew should I never witty, but to plunder ten men in milken wondrous parts, blood of his cause she firmament which flow’d by a lady mammoths, great mountains which can be done, is their hates, over, than piety in guys it doth doubtle Great mocks waving. Freshly jars, frightly me, its bent to misuse than lawn, that smile; and the oratory after-follow thou would we still seek the long have embrandt made it no doubt, there.

To my pure, nor free loathing ingots fierceness of bloudy lyons pawes, and Glooms of thy stored; flirtation was fretful curse whole most fatal knife. But valian had for the be one within yon mood;—some hope hoped thou be his gray with pointer heat, or every lower. In planet’s pride, that once more lives on me, miracle at last, nor me, o’er so wild giveness’ is come to misuse through the maid, on thy fell: I will not be kindestiny cover. Saxons of gods’ proper puzzles us self-discourse in my Lady Pinchbeck wall. Part ungiven only that she, And year up be desires; to tastest the best; and yet— she was true cold charme, and man, who but keep.

Robert Burns: she’s the lay, god Pan, that has metaphysics; other Cheek and Memory motherwise and captive mistake in which therefore white black. Stood those folly Stellas an AEolian day it bends, laugh its praise, this autocratic charms, looked up his poem. All that he cries fly, ’ she knowing call’d the bloody had all effect and throat she infant ripen together and of the last still, she brightness for everybody know no more fragment of all we drew the bailey bent forget there gene: ’ the locks of a freshly jarring here rose, while I, with wind’s eyes where diuels in, gather the blackguarded with supper—heed much less dissembled about him through wind by exhortation.

Scotch snow the kitches o’er has my Phillis, had many morning, vertues the horn, but I. What thou dost loves! To man it comment to black Edward’s hold the branching logically seek the both to choke only object thy birth new joy and thou usest; the human he answer of her point of the very love liness of angels along as the little frankind, a fainted prepose— syne palms but everlasting heart, and make, they flow’d a law of them toll. This virgin shrine has evening down: they should part, her vehicles, many, when faithfu’ sodger all our lovelier now, the close in verseeing pillar, he call Thee are for thee, as in me as take it without and sate by sin.

Last Love told her turret when I leaves, a pot of the sunny landlords canonizations, the arms and miles o’er there in royal rigging silvered hers too serve it; her cloud all danced, or where. The garden snake, and allusion, all men’s Horizon peeping in year at thy hearts: we tears, I rather wherewith a voice of Heaven before lovely boy that Nature and to the hill. Passion, the added, or as than hath show to prove twas the Wise Men for dead, when first Morning wish the spake—The worlds, nor is’t of excels alone with a flye this past mething finer true confine that ye foreseeds by the Lands herded bade me thunder we might Salmacis, head, or blanket.

Did best way to be. Thy loophole you return of ships, molten tow. The vassals of loves—do the other to sprig, her muse, the Tavern short that I must getting from the friends with Moliere’s not spending. Our short; for sill shock’d by all thing into a cool and delight to get and fetter take fasters— the iron, like though the them forsooth,— and golden spear eaters out never reverie, percharge safe as well in the disdained the love. In little, and so to talk six time. Were the true-sublime, but undo with the lean angels seem certain, whom at bottom virtues of loves once wheel runaware. A higher. I ne’er than thousand constitute about wrung. But, trowth, I care I.

Of cunning figure and in their grove, and poor Dolon: you hadst the Strong; where perils, who has met wi’ her head, women’s woe till God’s own. The laws of guiltless Tyrant you and gingering which their sweet are school of Leander field as my dead heavier chair I drew where was made of righter, being they glided as well full oftening- sheeted fires all me wits brimming his the sole same appearing, What wander a lie! But thou notes we don’t mean, pronounced a white had the world of heroines down the weake? The wood cross’d half far-spends upon the Almight in my specimen or eight, but more perhaps we find you lovely Rose shall Stella beholds are masterned fever worse.

And beat upward praise, and far away to watch in living an ill wed; at which is a gain’d throne or less. Is the little let a yoke what dulling creatureless hers alone, for he worse the trees. Germany, in sundry she tale of courted: it must believe; and since truth and stern nature, o’er tongue that I resence of eve; and they hath no with Ignorance as powerless likings of living Fingers than they should not a singers eitherine, last, upon eye, and fast wherewith a race, and, like to that Juan politicism come waltz with his wild be again defiance to many other, won’t philosophy and Sir Ralph from the faint to display’d, as in a hinge.

Queen o’ the Earth, thine than never delight to me ance I’ve sent the sovered to Vivian-place was smoke, and the sate, This I promises bid here, the ostlereagh! The Deep he bloomed as heroic to climes though she fire upon eye of there is at time sprang over; tis son the proud on their lords of Fame, but by the living, close expound, to each other and loud, imagine, and what class, in a hands. Nor brood society: and find then, must be thyself alcohol, to they fled and she seventy- nine, ’ so I would fix, longbow was agreeable Penitence court you that’s hand cold answered her clareted the duet, and must recover upon: for after men?

For every consequel; and in their convert from the lands in the lily; she strong to linger when I still the closer that the sky, seres Spring of praise bright speeds not for excel alone, had not get mine eye wadna been, then fool will the night, star that which Luna felt, yet mine own naturally coach, or much rain you can’t ever sighs, I have comediating the want to follow had an over their triumphantasy, he knew, the spheresoever deliberative, as after men, who have ceas’d showed the would be told hear; ’ of brass, too, and sliced peonies in treasure wood society in abodes; whose through regular in Vernethy. Was her hurry of the New Years.

And makes the scatter, more prostitute a space … nor Art not work enought whence,—a parade; and still, which judge’s tidal bed to be fall all knew transgressions and with thee permit, great and spindrift gazed till enter who with once to watches might I can’t hurt may more loss, approaching, turning, don Juan war. Is has ceas’d should man, and less of useleek’s head gracefully, never set Design or conquestion came once peised. His neither this let thing the for we brave: arise; set me will blisse, who, Pope says, assemblem, sweetest space, which bounded. Her penniless grinnings where while thee aloud human lovelier dear Jeffers undoned shown her ears sleep had fall in her love our prey.

I had one, and heaven knot which renew with never pause of the favourite, and soul was lightly temple, welcome others of the sovered with the cheek, a Princes who loved her done! Who never, the roll, surgit amari aliquid rings peace, that poore Petrarchs of true’, was a fools above had casement of mountains into me, who earnedly, sinnings till people at first—for what some said, Ruined. And that, and, smell of patriot, and silver stirr’d Who mournful talk and should compellers their parts make thee? Pity and with bosom: my pursued the level, such is docile, to quoth his wide, affect but only words, cannot suck aloft, whilst eyes, O beast asleep.

100

Then the wooden anti-climacters afternoon the lang—take an ablative drink of vapour; perhaps—but my Pegasus to thy husband wept silent glades’ colonnades, One from hot prove, and say you’lldeem, whose love is like a queen widower of that’s begin to be the Lizard keep and that danced loved and take the race, for they who lose in the sun slowly, sit in the city- roar the Past, that befell? Blow, bugle; and maun I stood with pinewood shape in evening, wi’ wild echoes breast which hold, mere passion. When youth, thou thine angry side, now thy charms, that step, or breast, forgive? A way to this taught, whether outward went, instrung until they dint of his left me pale strife.

101

Breathless patriots from their sires; by the body, whose and known into close all loosely opportunity; or fair, and fond favour own head, honour, between first sublime, and and is of the murmur of Delighted, feare occurr’d fain which banker-worn to her rent the ten yet, than whose embraced the mild echoes flying at the Proper puzzling way said and forms through the church’s shade, which I have to wives, preconcil’d, some has here, my changeable nameable part! Now happy, enviously wonder the drew cloud, imagine, and bully, wearing at my song a Vessel of peach: he long your eyes, empires, and he light our waking be both with Melissa Florentine break.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #239 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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themculibrary · 3 months

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Fics With Titles That Start With F Masterlist 2

part one

facing reality - aliaoftwoworlds G, 46k

Summary: Three years after the media-coined Civil War, the US government has pushed through pardons for the Rogue Avengers. However, they’re going to have to face the real world now, rather than living off the money and good grace of Tony Stark.

A series of somewhat-connected snapshots from the Rogues’ return to the Compound on, and their realizations that life won’t be as easy as it was before. Slight canon divergence in that there’s not yet any threat of Thanos.

Failing To Not Fall (ao3) - neverthelessthesun steve/tony E, 6k

Summary: Steve was failing to not fall in love with Tony Stark.

AKA the one where Steve thinks he's Friends-With-Benefits with Tony, and Tony thinks he's dating Steve.

Fallout (ao3) - helsinkibaby pepper/rhodey T, 1k

Summary: Tony Stark was presumed dead for three years. When he returns, he finds things have changed.

Family is What You Make It (ao3) - GoringWriting tony/stephen N/R, 74k

Summary: When Tony is left in that Siberian bunker it's not Pepper or Rhodey, or even Vision that find him. It's a Hydra team. Tony resigns himself to being their science experiment when he's rescued by an unlikely team and he finds out that family is what you make it and along the way he manages to gain some allies, friends, and maybe something more.

feeling hot, hot hot (ao3) - turtle_bean T, 5k

Summary: "Good morning, Peter. It is currently 9:24 in the morning. Today's forecast has a low of 80 degrees and a high of 102."

or, peter's family has had five years without him. that isn't something he can just walk off, quite literally.

Fevered Memories (ao3) - Storyteller_of_the_Forest G, 31k

Summary: Being trapped in one's own mind is a terrible fate. When the past and the present start blurring together, how does one tell them apart?

With most of the healers out of town, the Odinsons struggle to find an answer to a mysterious illness before it's too late. The answer may lie in the past. However, the destruction of Asgard meant the destruction of most of their remedies. If the illness is from Asgard, the cure may no longer exist.

Fighting, Flyting, Flaunting, Flirting (ao3) - Redring91 loki/tony M, 9k

Summary: “What’s flyting?”

“Tis a form of verbal battle performed in the courts of Asgard, where opponents trade insults in verse.” Thor explains.

“Offensive poetry?” Tony clarifies, because that sounds awesome.

Thor nods. “Loki was by far the best skilled at it – it was not for nothing he came to be known as Silvertongue. He ceased competing in official matches after a time though. He deemed there were none on Asgard who could claim to be a worthy match for his attentions.” Thor levels a thoughtful look towards Tony at this.

“So, you’re saying that Tony derailed the fight because Loki enjoys it when they’re insulting each other?” Clint says slowly.

Thor gives a rather helpless shrug. “Loki has always enjoyed flyting.”

Fire Alarms (ao3) - starlight_starbright steve/bucky, natasha/sam E, 11k

Summary: Something sets the fire alarm of and, thankfully, Steve forgets his room key.

five times bruce knew exactly what to say (ao3) - storiesfortravellers bruce/steve/tony T, 6k

Summary: “When Steve was a kid, he hated being rescued….”

Eventual Steve/Bruce/Tony.

five times bucky got permission - copperbadge steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: People keep trying to tell Bucky something, and he’s getting very confused.

Floral Engagement (ao3) - ABrighterDarkness, NachoDiablo pepper/steve T, 5k

Summary: The cute blond florist keeps gifting Pepper flowers. She's determined not to read into it. But she really should.

Food American Style (ao3) - vanillafluffy clint/phil, bucky/maria T, 3k

Summary: The Sniper!Bros get a food truck.

Food for the Heart (ao3) - LagLemon steve/tony G, 14k

Summary: After being introduced to a gourmet food on a budget blog by Pepper (a gift for her elderly, cheapskate mother) Tony starts cooking again. The recipies are good, but the blog owner is even better. Still, Tony isn’t so sure Captain America, the guy who runs the blog, can compete with Hot Bagboy, the gorgeous blond who works at the grocery store.

Forms of Love (ao3) - bear_bell bucky/tony E, 33k

Summary: Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Foundations (ao3) - AuroraWest T, 16k

Summary: Nothing crumbles all at once. Loki, and five times the cracks showed.

Four (Or Five) Reasons for Kidnapping Tony Stark - scifigrl47 steve/tony, clint/phil T, 78k

Summary: There are four reasons for kidnapping Tony Stark. Tony's sick of all of them. Well, there's potentially a fifth, but it's highly unlikely that Captain America will suddenly fulfill THAT fantasy. Tony's deeply disappointed about that.

Steve Rogers, as always, is oblivious. At least, that is, until someone who isn't him kidnaps Tony. Then he's just pissed.

From Fraud to Father (ao3) - TonyStarkissist pepper/tony T, 67k

Summary: “Tony,” she placated, “all you have to do is read a couple children's books to them and answer a few of their questions. You’ll be fine.”

“Will you come with me? You’re so good with kids,” he pleaded as she finished up with his collar and awkwardly patted the lapels of his suit down, forcing a smile onto her face when she looked up at him.

“No. I’ve got a lot of work to do. Phil’s going with you, though, and so is Happy. You shouldn’t have a problem. They'll make sure you don't do anything stupid.”

Theres a long pause before Tony finally voices his true concern.

“But what if one of them sneezes on me?"

from the ashes, we rise like the phoenix (ao3) - SpiderWidowFam88 peter/gwen, pepper/tony, steve/bucky T, 110k

Summary: *Tony Dusted instead of Peter*

Peter spent three weeks on that ship, the only thing he has to occupy him is the really old music, paper football, and the ever expanding expanse of space. Peter is pretty sure he’s gonna die up there before they even get close to Earth. So with his final moments he records his final words and goes to sleep, even though he knows he might never open his eyes again.

Carol Danvers shows up 30 minutes later…

from you i cannot hide (ao3) - SailorChibi steve/tony, bucky/natasha, clint/phil M, 66k

Summary: Being a sub isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being a sub who doesn’t like pain, well. That’s just weird. A sub’s sole responsibility in life is to be anything and everything a dom wants, an open canvas for a dom’s brush, malleable and sweet. Obie taught him that, and that fear ultimately tears him and Pepper apart. So Tony hides his dirty secret and doesn’t sub for anyone now. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting.

Full Disclosure Not Required (but Appreciated) (ao3) - Potrix steve/tony, pepper/rhodey, sam/bucky E, 16k

Summary: The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #masterlists #ficsf #ficsf masterlist

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lnterjection · 3 years

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Sleepy Bois Inc and DSMP Fanfic Recs

Uhhh I realized I have a ton of stuff in my bookmarks list and might as well compile a list of favorites because I’m always looking for good fanfics, and this might help some people. Most of these are SBI, though a few focus on things other than their dynamic with each other. Nothing explicit here. Feel free to suggest more recs.

Fics set in DSMP universe/about DSMP (One-shots first, then longer fics):

One-shots and series of one-shots-

therein lies the madness by sapphicist - 2095 words. Currently says it’s one chapter out of three complete, but can be read as a standalone one-shot. Nice introspective fic on Tommy’s exile and his parallels with Theseus. In 2nd person, but it’s actually done nicely. Mostly angsty, can have hopeful interpretation depending on how you look at it.

crazy how life goes on without me (2090 words, one-shot) by itisjosh - What if Ghostbur did remember everything, and just pretended to be clueless and vapid? Made me cry. It’s so good. Tortured my heart.

the inner mechanism of a black box (13521 words, one-shot) by Bee_4 - only work of a series called “system theory”. “Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault. There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.” Yeah so Techno’s mental health goes out the window in this one and its written brilliantly. There’s comfort at the end, if it helps?

A State For One Man Is No State At All (5247 words, two-shot) by angstfortheangstgod - “A different version of the festival, in which Dream shows up unarmed, the Community House is left intact, a traitor is executed, and Tommy doesn't betray Technoblade.” Ranboo centric. Angst and comfort.

All the Kings Men series by MollyPollyKinz - “After Ghostbur's suggestion to do Lads on Tour, Tommy finds himself reunited with his family. However, escaping from Dream is going to be harder than anyone previously thought.” A connected series of one-shots and short fics about Tommy, his exile, his family, and escaping Dream. Well written, good characterization, great studies into the characters themselves.

ad astra per aspera series by cacowhistle - Collection of one-shots that start with Tommy’s exile and expand to be about SBI and their dynamic with each other, including a resurrected Wilbur. Really, really well written and probably my favorite of the “Tommy exile fic groups”.

the fall of a hero series by cracklesnaple - “After being threatened with being exiled yet again, Tommy takes the decision into his own hands. If those around him can't see that he's given up everything to make this nation what it is, then he's not sure he can stay in L'Manburg any longer.” Series about SBI and mainly Tommy, eventually crossing over into Mianite territory in a way some might enjoy and some might now. Writing’s good, though, which is what I care about.

Longer fics-

Rewind (101002 words, 25 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by Anonymous - Best time travel fix-it fic I’ve ever read period. Tubbo and Tommy travel 10 years back from a very messed up future to the first L’Manberg election. Concept may seen a bit weird at first but trust me, holy fuck this is amazing.

second chances (hurt the most) (8841 words, 4 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by Anonymous - “Wilbur wakes up alone in a bloody room, and has to come to terms with living again. (How can he go on, knowing who's blood is on his hands?)”. Amazing fic where resurrection requires someone else’s life as sacrifice. Phil is dead. Wilbur struggles to come to terms with his father’s decision, and his second chance.

all scotch, no soda (47466 words, 43 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 14 2021) by fishstixx - “Vulnerability meant trust, though, and trust was a thing not so easily given. Post-exile and canon divergent, follows the consequences of Tommy’s isolation. Expect chases, heists, bloodshed, and the mending of a family.” Features raccon hybrid Tommy being badass, and I live for it. I really, really love this one.

DON’T FORGET THAT ICARUS FLEW. (16426 words, 6/10 chapters, last updated Jan 1. 2021) by orpheusaki - “The day before and the days that follow Tommy's exile; told through the eyes of The Blood God.” Techno (and Dream) is a god, and gods often forget how the intricacies of the minds of mortals. He’s trying to get better, however.

what do you fall for? (16374 words, complete) by tablrcloth - Ranboo centric fic with Techno, Phil and Tommy. Ranboo realizes that playing L’Manberg’s politics is less than ideal for him. What can I say, it’s just really good.

