Bad fanfic. BAD fanfic!!
keori and I were visiting reptilian_muse last weekend. He decided we needed to gather 'round his laptop and read up on weepingcock, where we found excerpts of a truly awful Twatlight fic sporked (text is extremely explicit).
Then I clicked through to the entire story on ff.net. It's not just the sex scenes. It's the whole damn thing.
Not only is the prose ultraviolet, but the author, Goldenmeadow, abuses the English language like it was a kid in an Irish church orphanage. Ham-fisted alliteration, assonation, or redundancy that doesn't quite give Beowulf a run for its money. (Even the warnings start off with, "This is completely dark and slash and dank.") Words that don't mean what she thinks they mean. Archaisms that add nothing. Turns of phrase that either go clunk or are unintentionally hilarious.
Also, in the chapters written from Edward's point of view, the emo is strong with this one. Really strong. Even considering the subject matter. I want to mail her a box of razors along with the Rippy cartoon, with "GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!" scrawled on the box with a Sharpie.
"Incarcerated" has nearly 100 reviews. Every single one is glowing. I would like to think she got five times as many mocking ones and deleted them all.
Anyway. Masochistic me decided I had to read the whole thing, copy out my FAVORITE parts, and add my remarks. Bold is my emphasis. Blue is my commentary. I didn't really bother remarking on the annoying and pointless repetition, although I did bold it to call attention to it.
Note that, this being slash fiction, the text is highly sexually explicit and as such may be NSFW.
Ch 1. Inculcated
[Edward POV]
I left. I left my family. I left their lives. Left my life. The screechy images made torn, ragged holes in my demon heart that never beat.
With hate. Hate for my salve, my balm, my sire, my savior. And my mother, my birth, my death, and my infinite, indestructible life that went on….and on. [Like Goldenmeadow's writing.]
The clan had grown amidst these southern climes like the conquering, climbing tendrils of honeysuckle. Clinging. Needy. Desperate for commune. Commonality. A toehold, a tongue hold, a respite from the bloody abattoirs of our species.
Civilians traipsed about, unawares, distinctly smelling of meat and meal and victuals and organs and intestines filled with the distension of more and more and more crimson blood. [OM NOM NOM. People are MREs on foot.]
Peacocks fanned their tail feathers and squawked and screamed from southern pine to live oak, spoiling silence with their scratchy calls, raping air [WAT] with their bright cerulean, violet, alizarin-dappled yells [is synesthesia one of those shiny bonuses you get when you're undead, like superhuman strength?] that sounded like a mortal's dying, begging for the pain to end, for life to begin anew. [Emo peacocks.]
And swilling upon the air that I raped into my nose... [WAT ×2]
The sight that hit me floored me, deluged me, and caused instant paralyzation. Tiny and tucked into her lover like a permanent stole, I [the first of many dangling participles] stared at the woman. Habilled [because "clad" wouldn't have shown off Goldenmeadow's vocabulary sufficiently] in black from head to toe, she was unquestionably beautiful with her ethereal Lilliputian features [I don't think Alice was that tiny, GM].
But I felt nothing. I frowned and glared questioningly at her. She took one step back, one closer to her man, and the rounds of her eyes that were as tiger-spun [hurp?] as mine stabbed with some kind of understanding. It wasn't her. This dire requirement, this I must have you now was directed at him!
The capering infusion intensified, and the realization of its masculinity speared me, throwing me into undiscovered forests damp with decaying vegetation, and into the surly curls of the ocean's roiling surface.
[So, basically, ONOEZ I HAZ TEH GHEY!! Also, sounds like Jasper needs to get a razor and some "sensitive skin" foam and shave his damp, decaying vegetation.]
I noted that he was tall, an inch or two above me, tawny, of animals and savagery tamed. [Wat? No, really, I don't know whether she's calling Jasper wild or tame here.] The vague waves of his hair were like ripe wheat swaying in an unending field. ["....of puurrrrrple waaaaves of graaaiin....."]
Loose, lush lips that [sink ships? Oh, never mind...] looked plucked from down and velvet and pillows of kings. [What a lucky guy, he gets to bite the pillows of kings.]
Flawed and flecked all over with nibbling scars of bitemarks that were shiny and iridescent as the insides of an oyster shell. [Oh, great, give the emo kids on the internet one more way to romanticize their arm scars.]
