Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2010-05-10 09:27 am
said_scarlett) wrote2010-05-10 09:27 am
Don't Be a Barn Door Man....
Hee! Thank you for the cookies and milk, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lady_angelina! :D
Man, is it really Monday? For some reason, it doesn't feel like it.
I blamehusband_brother that I had dreams where Link was chasing me all over some city, trying to catch me doing something illegal. Especially behind dumpsters. I'm only sad that I was not actually a wannabe rapper/tyrannical McDonald's Manager.
Also, I can't believe it took this long for me to have a nightmare about the mommy doll.
I've seen a few fic memes floating around, and since I've been writing...eh, figured I'd do the 'post experts of what you're working on!' one. Since I don't actually have 20 fics to post first lines from. I have 11.
Shattered Sounds of Broken Dreams
How in the name of the gods could the man believe that he deserved this woman? What could a world weary sword for hire offer to her? A man who knew nothing but blades and battle could hardly hope to match wits with a woman of such refined thought. Yes, she was sharp, but not like a blade. She was a mage's crystal - serene, beautiful, deceptively dangerous, her inscrutable surface hiding untold power and wisdom. And for fifty years they had lived as man and wife, for fifty years they had shared home and bed. It was maddening to contemplate!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
The people of the mountain village were superstitious and simple. They feared that which they did not understand and had no means to comprehend the science of the world. And so they were wary of the garden as well as its keeper. They would not walk by the cottage beyond the outskirts of the village. They would not meet her strange eyes in the streets of the village, nor return her pleasantries in the market. They would not look at her, but the word they called after her followed as though chained to her ankle.
The word that followed was 'witch'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Crossover That Was Supposed to be Yaoi But Never Will Be
Alphonse shook in his arms, nodding fiercely every now and again or mentioning some small thing about his own mother. How similar the other boy's loss had been to his own! How Al had returned home to find his mother ill in bed. How Al had been broken by grief. How Al had suffered the slings and arrows of a harsher older sibling's bravado in the never-ending wake of loss. It was both comforting and disturbing to find someone else who understood. Comforting, because he could cry and share without fear and be held without feeling as though he were letting anyone down.
Disturbing because no one else should ever have lost their mother like that.
But he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Al too been pushed to the forbidden by his grief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
If you're in exile still, it's self-inflicted and you're well aware of that.
And she did. She isolated herself and kept herself walled away from others. It was her choice and she had her reasons, so she supposed she couldn't wax maudlin about it too much. It wasn't as though she had any logical reason to complain. She lived in luxury, she was worshipped and adored by her people, she maintained a country of unparalleled beauty and artistic advancement….
And still she couldn't sleep, and all because her thoughts refused to give up their grip on some wild woman!
Albeit some fascinating and entrancing wild woman, with storm swept eyes and hands as calloused and rough as a man's....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Life and Times of Tristan Cohle - Working Title
Tristan couldn't imagine living like that. His own father was a gruff man of few words and fewer smiles, but he was a good father to his children. And considering there were near to a dozen of them, that said something. Tristan had been scolded by his parents and punished for getting up to no good, but he couldn't remember ever being told he was practically unwanted. He'd never had his father call for him only to spend an hour berating him and dressing him down and insulting him. How could anybody live like that and still be sane?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Crossover Zombie!AU
"There is always more money, Hohenheim. You must simply be patient. After all, men such as you and I can afford to have patience."
Taras paid his partner and sometimes companion little heed. The damn Elric man was always losing his head over money - how much they had, how much they spent, how much they needed, where more would come from. It was really very tiring. He had far more important things on his mind in the wake of Germany's spectacular loss.
He stood before the fireplace, a goblet of wine in his hand, and watched the flames. He was a large man, tall and broad and thick throughout. A great beast of a bull, they said when they thought he could not hear. And now the light of the fire on his red and white robes gave his form a demonic cast, like some man-shaped creature carved from gold and alabaster and blood. He was not a man to be argued with. And yet...
"Can we?" Hohenheim snorted. "You forget. My illness."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
It was as though the woman sitting across from him simply wasn't listening to a word he said! Attempting to converse with her was nothing short of maddening!
"You misunderstand," he continued, his expression tight and blank. "I have no desire for you to pity me. But you inquired, and I am answering. My father had no love for me as a son. My importance to him lay only in my station as his heir. And so he did not raise me as a son but as an heir." A small, almost bitter laugh. "No, that isn't quite right either. He didn't even raise me, he only tried to train me as though I were a horse or hound. He had servants attend to everything else."
"But…what about your mother?"
"I don't talk about my mother."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Infamous Sheep Fic
Sheep stunk. They really, really, really stunk. And people said wet dog smelled bad? Ha! That was nothing compared to the rank, overpowering odor of damp and unwashed sheep's fur. Jeeze, he was gonna reek in the morning! There had to be at least a dozen of the dumb things in the inn's tiny barn. If it was the inn's. Did inn's normally have barns full of sheep? He didn't know, he was too drunk to remember.
All he knew was that he had to sleep in it, and he wasn't happy.
Okay, I actually had 8, since I apparently completely forgot I did start the sheep fic! Baaaa!
lady_angelina! :DMan, is it really Monday? For some reason, it doesn't feel like it.
I blame
husband_brother that I had dreams where Link was chasing me all over some city, trying to catch me doing something illegal. Especially behind dumpsters. I'm only sad that I was not actually a wannabe rapper/tyrannical McDonald's Manager.Also, I can't believe it took this long for me to have a nightmare about the mommy doll.