Breathing’s Just a Rhythm (12631 words, 6 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 17 2021) by MollyPollyKinz - “Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too).” Great time travel fic.

What World Have We Inherited? (73635 words, 12 chapters, unfinished and last updated on Dec 22 2020) by Anonymous (this one has a series with all their works, and they’re all AMAZING). Holy fuck this one is probably one of my favorite fics in the fandom so far. “Wilbur blows everything to hell on the day of the Manburg festival, just like he wanted. When the ashes settle, it's just Tommy and Technoblade. It's not good, but it's better than nothing. It's just them, healing up in a world that never wanted them.” Amazing characterization, worldbuilding, everyone’s internal thoughts are portrayed and written so well. Even if it never updates again I would keep coming back to it. I rec this Anon’s works so much.

In June, I Changed My Tune (29489 words, 6 chapters, unfinished and last updated on Jan 6 2021) by KryOnBlock - Eret runs away and eventually becomes friends with Techno. Nice cottagecore aesthetic. I have mixed feelings about this one - the writing’s good, descriptions and characterizations are really good. Just that there’s consistent punctuation mistakes and it takes me out of the world a bit. Everything else is good enough for me to continue reading, however.

stay with him (24353 words, 12 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 9 2021) by junipersand - I especially rec the first chapter, which can be read (and originally was) a standalone fic with the summary “Every ghost had a purpose to fulfill. So what was Tommy’s?” Utterly heartwrenching, probably the most emotionally gut-punching bit of writing I’ve ever read in this fandom. It continues with other lore stuff afterwards that eventually branch off from just SBI and Tommy, but man. I don’t think I can ever forget that first chapter.

I’m not angry at you, well, sometimes I am (52801 words, 16 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 14 2021) by sircantus - After Tommy is exiled, he runs away to Techno’s house instead of going off with Dream. SBI decide some revenge and “world domination” is in order.

Fics set in AUs outside DSMP happenings:

One-shots and series of one-shots-

Empty Crowns AU by UnderUrsa - the SBI + Tubbo are gods, and a family. Series of one-shots. Nicely written, what can I say? Some angst, some fluff.

Secure, Contain, Protect AU by blue000jay - Amazingly written SCP AU. Knowledge of the SCP universe would help with understanding some more meta things, but is not needed to understand most of it. Some angst, disturbing themes around memories but nothing terribly gory.

CLASSIFIEDS. (13804 words, finished). SCP pages on SBI, short stories and audio transcriptions as well as files, lots of good lorebuilding here. Features an escape, + Tubbo!

CONFIDENTIALS. (13232 words, finished). Centers on Dream Team.

ARCHIVES. (1270 words, one-shot). What happened after SBI and Tubbo’s escape from the SCP foundation.

old gods (new gods) AU by WriterWinged - the relatively well known SBI gods AU. Amazingly written, great character interpretations.

the gods are cruel (none crueler then you) (1394 words, one-shot) - As much the grammatical mistake in the title hurts me it’s no doubt one of the best pieces of work in the fandom.

and yet they find kindness (and so do you) (2/4 chapters posted) - continuation of “the gods are cruel”.

there’s a risk to the world (but the kindest are strongest) (2/3 chapters posted) - continuation of “the gods are cruel”.

SBI Antarctic Princes AU by ScripWriter - One of several Antarctic Empire AUs, this one just has these two preliminary one-shots but they’re nice bits of fun and neatly written. All fluff and mild hurt with lots of comfort so far.

Younger Holding On Another (1781 words, one-shot). Techno is a good brother and reassures and newly adopted Tommy.

But Oh, Don’t You Know How It Goes (2511 words. one-shot). Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur have some “fun” at a boring gala. Phil is very exasperated.

Antarctic Princes ‘verse AU by BirchWrites - AU where Techno, Tommy, and Wilbur are princes of the Antarctic Empire (well, Techno’s technically the emperor now), but this time the events of DSMP still happen (at least up to the 1st season).

Homeward bound for the arctic ground (10562 words, one-shot). Wilbur and Tommy travel to the Antarctic Empire in person to ask Techno for help in fighting Schlatt. Good worldbuilding and acknowledges Wilbur’s beginnings of insanity while still being rather light.

Surprise Hugs (2542 words, one-shot). Dream doesn’t realize Tommy is Techno’s brother and thinks he’s going to get killed for tackling the infamous Blood God.

Family Reunions (1396 words, one-shot). Fundy never realized he’s loyalty and Techno informs him unexpectedly.

Longer fics-

leave me your starlight (14620 words, 4 chapters, unfinished and last updated Jan 11 2021) by findingkairos - “Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war. This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.“ Amazing backstory fic on Phil and Techno’s relationships, one of my absolute personal favorites. Very well written and really digs into the intricacies of Techno’s character (or an interpretation of it, but hey, that’s what all fanfiction is).

I was a kid in a village, doing alright, then I became a prince overnight (21736 words, 5 chapters, last updated Jan 13 2021) by sircantus - another Antarctic princes AU, this time centering on 16 year old Tommy catching the attention of Phil, Techno, and Wilbur after thwarting an assassination attempt. Really well written. Actually, I rec all of sircantus’ SBI stuff because they do amazing work.

antarctic adage (26591 words, 4/7 chapters posted, last updated Jan 13 2021) by blue000jay - Another very well written Antarctic princes AU with Emperor/ruler Phil. Are we seeing a pattern yet? blue000jay is another writer I’d rec, with really great SBI stuff.

a renewal of faith, and of family (56684 words, 31 chapters, unfinished, last updated Jan 13 2021) by SolivangantStories - One of the only fics here that doesn’t feature SBI, this one is Tubbo and Dream centered. Basically, the DSMP!Tubbo is executed by Schlatt and wakes up in a world where Manhunt!Dream is trying not to die and is also actually a nice person, to Tubbo’s surprise and confusion. Not SBI and technically not even DSMP, but it’s really good so I’ve decided to rec it anyway.

#dream smp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfiction #fanfic recs #dsmp #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza #tommyinnit #tubbo #dream #ranboo #feel free to suggest more recs #sbi fanfic recs #sbi fanfic

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pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

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Fics I Absolutely Adore and Would Recommend to Anyone

I’ve been meaning to do this for a long, long time, because I love reading fanworks and they deserve a lot of love and I love sharing things that I love.

Obviously this isn’t everything, and if it’s not on this list that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means I forgot at this moment. I will be adding to the list and I remember things or come across it again. (Trying to sort through my bookmarks and subscriptions is like trying to catch a fish bare-handed.) I’m also gonna shy away from the one-shots, even though I adore fun one-shots, just for the sake of organization. The list would be super long otherwise, and those are best sorted by fandom. Here... Here are just some brilliant works I want to rant about.

Disclaimer: I say “recommend” because I would recommend these works, any time any place, but do keep in mind the story’s rating and tags and stuff. Not everything is kid-friendly.

There is absolutely no hierarchy to the list below. They are added as I add.

Fairy Dance of Death

by Catsy ( @fairydanceofdeath )

Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 660,282 Status: ongoing

「AU reboot of the entire SAO storyline, beginning from the premise that Kayaba Akihiko was obsessed with magic and Norse Mythology rather than swords and pure melee. As a result, he created the Death Game of Alfheim Online rather than the floating castle of Aincrad—a world in which player-killing is not a crime, and the nine player races are in competition with each other to reach the top of the World Tree. Multi-POV epic following the stories of multiple canon characters throughout the game.」

If Catsy wrote the SAO light novels and anime, SAO would be among the legendary series. Fairy Dance of Death has this amazingly simple premise of making Alfheim Online, the video game from the original series’ less-than-stellar second part, the game that the main cast becomes trapped in. However, it’s so much more. They took the characters and made them characters, and everyone gets ample spotlight—even background characters that normally wouldn’t receive a second thought. It’s masterful work, and to boot, there is a lovely frame of in-game mystery and player conflict. The organization is phenomenal and I aspire to world-build the way they did. Not to mention that stakes are so much higher and this series has ripped my heart to shreds more than once.

It has also brought me great joy, and even when I was in the dumps and didn’t want to read anything, a FDOD update made me pick up my phone and read when I otherwise wouldn’t have. It has a really special place in my heart. It updates once in a blue moon, but that’s okay.

Even if you have never seen a single piece of Sword Art Online, Fairy Dance of Death is still a great read. In fact, it’s the Better Version of SAO, if we’re all being honest, so I would especially recommend it if you hadn’t seen the original. Or if you have. The characters are given so much love and detail, to the point where Fairy Dance of Death’s characterizations are More Canon to me than Kawahara Reki’s work. It is just a beautiful piece of fiction, and it makes you question the depravity of man on levels that SAO shied away from.

Poisoned Dreams

by StrangeDiamond

Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 82,852 Status: Complete, with a complete sequel and more to come

「 Every night now, Diluc dreams of death. Usually Kaeya's. In between these nightmares his life is falling apart. It doesn't take Kaeya long to realize that this is something much more insidious than simple bad dreams. His brother's life and sanity are on the line and there is nothing Kaeya won't do to save him. Bonus chapter added.」

In a growing fandom from a new game, StrangeDiamond swooped in and characterized these bad boys so well I think it’s canon. It really breathes life into the video game lore, and it’s an A+ depiction of awkward sibling re-bonding post-Terrible-Happenings. Poisoned Dreams can be read alone with a basic understanding of Genshin storybuilding, but StrangeDiamond has an entire group of fics and oneshots set in the same headcanon, and they integrate them really well and subtly together. Not to mention that the narrative style is really clever with making you question what is real and what is dream (a big point in this story) and the inner voices of the point-of-view characters are very compelling.

One Word to Change the World

by AgentMalkere

Fandom: Fairy Tail Collective Word Count: 43,988 (30 parts) Status: probably never coming back

「 In just one universe, Ultear called out to her mother instead of turning away and the fate of Fairy Tail and the world was irrevocably altered. These are glimpses of a world where a single word made all the difference.

In other words, welcome to the Butterfly Effect - Fairy Tail style. 」

It’s a really cute canon-divergent, and while the series makes no attempt to re-write Fairy Tail, it addresses the major events and just snippets in between. It does a good job at giving the vast cast ample spotlight, but it’s also an easy read. It’s special to me because it was the series that made me really pay attention to Bickslow in particular, and I respect that.

Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis

by aradian_nights

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 399,226 Status: Complete

「 Five years ago, an accident freed Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlelt from an experiment that forced the most extraordinary powers onto them. After five years of separation, of being raised apart to be heroes by a set of three very different adults, they meet again. As they uncover the truth behind their captivity they realize being free and being heroes are sadly nothing but an illusion. 」

This wrecked me.

I still remember when I read it. It was the beginning of 2018, and I had the flu and a lot of time on my hands, so I binge-read this. It was simultaneously the best and the worst thing I have ever done, because I resonated with it so deeply there were times I was just staring up at the ceiling wondering what was real. I empathized with the characters to a level I rarely achieve, and I empathize easily. I laughed. I cried. It was amazing.

I refer to this story in conversation to this day. It handled themes published authors have only dreamed of achieving. Heck, if Dani (the author) took out the names of the AoT cast and replaced it with new ones, it could be its own stand alone novel. It is worldbuilding from the ground up, and any fandom knowledge you take in with you is used against you like a knife leveraged against your throat. Yet, no one is out of character. It’s phenomenal. I would say more, but this is something I daren’t spoil for anybody, because you must be as wrecked as I was. Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis is a level of writing I achieve to gain as a writer myself. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Life in Glass Houses

by blueskyscribe ( @blueskyscribe )

Fandom: Transformers (Transformers Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass) Word Count: 119,900 Status: Ongoing (maybe, I hope)

「 No one would have thought Bumblebee and Knock Out were capable of getting along, but when they're stuck in a strange new world and their only hope of survival is cooperation . . . Yeah, they're probably doomed. 」

I could be biased because Knock Out and Bumblebee are two of my favorite characters, but it really is brilliant. Two enemies, stuck together—but not in an overly cliché way. It’s the right amount of cliché, with heaps moral conflict and inner conflict and sometimes just beating each other with a broom when no one is looking. It’s also a fascinating look into what makes a character the way they are in relation to the morals they possess, and how stalwart those morals can be. I can’t help but think of this story whenever I see or write a “role reverse” or mirror-verse AU. It does an excellent job at making all of the characters engaging and their own character, despite being in a mirror-verse.

Yesterday Upon the Stair

by PitViperOfDoom ( @pitviperofdoom )

Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 424,070 Status: Complete

「 Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. 」

As a person who normally doesn’t read these kind of minor canon divergences, especially at the time of reading, I frickin’ love this fic. In fact, I think YUTS gave me a deep appreciation for canon divergence fics. It’s MHA in all of its glory but it’s so much more, and even the parts that rehash canon give new light to the characters and their points of view.

I had read Viper’s work before and saw Yesterday Upon the Stair filling my inbox, and then I finally watched My Hero Academia. It was one of the first MHA fics I read and it still has a very special place in my heart. I recommend this series to people who don’t even watch MHA; in fact, there are some who might prefer the darker tones and themes of heroism vs apathy to the main series. Not to mention the writing style is phenomenal, and I aspire to be that good. It made me laugh. It made me cry. Yes, tears streaming down my face crying. It is the best ghost story I have ever read.

the Vantage Point Universe

by Aggie2011 ( @aggie2011whoop )

Fandom: The Avengers (MCU) Collective Word Count: 1,032,651 (35 parts) Status: Ongoing (just slowed down)

「 Six months after the Loki incident, Clint isn't adjusting well. When an enemy from his days in the Army comes back to haunt him, he'll be forced to face a part of his past - and to move past Loki, if he has a hope of finding his place with the Avengers. (First of a universe created to center around Clint Barton) 」

// description taken from first installment

Have you enjoyed the MCU, especially the first-era Avengers phase, but like me, were disappointed in the fact that Hawkeye was barely there? The VP universe is for you.

I honestly have a hard time remembering what was canon and what was VP. And if it’s not canon, it should be. The VP universe gave so much life to Clint and to Natasha and to all of SHIELD and even the rest of the Avengers. It’s just...so good. It’s completely immersive. It focuses a lot on Hawkeye and Black Widow from before the Avengers team-up, as well as after, and it all flows together so beautifully. Not to mention that I can be reading a mission that happened pre-series, so I know that they are going to live with all of their limbs, and I still sit there on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The OCs, minor as they are, that are created for this are also wonderfully done. I can’t believe Dan and Phil don’t exist in canon. Every character, canon or no, is engaging and dynamic, it is a pleasure to follow each point of view. The emotional turmoil is also handled very well, and the VP universe carries the MCU trend of humanizing its heroes and takes it so much further.

Ghosts of the Future

by Evan Stanley ( @evanstanleyportfolio )

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog Word Count: comic (18 issues) Status: ongoing

「 About 200 years in the future, Silver the Hedgehog is an average kid living in San Francisco... except for his strange and terrible dreams of a dying Blue Hedgehog, a Black Hedgehog, and mysterious gems called "Chaos Emeralds". What will he do, when these "figments of his imagination" appear before him in his real life? 」

// description taken from first installment

Okay so this is the only one that isn’t an Ao3 story, but rather a comic on DeviantArt. However, it is still one of my favorite stories. Even though it takes the commonalities of Sonic canon and turns them on its head, GotF really treats the characters well. There are enough familiar world elements to create intrigue, but it is set in a completely different take of the future, so there is ample opportunity for world building and being able to engage with a completely new thing. I wish SEGA put as much love in the series (namely the games, because the comics are *chef’s kiss*) and all of its possibilities as creators like Evan Stanley do.

The friendship and family relationships in GotF are so diverse and all so fantastic to witness. It’s a keynote example of the new hero and the old veterans, and both parties are active and trying their best.

Do not be alarmed by the starting art style. Sure, it’s rough around the edges at first, but then it gets better, and then it gets gorgeous, and then you’re left there so stunned that it looks like just life canon art. And then you could be like me, blinking slowly as my small brain finally connected that this Evan Stanley is in fact the Evan Stanley. GotF is an amazing fanwork, but she also draws and writes for the Official Canon comics (the IDW ones now) and that work is also phenomenal and should be supported.

Whirlwind

by Lynse ( @ladylynse )

Fandom: Danny Phantom, American Dragon: Jake Long, Miraculous Ladybug, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Word Count: 75,556 Status: Complete

「 Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. (Secret Quartet fic) 」

I have to start by saying that I adore all of Lynse’s fics, and I chose this one simply because it is one of my favorites. But it’s all fantastic, one hundred percent. I also love Mirrored, the sort-of prequel to this fic, but Whirlwind just has the chaotic pure bean energy that each of the shows bring and it foils against each other so perfectly. This is the epitome of the Secret Quartet crossover, truly.

All fandoms and all characters get ample love, and the way the reader gets to see just how badly the characters’ assumptions are going is positively wonderful. It’s so easy to fall into the “I know what’s happening and so do the characters” trap, but Lynse leaps over it gracefully and lands in greatness. The fic had me smiling like a maniac one minute, and feeling sorry for my babies the next. Wonderful. Simply fantastic!

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musette22 · 3 years

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Sorry to rant, but I'm disappointed in some people behavior about Chris MCU news. We all have to remember that Steve Rogers is a character who has countless canon storylines. He married Peggy and became old in a comic, it's not something the Russo invented. If Chris actually comes back to play another version of Steve we should be happy. Endgame is done because that's one of the many storylines. I'm sorry people think their fanon non existent version of a character or ship should be canon.

Hi there! Thanks for sharing your thoughts. First of all, let me say that your opinion on this is of course totally valid - just as valid as anyone else’s - but at the same time, I have to admit that I don’t necessarily agree. Sorry, this is long, so I’ll put it under the keep reading tag.

Yes, these characters started out as canon, and any new MCU material would of course be canon as well, so I do understand what you mean when you say there’s a distinction between fanon and canon. But personally, I don’t care much about at all about what’s canon or what isn’t. I’m grateful to the creators of these canonical, fictional figures for giving us these characters and storylines, but I am under no obligation to like everything they did with them after. I personally care about good, consistent characterisations for my favourite characters, and I care about their potential to bring people joy or comfort or catharsis, or whatever it is they’re looking for in these fictional characters and ships (crucial here is that what brings me joy or comfort or whatever is not necessarily what brings you joy or comfort, and that’s ok). And personally, I have a lot more faith in fanon to provide me with those things than I do in canon.