His entire being a shoal that I wanted to berth against! [Does Goldenmeadow know what a shoal is? Because I'm not entirely certain the implication of self-destructiveness is intentional. She probably thinks it's like a harbor.]
My primitive primal need was abrupt.
Lithe, lean, long, and leonine. I could imagine his cock. More of the same, but thick. ["Can you feel the love tonight..." Never was the lyric about "the sweet caress of twilight" more apt.]
Immediately engorged with venom... [The vampires have venom in place of blood - or semen, for that matter. But of course I immediately thought of this.]
I faltered, feverish, frightened!
That stroke, beneath my sac, along the private soft tendon that was a causeway from cock to ass. [All that sand must itch after a while.]
I felt like an amputee with the ghost of a limb itching, tingling, tainting as soon as I left Jasper's presence. ["Tainting" sounds like something that might happen along the Federal Dorsal Causeway.]
Pacing, sighing, heaving, I stomped about my room. [CRAWLING IN MY SKIN....THESE WOUNDS THEY WILL NOT HEAL...]
More maudlin meanderings [wanderings around?] on this woman were cut short as I caught the whiff of him entering the house. Swarthy [more synesthesia], gritty, crops burgeoning.
Again, my erection forged up over the muscled skin of my abdomen, pulsing within my pants, scraping against the wiry trail of hair [OWW] that was a tangled line from my navel to the base of my cock, where it bloomed to a crisp auburn brush that my dick canopied over. [I don't find the word "dick" erotic, at least not in this context, but the addition of "canopied" makes me imagine his wang painted in bright colors, with a couple of teeny tiny people underneath it enjoying drinks at a patio table.]
...a push down on the steel-tense bridge of skin between my balls and my ass. [I eagerly await the next overheated transportation metaphor. Will it be the Testicular Turnpike? Will it be the Rustic Pubic Path? Will it be the Too Much Information Superhighway?]
...while his thumb and forefinger nickel and dimed the rarified weeping slit atop... [Uh. Words, Goldenmeadow. They, uh, mean stuff.]
"FUCK!" I slammed my ass against the post, and ripped one last time up my cock [OWWW], twisted at the top [OWWWWWW], saw again Jasper's mouth lipping just over the top of me, and came so fucking hard that venom would not stop its cascade for what felt like minutes! [Goldenmeadow could make a good living writing the blurbs on the backs of bukkake DVDs.]
Tick tock. Tick tock. Minutes, days, months. [But the party don't stop!]
Learning, quickly, that Jasper could sense and warp the sentiments of others, I was bound and gagged and gagging by the idea that he had known straight away of my lust for him. Stripped down to a pyre of pure need, my keen, keening, corrupt want was plain to him.
His peaceful mind quelled all the thoughts around him. In his presence I could swim in a still lake, the surface unrippled by the stippling utterances of others. He spread his peace to me, like a trance. Not through the power of his ability, but through the innate goodness that clamored and warred with the death-dealing artifacts of his past.
The silence was…golden. [No comment.]
Alice alone broke through. Perhaps because their bond trumped mine with him. Worse than mere thoughts, hers were moving images, flickering and speckled with possibilities of the future. Never once was I shown a moment where he and I were together as I wished.
In this way, she sought to become his spokesperson. Pithy bitch. [She was tormenting Edward with telepathy... made up of short, punchy verbal lines? Also, you'll note that the women in this story are Bad and Evil because they get in the way of the Holy Man-Love, and of course the Man-Hole Love.]
With his ease, his soothing nature, I could almost rid myself of the clawing, garroting gruel of the daemon desire.
Was it worse to feel this alive and untouched, or to be inert, a fossil, an insect caught in liquid hardening amber, still and untouchable? Intact but for this shard of ice that was my heart breaking apart with each meeting. [This passage is made out of fail and angsty LJ poetry written by 13-year-olds who listen to Tori Amos.]
Spun from infinitely fine skin, his areoles would be downy and ductile. [They could be stretched into weird shapes?] Tactile. [Well, yes, they would have nerve endings.]
And I was done with shame and guilt and the Jesus-complex [the "Jesus-complex"?]. This was mutiny [on the Bounty?]. Infested in [Nicky? Nicky Pacione? That you?] the need for satiation, I was knee deep in my own squalor [ew].