I've seen a few fic memes floating around, and since I've been writing...eh, figured I'd do the 'post experts of what you're working on!' one. Since I don't actually have 20 fics to post first lines from. I have 11.
Shattered Sounds of Broken Dreams
How in the name of the gods could the man believe that he deserved this woman? What could a world weary sword for hire offer to her? A man who knew nothing but blades and battle could hardly hope to match wits with a woman of such refined thought. Yes, she was sharp, but not like a blade. She was a mage's crystal - serene, beautiful, deceptively dangerous, her inscrutable surface hiding untold power and wisdom. And for fifty years they had lived as man and wife, for fifty years they had shared home and bed. It was maddening to contemplate!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
The people of the mountain village were superstitious and simple. They feared that which they did not understand and had no means to comprehend the science of the world. And so they were wary of the garden as well as its keeper. They would not walk by the cottage beyond the outskirts of the village. They would not meet her strange eyes in the streets of the village, nor return her pleasantries in the market. They would not look at her, but the word they called after her followed as though chained to her ankle.
The word that followed was 'witch'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Crossover That Was Supposed to be Yaoi But Never Will Be
Alphonse shook in his arms, nodding fiercely every now and again or mentioning some small thing about his own mother. How similar the other boy's loss had been to his own! How Al had returned home to find his mother ill in bed. How Al had been broken by grief. How Al had suffered the slings and arrows of a harsher older sibling's bravado in the never-ending wake of loss. It was both comforting and disturbing to find someone else who understood. Comforting, because he could cry and share without fear and be held without feeling as though he were letting anyone down.
Disturbing because no one else should ever have lost their mother like that.
But he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Al too been pushed to the forbidden by his grief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
If you're in exile still, it's self-inflicted and you're well aware of that.
And she did. She isolated herself and kept herself walled away from others. It was her choice and she had her reasons, so she supposed she couldn't wax maudlin about it too much. It wasn't as though she had any logical reason to complain. She lived in luxury, she was worshipped and adored by her people, she maintained a country of unparalleled beauty and artistic advancement….
And still she couldn't sleep, and all because her thoughts refused to give up their grip on some wild woman!
Albeit some fascinating and entrancing wild woman, with storm swept eyes and hands as calloused and rough as a man's....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Life and Times of Tristan Cohle - Working Title
Tristan couldn't imagine living like that. His own father was a gruff man of few words and fewer smiles, but he was a good father to his children. And considering there were near to a dozen of them, that said something. Tristan had been scolded by his parents and punished for getting up to no good, but he couldn't remember ever being told he was practically unwanted. He'd never had his father call for him only to spend an hour berating him and dressing him down and insulting him. How could anybody live like that and still be sane?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled Crossover Zombie!AU
"There is always more money, Hohenheim. You must simply be patient. After all, men such as you and I can afford to have patience."
Taras paid his partner and sometimes companion little heed. The damn Elric man was always losing his head over money - how much they had, how much they spent, how much they needed, where more would come from. It was really very tiring. He had far more important things on his mind in the wake of Germany's spectacular loss.
He stood before the fireplace, a goblet of wine in his hand, and watched the flames. He was a large man, tall and broad and thick throughout. A great beast of a bull, they said when they thought he could not hear. And now the light of the fire on his red and white robes gave his form a demonic cast, like some man-shaped creature carved from gold and alabaster and blood. He was not a man to be argued with. And yet...
"Can we?" Hohenheim snorted. "You forget. My illness."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Untitled
It was as though the woman sitting across from him simply wasn't listening to a word he said! Attempting to converse with her was nothing short of maddening!
"You misunderstand," he continued, his expression tight and blank. "I have no desire for you to pity me. But you inquired, and I am answering. My father had no love for me as a son. My importance to him lay only in my station as his heir. And so he did not raise me as a son but as an heir." A small, almost bitter laugh. "No, that isn't quite right either. He didn't even raise me, he only tried to train me as though I were a horse or hound. He had servants attend to everything else."
"But…what about your mother?"
"I don't talk about my mother."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Infamous Sheep Fic
Sheep stunk. They really, really, really stunk. And people said wet dog smelled bad? Ha! That was nothing compared to the rank, overpowering odor of damp and unwashed sheep's fur. Jeeze, he was gonna reek in the morning! There had to be at least a dozen of the dumb things in the inn's tiny barn. If it was the inn's. Did inn's normally have barns full of sheep? He didn't know, he was too drunk to remember.
All he knew was that he had to sleep in it, and he wasn't happy.
Okay, I actually had 8, since I apparently completely forgot I did start the sheep fic! Baaaa!
no subject
I've moved on from A LOT of fandoms, too. It just happens. XD And sometimes, it's better for the soul.
no subject
Oh yes. And then I found THE fandom, and well...yeah. It's not only good for my soul, it ate my soul.
no subject
I bet it found your soul delicious XDDD <3
no subject
Well then! Here is the tame stuff! (http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2316732/Cross_the_Sky)
And here is the naughty stuff! (http://games.adultfanfiction.net/authors.php?no=1296883914)
Psssh, it's okay, I know what you mean about ff.net. :D
Mmm, nommy soul!
no subject
I still need to get an aff.net account haha:DDD Happiness in a can~ -bookmarks both links-
Gawd, ff.net can be such a trainwreck. XD Why do I love it sometimes?
no subject
It's even worse than ff.net, and yet...HURRAH! I hope you enjoy!
It can! But I have found some good stuff on there!