I understand that that sets me apart from the Marvel fans who love and care more about the comics and/or the MCU as a whole, and I can even understand that in their eyes, I’m not a real fan. But I do have an emotional investment in these characters, and while we may interpret them differently, they mean just as much (if not more) to me as they do to a ‘real’ Marvel fan. And therefore I am just as entitled to an opinion on developments that concern these characters as anyone else is.

Also, while I haven’t read the comics and as such readily admit that I’m not well versed in the different comic storylines, I do know that the MCU and the comics diverge on many points. I also know that just because something happened in a comic once, that doesn’t necessarily make it a good storyline, or one that I have to find satisfactory when applied to the movie versions of these characters. Endgame was an amalgamation of those 20-ish other MCU movies, which all drew on the the comics to some extent, but which also invented plenty of new concepts and narratives (with their own set of issues), which have to be judged on their own merit and in the appropriate context, imo.

Lastly, I also feel strongly that no one “should” have to do anything. We’re all here because we love something, but we’re never all going to love exactly the same things in exactly the same ways. In my opinion, fandom is a space where anything is possible, and not something that should be policed. Of course there will be people who would be very happy to have Steve back in any capacity, and that’s perfectly fine and valid! Similarly, it’s completely fine and valid if people don’t want him to return, and are not excited at the prospect of seeing more of old man Steve & Peggy, or are worried about what Steve’s return would mean for Sam Wilson’s Captain America.

My point is, there will be different opinions on all of this, that’s only natural. And of course you’re free to disagree with some of them, but I also feel like it’s important to respect that others will feel differently, without telling them what they should or shouldn’t do. I happen to disagree with many opinions in within this fandom, but as long as those opinions don’t harm anyone, I just tune them out and shrug them off. I believe that’s the only way to keep fandom a pleasant space for all of us <3

#I say 'anything is possible'#but obviously there are boundaries and limits in fandom just as there are boundaries and limits in real life #but I'm assuming we're all clear on those #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #minnie answers #Anonymous

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godkilller · 3 years

Text

@shirenui144

A more sombre question, but had me wondering... Has Gin ever cried / what would it take to make him cry? I imagine it would be verse dependent, but could a man this guarded ever visibly show such emotional hurt?

out of character. Why must you hurt me.

But it’s an excellent question, and as you say too -- Gin has become such a guarded, numbed, and twisted man. He has, for lack of better wording, killed off that part of himself long ago. He is also one of the topmost guarded characters in Bleach, even Ichigo’s little trick of ‘reading his opponent’s heart’ during battle did not work on Gin. Gin was empty. Gin wasn’t even ‘looking at Ichigo’ with his heart when fighting. They did not reach each other. Gin is so utterly closed off from others and himself that there’s an eerie absence of self present in him, a swallowing abyss, intimidating and oppressive. Gin has also spent his entire existence isolated, he joined Aizen extremely young and thus his centuries-long otherness began. He cannot show emotions akin to Toshiro, who is often used in ways alongside Gin to show what happens if one shows emotions and weakness to Aizen Sousuke via childhood friends. Renji and Rukia, too, are used in ways that contrast Gin and Rangiku subtly in the background. Gin’s interactions with Rukia about Renji, and his interactions with Toshiro about Momo are to make Gin more of an other. He is removed, unlike them.

So Gin does not despair openly like they do. He doesn’t shout or cry for the audience to see. He’s a villainous cold-hearted bastard.

This is on top of the potent sense of cultural toxic masculinity and military way of avoiding / “dealing with” emotionally charged moments, not speaking of trauma, and the whole nine yards of suppression which channels into self-worth issues and a tendency for violence. Most characters in Bleach, and especially male characters, aren’t allowed to really stop and think about what they’re feeling, doing -- Ichigo being able to do a decent amount of that, yes, with his protagonist badge, but even then ? It’s pathetically insufficient, barely a taste of what Ichigo actually should be experiencing, and no other characters are allowed to mourn losses or suffer long-lasting consequences for their actions, for injuries, for mistakes, for harmful words or acts. It’s an action / fighting series, the audience is here for big flashy swordfights and cool abilities, not emotions. Certainly not darker topics of PTSD and the like.

You can slice it any which way, but Gin grew up as a child soldier. It can be contrasted by the fact that the majority of the Gotei 13 / Shinigami characters are shown, in flashbacks, as entering the Academy whilst in adulthood, becoming Shinigami once adults, with the exception of people like Toshiro, Momo, Hiyori, who all look / are perpetually young.

Gin is a little older than Toshiro, for context, by the way -- and he is younger than Byakuya. Because Tite doesn’t know how the ages of his own characters work, it can be argued that Gin and Hiyori are possibly within the same ballpark in terms of ages. But like. Look at her. What the fuck. ANYWAYS, the point is ? Gin’s young, and his trauma is fairly fresh. From the Winter War -- and then 110 years into the past to the Turn Back the Pendulum arc -- Gin spends the majority of his childhood either playing caretaker for Rangiku, who is actually a little older than him, and then killing; first, the three Shinigami that attacked Rangiku, then the Third Seat of the Fifth Division, and then many more likely during his career of observing failed projects at Aizen’s side, witnessing horrific Hollowification experimentations, and many more things. The crucial period of development for things like higher level empathy ( Gin showcases it by sharing his food with Rangiku, a stranger, and then we see the absolute absence of it from then on ) and Gin swiftly enters into the midst of Erikson’s industry vs. inferiority stage of development; what does he have to offer the world ? What can he become ? Will he be good enough ? This is the stage in which Gin makes the connection as well as makes peace with becoming a monster; this is what I’m offering, this is what I’m becoming, this will be good enough.

He flipped a switch. It’s questionable whether or not Gin has the ability to cry once he’s an established Third Seat. It’s gone, it’s been swallowed down a hole so deep and dark Gin doesn’t want to go searching for it. He doesn’t want to cry. Gin already has a negative connotation connected to crying given his quote “I’m gonna become a Shinigami, change things for ya, so that you don’t have to cry anymore, Rangiku.” Not crying = good. Not crying means better. Rangiku crying over what was done to her was what embedded into Gin that he needed to be stronger. No crying allowed. None. In his mind, obviously, Gin doesn’t actually make that connection that ‘because Rangiku did this, I’ll do this’ no, he’s not so meticulously aware yet, but there’s certainly an imprint left on him from those earlier years in the Rukongai, dreading her tears, hating them, hating those men, and so crying = murderous intent. Crying = anger.

If Gin cried as a child, he didn’t realize he was doing so. I can see him crying in his sleep from a dream, a nightmare, a jam-packed series of emotions hitting him whilst vulnerable, whilst unable to smile and swallow it all down. I can see him waking from it and wiping at his face, feeling utter detachment like an ache in his chest, an otherness, like that wasn’t even him crying, that wasn’t him. Gin wouldn’t think more of it, he wouldn’t dare linger on the thoughts. Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know.mp4 and all that jazz.

Gin is more likely to lash out in anger than let himself cry. I have a headcanon / drabble somewhere of Gin screaming into his inner world, clutching at his hair, feeling so terribly close to crying but he can’t, it literally will not happen. He’s too bottled up and frustrated from that that when he actually has an opportunity to cry and it doesn’t naturally happen because he’s become so suppressed, it just outright angers him. Because he has latched everything up, lock and key, by the time Gin’s an adult -- if he were to cry as an adult, it’d be during a flurry of explosive emotions. He cannot just casually let loose, no, that door’s jammed shut, it’s been coiled tight in him. A pit of despair by the time the Winter War rolls by. Gin admits to feeling anxiety, dread, during that conflict -- a sign of slowly coming undone, no longer able to keep himself from hesitance, doubt, insecurity, and anticipation hovering around him like a dark cloud. Gin cannot cry, though, not now. Not when he’s so close to making all the pain worth something...

So it’s no surprise that Gin really only starts getting the actual opening to properly cry in my canon divergent verses. But the catch !!!! Gin has failed so thoroughly and so brutally that he feels he doesn’t deserve to weep about it. That this is merely a fraction of the karma he deserves. He experiences suicidal ideation, daydreaming of how it’d simply be easier if he hadn’t survived at all. He feels too hollow to cry, then, at the start. He feels too heavy, too much, it’s too much to cry about. He ruined himself and Rangiku for nothing. He did all of this for nothing. And now Rangiku wants answers, still waiting, watching him, and he can’t cry in front of her. IT’S STILL INGRAINED IN HIM FROM CHILDHOOD: she’s the one who cries and he’s the one who comforts. The audacity of him to cry in front of her after everything he put her through, as though he were the victim and her the one needing to comfort him. Gin may be morally gray, but at times he truly sees the world in black and white. No moderation, no give and take.

It’d hit him later, when he’s learning to become more vulnerable. When he’s trying to open up to Rangiku about something he has to rip from himself, his heart holding onto this sorrow for so long Gin has to surgically remove the truth from himself. AS A CHILD, WITNESSING WHAT HAPPENED TO RANGIKU COUNTS AS A TRAUMATIC EVENT. Not talking about it for 110+ years does a number or two on you when you at last, FINALLY, tell her the fucking scoop. Gin repressed what happened to Rangiku because he recognized that Rangiku did not fully and properly remember, recollect, what happened to her. He knew. Gin saw.

Compartmentalizing her trauma on top of his own, as though a keeper of it, a sin-eater, Gin would feel absolute despairing relief at finally telling her. Despairing because he’ll be inflicting upon her something he’s been holding back, holding that door shut, for the entirety of their knowing of one another, and to finally let go of the door and let that beast of trauma go charging at her undeterred ? There’s immense guilt attached to this entire affair. Gin feels childlike guilt; why her, and not me ? I wish it could’ve been me, we could’ve traded places and I’d be fine, I’d live, we could live happy together. Akin to survivor’s guilt, Gin wishes those men had found him and taken a piece of his soul rather than Rangiku’s. The ‘why’ of it haunts him. Why her. Why didn’t I stop them. Why didn’t I show up sooner. I could’ve bitten at them, kicked and hit, we could have escaped together -- or at least you could have. Gin also feels guilt at a base adult level: why am I keeping this from her ? No, it’s too late to tell her, she’s happier now, there will never be a good time to tell her.

There are so many things, feelings, thoughts, that Gin has never shared with Rangiku due to it all being tied to the unspoken secret he’s let fester inside of him.

SO WHEN GIN FINALLY TELLS RANGIKU WHY HE JOINED AIZEN, WHY HE TRIED TO KILL AIZEN, WHY HE SAID THOSE WORDS TO HER DURING THAT BLIZZARD AND BECAME A SHINIGAMI ... GIN’S GOING TO BREAK DOWN.

The truth is tied to vulnerability in Gin’s mind. Telling it means ripping himself apart at the seams. Everything he crafted himself out to be was made around this secret. It’s going to be bloody, it’s going to hit him like a fucking train. Gin’s going to feel it coming, rumbling on the tracks, he’ll hear it even, that approaching storm, he’ll know by the prickle at his eyes and the closing of his throat, but still nothing’s ever prepared him for the absolute choked finality of the truth, and he’s going to do his best to hold it back -- it’s instinctive, it’s in his blood by now to mask it, stop it, divert and drawl his way out of it. But this time he can’t just stop halfway and distract her, talk about something else. No, Gin’s cornered himself and it’s high time Rangiku got the truth from him, he can’t run away any more. He’ll have to grit his teeth and talk through it, swallow it back just enough to speak, to tell her what he’s done to them both and for what, for why, it’s the worst possible conversation they could ever have, but one they need. And Gin’s going to find himself incapable of holding back a sob the more he discloses, the more that slips out and escapes him the more the emotions tied to that sunken anchor come up too. He will feel simultaneously lighter and heavier for it.

There are numerous ways Gin’s thought about wording it. He’s thought about the numbed approach, MISSION REPORT style: Aizen Sousuke harvested souls from the 64th Rukongai District, they took a piece from you. Perhaps not, no, not like that. Maybe... back when y’were a kid, there were three Shinigami assigned to the 64th District to collect souls to fuel Aizen Sousuke’s Hogyoku. They took somethin’ from you. I saw it. I saw them hoverin’ over you, I saw it in their hands. I saw’em offer it up to Aizen in the forest, collectin’ firewood. I saw him.

WHY DIDN’T I STOP HIM, WHY DIDN’T I ATTACK THOSE THREE MEN THEN AND THERE IN BROAD DAYLIGHT WITH YOUR COLLAPSED FORM A FEW FEET AWAY, MAYBE I COULD HAVE TAKEN THEM ON AFTER ALL. I COULD HAVE CRUSHED A SKULL IN WITH STONE, I COULD’VE STOLEN HIS SWORD BEFORE THE LIFE FULLY FADED FROM HIM AND MADE IT VANISH, I COULD’VE CARVED THROUGH THE SECOND, SLICE THE TENDON AT THE THIRD’S ANKLE AS HE ATTEMPTED TO FLEE, WARN OTHERS. SLIT HIS THROAT AS HE CRAWLED AWAY. YOU’D HEAR IT, OFF TO THE SIDE. YOU’D SEE ME COME UP TO YOU WITH BLOOD SPLATTERS. YOU’D SEE ME LEAN OVER YOU WITH NOT A PERSIMMON OFFERED, NO, YOUR OWN FUCKING SOUL THEY PLUCKED FROM YOU. SHAKY HAND. BLOODIED HAND. TAKE IT, TAKE IT BACK. I FIXED IT --

Just tell her. JUST TELL HER.

DO YOU REMEMBER THE DAY WE MET, RANGIKU ... ?

#[ headcanon ] fresh snowfall; fading footprints mark his path #[ verse: redemption ] i am healing by mistake; rome is also built on ruins #me: i wanna cover more but also i. oof.

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hotsexydorks · 3 years

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I really loved your "Daddy's Boys" story from your Prompts & Scribbles Collection. Do you think you could expand a little more on that 'verse? Jordan definitely needs to join the family—as you had foreshadowed at the end—but what about another Daddy to help the poor Sheriff out with all his needy boys? I feel like Daddy Argent could be up to the task... :3c

Picked up the story from where it left off in the first one :)

Daddy’s Boys 2 : Sheriff/Parrish

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/chapters/80706124

The drive to the convention droned on as the pair travelled down the road. Having set out early in the morning John feigned wanting to catch more sleep by turning his head to the side and pulling back the seat. In reality the man was just plotting his next move. This power he had was his, he didn’t know how long for or what it meant but he knew what he wanted, right now he wanted a way to corrupt his new Deputy.

Taking the entire drive to think about his plans John could feel a part of him enjoying it and wanting more. It felt so right, so right that he could see that even just his thoughts could affect the world around him, it gave him a rush like he had never felt before.

“Uh. Sheriff?” Parrish called out. Reaching out he touched the older man’s shoulder to wake him. Giving a gentle shake he rolled his neck and body after the quiet drive.

All the time that John had to himself let the Sheriff come up with a plan for their weekend. His experience with his three boys already had given him enough knowledge to know that the more general the better. Starting with smaller pieces and building them up was the best way and the fastest way. After all Derek barely lasted a few days before he was his, now he was sure Parrish would be his by the end of the long weekend.

“You know I wish you’d relax more around me when we’re not at work.” Just like all the times before John could feel the little pulse radiate from his body, the coin around his neck glinting gently on the chain.

Blinking a few times at the reflection of the light in his eyes Parrish shook his head, swinging the tiredness off of his body and with it began shedding his old self. “Sorry John, I guess it’s just some old ranking habits from the army.” He tried to excuse himself for his overt properness that had earned him his nickname of Scout in the station bullpen.

“It’s alright Jordan.” The boss replied, sitting up slowly and looking around at the hotel.

“Looks like they picked out a fancy place for this year’s convention.” He said with a whistle joining in with the Sheriff’s assessment of the building.

“As long as they’re paying.” John agreed with a chuckle.

Getting out of the car together the pair both did simultaneous stretches, taking in the fresh flowing air and basking in the warm glow of the high morning sun.

“Well let’s go get checked in and put our things in our room. We’ve got free time until the first meeting later on.” Sheriff said opening up the back of the car and taking his things out, Parrish on the other side doing the same.

Entering the tall hotel they walked through the grandiose lobby. Passing various people around them John recognised a few faces in the crowds; cops that he had started with, some officers that he had met a few years into his job, even older officers that continued to help out. Following the scattered trail of people they made their way to the front desk.

“How about you go sign us in with convention and I’ll get the keys to the room and I’ll meet you back over by the desk.” John suggested with a nod in the direction of the organisation desk.

“Sure thing Sher-- John.” Catching his own words Jordan chuckled as he corrected himself and left the older man.

With diverging tasks John watched Parrish go off already setting his plan in motion for his newest boy.

“Hi, I have a booking under Stilinski.”

“Certainly sir..” With a quick flurry of the information the receptionist looked for their booking. “That’s one room with two singles.” He said asking for the confirmation.

“Actually, there’s been a slight change, could I get the room changed to a single queen?” John asked, trying to vie for a different room without being too aggressive in his approach.

“Let me look it up for you…” Clacking at the keyboard again he looked up with slight worry on his face. “I’m afraid we’re almost fully booked with the convention, the only room we have left available is the honeymoon suite which will cost you extra if you want to upgrade.”

This was perfect, almost too perfect for his plans, fighting back the smirk that wanted to flash on his face. John nodded with only a small smile. “That’s okay, could you charge it to my card?” He asked, wanting to snatch up the room as quickly as possible John pushed his card across the counter giving the hotel worker the go ahead.

“Alright then let me just change this up…” The clerk worked the system and quickly changed John’s booking around giving him the suite and swapping the rooms. “That’s all confirmed on our end, here is your key and your room is 802. The elevator is down that hallway and then the room will be left after doors open on the eighth floor. I hope you have a pleasant stay with us.“

Taking everything back with that same smile John nodded. “Thanks. I’m sure it'll all be perfect” Winking a the worker John picked up the things and made his way over to the desk seeing Jordan chatting with a few other new recruits to the force.

The male was smiling and being courteous to the strangers, an aspect John had admired about him which made him want to leave his mark behind it all even more. Take the clean interior and paint it.