Down the midden of his chest... [ew ×2... going by Ch. 4, I think you wanted the word "mizzen," GM...]
Inward to his navel, with the peach fuzz that sprung below [Anyone else thinking of Peach Schnapps?].
....adhering to the thick, vividly indecent shape of his dick. Thick and long, just as I had fabricated [just as he had lied about?].
Made cruel crewelwork of that which I lived for, and had already died for [Embroidered it into pretty floral patterns?].
Alice creeped nightly inside of me... [Verb tenses, GM. They're your friend. Or they want to be, anyway.]
Ch 2. Initiated
[Jasper POV]
[The chapter starts with a flashback to Jasper's mortal life in the Confederate Army. He meets Maria, yet another Bad Bad Woman and also a mess of ethnic stereotypes. Maria fucks his brains out, turns him into a vampire, and makes him an officer in her "vampire army" that kills hundreds of people who had managed to survive the war itself.]
Seeing that the last of the evacuees from the besieged Texas city ... [Er, there was "extensive violence and disorder" in Texas after the Civil War, but it wasn't "besieged" in any sense during or even after.]
...the strong sweltering features of this gentle lady... [Her features were experiencing hyperthermia?]
I crossed myself and said goodbye to her. [Jasper was a Catholic? Not seeing anything about that in his bio.]
"Jasper, mi amore." [Would we call this "Spitalian" or "Itanish"?]
...the Spanish mistress licked up my thighs and put her succulent mouth to my cock, sinking deep, replicating vivisection with lust. [OWWWWWW]
...pulse harder into the spiteful spitting and hissing depths of her throat...
...filled with the blaze of blood and the haze of human silage! [Allusion to drunkenness, given that silage is fermented? Or just more silly word choices?]
With her bud between my teeth, tetchy, lapping, languid...
I entered Maria! [Haaaallelujah!] My neck arched back and her spine flipped around like a bass on the end of a line. [Oooh. That's HAWT. Also, is she double-jointed in her spine?]
...plowing, prowling, growling, odium and need commingling.
Jealous, greedy, rotten, evil, Maria made me a bad man. [It was all that whorish temptress's fault! I'm a good boy, really!]
Yearning gnawed at me, curled my tongue, and widened my nostrils like a studhorse about to mount a filly whose nether regions and hindlegs quivered in preparation. [Make your own "His wife? A horse" joke.]
I....tore my teeth and spacious lips all over her nipples that hardened yet more into the highest tightest Smoky Mountain peaks. [It's like John Denver writing vampire pr0n.] Petite, she was pregnant with diabolical tendencies. [Aside from the unfortunate word choice of "pregnant," what does her stature have to do with that?]
Massacre, slaughter, homicidal assassination. [Be careful. That leads to incivility and procrastination.]
Peter became my second in command.... he looked every bit of our breed; dark-skinned, black-haired, almond burgundy eyes. [Jasper is blond, so "our breed" is what I'd call an ill-advised turn of phrase.] Packed with hirsute strength and agile speed. [Compared with what, sluggish speed?] The breadth of his chest was a continuous ravine to the low breeches he wore, detailing fragments of his ribs, his stomach, and his torso. [Emaciation is hawt.]
I ... leaned back to watch as our dicks slicked together, so tough, so male. [Why did I read this just after I took a drink of water?]
The sluice and stipple and juicy tender recess of his ass was magnificence! [I feel like I'm reading a review of a steakhouse.] I bore Peter aloft as I hummed, snuck up, and smacked him so hard with my cock inside, my balls outside, that he jerked up like a wooden puppet! [That's ... not erotic, unless you jerk off to "Punch & Judy" shows.]
My seed ... listed back out down his ropey thighs. [The definition she's going for is the nautical one, "to lean, or cause to lean, to one side." I think.]
I was starving for her bratty brutality, his limber lightning love.
The deep violent violet of his sleepless eyes...
[So Jasper kills Maria.] A freed man, I was uplifted! Following the Underground Railroad north... [This juxtaposition is even tackier than the Mexican stereotypes painted on Maria.]
The graves of my mother, Marilyn Jane Whitlock.... [Was anybody in the 19th century named "Marilyn"?]
The Wurlitzer replaced the Howitzer. A rampant tinkle of music and melody sent me forward. The Charleston switched with the Jive. Roaring Twenties, Dirty Thirties, the thriftiness of the Depression [Yep, them was the days!]; they all passed and found me in the Forties. 1948. Philadelphia. A mom and pop diner... ["It's called a montage..."]
She would have been a fine flapper! Feeling like I had been called to her, I was drafted immediately, a rookie up to bat. .... this dame smiled gamely at me...I pulled her off her perch and twirled her about the checkerboard tiles of the greasy spoon...To her bohemian pad, we strolled at a languorous pace. [There were no distinct and separate American subcultures in the 1940s, apparently.]
Purloining the welts and weals on my chest, my ribs and thighs... [Stealing them?] Returning to my nipples time and time again, I finally growled... [GM loves her dangling...participles. Jasper is returning to his own nipples time and time again.]
Pushing her left leg over my chest, I laid her on her side and continued thrusting...I yanked her sweltering, icy pussy [bzuh?] over my erection, ...felt her heels making slaw of my own paps. [Was she wearing stilettos with razors attached to the spikes?] She grappled behind her and tugged my ass, stroked my balls and an explosion of chocolate cosmos and citronella geraniums, cedar and salt-water creeks made quick work of our orgasm. [Someone bombed the Yankee Candle shop next door! At least, I hope that's what it was. Rather than, say, an explosion of chocolate cosmos radiating out of Uranus.]
Unable to bridge the guilty gully between love, hate, hurt, soul.
We found the Cullens....A large family of vegetarian vampires... [This sounds so David Attenborough.]
...her tongue cut like a razor sharp maxaluna through the bullshit. [What the fuck is a "maxaluna"? Google isn't giving me anything except restaurants.]
I wondered at [Edward's] standing as the lynch pin to this family, [Homophones. Not Goldenmeadow's friends. Then again, why should they be different than anything else in the English language?]
Lust crested off of him like a tsunami and felt nearly as devastating as my own! [ITYM "cum," not "lust," GM.]
...nothing I had ever felt myself or through anybody else! It was then and now, nothing and forever, all at once, all of a sudden! [And it was running ten minutes late!]
....the unrefined ore of his eyes snookered, not at all clandestine, up my thighs... [Unless she's talking billiards, we can't stop here, this is Oxymoron Country.]
I joined Emmett in joking and jesting and tried to jerk [cough]attention away from the man that scrabbled [OWWW] with his cock above, wishing only that I could see him in the act of masturbating. Tearing down the walls in the cascade of his climax, Edward hollered out, "Oh fuck! Oh, J…Jesus," and I knew that my name was on the cusp of his tongue.
[SERIOUS secondhand embarrassment. Edward, you utter wanker.]
Ch 3. Invested
[Jasper POV]
Like an outcrop, [Edward's] firestorm hair flattened and flattered and raucously burned atop his head; the mane of a lion. ["Can you feel the slash tonight..."]
In my presence, longing made white rapids of his skin, death-dealing currents of his flesh. A hard stone protrusion of his dick. [This isn't a metaphor, it's a megaphor. Were the minnows biting, too? How about the crabs?]
Through games of chess, hours spent reading in the library, a litany of music, scratchy antiquated [wince] records on his gramophone [did he it have a really big horn?]; we met in silence, mostly...Like an oil well that I wanted to unearth and drill into, I clambered over the rocky headlands of his desire for me. [DRILL, BABY, DRILL!!!]
I came upon his door [and then wiped it off?] that was slightly ajar. Peering inside, I gasped and was arrested by the vision of him standing tall, possessed, stroking his gloriously long-veined erection. [Vein length is smexy?]
...one final, endless tug that made glycerin, thick, sweet, yellow liquid erupt from the tiny opening at the head of his dick! [Er, can vampires get STIs?]
It hit the floor, his lowered jeans, fell upon his hands, and through it all he glowered and his face furrowed and his cheeks caved in and his mouth opened and he looked me straight in the eye. [Edward's O-face doesn't sound all that appealing, frankly.]
I bracketed one hand against the killer erection that was a titan in my trousers.... ["There's a titan in my pants, and it does a funny dance, when it comes into the room, people hit it with a broom..."]