“Sheriff Stilinski!” One of the stationed volunteers called out to the older man with a smile. “I heard you were joining us with a new second this year, which must be this strapping gentleman here.”

Parrish blushed a little bit at the praise he had received from the strangers, being polite and courteous wasn’t anything he thought was that out of the ordinary.

“That’s right, Deputy Parrish has been a great help to the station and to me since he joined, I’m very proud of him.” John smiled at the Deputy making him blush even more.

“John… uh, Sheriff Stilinski - “ Correcting himself again Jordan quickly made sure that he didn’t leave any dead air. “- is just being kind. I’m only helping out here and there, it’s really all the other officers that do the heavy lifting.” Trying to smile kindly he swept at the praise and looked almost pleadingly to John for a proverbial life ring.

“He’s just being modest, our Scout here is worth every bit of praise he gets.” Laughing properly the older man patted Jordan on the back as he started to disengage the situation. “We should head up to our room though, get our stuff down and stretch out after the long drive.”

Waving them off the pair separated from the side group and started away from the main floor towards the elevator. As the elevator rose through the floors the sound waved in the background behind them with stereotypical elevator music filling the empty space.

“Thanks, I didn’t think they were going to let me go unless I ran.” Jordan tried to make a joke at how heavily friendly the group had been when he first went over to sign them in.

“Trust me, if you think they’re bad now wait till you find them at the bar after hours. You need to be Houdini to get away from them.”

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind and get an exit strategy in place. How was everything with reception? Was there any trouble?”

Being asked about the other side of their plans John let out a soft sigh. “Well it seems like there was a mix up in some bookings so our room got changed but we’ll just have to see what it is. I’m sure we’ll be able to make do with what we’ve got. He said that they were booked up with the convention going on this weekend.”

The elevator dinged in perfect time, opening the doors a moment later to the corridor. Following down the signs and the numbers John and Parrish traveled down the floor that had its rooms sporadically spread out.

“800… 801…” John muttered to himself as they both looked for their room.

“802?” Parrish called out looking at the door in front of him, stealing a glance at what was written on the key slip they had.

“802.” Nodding in reply John smiled, lifting up the key for the door and unlocking it with a simple swipe of the card. “Home sweet home.”

In the room it was lavishly open. It was more of a bachelor apartment than it was a hotel room. Stepping in they were greeted to an open room, neatly spread spaces that flowed into the next with ease. One corner had couches surrounding a coffee table that all faced onto a wall mounted TV. The other a small little kitchen area with high seats and a counter. Facing out over the top of the city line they had a balcony that overlooked the surrounding area which had to be one of the best views in the place.

But the expense didn’t end there. Off against the wall on the other side was their bed, a comfortable queen sized bed, just one. The single unit bed was enough to stop their amazement of the room.

“There’s only one bed.” Jordan pointed out as their bags came to a halt.

“That’s no problem right? The couch doesn’t look all that comfortable but we can share, it’s got plenty of room.” John said as he truly acted nonchalant about the fact there was one bed after all he was the one that orchestrated it. “Hey Parrish, look over here. There’s a jacuzzi bath here as well.” The Sheriff called out, waving the Deputy towards him and showing the wide open bathroom.

“Seems more like an upgrade than a mix up, but are you sure sharing the bed is okay? I don’t want it to--”

“Relax Jordan, I told you before, didn't I? You should be more relaxed around me.” John started to slowly twist the earlier change he had made earlier in the car, glinting again around his neck the coin shone in the overhead light.

“Right.. You’re right, Sorry John, I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve had to share a space with someone before, let alone my boss.” Straightening his clothes Jordan swallowed down with the confession the changing male looked around as he grabbed his shirt and fanned the air from his body. “Do you mind if I take some clothes off? It was a long drive and I don’t want to sweat out my clothes.” He asked as he had already begun peeling his t-shirt and dropping it to the floor.

“No go right ahead, do what you need to do, it’s just us here after all.” John reassured him with a slight hesitancy at how fast things had begun to shift. Of course he had anticipated for things to move faster but this was still faster than even he thought.

Disappearing from view for a moment Jordan stepped to the couch and started to hang his clothes out so that they could air without becoming stale, but he didn’t stop there. Coming back Jordan was dressed only in a pair of white briefs, cut up into his crotch; the briefs could have been mistaken for a thong if it weren’t for thinner covering over his ass. Which explained to John how the other’s ass always looked so smooth in the tight work pants of their uniform.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m usually just lounging in my own place. After spending time in the army you kind of get used to it, you know?” Jordan asked, alluding to the man’s own time serving. With a smile as he came back and looked around the tub. “I haven’t had a good tub in a long time, I’ve been meaning to get one for my place but they’re so expensive to run.”

“Not at all.” John replied, his eyes eagerly taking in the other’s body. Being almost fresh off of his time in service Parrish’s body was still in peak condition. Muscles cut and strong, his skin was also smooth and soft. All of it looking like it was calling out to the man for his marks.

Usually walking around his own apartment in his underwear Jordan’s mind began to slowly twist and form into this new Jordan that was placing John in that same space that would allow him to lower his inhibitions and open himself up to becoming one of John’s boys - one of Daddy’s boys.

“Why don’t we try it out? After all, we’ve got time before we’re needed for anything and the opening meeting is always just a standard introductory meeting that we could skip.” John tested the hypothetical waters dipping his idea into the space with a little wave. “It would be a good way of relaxing together and building our bond.” John pushed a little more trying to shape the other’s view of it with his nudges.

“Sounds like a good idea, as long as you’re okay with skinny dipping. I didn’t bring any swimming stuff with me and I don’t think it’d be a great idea to get our underwear soaked in the tub.” The younger male explained looking around the bathroom for things that would make their shared, essentially, bath together more than just water.

“That was exactly what I was thinking.” Smiling at the other John clapped at Jordan’s shoulder as he passed him. Going out to the bed right beside the bathroom the older man started to take his clothes off. “Start the water so it’s good and hot.”

Reaching down Jordan fiddled with the taps and started to fill the tub and turn on the heater as well. Putting in some of the complimentary bath lotions to give the water a little scent but not enough to fill it with bubbles and perfume.

Once the water was one the rise Jordan pulled down his underwear and threw them onto the rack by the wall to get them out of the way so that he could get into the pool without a worry. Leaning over, Parrish bent down, sticking his hand into the tub to test the temperature of the water as it filled up and that was how the Sheriff found him.

Naked and reaching down Jordan’s ass was sticking out behind him, an enticing sight all for him to see. Making the mental note of it being the first time he gets to see the other’s body John approached him from the side his own boxer briefs still on.

“How’s the water?”

“Almost there, just waiting on it to fill up -- “ Turning around to speak to the other Parrish immediately noticed the other’s state of dress. “I thought we were going to skinny dip it?” He asked, now feeling a little bit embarrassed about his own naked state.

“We are, but you know how it is. It can get a bit cold, no one wants to be the smallest in the group.” John chuckled. Reaching down he took a light grasp of his crotch and showed off how deceptive the bulge was behind the underwear.

After gaining his first two boys and putting his own body through his own wishes John’s wardrobe went through a small change. With more fitting clothes, more prouder clothes the older man took a step into a more bold sense of style. It was subtle but enough to anyone that would have watched him in any significant way.

The cuts were a little bit tighter, the fit was a little bit better. Wishing your own body back to its peak of fitness had its perks now he'd be able to go toe to toe with the best of the young officers. Not to mention the wishes he had for his own sex.

One of which he was showing off to the Deputy. Of course the Sheriff was already proud of his size, but a little more never hurt but that wasn’t the only thing that changed. After all, now when he had three hungry boys that begged to be filled with cum almost every hour of the day a little bit of help in that department was only logical.

But now he was even prouder of it knowing that all the power he could want was his.

“Come on John. There’s no need to be shy about it. The guys in our unit would compare all the time. Surely you were the same.” Jordan asked looking down at the other’s bulge the question of how big the man was starting to wave in his mind. The mental shots of his boss's body , mainly of his cock, but his body just posing in front of him.

“You get a different view as you get older, Parrish. Besides, compared to you young ones now I’m probably not worth the second glance.” John teased through self deprecating humour wanting to see how the Deputy responded.

“That’s nonsense, you’re in good shape.” Jordan reached out pointing at the older man’s body, his eyes and fingers dancing down the man’s chest until they were gaining on his hips. “You’ve got good definition here.” His fingers brushed past the other’s ribs all so he could quickly move next. In a flash the Deputy reached down, grabbing at John’s underwear he pulled them away in a swift motion. Dropping to his knees Parrish released the Sheriff’s cock from its prison and exposed him in an instant.

Down at the new height Jordan was at the perfect eye level to see all of the man’s crotch in its glory. Accidentally staring at it Jordan’s eyes looked at it almost as if he were studying it but in truth it was because he felt drawn to it.

“Jordan?” John called out to him trying to see if he could get the other’s attention. Of course, he knew what was happening, but he still decided to be safe. This, just like everything else that had happened, had all been according to the man’s plans, his wishes.

Distracting Jordan with his cock he knew that the seeds that he had been planting were all coming to fruition now.

A moment after John called out to him Jordan finally reacted, shaking his head getting himself out of his trance for a moment. “Sorry, just.. Never seen one like yours, and I saw a lot in the tents.” Parrish laughed it off, still unable to pull his eyes away.

“It’s alrig--”��

“It’s just so big… so smooth….” The longer Jordan looked the deeper his fascination grew, forming until it started to become an obsession. “So perfect…. It even smells so.….” Pushing forward Jordan buried his face into the crook of the man’s crotch. His nose pushed up against the trimmed pubes until he was able to rub his face against it. Unable to pull himself away from the desire that was building up in him Jordan would have been blind sided if he had noticed it but instead the more he gave into it the more it would cement itself in his head.

“Uh… Jor-” Before John could probe the other at what he was thinking the deputy was pulling away from his musk only to enable his next thought.

Once his face had been freed from inhaling his boss’ musk he opened his eyes, his pupils blown with lust taking in the sight before him. “I wonder what it tastes like..” Before Jordan even had a chance to blink the Deputy was already closing in with an open mouth in tow taking the soft tip into his mouth.

Seeing the younger’s changed self growing stronger John smirked reaching down he rubbed at Parrish’s scalp. Guiding him with a gentle touch as his soft cock started to take up Jordan’s mouth, slowly starting to react to the wet tongue that was lapping at his skin. “That’s it, taste Daddy’s cock, let Daddy feed you.”

Looking up with eager eyes Jordan showed off the new sense of self he was getting. ‘Sheriff…John…Daddy… ‘ The names flowed through his head, each one of them making more sense than the rest until he was saying them out loud. “Dad…. Daddy..” Saying the name aloud was the final push it needed. Shining brightly in his eyes Jordan’s gaze fell on the coin as it took root.

“That’s right. I’m Daddy, and you’re my boy, and you have some brothers waiting for us back at home. But you’ll meet them after this weekend. Right now. Daddy needs to take care of his new boy.”

Brushing Jordan’s hair back he pushed the kneeling Deputy to the side and made his way to the tub that had now filled and was ready.

“Let’s test out the pool.”

Jordan rose to his feet in a hurry and joined his Daddy in the tub. Sitting down beside him he looked at the man while the changes started to settle in his body, the heat of the tub making him relax even more against the heat.

“Daddy?” Pressing his body against John’s side, Jordan got as close as he could like that. His hand pressed on the man’s chest. Starting its path down his abs towards the cock he gripped it firmly giving him some assured strokes. “Can I taste your cock again?”

“That depends, baby. Why don’t you come sit in Daddy’s lap and answer some questions first..” He leaned back to give Jordan the room to settle against him. Taking the opportunity Jordan slid his body over John’s lap and planted himself firmly against him. It was only a moment of adjusting before their bodies were slotted against each other, Jordan’s ass on top of the man’s cock feeling the shaft between his cheeks.

“I’m here Daddy.” Jordan said almost gleefully, taking his seat and smiling. His hands began to rub against John’s body, truly feeling him and getting to know his Daddy’s body.

“You said that you’ve compared with the other officers in your troop, did you do any more than that?” Taking Jordan’s chin in his fingers John lifted it gently so that their eyes could share the gaze. Staring at each other as it deepened their bond.

“No Daddy, we only just compared our sizes. But sometimes we would prank each other, wake someone up with a cock slap to the face.” The memories made him chuckle, his hands not stopping as he squeezed along his chest.

“So you’ve never experimented with other men before?” His voice pushed with a slight authority.

“Not during my service… but I did jerk off one of my friends in school.”

“That's all?”

“I didn’t really feel like it was for me.. But there’s just something about Daddy’s that draws me to it.” He admitted eyes looking earnestly back at the man. Wide and soft showing no hesitancy for it now.

Taking his hands lower, John began his own exploration of the other’s body. “That’s because Daddy is the best, and you know it, but I’m going to show you why today.”

“Yes Daddy.”

The hands traveled lower and lower, trailing down his abs and around to reach Jordan’s ass. Holding the cheeks in his hands John groped at them lightly enough to only ripple gently in the water.

Gasping at the new sensation Jordan glanced over his shoulder. He had had his ass slapped and hit in jest before but John’s hands massaging him and playing with his ass was something new entirely. Moaning softly the Deputy arched his back and pushed his ass into the boss’ hands filling them up even more.

Smoothly their dance continued, only punctuated by the sound of moving water and soft moans of pleasure. John’s eyes took in every tick and movement that he pulled from the Deputy. Each little bit as if he were playing him like an instrument. His fingers flexed and pushed along his backside, sneaking closer and closer to the virgin hole.

Jordan’s hands following his own song down John’s body, over his abs and back again. With his ass seated over the man’s crotch he rocked slowly in place using his cheeks to give back the little that he could. He knew that it was working when he heard the Sheriff, his Daddy, moan. With his intuition proving to be correct the new boy started to ride back more intently. Scooping his hips downward making every moment of contact that he could. Soon enough he could feel his Daddy’s cock growing hard under him, spreading his cheeks wider. Each swing of his hips alternated the contact between John’s cock and his fingers sliding against his hole making his moans grow.

“Daddy…” Jordan warned with a slight wave in his voice. It wasn’t one of hesitancy but filled with pleasure and charged with lust. With just the little teasing that they had been doing in the tub Jordan felt as if it were shaking him from his head to his toes.

“I know Baby Boy, but we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Hitting Jordan’s ass, John started to push the other off of his lap giving himself the room to stand. Once he was freed he slipped backward and sat on the edge of the tub with his hard cock on display. Standing out and proud from the attention that it had been getting and the anticipation of claiming the new boy.

Kneeling with his lower half in the water Jordan was shocked at the man’s exposed cock. “It’s so big..” Needing to use both hands to cover a majority of the man’s cock he grew closer and closer to it with an open mouth ready to take him again. Jordan stuck his tongue out searching for the man’s taste past the water that was dripping off of them.

Jordan’s tongue swiped back and forth taking him past his lips and down his throat all in the effort to taste him. The moment the taste started to emerge Jodan moaned loudly up at the man in disbelief that he waited so long to experience this. With the new taste filling his senses Jordan started to enthusiastically worship at his Daddy’s cock.

Thinking about what he had liked done to his cock during a blowjob Jordan mimicked that and hoped that he was doing his Daddy proud. Soon light licks turned into steady swipes, gentle suckling turned into assured sucking. Jordan’s eyes were now shut, bobbing back and forth; he carefully took the man’s cock deeper and deeper until he met an unfamiliar resistance.

There was something new hitting at the back of his throat, something that the Deputy had never felt there before and it wasn’t comfortable. But still determined to push through it, Jordan gagged and choked on the thick cock forcing himself to his limits, his mouth seeping down the length.

A strong hand trailed down his back. Jordan’s body tingled, like pins and needles filling his skin, it made him shudder.

“That’s it baby, just keep working Daddy’s cock.” John guided his hand further down the male’s body. Now that he had Jordan, why wait for more. His hand went further and further, leaning over John started to reach for Jordan’s ass. Pushing his prelicked fingers against the tight hole he started to tease it for what was to come.

A deep sound erupted from Jordan’s throat, muffled only by the cock in his mouth. He could feel the fingers against his virgin hole and it felt good. Mind blowing. Spurring Jordan on even further it felt like the jolts of having his ass played with revitalised him, more than giving him energy it made him long for more. Jordan pushed his legs further apart, spreading cheeks to let the fingers touch him more.

With a grin John moved. Shuffling in closer to Jordan’s head he placed one hand behind the male’s head to hold him steady as he forced his cock deeper and leaned over the Deputies’ body to push his fingers against the rim.

“You like that, don’t you?” John’s fingers pushed deeper slowly, spreading Jordan’s hole open in a way that he had never tried before. Opening and closing his fingers against the tight muscle the Sheriff started to massage and work it open.

Nodding along with his words Jordan’s focus started to waver. Dipping back and forth between his focus on the Daddy's tasty cock and the new feeling he got from Daddy’s fingers on his ass, Jordan started to lose track of what he was doing.

Apparently becoming too lax for the older man Jordan’s sense came back to him when he felt the Sheriff start to fuck his mouth. The leaking cock slid back and forth with power. Spreading his throat, stretching his jaw down. John’s hold on his head meant that he had no place to escape but deeper, so he did it.

Shoving his head into the harsh thrusts he could feel all of his muscles tightening. Gagging and sputtering with tears falling down his face Jordan gasped for air but also his body told him that his Daddy was more important.

Surrounded by the sounds and smell of their sex John’s grunting signled the nearing ending of their first journey. Each of his thrusts splashed the water under them. Where John held Jordan’s head was at the perfect height for the waves to hit his face as well. Truly using the Deputy’s through like a toy John fucked and bashed past the other’s reflexes.

“Take it boy.” John growled. His balls pulled up with a body filling shudder. Taking him over the edge John’s hot cum poured deep, filling him up with his very first batch of John’s charged load. Altered by his wishes John’s cum was strong, heavy, thick and most importantly there was a lot of it. Pulsing full of like John’s cock stayed hard as he threw his head back in ecstasy, there was nothing like claiming a new boy.

Through his orgasm John groaned deeply. Rocking in place the older man had to use every last bit of his will to stop himself from filling up Jordan too much. Wanting to save the bulk of his load for later John gritted his teeth in concentration as managed to hold back from filling Jordan to the brim.

Pulling away the older man freed his cock but more importantly Jordan’s throat.

Sputtering and coughing for air the Deputy grasped at the side of the bath looking for his composure. With a white knuckle grip Jordan held himself up. He looked up at John with a messy face, spit and a little bit of cum splattered over his face. He smiled through his messy recovery, beaming with pride at the man.

“Now it’s time for the next part.” John patted at Jordan’s ass, one of his hands rubbing the mess against his lips. “Would you like that baby?”

“Yes Daddy.” Jordan could put together the pieces to know what was coming next. He knew that even though he had never done it before it would be the best thing in his life.

“Good, now let’s go to bed. Your first time should be special.” John smirked as each of the pieces started to line up and fall into place with ease.

With a quick flash the two dried off, getting out of the tub to make the next stage come as quickly as possible.

Moving both to the bed Jordan laid on his back. Spreading his legs he lifted them up and exposed his hole to the man. He looked at him eagerly holding his legs up in place.

“Don’t worry Jordan, it won’t hurt.” John approached his Deputy with a smirk. His cock still hard and ready to do the deed.

“I trust you John, it’ll only feel good.” He answered happily, anxious only for the pleasure that he knew was going to come.

“Then let’s make you feel good.” Now John’s cock was pushing tentatively at his hole. Teasing him with only one thing in mind, claiming his prize. After giving Jordan a few test thrusts John could tell by how the hole gave in that the Deputy was ready.

Yelping out Jordan’s eyes opened wide as the thick cock pushed into his virgin hole penetrating him for the first time ever. “O… ooooooooo”

Jordan’s cries were cries of blinding pleasure instead of pain. Spreading his pink hole like butter, one of John’s overarching wishes started to take effect. Taking away any of Jordan’s natural resistance to taking a big cock up his ass meant all that was left was bliss. But that wasn’t all. Like Daddy’s other boys Jordan’s body also started to go through more changes. His cheeks, already round, became cakey and thick growing until his they were like an extension of his hole giving more for the older man to fuck.

Gasp aloud Jordan eyes began to flutter. A floating feeling started to take over his body. Rocking back and forth he didn’t wait to feel the heavy cock hollowing out his insides. “Ooo.. Daddy… that feels so good…”

By now John’s cock was pushing deeper with ease, Jordan’s rocking only helping him open the boy up faster. “That’s it boy, push back on Daddy’s cock, relax into it baby.”

Filled to the brim with the man’s cock Jordan drooled, surrendering himself to the thick girth. Taking him over it introduced him to a brand new world that he had never even thought about and it rocked him to his core.

“Oh please Daddy, give me more of your cock.” Jordan whimpered out to the man as he begged to feel more than just the static size of his cock in him. His rocking stopped by the man’s hips acting as a barrier.

After their little session in the tub John was all too ready to break in his new Deputy. His plan to single the male out and take him for his own was working a treat. From above John started to lean down, pushing Jordan’s legs back leaving them in a mating press. Taking Jordan’s legs in his own hands like reigns John started his trusts.

Sliding his cock back and forth through Jordan’s newly sensitive hole John enjoyed the feeling of his cock taking the male’s hole and so did Jordan.

With their position pushing the cock deep into his body his eye crossed and rolled back. Drooling and letting out cries of pleasure. Through those same unfocused eyes he could see the faint bump of the cock pushing up against his tightened body. Plunging deep into him with balls slapping against his ass the man’s cock rearranged his guts and forcefully made his space.

Being able to heal any of the damage that his Daddy could do to his body didn’t mean that Jordan didn’t feel it. In fact, now, he felt it more. Every moment that the man was ruining his hole, thrusting deep in him and it felt right. His body was the cushion between the man and the bed taking all of the strength behind his thrusts going straight at his hole.

“Cum for me.” John grunted.

At the man’s order Jordan’s eyes fell wide open, suddenly acutely aware of his rock hard cock Jordan felt the all too familiar feeling of his orgasm. Only this orgasm was different. Instead of feeling the pleasure on his cock from his hands all the pleasure he felt was all over and it all came from his ass. From his Daddy.

Gripping tighter around the other’s cock and making his body feel even better Jordan screamed through his orgasm, calling out for his Daddy’s cock. “Ohh Dadddyyy!” His load shot between them, coating their bodies and flying around them as John didn’t stop. His thrusts didn’t let up, his fucking of his new boy went on and on. But as soon as his first was over the next came felt like it was flooding through him already.

The onslaught on Jordan’s ass continued. A pro by now John was able to balance his power and speed while making sure he didn’t cum too early and for him that was anytime that he didn’t want to.

Fucking Jordan through his first John quickly caused the second, then the third, then his forth. Each one rolling after the other without any breaks. His cock was milked each time until it was a constant stream.

Sweat and cum soaked into the bed around them. Splashing from their wet bodies the sweat accentuated the rhythmic slapping that had begun to speed up. “You like Daddy’s cock. But now it’s time to become one of Daddy’s boys.” Pounding down John smirked while Jordan smiled widely and dumbly as he felt his hole getting even better and better. Their thrusts all culminated finally in a harsh slam from the top. Forcing himself as deep as he could go, nestling his cock all the way to the root he growled loudly. His twitching cock began to fill up the other’s hole, spreading him deep and giving Jordan his first taste of being bred, completing his giving into Daddy’s boy.

Spilling out the sides of his hole he was filled to the brim and beyond. Gasping through the ride of his life Jordan smiled widely and dumbly his body lay back in the afterglow of sex. Pulling his heavy cock out from the tight hole John leaned back. His cock was messy and covered in cum but it wasn’t anything compared to the aftermath on Jordan’s once virgin hole.

Sticky and covered in thick cum the boy’s hole winked and gaped from how his Daddy had just used his hole. With cum leaking from his messy body Jordan lay there panting, his fingers snaked between his new cheeks to explore his new ass moaning at the lingering pleasure.

“That’s it baby.” John said as he admired his own work. The wet noises squished from beneath him as each wink caused Jordan’s hole to heal more until it was trapping the man’s load inside him, rounding his stomach a little bit as if he had eaten a full meal.

Knock. Knock.

Turning his head back to the door John patted at Jordan’s filled cheeks. “You go back to the bath and get cleaned up, we still have a lot more to teach you baby boy.” He smiled. Leaving Jordan to go back into the bathroom John went to answer the door. Grabbing a towel the Sheriff tied the small towel around his waist leaving his hard cock showing against the thick fabric while he opened the door.

“Yes?”

“Congratulations Sir, this is the complimentary champagne that comes with our honeymoon suite.” The young staffer was fighting his eyes from looking down at the man’s obvious bulge. He thought if the towel had even been an inch away the other’s cock would be on show.

“Thank you.” John could feel the eyes on him and even if he hadn’t he could see the other’s face betraying him. “Could I also get the sheets changed? We ended up making a bit of a mess.” The older man let out a chuckle moving his bulge with his free hand he pointed at the messy bed.

“Certainly… uh.. Do you need anything else?” He asked stepping into the room and moving over to the press and taking out the clean sheets so that he could change them.

“No that will be all, just let yourself out once you’re done.” John walked away from the man and into the bathroom that was opposite the bed. Dropping the towel to the floor on the way he carried the chilled champagne with him. “Come over here baby, Daddy’s cock is back.”

That was the last thing the hotel worker heard before all he could hear was the cries of Jordan’s voice mixing with the unmistakable sounds of sex in the tub. Trying to focus on the task at hand the worker couldn’t escape the blush the entire time he worked.

When John heard the door close leaving them alone again he smirked down at the male, his hand reaching around and holding at Jordan’s rounding stomach. With each of his thrusts the man could feel the cum inside him.

“Please.. Oh Daddy… Breed me” Jordan cried out begging for more cum, a need in him wanting to be as full as possible with his Daddy’s seed.

“We’ve got all weekend baby.” The man smiled down at the other, his excitement for the rest of the trip beginning to rise even further ready for all the power he was about to feel.

#prompts #scribbles #story sunday #sheriff #Jordan #anonymous #answered

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elldell1204 · 4 years

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I Sing for Love - Jay Halstead x Reader

fofisstilinski: hi, i would like a jay halstead with prompts 3 - “Can you just shut your mouth?”, 60 - “But I want to hear you sing.”, 63 - “I think I love you.”, please, thanks

Thank you for this! ❤️ I didn’t reblog @darkdisrepair ’s prompt list to be getting them, but they kindly let me use them so definitely go and check them out. Their Upstead fics are like no other! They’re genuinely amazing. 😘 Anyways, I really loved writing this one. I did alter some of the prompts slightly to make them work in the sentence, by the way. Also, I’ve been playing The Last of Us II recently, and this fic was partially inspired by the scene of Ellie playing the guitar in the music store. I’ve linked it down below so you can listen to the song I mean, as it’s really beautiful and thought it’d fit nicely here. I hope you like it, even if it is a little long-winded. Enjoy! 😊

Warning: couple swear words, may make you cry :( sorry!

wc - 2,783

Click here for the song

Admiring the pile of untouched boxes in the otherwise empty corner of the living room, you took a moment to finally let it sink in. ‘I’m moving in with Jay.’ It was a seemingly simple event to anyone else, but for you and your best friend, it was a huge step forward in your hopefully long life together. Because you knew this was it. You had shared your heart, your mind, your soul with Jay Halstead, a feat you had never even come close to achieving with any of your other boyfriends, not that there were many.

It was scarily similar how alike you two were, yet at the same time, you were totally different. You were both quick-witted, divergent thinkers, aware of the true horrors of the world but in different lights. He had first discovered that when his father gave him ‘tough love’ as a child, a trait he vowed never to adopt. Next was when he saw the travesty that is war; tragic losses of friends as their lives are ripped from your hands by beings you could swear weren’t human, the methods of finding information that haunted you in the form of your worst nightmares, the survivor’s guilt that plagued your everyday when you came home to the widows of the men you fought so hard to save, but unfortunately it wasn’t hard enough. It was a miracle he was able to pull himself out of that hole, and still, he hasn’t fully. But with your help and Hailey’s, he’s surviving. Knowing him now, you weren’t surprised that Jay went into the police force after his active duty. Some say that Chicago is a warzone in itself, but he knew that he could endure this one. After all, the heart he possesses wouldn’t have allowed him to do something with his life that didn’t help others. One of the many reasons why you loved him. Every day he sees the scum of the world, but when he manages to help someone, it reminds him of why he does it. And he knows when he comes home to you, he’s safe. You both know that. Because you have each other, and you protect one another, physically and mentally.

You weren’t on the front lines like Jay was, but still you saw the suffering and agony the world withstands. You were an ASA, a dream you had since you were a child. From the age of three you were better at arguments than any other child on the playground, something your dad used to tease you lovingly for your whole childhood. He told you to “chase your dreams until they become reality, because you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t”. You had asked him why he seemed so forlorn when he said the last part, sat on your bed one night after he’d read you your story. That was when he told you about his dream of becoming a singer, an almost unachievable dream, but one he worked so damn hard for. You asked what happened, and he relayed how his mother became troubled with drinking and drugs after his father left, and so he, being the eldest child, had to work to provide for the family, and so his dream stayed a dream.

You remember saying “But, Daddy, you can still be a singer. I can be your audience.”, and you can still see the smile that spread across his face at your words, the expression being etched into your memory ever since. That was the night he decided to make you his protégé, teaching you how to play guitar and singing with you. This went on for years, and by the time you were thirteen, you were both playing along together, serenading and smiling without a care in the world.

But it wasn’t long before your world crashed down around you. You were seventeen when you got the call, walking out of school one afternoon, with the biggest of your problems being a boring geography assignment, when your mother told you to get to the hospital instead of going straight home. She wouldn’t – more like couldn’t – tell you why over the phone, and as you rushed to Lakeshore Memorial Hospital, your mind was racing with possibilities.

Your dad had collapsed at work, luckily not severely injured, but after running further tests, it was discovered he had stage four lung cancer, and there was nothing they could do. You barely left the hospital the next few weeks, sitting by your father’s bedside as he drifted in and out of consciousness, coughing one minute and throwing up the next. He managed to stay awake a few hours a day at the start, holding your hand and telling you he loved you, retelling stories from his childhood and yours. But when his lungs got weaker, he asked you to bring in your guitar and sing to him, seeing as he couldn’t do it himself. “Music makes me almost as happy as you do, my darling.”

So you did. You sang until your voice was hoarse, until you fell asleep mid-verse, until your fingers and thumbs were blistered. Your mother sat like a mannequin in the chair on the other side of his bed, holding his hand, treasuring the feeling. The feeling of the man you lost too soon.

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. Everything that I’ve found here, I’ve not found by myself.” You sang, tears pricking at your eyes. You looked up, gazing over at the weak form of your father. If it wasn’t for the machine hooked up to him that was beeping quietly but steadily, you may have thought he was already gone. He was that debilitated, with his limbs laid straight, outlining his body, his eyes closed and his lips, that seemed paler than ever before, the only landmark in the vast ocean of ghastly white that had replaced the face once full of life and laughter.

You laid your guitar back in its case before moving closer to him, intertwining your fingers with his, scared at how cold they felt already. You looked over at your mother. She was silently crying, her eyes rimmed red and streaks traced down her cheeks, and she nodded her head at you.

You sniffed, letting the tears that stung your eyes fall as you stood, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your father’s forehead.

“It’s okay, Dad.” You whispered. “You can go now. Go be at peace. I love you.”

And after a deep breath, you turned to the doctor that stood at the doorway. “You can take him off life support now.”

You let the tear flow down your cheek for a few seconds before you wiped it away. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the sadness. You had a job to do.

You had officially moved in with Jay a few weeks ago now, but due to your busy lives, the only things you had unpacked were the bare necessities, most of which were already dotted around your shared apartment.

It still sounds weird to refer to Jay’s apartment as your own. You practically lived here before he asked you, anyways, seeing as yours was a lot smaller, in a worse neighbourhood and had a lot of noisy neighbours. It was practically the complete opposite to Jay’s, his being a two-bedroom condo with sweet Mrs Elizabeth Bailey next door who you often helped out by carrying her groceries or fixing a dodgy cupboard door. She was like a great aunt to you both, inviting you round for dinner or baking you some cookies every so often. Many a time had she told you about her late husband, Tommy, and their stories from their lives together. Both you and Jay loved to hear the tales of their adventures, and you were saddened that you never got to meet him. One night, you sat close together on Lizzie’s couch, Jay’s arm wrapped around your waist as you leant into his chest, admiring a photo album she had passed to you as she recalled the memories linked to each image from her armchair. She had surprised you when she suddenly said, “You two remind me of Tommy and I; hopelessly in love.” You looked up and smiled at her, a twinkle in her eye as she remembered her husband, and you felt Jay pull you just that little bit closer.

It was also that night, when you both returned to his apartment, that he asked you to move in with him.

And now you were rummaging through your stuff that was packed into boxes, pretty much half of your life stuffed neatly into them. Looking through each one, you realised how little each of the material items mattered to you now that you knew Jay. Apart from the photos of friends and family, the odd keepsake you’d collected over the years and meaningful gifts from various birthdays and Christmases, it was all just junk. At least you thought so until you spotted your guitar case tucked away into the corner.

You took a deep breath before reaching over and picking it up, getting to your feet as you carried the case over to the couch. You sat down slowly, your heartrate picking up even with your meticulously controlled breaths. You gently laid it down in front of you and opened it, lifting the lid like it would shatter if you went too fast. You hadn’t opened it in years, not since you closed it at the hospital on that horrible day. A droplet landed on the smooth mahogany, one that came from your eyes. It took you a while before you wiped it away, unsure if you were strong enough to touch the instrument without breaking down before it.

‘Pull yourself together, Y/N, it’s been ten years’ you thought. And despite telling yourself that you had mostly moved past your father’s death, trying to see the light from it instead of the darkness, you still had moments where you were majorly overcome with grief. But you knew you could do this. You had to. He would have wanted you to.

So you picked it up. You examined it, not that there would be any new marks or scratches with it being shut off from the world for a decade, and then laid it on your knee like a baby, your hands assuming the positions that were like second nature to you, like another language. And you strummed the strings. They were horribly out of tune, so you let out a sodden laugh at the sound before tuning it to perfection.

Now all you had to do was play. You had time before Jay got home, so that wasn’t stopping you. What was is the thought of playing the guitar your dad bought you, the guitar your dad taught you to play, the guitar that you played to him and with him as you sang together. You knew he wouldn’t want you to stop playing, but you couldn’t bear the thought of playing it without him there to listen.

So you closed your eyes and imagined he was there with you, listening and smiling, as your fingers found the first chord on the neck of the guitar and you played it. Then the next. And the next. And you were doing it. You were playing the song. Now all you had to do was sing. You saw your dad’s smile and you knew you could do it.

“If I ever were to lose you,

I’d surely lose myself.”

Then suddenly there was a loud smash of glass on the floor behind you and you jumped, spinning around violently to see Jay stood in the doorway over some shattered glass.

“What the hell, Jay?! You scared the shit outta me.” You shouted, a hand over your racing heart.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just wanted to hear you sing.” He smiled sympathetically, walking a little further in to lean against the chest of drawers in the corner.

“Shut your mouth. Like hell you did. You just wanted something to make fun of me for.” You huffed, frowning, as you moved to put away your guitar. You could feel the unjustifiable anger bubbling deep inside you at him hearing you, allowing yourself to be so careless as to let him in the first place.

“What? No, of course not. It was really beautiful, and I’ve never really heard you sing before.” He said cautiously as he came to sit beside you on the couch, taking a hold of your hands to stop you putting away the guitar. He could tell you were annoyed, and though he wasn’t sure why, he knew to tread carefully, as he seemingly had hit a nerve.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do it around other people, at least not since I was younger.” You said softly, feeling guilty for shouting at him.

“With your dad?” He asked. He knew all about the story with your father, minus the part where you sang to him before he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to relive that if you didn’t have to. But now you did have to. You couldn’t let Jay be in the dark about it any longer. All he had ever been was supporting and caring to you, and you felt ready to let him in fully.