In the verdant tassled forest, Edward was Pan, lethal and lonely in the fallow fen. And I was Puck. We were truth and purity, gallivanting capers and bad luck. [Aw, look, Goldenmeadow just took Comparative Mythology at her high school! Also, Edward is fucking fannish people who have jaundice?]
With Edward, I would be everything and nothing. Fresh and young and sinister, brother, lover….friend, helpmeet. There would be no pigeon-holing. [Nah, just cornholing.]
I had been the enabler in every codependent partnership. [I think that the self-help jargon here is the record scratch that finally breaks the record.]
Unlike all the rest, this wasn't simply the free-flowing give of tranquility, carnality, body, brain, talent, skill. This thing would be transcendent! Above and beyond all emotions. The truth of peace. The utter absence of worldly turmoil. The essence of lust. The very birth of need! The exact limitlessness of want. [The extremities of bad prose.]
Every damn thing to such a degree that our open admission, our loving and fucking and mating would be an explosion outwards. An implosion inwards. A vortex spinning out and a Black Hole sucking in [obvious joke goes here]. The end of all days and all things that we previously knew.
He was in a simple, worn, button down and abused dark trousers. [Snerk.]
With legumes of greenery, the lush of rigid ligaments, the flush of seen ligature, a liturgy of flesh littered by scars and emboldened. [AGAIN: WORDS. THEY MEAN THINGS.]
Wanting nothing more than for him to touch me, love me, kiss me, hit me, hate me? LOVE me, need me. [**bursts into song** Hooold me, hoold me, never let me gooooo...]
His proud cock stood hard and straight like a lickable pole, and I gagged to feel that rod in my hands, to reel it closer and closer to my tongue. [Just wait 'til the hook sinks in.]
My hair a golden lariat that he would wind around his built wrists as he rose up and his back beat against my chest!
"Don't," his sun-bitten, raided voice warned.
Two days later, I leaned over the spring blades of the pelt of St. Augustine's [bzuh?] and licked him from collar bone to his square Artesian jaw [his jaw was built in Artois, France by Carthusian monks?]
Hushing his pursed lips with my ginger fingers... [With tasty treats? Or with something more disturbing?]
I saw every chaotic emotion in her bleak, doppled eyes... [They limped? They became higher-pitched as she moved closer? They analyzed software?]
Ch 4. Incarcerated
[Edward POV]
That fucking everlasting, nonstop tock tock tock of time tarried its torture over me.
...the dusty, musky, manly, soil-sea scent of him...
The mere mention of a feminine name twined with his made me scowl, lower my eyes, and tear up chunks of the grass we reclined upon. [Goddamned FEMALES!]
Jasper remained a chunk of carbon compacting into a diamond within my soul.
These were the Ides of March. In like a lamb, out like a lion. [Indeed.]
[All of a sudden, the Volturi are taking over. There's no setup to it, just half a dozen more ultraviolet paragraphs. Oh, well, it's not like anyone's reading this dreck for the plot. Anyway, Edward buys the Old City Jail in downtown Charleston, S.C., for a buck and moves in.]
I lived amongst the squalor of government housing, Gullah fish-fries, and worn clothing hanging from the line. Corner shops were sheltered beneath shutters in case of gunshot that crackled across streets. People were carjacked daily. [Edward has street cred now. VAMPIYA 4 LYFE, YO.]
If I turned the corner and went two blocks down I was folded into jasmine and hidden grottoes of sago palm, fountains and stone palaces that spoke of filthy new money bought on credit, and antique Antebellum inheritors that had owned this land preemptive of the most uncivil war. [The nouveau riche. So much worse than slaveholders.]
My home, the Jail was a squat, square structure footed and shouldered by four tall towers. Of crumbling stone, new cement, the rotten timber casements riddled by insects' eggsacks, there was a gallows tree in the yard and an iron prison of a wagon that had formerly shuttled prisoners to marketplace for heckling and jeering. In the good old days. [This is actually a decent descriptive paragraph, except that she should have put a period after "eggsacks" and begun a new sentence. I'm a bit astonished.]
Purported to be haunted, housing rumrunners and pirates, serial murderers and the infirm of mind, I was the disturbed monster that stalked its unlit hallways now. Incarcerated of my own free will. Ascetically furnished with the barest of necessities, light lacked through the dim, dusty windows of this falling-to-pieces fortress.