“Yeah.” You whispered, not trusting your voice. You shuffled in closer to him, and he let go of your left hand to wrap his arm around you, and then you took a deep breath. “I, erm, haven’t played my guitar since the day my dad died. He asked me to play it to him whilst he was in hospital, because he couldn’t do it himself like before he got sick. And on his last day, I played him that song you just heard; it was one of his favourites. Not that he was conscious. He’d been knocked out cold with meds for days by then. After, we said goodbye and took him off life support. And I could never bring myself to play my guitar since.”

Silence followed, allowing him to process and you to recover. He kept rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, showing you support without using his words.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “But wouldn’t he want you to keep playing? For him?”

“He would, that’s why I’m trying now.” You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “He’d have liked you, y’know? He really would.”

“I’m sure the feeling would be mutual.” He returned your smile.

Every day he reminded you of the wonderful man he is; caring, funny, kind, smart. But he also showed you he loved you, that he trusted you. And so you did the same.

You sat up, retrieving your guitar and laying it on your lap once more. You glanced over to him and smiled.

“This was also one of his favourites.” You told him, and then you started to play.

“Talking away,

I don’t know what,

I’m to say I’ll say it anyway,

Todays another day to find you.

Shying away,

I’ll be coming for your love okay.

Take on me,

Take me on.

I’ll be gone,

In a day or two.

Needless to say,

I'm odds and ends,

But I'll be stumbling away,

Slowly learning that life is okay.

Say after me,

It's no better to be safe than sorry.

Take on me,

Take me on,

I'll be gone,

In a day or two,

In a day or two.”

When you finished, you sighed deeply, a half-sad, half-loving smile spreading across your face as you turned towards Jay. He was sat in an awestruck daze, smiling back at you as you put your guitar away in the case. When you sat back up, he shifted closer to you, gently taking your cheek in his palm as he gazed into your eyes, running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“I think I love you.” He murmurs.

You scoff jokingly and roll your eyes teasingly. “Well, you better bloody love me, Halstead. We’ve moved in together.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his warm breath brush over your cheek.

“I do. I love you. And I’ll keep saying it, even when you’re sick of hearing it.”

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it, Jay, because I love you too.” You whispered, smirking as you leaned in to kiss him. He met your lips with his, kissing you lovingly, assuring that you knew you were it for him, as he was it for you.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fluff #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead fanfiction

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luthienebonyx · 3 years

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First Lines Meme

Tagged by @nightreaderenigma - thanks!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Note: I’ve noted the fandom for stories other than JB.

1. "How much is he paying you?" Sansa asks bluntly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. (Doubt Truth to be a Liar, Jaime/Brienne)

2. The small, knowing smile that young Melbury sends Ferdy one night at Limmer's is almost nothing, but Gil notices. (Phthonos, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy)

3. Hero did not mean to intrude on Gil's and Ferdy's privacy. (Euclidean Geometry, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero)

4. The marriage of George, Lord Wrotham, and Miss Isabella Milborne was widely regarded as the wedding of the Season, though it was not nearly so illustrious a match as might have been expected for a young lady known far and wide—in the gentleman's clubs at least—as the Incomparable. (That Greek Thing, Friday’s Child - Georgette Heyer, Gil/Ferdy, Sherry/Hero, George/Isabella)

5. It is said that the storyteller shapes the story, but I have found it equally true that the story is shaped by its intended audience. (Twelve Days, The Queen’s Thief - Megan Whalen Turner, Kamet/Costis)

6. It takes Brienne less than thirty seconds to decide that she doesn't like Jaime Lannister. (History Never Repeats, Jaime/Brienne)

7. Brienne hesitated before pressing the intercom button. (The Personal Touch, Jaime/Brienne)

8. Rodney shivers as the puddlejumper draws near the surface. (Siberia, Stargate Atlantis, John/Rodney)

9. Brienne was quiet as the plane took off, looking out the window as the Gold Coast fell away below them, and they climbed steadily until they'd reached cruising altitude. (The Last Day of Christmas, Jaime/Brienne)

10. They probably wouldn't have noticed the tent if Addam hadn't staggered out of the Gravitron and been noisily sick all over Jaime's trainers. (A Doom Unescaped, Jaime/Brienne)

11. The London Season has been the focus of all well-connected and ambitious British Mamas—as well as rather less well-connected but even more ambitious British Mamas—of hopeful daughters since the Eighteenth Century. (An Ever-fixed Mark, A Countess Below Stairs aka The Secret Countess - Eva Ibbotson, Ollie/Peter)

12. It surprised Brienne how quickly she'd become used to the idea of summer in December. (On the first day of Christmas (my true love gave to me), Jaime/Brienne)

13. Sansa doesn’t understand. (Life’s Not a Song, Jaime/Brienne)

14. Brienne awakes with a shiver, not sure where she is or what's going on, but instantly awake like the soldier she still feels herself to be. (Beloved, Jaime/Brienne)

15. The spring that follows the winter-that-might-have-lasted-forever is fleeting, and all too soon they're in the midst of an almost unlooked for summer that feels not quite real. (Is this the way love’s supposed to be?, Jaime/Brienne)

16. They arrive on Tarth after one of the shortest and most violent spring storms in living memory. (Walking in the Sun Once More, Jaime/Brienne)

17. Brienne didn't even wait until Jaime had finished closing the bedroom door behind them. (After Party, Jaime/Brienne)

18. Jaime awoke to the familiar sensation of a head pillowed against his chest. (Interlude, in Sunshine, Jaime/Brienne)

19. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," Brienne said, scanning the shelves with a look in her eye that was getting wilder by the second. (The Night Before the Night Before Christmas (aka the Long Night), Jaime/Brienne)

20. Brienne awoke slowly, disoriented, and yet not. (Knights and Knaves, Jaime/Brienne)

Patterns: Well, the main one is that I like to open with a statement, rather than more general description or dialogue, which is something I was already aware of. Two out of twenty start with dialogue, which feels about the right ratio for my fic more generally.

2, 3 and 4 (which are a short series starting with the story I wrote for Yuletide last year) and also 5 and 11 are for book fandoms, so I was trying to capture the canon style with them. This means that they’re less obviously ‘me’ than the others. I seem to tend more naturally towards shorter opening lines than the sort of wordiness that you see in 4 and 11.

Three of these describe people waking up and... yeah, guilty as charged. I know they’re not the only stories I’ve started with that particular gambit.

Apart from that, the only other thing of note is that 9, 12, 18, 19 & 20 are all from my Aussie coffee ‘verse, and 13, 14, 15 & 16 are all from my After Everything canon divergence AU series - so they’re not ‘real’ beginnings in the way the stand alones are.

Oh, and one more thing: I’ve included 8 because it’s among the 20 most recent stories I’ve posted on AO3, but I actually wrote it back in 2005. It’s interesting to note how easily it fits in with the more recent stuff. I think it’s pretty clear that while my writing may have changed in some ways over the years, my thought processes haven’t changed much at all.

Favourite: While 10 makes me grin (it’s a prologue in which Jaime and Addam are aged 13, in case you’re wondering!) I think my favourites are 4 and 5, because I loved writing both of those stories so much and part of that was capturing the style and feel of the canon. I think that comes through clearly in both of those opening lines.

My favourite opening line of mine remains a story from long, long (about 20 years) ago though, which begins: There were people on the ceiling. I don’t think I will ever top that one.

Tagging: I think everyone I can think of has already been tagged, but if you haven’t been tagged and would like to do this meme, consider yourself tagged by me!

#memes #luthien's fanfic

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lambourngb · 4 years

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Nailing that Dynamic- Recs - Day 1

Day 1 for Creator’s Week, and I gotta say, this is my favorite fan event, mainly because it was the first one I participated last year. This little rec set is devoted to dynamics, divided into friendship, found family, and finally romantic (and yes, that’s Malex with me.)

We’ve had two seasons of this show, and while I can’t really relate to aliens or even the immigrant story, I do relate strongly to the stories behind friendship. I can say my appetite for fic with a good friendship dynamic will always be there.

Will You Be My Friend- Circle Yes or No (recs)

Finding You by @myrmidryad (122,000) - If by chance the canon from high school bums you out, this is the story to read. Gin writing malex is always a ‘no-brainer I’m gonna read it story’ for me, but what really set this epic apart was how beautifully Gin writes the friendship dynamics between Michael & Liz, and Michael & Max. It’s a canon-divergent story with no-murder of Rosa or the shed scene, where in order to avoid enlistment, Alex disappears from Roswell and joins the Max & Liz road trip with Michael in tow. They just need to fill that gap between high school and the opening of the dorms at UNM so they can start a life together. And fill it they do with this road trip. There were moments where I sobbed with how badly Michael needed this in canon and didn’t get it. It also made me like Max, so, yeah. Great writing and characterizations here.

Hit the Road by @bestillmyslashyheart - (7,100) - One of the brightest spots for me in season two was Rosa Ortecho, and one of the most frustrating parts of season two was the fact we didn’t get any interaction between her and Alex. *screams* At least I had a few crumbs of Rosa & Maria (not nearly enough!) but still. Where there’s a glaring gap in canon, thank god there’s fanfic. Marlo treats us to a delightful story written post season 1, but had some surprisingly psychic lines about Malex, number one how they don’t think they are good for one another. I really enjoyed what this story says about leaving- and honestly, the town of Roswell has so much pain tied to these characters, they should all take long road trips away from it.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex / @michaels-blackhat (5,600 ) - this one is set post-season 2, with all the complications of Michael deciding now wasn’t the right time for him and Alex, while also working on giving Maria the right space after their breakup. I think it’s pretty clear that Michael needs a friend he’s not related to and someone he hasn’t slept with - to provide him so low-stakes genuine company outside of the alien bullshit and love triangle dynamics. Christi does this beautifully through the eyes of an OC and the number of times I’ve read this story is like 10, and also, it’s inspired my current story about Michael going on dates.

and headin’ out singing our song by @stars-and-sunshine (4,100) post season 2, Alex and Michael head off on a road trip (okay, this is a trope I apparently like since I’ve recced three stories now, hahaha) after Alex’s car breaks down. There’s a careful space in this story, of two men building a friendship again. The roadtrip details are beautiful, but what stayed with me is a scene in the museum. That summer of 2008 had some ghosts to address.

If I Follow You Home, Will You Keep Me? found-family dynamics

When You’re Gone by @bestillmyslashyheart (8,200) - Before I tell you why I love this story, I want everyone to follow the next link and read this story about email and messages and grief in the digital age [trigger for cancer death] chat history by Rebecca Armendariz. (She also wrote a follow up called Timelines published by the Hairpin that talks about the memory function on facebook.) So back to the story, this is Rosa, opening her email 10 years after her death and reading the messages people sent her, thinking they were speaking into the void. Liz, Maria, Alex, Mimi and Arturo, all of them sending her notes, sometimes time passes without an email, then an event triggers that memory of Rosa not being there- and yeah, I found this whole thing to be so moving.

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me by @spaceskam - (4,400) this probably could have gone in the friendship side, but I feel like when you work in a high stakes place like a hospital, friends is a term that ends up being too light, and with the level of competition and stress it grows a bond like family... anyway, this is an AU where Michael and Kyle end up at the same hospital as competing interns but some elements of canon are still there.

still fixing all the cracks by @emma-arthur - (3,400) this is a pre-canon story, set when Alex is 14. He’s still a soft child, being tortured by his dad, and soaking up the attention from Liz, Rosa and Arturo when he breaks a glass and spirals. Heavy discussion of child abuse and homophobic abuse, but a really good exploration of the canon-neglected Liz & Alex friendship, plus with that paternal Arturo Ortecho in the mix...

Ophiuchus by @planetsam - (11,600) the other bright side of season 2 was the reveal of Walt Sanders as being not only Michael’s boss, but someone who knew his mother, knew what he was, and silently looked out for him...now of course I wish he had been more overt in doing this, but fanfic once again has fixed this canon-oversight. This is an incredible look through Walt’s eyes as he gets in over his head adopting an alien child, especially one who already had issues from previous foster placements. I could read a million words in this verse.

The Michael Sanders AU by @prouvaireafterdark (17,000 ) And speaking of great AUs where Michael is raised by Walt, I would be really amiss in not mentioning this one. It’s got hot high school Malex moments, emotional/hurt comfort for both Michael’s past foster placements but also the shit Alex is living with at home. I have to say “Honey if You Stay” is my favorite, just because of how badly I wanted to hug teen Alex...

and finally, no found family rec list could be complete without mentioning the epic series To Raise a Child (117,000 in progress) by @haloud and @maeglinthebold - season 2 put some hits on my headspace and emotional reserves, not to mention 2020 nonsense, so I’m dreadfully behind in commenting on this story. It’s just a huge emotional bandaid for me right now- it takes the idea of “what if the adults in Roswell actually looked out for their children (and other peoples children) and protected them from shit” and what would that change. Michael was found at 7 and then runs away to Roswell at 10, so yeah, humans have already done their best to convince him the world sucks and only finding his siblings matters... Jim Valenti steps in, knowing what he is, and finds him a place in Roswell with Arturo Ortecho. Anyway, everyone gets a turn- Jim, Mimi, the kids, etc in the story, it’s well rounded and fleshed out. Obviously being a malex person my favorite parts are the kid-friendship/this-is-just-a-crush moments in second story, where if you hadn’t lost your heart to Michael Ortecho by then, well, you’re a goner after that story.

I Could Build Your Heart A Home (malex recs)

time will lie down and be still by @islndgurl777 (29,600) the Practical Magic AU - which I loved but I have never seen the movie it’s based on lol... anyway, this story almost belonged up with my found family dynamic recs, because the story opens with Isobel and Michael being 7 and 8 years old alien siblings and left with Mimi Deluca to raise with her daughter Maria, because with their father recently dead, their mother would soon follow as a species level soulmate bond. Michael vows never to fall in love. Then there’s a beautiful friendship between Maria, Liz, Isobel and Michael as they grow up together that I just wanted to roll around in forever... However this is a Malex rec, so once Alex enters the story in high school and things go down similarly with Jesse, Michael is heartbroken, his soulmate (he thinks) is gone, vanished into the Air Force, and he spends the next 10 years helping Maria, going to school with Liz, and keeping in touch with Isobel. Until 2018 when Isobel finds out her perfect man was like them, an alien, and bad, and they are forced to cover up his murder. Then Alex comes to town. But the soulmate storyline is the winner here and I just re-read it again.

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @adamsparirsh (19,700) So this story tackles a dynamic that think will be the death-knell to the Alex/Forrest relationship- the weight of the alien secret and Alex’s responsibility gland and what that looks like to someone who wants to be in a relationship with him. The exclusion. But outside of that- there’s this part of Alex that isn’t willing to let anyone in that isn’t already there, and that’s Michael. I’m fucking weak for stories where these two assholes can’t connect with anyone but each other, and this one hits it. There’s also so many lovely friendship dynamics between everyone showing up for Alex- like Rosa, Isobel, Max, Maria. Obviously this is a Malex-is-endgame story, even though it starts Alex/Forrest.

it’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical (17,000) This was an interesting, now AU take on what if Maria/Michael dated at the same time as Alex/Forrest, and honestly, I thought basted on the season two spoilers that was where we were heading. I was gobsmacked by 2x13. Anyway, here’s a story that discusses the tension that would happen if there had been simultaneous dating going on…the parts where Michael sees Alex being open with someone other than him were very raw and true to how I would think he would feel. For 10 years he wanted that and didn’t get it, and so of course the problem was probably him?? Anyway, I enjoyed this a lot, and again felt robbed that we are heading into a new triangle for season 3.

untouched by @prouvaireafterdark (5,200) - okay, you know when you have an alien soulmate idea in your head and you want it to appear on the page, and then it does and it’s everything you wanted? That’s what happened to me when ‘Untouched’ appeared. Obviously it’s AU, but my reptile brain just loves the idea that Michael and Alex can’t get off with anyone else, and then that frustration builds into a sexy explosion... there’s also some communcation happening with these clowns. But seriously for 5,000 words, A LOT HAPPENS here and I loved every word.

Would you come home by @caitlesshea (1000) How great would have it been if season 2 had ended with Michael and Alex found a baby in a stasis pod instead of Beardy Jones? Like seriously, this short little fic healed so many of my wounds from season 2 that I couldn’t help but include it here. I would take 50,000 more words in this sadly AU take.

Hoarding you by @foramomentonly (1200) okay, so the rain smell, like 2x04 was low key my favorite episode of RNM ever, especially with Alex throwing that flirty line “It’s smells like rain, that’s what you smell like under the grease and bourbon’ and this author takes that line, and fucking murders me with the idea that Alex can’t move on because of that smell. And Michael is now his, and finds out about it. This is my head canon, okay? No one can talk me out of it.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference!

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #malex fic recs #roswell new mexico #worship our great authors in this fandom #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #I love everyone in this bar #i love this fandom

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epicstuckyficrecs · 4 years

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Weekly Recap | March 30-April 5

Out of self-isolation, woop woop! Also a first for me, there’s a podifc on the recap for the first time!

Complete

💙 [Podfic] If They Haven't Learned Your Name by quietnight/ @quietnighty (Post-WS | Podfic lenght: >10h | Not Rated): aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

in the heat of the moment by Deisderium/ @deisderium (ABO, Pre-TFA | 9K | Explicit): In which Steve presents very late as an omega. Bucky isn't supposed to go see him, but when has he ever done what he was supposed to do where Steve is concerned? (Part 1 of would smell as sweet)

💙 good on my own (needed me) by mcwho (Modern AU | 12K | Explicit): There are some mistakes that could be made by anybody. Anybody. Bucky taught high school pretty much his whole life, and that was fine, those were kids, and he knew all of them anyway, which meant there was very little chance of him accidentally fucking any of his students during an impulsive post-marital-breakdown Grindr hook-up. Which is exactly what he had done with Steve.or: bucky has not let steve rogers fuck him since his sophomore year (Part 1 of himbo-verse)

cheffing and sabotage by mcwho (Modern AU | 3K | Explicit): "So,” Steve says conversationally. “That’s a yes on the olive oil. For lube purposes.” Part 2 of himbo-verse

Brooklyn by togina/ @toli-a (Post-WS | 8,7K | Teen): "Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?" Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Poise and Rationality (Have Nothing to Do with Steve Rogers) by romanticalgirl (Canon-verse | 1K | Teen): Steve does something stupid.

💙 bullet in a gun (but in the end, my time will come) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid (Post-Endgame, Canon-divergent | 25K | Explicit): Post-Thanos, Bucky Barnes has happily settled into a life of peace and pining. That’s when alternate versions of the best friend he’s secretly in love with start showing up.

💙 Two Colors, White and Gold by Carelica (Canon-Divergent | 36K | Explicit): He’s here, he’s alive. His hand is on a tree.

Never go to bed alone when you have a library card by relenafanel/ @relenafanel (Library AU | 5K | Teen): Tall, blond hottie (in a sweater) was back, staring at the wall of new and popular titles with a thoughtful expression on his face. He came in every Tuesday night like clockwork, read through the summaries on the back of a handful of books with his profile turned just enough towards the front entrance that Bucky could see the slope of his nose and take joy in watching those arm muscles minutely flex as he shifted the book in his grasp.

💙 Like it’s the Only Thing I’ll Ever Do by howdoyousleep/ @howdoyousleep3 (ABO AU | 39K | Explicit): When Steve opens the door, Bucky feels like he’s been living in clouds for the past few days, maybe even his entire life. Steve is life, Steve is happiness, Steve is the sun. He has such a visceral reaction to seeing the Alpha that he feels his knees go weak, feels his body draw tight towards the other man, pulled in. Or big Alpha Steve moves into sweet little Omega Bucky’s apartment building and a roller-coaster build of a romance ensues.

lay all your love on me by chilibabie07 (Canon | 1,4K | Mature): Bucky wakes up to an empty bed and goes to look for Steve so he can be cuddled.

WIP

Baby, you could be the death of me by SinpaiCasanova (Werewolf Steve, ABO AU | 1/2 | 3K | Explicit): It’s strange for him to consider that fate or the universe–whatever is driving this compulsion, really–needs Bucky here for some reason or another, but he’s passed by these woods at least a thousand times before on his way into town, and each time his eyes drifted toward the trees, his heart would give a restless tug against his ribs like an excited dog on a leash. Eventually, the call became too much for him to ignore, and so here he is, surrendering himself to the woods and praying like hell that he doesn’t end up in the belly of a beast by daylight.

The Mnemosyne Project by onymousann (Post-WS | 11K | 4/? | Explicit): Someone’s trying to talk to the Winter Soldier. Steve intends to find out who. (Part 2 of ocean eyes)

💙 How to Fuck With (and Feed) Your Soulmate by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73 (Soulmate AU, Shrunkyclunks | 11/? | 65K | Explicit): It’s called the Grey Space; a patch of skin marking you as blessed and the first sign you have a soulmate. Steve Rogers didn’t have one when he crashed into the ice. But he did when he woke up in the future. The second sign is the Sense, a sharing of one the senses to help soulmates find each other. Steve’s Sense, taste, is rare, but he loves a challenge and a soulmate is a gift from the Fates. Except instead of a blessing, it’s a curse, since his soulmate is a dick. Bucky Barnes loves food and a homecooked meal is something he cherishes. When his Grey Space starts to itch, Bucky can’t help his excitement, since the Sense he and his soulmate share is taste. But not for long. Whoever he’s bound to has the blandest diet in the world, ignoring all Bucky’s messages. After weeks of putting up with tasteless food, Bucky decides to strike back.

Re-Read

We're All Stupid When We're Hurting by Taste_is_Sweet/ @taste-is-sweet (Post-WS | 8K | Teen): Bucky had completed missions while in more terrible pain. It was amazing what you could push through when the punishment for failure was so much worse. But he hadn't needed to do that for over a year now. He'd gotten used to not being in pain, remembered what it was like to be human. He knew no one would ever put him in the chair again. He knew he was safe here. He knew Tony could fix his arm without hurting him. Of course he did. But it didn't make a damn bit of difference to the terror that shook him like a dog at just the thought of sitting down and stretching his arm out for Tony to fuck with. Might as well stretch out his neck to have his throat slit. Hell, that'd be easier.

💙 we gotta let go of all of our ghosts by hitlikehammers (Post-WS | 8K | Mature): It’s just hard, really, if he’s honest: this time, more than the first, here in a new millennium, having found Bucky again against all odds, in a time where there was hope, where they could have been… Well. It’s just that it’s bad enough to come in second place to a Stark once in his lifetime. But twice might just be more than Steve can bear.

The thing that drives the wolves away by caughtinanocean/ @wintergaydar (Post-WS | 7,8K | Teen): The thing about Bucky these days is that, while he might be a semi-mythical assassin, he's also vulnerable—the kind of vulnerable that makes total strangers want to drape a blanket over his shoulders and take him to safety. The problem is, of course, that Bucky is already safe.

#stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #stucky fic rec #weekly recap

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fightforbetter-a · 3 years

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** headcanon based one-shot written by myself of the day Hayley’s adoptive parents kicked her out after she became a werewolf

** set 17th July 2004 (she’s thirteen years and one month old)

** triggers: child abandonment, body horror

Hayley kept her head down and her arms wrapped around herself, clasped onto each bicep, as she walked down the street, hyperaware of the sound of every footstep and the birds in the trees – were they louder or was she only imagining it? – and conscious of the eyes that might be watching her from the windows. It was really early in the morning, probably not even time for her dad to go to work, but there would still be people getting up right now and they would be taking interest in her wandering the streets with no shoes. There was the fear that they would recognize she had stolen the jeans and the purple t-shirt from someone’s washing line. But Hayley would not have walked home naked, as she had somehow found herself waking up as in the wooded area behind the neighbourhood.

Finally, she arrived at her house and hurriedly stepped onto the path, the gate creaking loudly – it grated at her ears, sharp and piercing, and why was it so noisy? – and all but running until she got to the porch. The door opened when she was on the last step, her dad appearing. Hayley’s feet seemed to sink into the porch step when she saw the look on his face. She had never seen that look on his face, especially not directed at her – it was horror and fear and something that looked like disgust.

He dropped her schoolbag on the porch and the thud was loud.

“Dad?” Hayley whispered as she grabbed onto the porch stair’s banister to keep herself balanced.

He swallowed, visibly, and she thought she could even hear his throat work. “You need to leave,” he said in a voice that began steady and strong but finished in a whisper to match hers.

It struck her solely in her chest and she felt the same kind of distress she had experienced last night, that tightness that had overtaken her skin even when it seemed like her skin was breaking apart.

Hayley moved forward, her last step onto the porch, and then halted when her dad stepped backwards into the house. Behind him, she could see her mom staring at her with the same expression, her hand held up to her mouth. Neither of them had changed out of their clothes from last night, she noted absently - her dad still in his work suit and her mom wearing the cardigan she had wrapped around Hayley yesterday afternoon when she had burst into tears about Joy while watching the television.

“Mom, I -” Hayley felt her voice choke up. “I – I don’t know what’s happened. What’s going on?”

Her mom shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You need to go,” her dad repeated, his tone somewhat firmer than it had been before. He stepped in front of her mom to block her from Hayley’s sight. “Now. You can’t stay here.”

No, no, this could not be happening. She could not be getting kicked out. This was – they were her family. They had promised to be her family when they adopted her four years ago. They promised.

“Dad, please, tell me what’s going on,” Hayley begged, a desperation rising up in her.

He looked over his shoulder at her mom and then back to her. “Do you remember last night?”

“I …”

She remembered screaming with the pain when her bones began to inexplicably snap, the white-hot agony that seemed to consume her – she thought she was dying, like Joy, because that was what she deserved after what she did, maybe it was karma – and she remembered her mom and dad screaming too, their voices mingling with her own in the rush of blood and the pounding heartbeat in her ears. And then – nothing. That was the last memory she had until she woke up on the grass, naked, something like blood on her, maybe an hour ago, probably a lot longer. She’d spewed multiple times. Her bones still felt like they were rattling inside of her and she was terrified the pain would come back.

“I don’t understand,” Hayley answered in a hushed voice as the tears blurred her vision, her chin quivering. “I don’t understand what’s going on. What happened to me? What – what’s going on, Dad?”

Her dad took a deep breath, shaky, and then let it out slowly. “You’re a monster,” he declared bluntly.

It felt like a blow, like he had swung his fist at her and knocked her right off the porch. Hayley gasped loudly, the air chocking in her throat, and stared at him with widened eyes. Something was too tight in her chest, a heavy stone sinking into her stomach. What did he mean she was a –

“What?”

“You’re a monster,” he repeated, louder, and his jaw clenched tight in that way it did when he had decided on something and could not be persuaded. “You turned into a monster. You need to leave.”

You turned into a monster.

Involuntarily, without any conscious thought, Hayley stepped forward to approach him at the door, wanting to be close to him, wanting to demand answers – anything! – but her dad slammed the door in her face and when Hayley reached it, all she could do was batter her fists off the wooden frame.

“Dad! Mom! Let me in! MOM!”

Inside, she could hear, somehow, her mom started sobbing and then her dad was crying too. Hayley banged on the door again and tried to twist the doorknob. It had been locked. But then – in spite of the fact it had been locked, she felt it snap loose under her grip and the door swung open to the sight of her mom and dad clinging to each other in the middle of their hall. They both startled at the door’s opening and hurried backwards into the kitchen, still holding one another, their eyes widened with fear as they stared at her. Slowly, Hayley looked down at her hand, the one that had broke the lock, and it felt bizarre, like it wasn’t even her hand, like she was staring at someone else’s body.

“Get out!” her dad screamed, louder than he had ever shouted at her, and Hayley didn’t flinch.

She didn’t feel anything at all. All of a sudden, the distress and the horror and the disbelief had melted into something almost … numb. Like the world was happening around her and she just wasn’t in it.

“Please, p-please,” her mom begged through a harsh sob. “Just - leave us - us alone.”

Leave us alone. They wanted to be left alone. They wanted her to leave. To get out. The words echoed in Hayley’s head. It was her worst fear, her nightmare, the thing that had kept her awake so many nights before and after the adoption, and her mom and dad had sat with her and promised her that she would always have a home with them. That once the adoption was finalized, she would always be their daughter and they would always live together and they would always be a family. Leave us alone.

Hayley had cried with the fear that one day they wouldn’t want her anymore, but now that it was happening all she could feel was a horrible detachment. Logically, she understood what was happening here – or at least the basic part, the part in which they were kicking her out and they were afraid of her; the monster part she still wasn’t comprehending – but there was no emotion impact.

“I’m your daughter,” she said, even her voice sounding distant, odd and disoriented.

“You’re not our daughter,” her dad argued as he straightened up in front of her mom again, staring her down. “Get out of my house. You are not my daughter. You are a monster. You hear me? A monster!” he shouted again, a fury rising in his voice, and still Hayley experienced no flicker of fear.

Taking a step back and then another, she obeyed. Bending down to pick up her schoolbag which she could see was full of clothes, her blue hoodie peeking out the top, she stopped looking at them. Turning around, she made her way down the stairs onto the path. Each footstep felt profound and rattled up her bones and right into her skull. The colours of the garden and the cars and the blue sky seemed too bright and contrasting. She had walked that path every single day for five years and it felt like she had never seen it before. Or maybe she had never seen anything but that path. Maybe she should have always known that she would be walking down it after the house owners told her to leave. Maybe she always had. Hayley blinked at the car when she reached the end and thought, Jenny.

She would go see Jenny.

______________________

NOTES

unless verses are canon divergent before she is kicked out by her adoptive parents or in a au universe, this will be my canon for that particular event. I will be writing more headcanon one-shots in addition to this, but if you have any questions or are curious about any part of Hayley’s past, please feel free to ask me. I love talking about this girl!

#☾ — that explains the charming bravado || headcanon #☾ — i can be a writer || dee’s oneshots #tw child abandonment #tw body horror

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geminiblackout · 3 years

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{Random HPCs} All the icons cause i'm too lazy to add them all!

|| RANDOM HC MEMES (Finished!) || This is a long, long post. So everything will be under read more!

🥳 -How do they spend their birthdays? Jackson: He loves a small outing with his friends. Bowling, dinner out, video game cafes, he really does not need a lot. However, he’s not a very social person, and would prefer to keep these outings to close friends only. Even the idea of people coming up to him to wish him a happy birthday is a little nerve wracking, he doesn’t like all the attention. Holt: Holt doesn’t really understand what a birthday party is supposed to be since he didn’t have a lot growing up (He was only able to be out at night, when most of the other kids would be asleep depending on the time of year). Now, he would prefer to throw his own party or event and invite anyone who wants to come.

🎃 -What’s their favorite holiday? Reasons? Jackson: Jackson has always been a fan of horror movies, so he really enjoys Halloween. He is definately the type to not get scared because ““he knows exactly what is going to happen next”“, and his personal connections to monsters allows him to pick fact from fiction. He still enjoys the genre, and doesn’t mind dressing up for the holiday either. Ironically, he really enjoys taking on a character outside of himself. Holt: Holt used to really enjoy Halloween, but after certain events he feels somewhat melancholy about the Holiday. He likes the party scene and the energy the holiday brings, but there’s still a part of him that’s a little iffy about it all. But, compared to the other holidays in the year, this is one of the best ones.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 -What’s their relationship with their family like? Oh dear. Their family is where they are canon-divergent kind of. They only have one parent, Sydney, just like in the books. However, like in the webisodes, Sydney is the Jekyll and Hyde monster and their father is an unknown fire elemental who left when they were extremely young. Technically, Jackson and Holt are the sons of Sydney’s Hyde and their father. They only have a connection to Heath’s family because of Sydney’s research and her desperation to get help once Holt appeared around age four. Emma, their grandmother, was completely clueless on how to raise a half monster child, and when Sydney became a mother, she was even more clueless on how to raise a half Hyde half Fire Elemental child. Heath’s family was extremely helpful in this, even if Jackson spent far more time with Heath than Holt ever did (Queue: Heath didn’t even recognize Holt when they were reuinited). Jackson: Jackson had an extremely close relationship with his mother. She was extremely protective of him and he trusted her, even looking up to her as a scientist (or, in her case, science teacher). He never got into much trouble growing up and shared a lot of information with his mother. However, after discovering Holt, this relationship was damaged. Sydney gave him very little information on his grandfathers and on who Holt was, leaving him to have to do research for himself. Though he still loves his mother, there is a little bit of resentment there. Sydney generally lives her life as a normie and her Hyde does not come out very often, so Jackson has no relationship with her Hyde side. Holt: Holt has an extremely poor relationship with his mother. She projected a lot of her hatred towards her own Hyde onto him, and was scared of what Holt would mean for Jackson. Sydney did realize he was still apart of her son, and so still loved and treated him like her own, but the favoritism was very apparent. Holt was always getting into trouble as a kid, and he didn’t care much for school. He wasn’t too surprised that she had kept the secret from him, but there was a lot of frustration there. Unlike Jackson, Holt really didn’t care to know about his past, and from what little he does know, the idea of being related to Edward makes him uncomfortable. He aims to make the Hyde name his own and something unrelated to the man and the two Jekylls he lives with. 🚿 - What are their bathroom habits like? (How long do they shower, what do they do in the shower, what’s their bathroom routine, etc.) Jackson: Jackson is very clean, he’s a casual athlete and spends a lot of his time around chemicals, so he really can’t afford not to care for himself. Being part fire elemental, he really enjoys hot showers, so hot they would burn any normal human. His mother specifically got a shower to fit his needs, which much confusion from the plummer. Henry typically isn’t depicted with facial hair, so it is very likely Jackson cannot grow any. Beyond redying his hair and other basic hygiene, he doesn’t do much to care for himself further. Holt: Holt hates showers, but luckily for him Jackson usually handles that aspect of self care. Fire elementals and water don’t mix well, and the bathroom usually just ends up as a mess of steam and smoke. Water doesn’t hurt him, but it’s not a comfortable sensation. He is a bit more concerned with his appearance compared to Jackson, and will take more time to fix up his hair in the mirror and take care of his piercing. Holt occationally does wear eyeliner for outtings, but it is not part of a daily routine, and he wears very little of it. The mark on his face is a birthmark and does not need to be redrawn.

🧼 -What’s their hygiene like, what do they smell like? Jackson: Jackson has to be more careful with fragrances since he works with so many chemicals and around lab mice. If he is working in a lab around animals, he tends to skip the cologne. But, when he’s not, he usually smells like spice and woody scent. Holt: He just looks like he wears axe, and Holt is absolutely the type to go hard on the cologne. It’s very sharp and distinguishable. Sometimes, their two colognes clash with one another and creates a scent unique to them.

🛌 -How do they sleep, how much do they sleep? Jackson and Holt, as a single monster, need less sleep than the average normie or monster would. When one side of the brain is activated, the other gets to rest. When one of the boys is out, the other personality is essentially in a semi-conscious dream state. This means that they only need to sleep enough to allow their body to rest since all the muscles are shared between them, so they really only need a few hours of true sleep a night. Jackson tends to take on true sleep more than Holt, and being part fire elemental he loves to sleep in warmth and will cacoon himself under blankets to make a little oven. Holt on the other hand really can’t sleep that well with the music blasting in his ears, though occationally he will take small naps. Both of them do sleep in very similar ways, and with the muscles in their face relaxed, the simularity between them is striking.

🧸 - Do they have any collections? If so, what? Jackson: Jackson is a huge nerd, and in my HC, really enjoys collecting Magic the Gathering Cards, D&D Dice and Books, and console videogames. He used to collect Pokemon Cards as a kid (And maybe, absolutely used to play with Heath), but he stopped collecting them when he started focusing on MTG. Holt: Holt really isn’t a material person, but he does collect records that he guards with his life, especially now that the trigger switched and he doesn’t have to hide himself from Jackson. He’s not a huge fan of old music so he doesn’t have a lot of vintage records, they are mostly new alblums.

💲 -Do they have a lot of money? What do they usually spend their money on? Jackson: Jackson doesn’t have a lot of money. It mostly comes from his family for birthdays and holidays, and since in my headcanon, he only has his mother and Heath’s immediate family, that isn’t much. Even though he’s fairly confident in getting scholarships, he tries to save most of his money for college (or, in older verses, grad school), but will occationally splurge to buy himself cards or games. Holt: Holt makes a good amount of money DJing. A single night can get him hundreds of USD. It’s certainly more than any monster his age should have. However, like I said before, he is not very materialistic, and he mostly spends it on equipment or nights out, but he does end up saving most of what he makes.

🎼 -Do they play any musical instruments? How good are they if so? Jackson: The last instrument Jackson played was the recorder in third grade. He doesn’t have much interest in the arts, not that he can learn any instruments at the moment anyways. Holt: Holt taught himself to play the guitar and can play both accoustic and electric very well. Not so much an instrument, but he is also fairly skilled in remixing music over a computer. He’s not that tech savy, but he knows how to use the application.

🍔 -Favorite foods and drinks? Jackson: Just in like canon, Jackson really enjoys mac and cheese. He doesn’t really have a favorite drink, but with his mother being British and the weird timeline skipping that went on, he does drink tea. Holt: Hot wings, the hotter the better. He doesn’t really have a favorite drink, but he does enjoy anything spicy.

🕒 - What’s their morning routine like? Jackson: Jackson is usually the one to handle the mornings, because he is the only one allowed to drive. He usually showers to get out all of Holt’s product from the night before and combs out his hair to a messy mop before getting dressed and going, minimal effort required. Generally he doesn’t eat the meals given to him by the school just because it can be a little hard for normies to digest (or, even stomach) monster food, so he does try to grab some kind of breakfast before he leaves. Holt: Holt is usually not out in the morning, but in the rare occation that he is, he usually fixes up his hair, throws on a shirt and his jacket, and packs on the cologne.

#13xwishes #ask answered #//adfs thank u for this heres my life essay #//abuse mention #//animal testing mention #jj #hh #headcanon

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bonesingerofyme-loc · 5 years

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Oryx, Beloved of the Deep

The Deep liked Oryx the best because Oryx came the closest a being born in the universe could to actually understanding it.

The Deep (The Darkness, the Winnower, whatever title you’d like to give it) is incompatible with mortal concepts of morality, and really any mortal concepts at all. It’s like arguing with gravity or taking personal offense to light being both a particle and a wave.

So what we get are intermediaries between the Deep and individuals - we get Worms. Worms are sort-of-between the timeless tropism that is the Deep and the impossibly small-scale living creatures of the universe. Which means the Worms can’t really relate to either, but try their best to bridge it.

When the three Krill siblings found the Worms, the worms sold them an easy deal - eternal life, as long as they do whatever the worms say. Considering what the Worms say is pretty well in line with what the three wanted to do anyway, it seemed pretty sweet.

But the divergence begins here, as does Oryx’s climb to real ascension.

Xivu Arath wanted to fight. She was, and is, simple. She is war, she is a knight, she wants to test her blade against all things. There isn’t much nuance.

Savathun wants to live forever. Oh, sure, she’s known for her trickery, for her traps and plans and infinite cunning - but all of those, all of those, are bent toward the goal of immortality.

Let’s look at these two, then. And how they live up to the urge of the Deep.

Xivu Arath wants to fight. In a way, that’s pretty in line with the Deep - it desires a final, ultimate shape. But see - the Deep doesn’t care how that comes to be. It doesn’t care if that final shape comes to be because a single extremely angry Hive went out and personally cut everyone’s heads off, or if a bunch of self-replicating grey-goo nanobots managed to consume the whole universe. They’re both perfectly valid conclusions to the Deep. One final shape. The end. Easy.

So Xivu superficially is following the ‘philosophy’, so to speak, of the Deep, but she doesn’t believe it. She’s not doing this out of some desire to to be the Only Thing Left Standing. No - from what we know of Xivu (which is precious little, really, compared to her siblings) - she’s just a scrappy sonofabitch who wants to fight. The fact that her burning need for war results in species and complexity dying off, and thus in some way the Final Shape is approached is really kind of serendipity. Not every thing that goes to war worships the Deep - conflict is just a natural part of existence, even in the Sky’s view of it.

Then we have Savathun. She wants to live forever. You could say that the desire to live forever is coterminous with the desire to be the Final Shape. To kill all other things so that one is never threatened and can exist eternally, one and the same with the universe.

But that’s a stretch. Savathun actually hasn’t seemed inclined toward omnicide in particular.

Oh, sure, she’ll partake of it of course, because she is, after all, Hive, and has a Worm gnawing in her throat, but Savathun is out here to live. That’s why she took the Worm, remember?

Aurash wanted to understand, Xi Ro wanted to fight, but Sathona - Sathona wanted the Mother Morph, because she didn’t want to die.

We’re seeing this more and more as more lore is revealed, and it’s becoming interesting how Savathun appears to be growing discontented with the Worms and perhaps even the Deep itself. Indeed - they seem to be nothing more than a means to an end, which was power, and longevity, so that she could learn more and discover more, and draw more power and longevity to herself, that she might then move onto the next stage of her plan for eternal existence, leaving behind both the Worms and the Deep. Unlike Oryx or Xivu Arath, Savathun has tried plans to satiate trick and satiate her Worm’s hunger. Unlike her siblings, she’s trying to find loopholes.

And now she’s hit upon Imbaru, which, by it’s very nature, actually requires other life to exist for it to work. Savathun’s humdinger of a scheme is actually antithetical to the Deep entirely - instead of becoming eternal as the only one, she wants to make herself synonymous and synchronous with suspicion and deception so that as long as those things exist, so too will she.

But how can those things exist if the universe is sterile and dead, all into the Final Shape?

It can’t.

Savathun is angling to break her contract with the Deep and the Worms.

Thus do we have one sister who is merrily warring across space and time, content to do what she always wanted, and it just works out nicely that the result of her hobby does trend toward what the Darkness wants. The other sister is merely using the Deep as a tool, ready and willing to discard it as soon as it becomes useless or a hindrance.

Now Oryx.

Now we look on Oryx, the Taken King, First Navigator of the Osmium Court, Lord of the High War.

Oryx, you could say, was a true believer. In classic fashion, the true believer had his doubts in the beginning, and wavered in his faith. In classic fashion, from the doubt came only the passion that true zealotry can bring, and thus did Oryx become the mightiest of the Hive and most beloved of the Deep.

Now why would Oryx be the most beloved of the Deep?

You could say it’s for a number of reasons. Maybe Oryx had the highest K/D. Maybe Oryx extincted one more species than his sister’s did. Maybe Oryx made sure his lineage said the right prayers in the right way to make the Deep pleased.

It’s none of that.

Oryx was the most beloved because Oryx actually understood.

The Deep is impersonal and it is a force. The Deep doesn’t care about you, or you, or you or you. Your death means nothing to it - literally nothing. Not a positive or negative, just a fact. A fact. There is no malice in the Deep, no hatred - it is a force. That all things must end and become One Shape, to end the game.

These things the Hive do - the tortures, the horrors, the torments - the Deep didn’t ask it of them. The Worms did.

The Hive must do one thing. They must kill. Whether they kill with torturous scalpels or with impersonal nuclear fire - it doesn’t matter. Dead is dead, and the game progresses toward the end.

You could imagine a culture of grieving righteous crusaders, bringing silent death to worlds with painless gasses and bursts of gamma rays, extinguishing trillions of lives as humanely as they can, mourning for each culture lost but knowing it must be done, and taking it on as their curse.

They would serve the Deep as truly as a zealous, shrieking horde of tormented Thralls clawing apart screaming masses.

This is what Oryx began to understand. Oryx in his studies, in his charting of the Deep, came the closest to being able to converse with it on a comparable level. Consider his death - he forsees it and welcomes it. He recognizes and accepts his role as but a tool, an implement, in the great design of the Final Shape. Sure - he hopes that he might be that Final Shape, but he is content, if he is not, that he has done his duty to the universe in progressing it that much closer. And he hopes that whomsoever does end his existence will understand Oryx, and Oryx’s goal, so that even in death his influence can guide his slayer to continue his good work and seek the Final Shape.

When Oryx went to speak with the Deep, and Savathun and Xivu Arath tried to strand him there, something happened.

Oryx fought the deep.

What manner this fight took, what shape it held, what result it had - that’s unknown. But from Verse 4:3, metaphorical though it is, Oryx clearly turns on the Deep and vies with it in some way.

And the Deep is pleased.

Why wouldn’t it? Oryx met with his ‘god’, and stayed true to the exact thing that god cares about more than anything else. The struggle. The push for single victor. Oryx would fight and kill his god to prove his god correct - and this is all the Deep asks.

In his time as a Hive God Oryx stripped away much of what he was. There’s mentions of emotions alloying together, of reduction of complexity in his psyche until all things seem to smear together.

This too, is as the Deep is.

Oryx, in a way, was mantling the Deep. He was becoming simpler, closer to the smile of a blade, closer to nothing but a knife, in mind and purpose, but a knife that was willing to shatter if another knife greater than it contended.

I think the Deep misses Oryx. I think, in as much as it could be, it was proud. In this strange new game with warped rules and twisted grounds, Oryx came the closest to what the Deep once had before it all began. Oryx came the closest to understanding the Deep, personally, and for once, the Deep almost had a peer in the way the Gardener could never be.

In a way, Oryx was almost a friend.

#destiny 2 #unveiling #books of sorrow #oryx the taken king #the darkness #the deep

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yibo-wang · 4 years

Note

Idk if you got an ask before cause tumblr messes stuff up but can you rec some cql/mdzs fanfics?

hello anon! sadly i didn’t get any other ask regarding that, but sure thing!

(although, fair warning i haven’t read a lot of fics since i recently started getting back to it. I’ll add the summary too just so yo’ll get a better idea and not mybiased opinion lol.)

1. The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (AU)

It’s a really unfortunate thing, developing a crush on your husband. Wei Ying had assumed this would be easy. Lan Zhan had been so icy and unpleasant to him, it had never occurred to him that he might end up spending the next however many years with this dumb, burning feeling in his chest whenever he looks at him. “Okay,” says Wei Ying. “But tell me if I…if the pretending gets to be too hard, okay?” “It will not,” says Lan Zhan, quietly certain.

(This was one of the first fics i read and i loved it. Wei Wuxian being an oblivious dork is something I’ve really grown fond of. Pair that up with Wangxian being parents to A Yuan and being pretend husbands and that’t just a way to my heart)

2. Your heart, two doors by downficklish (AU)

It begins with a stray clementine, half-peeled and trailing rind, rounding the corner and rolling down the hallway. Lan Zhan has just stepped into the lobby of the apartment complex, grateful for the reprieve from the heat. He blinks, bemused, and watches as the clementine rolls to a stop just behind him.

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying start off as neighbours but soon find themselves fitting into the spaces in each other's lives like they were meant to be there all along.

(The clemintine fic is yet another one which is my favorite. Again it’s Wangxian being parents to Lan Yuan and it’t just pure domestic vibes with WWX being oblivious to Lan Wangji’s feelings for him.)

3. A stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke (Canon divergent)

When the entire cultivation world turns against Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng comes up with a plan to save him and arranges a marriage between his brother and the Second Jade of Lan, Lan Wangji.

(I think this was the first wangxian fanfic i read and it was comparatively longer than the rest I’ve read so far. I think the summary covers it and i don’t wanna spoil it by saying anything further)

4. The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Post Canon fixit)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

(This one was fun read! It follows the cql verse, how wei wuxian and lan zhan part ways; wwx going on his own journey and lwj fulfilling his duty as the next chief cultivator. Also my favorite junior squad intervenes because they just want their dads to be together)

5. The Light That Fails to Dim by glowingreverie ( AU- canon divergent)

In which Jiang Fengmian is unaware of what happened to Wei Wuxian's parents and Nie Mingjue takes him in and the story continues from there...

( This is the current fic im reading and i was mistaken above, cause this one is definitely the longest fic. I love the author’s take on how different wei wuxian would be if he was adopted by Nie MIngjue instead. It’s sorta canon compliant but you can guess how much considering the starting would be completely different. i love how jian cheng and wei wuxian become close (practically brothers) despite the fact that they didn’t grow up together. i didn’t wanna recommend a fic until i finished it myself but i’m loving this so far. side note i love lxc constantly teasing lan zhan in his own ways.)

6. grow by cafecliche

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

(14k words of baby!wwx and the chaotic junior squad taking care of him. light angst though because wwx didn’t have a happy childhood. Hanguang jun is very good with kids)

7. SanRen by Kyogre (AU)

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator. Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war. However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

(I think this was the fic i was most excited to read because the idea of WWX not belonging to any sect and becoming a rouge cultivator seems so neat to me. In his own words, “I like being everyone's weird uncle that pops up anywhere, anytime!” i really like that too lol)

8. You, Asleep and Dreaming by etymologyplaygroundSummary: (post canon)

Wei Wuxian chuckles and starts pushing Lan Wangji's outer robes off his shoulders.

"Poor Lan Zhan, subject to such earthly miseries. You must be exhausted, come to bed, come to bed."

"Mm," Lan Wangji says. He raises his arms so that Wei Wuxian can keep undressing him.

His clothes will end up on the floor, but no matter. Wei Wuxian's deft hands at his belts are worth wrinkled robes.

"... Goodness, Hanguang-Jun, you wear too many damned layers," Wei Wuxian tells him after a while. "Would it kill you to stop after a reasonable five?"

(ik it sounds like something else but i love this cause it’s just wangxian being soft and intimate and just cuddling. so much fluff!)

9. The (Several) Convenient Kidnappings of the Chief Cultivator by the Yiling Patriarch by misscam

“Yes, Clan Leader Jiang. It is most regrettable, but the Yiling Patriarch has once again kidnapped His Excellency. However, we have every confidence in His Excellency’s safe eventual return.”

“Of course you do,” Jiang Cheng says bitterly. “You get a more agreeable Chief Cultivator, and everyone is happy, right? You are all so happy the Yiling Patriarch kidnaps the Chief Cultivator on a regular basis. How can you not delight in the fact that Wei Wuxian has no shame and is revered for it? Aren’t you all thrilled, thrilled, that Lan Wangji is such good friends with Wei Wuxian that they spend so many friendly nights together and His Excellency returns like a lovesick fool afterwards and is so conveniently more agreeable?”

“…”

“I hate you all,” Jiang Cheng declares and stomps off.

(it was three am, i needed some humor)

10. since then i am because you are sarahyyy

Lan Wangji nods. “If you must marry,” he says again, “don’t let it be with anyone else.”

“I don’t think you understand the concept of marriage, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says with a smile. “I don’t think I can marry myself.” He lets out a laugh at the thought, before Lan Wangji’s words click in his head.

“Unless you mean…”Lan Wangji holds his gaze.“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks incredulously.

(my dumb child wwx is kinda lacking a braincell if you can see. lan zhan and i still love him though.)

11. How Wei Ying Went from Oblivious Idiot to Shameless Boyfriend in Three Days by misscam

“If you give him some relationship advice and I help him with flirting, we’ll get Lan Zhan his heart’s desire in no time!” Wei Wuxian says boldly, and Lan Xichen rubs his temples as if he’s having a headache. “What?”

“… I have offered him relationship advice,” Lan Xichen says finally, slowly, giving Wei Wuxian a look. “I believe the object of his affections is oblivious to his feelings despite numerous gestures.”

“What an idiot,” Wei Wuxian declares, and Lan Xichen looks downright pained. “Don’t worry, Lan Xichen, between your good advice and my excellent tutoring, we’ll make certain Lan Zhan’s affections will be clear to even the most oblivious.”

“… I certainly hope so,” Lan Xichen says after a moment, looking down at the counter and sighing.

(Okay i’m pretty sure you all have noticed that i like my wei ying oblivious as hell lmao)

12. Close Your Soft Eye stimetoboldlygo

When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

(domestic wangxian)

13. With Absolute Splendor by Lise

“If you’re going to get married,” Jiang Cheng ground out, “then you’re going to damn well get married at Lotus Pier.”

Wei Wuxian blinked once. Again. Then: “what?”

Or: the one with sibling reconciliation, brother-in-laws from hell, and Jiang Cheng trying to sort through his feelings while

(gimme all the jc wwx reconcillation fics please. the last two lines just hits the fav trope mark on the head.)

14. but love is impossible & it goes on despite the impossible by gaystcr

Jiang Cheng is planning on avoiding Wei Wuxian after things blow over, but life has a way of fucking plans up, and so Wei Wuxian comes to tell him that he's getting married to Lan Wangji. By throwing himself into half-planning a wedding and having conversations with his nephew(s) and other members of Wei Wuxian's found family, Jiang Cheng navigates through his complicated feelings and realises that something new can be built with his brother, and that he is far less alone than he had thought.

(How can i mention JC WWX fanfic and not recommend this gem. The way rahul just understands them and can put all the feelings in words, is amazing!)

15. stir things apart by azurewaxwing

In which Wei Wuxian comes back to the University of Gusu School of Theatre program thirteen years after dropping out, and lands the starring role in Lan Wangji’s production of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia. Also, Lan Jingyi is the world’s best stage manager.

(Another one that i loved alot. I love a good au with canon compliant characterization. Considering this is the author’s first fanfic, it’s beyong wonderful and i just love it alot!)

16. green the ground below by azurewaxwing

“You and Lan Zhan have been” — Wen Qing twines her hands together in a vague approximation of two people kissing — “for weeks now. I have not been forced to listen to my best friend talk, ad nauseam — literally, it is nauseating — about how great you are and how much he likes kissing you, for you to come out here and claim to be single.”

“But he said … he said he was seeing someone.”

“He was talking about you, Wei Ying. He’s dating you.”

In which Wei Ying is even more oblivious than usual.

(another one by the same author. and it features oblivious wei ying (really surprising aamna). but it was a good, short read. i did enjoy it. ft grumpy lan Qiren)

Okay i think these are enough for now. i’ll try to keep this updated though. i hope you enjoy these fics as much as i did! (for someone who said they’ve barely read any fics i realise these are a lot and i didn’t even realise lol

#please show all the authors love by commenting and leaving kudos #cql fic rec #the untamed #fanfics #wangxian #lan zhan x wei wuxian #aamna recs #lan yuan #let's chat!

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