Just like me.
Scurvy-infested citadel. Infected and diseased mind. Wastrel spirit.
[Y'know, GM, sometimes it's better to let the reader complete the metaphor.]
A beast. A man. An ancient. A boy. A hungry fiend. More than blood, I wanted Jasper. More than my grave pelted beneath rocks and filthy soil that would keep me under forever, I needed him. [She's really fond of all permutations of the word "pelt."]
I squashed a scurrilous scurrying palmetto bug underfoot as I made my doomed way to the portcullis. Giving up a satisfying squelch, it was the size of a clacking fiddler crab in the muck of the marsh. Hit my boot doubly against the composite steps to loosen its hold under my boot. The soot and silt on my sole was caked with putrid insect innards. [O-kay.]
I rubbed my erection against the unyielding aperture that estranged us and moaned. [I.e., Edward fucked the door.]
Stark, white dick throbbing with pulsing toxin that made blue rivers amongst pure, arctic planes. Full to bursting. Leaking and humid. ["Humid"?]
Jasper was a silky handsome roadweary picture of sunbursts and harvest moons against the black night that caressed his back. [Dear lawd, it's like a velvet painting in words. This is not a compliment.]
I jerked out of his hold when I caught quick flashes of a fantastical be-cloaked battle taking place. Alice. She was now near enough to see us, to pull me into her head... Unraveling like the woolen story of the Bayeux Tapestry, Alice's reels continued to stroll over me like the historic invasion of Normandy. Our D-Day. Except, we knew what was coming to us. [Custer's Last Stand? Blackhawk Down?]
I was starving. Strafing from hunger to wretched wrath and back again. [How does airborne machine-gun fire come into this?]
In the blink of an eye, with slaughter too fucking close [Does Edward swear this much in the book? Because, really, I'm getting Pacione flashbacks here, except I don't think Nicky used so many exclamation points.], I was desperate once more to repeal Jasper! [Jasper's a law? I mean, besides unto himself?]
"I would rather die than have them do this," I whispered a crushed thing [...?] against his ear and the wheaten locks that framed the uncovering shell. [Verb tenses, GM. Remember: They'll be friends to you if you're friends to them.]
Jasper winked his strobing, bullion eyes, "I'd rather you lived, love, at least for a little while." [This is a perfect example of how much literary fail GM can pack into a few short lines. Jasper winked both eyes? They "strobed"? Aren't there more-lilting terms for golden-brown eyes than "bullion"? Why is "winked his strobing, bullion eyes" doing duty for a verb like "said" or, since this is Goldenmeadow, "whispered" or "breathed" or whatever moist and dripping verb she'd prefer? Why is "love" italicized? More importantly, if it's meant as an endearment, why didn't GM use a Southern rather than a British one? And if it's meant to agree with "lived," why isn't it past tense?]
Even while I taloned and clawed and denied him escape, I felt older, wiser, stronger, sadder, more sick, more tainted, more hurt, more raped by this never, never, never. [Just stop that already. Even leaving aside how this word usage trivializes rape, it's also laughably emo.]
I shifted just to the side and hissed as our erections took up parallel lunges [En garde!], feeling him so fucking long and broad through his trousers rasping against my shaft. [Wait, both men's erections were feeling Jasper's cock...?]
...the taut highway where his neck met shoulder... [At least it's not the Federal Dorsal Causeway.]
Whimpering and grinding harder, the hurt on my face turned to a frown of furious lust! [Edward's facial expressions are audible.]
...tongues, soft budding flesh of red tasting wholly! [The Jackson Pollack school of erotic writing: Throw enough colorful bits on the page and hope they make a pretty pattern, but don't bother about connecting them up in any recognizable fashion.]
Over the dips and hills of my quivering sinews, into my spine, fingering the dimples just above my buttocks, he paved his way over my skin that cried like my voice, salivating and glorying, "Fucking hell, Jasper!" [Screaming skin again. Edward's skin also drools. On a side note, do sinews ever do anything in bad pr0n except "quiver"? Sadly, the cliché works better than do most of GM's original metaphors.]
Shanks of laughter trembled us together... [Shins of laughter? Cuts of meat made out of laughter? Long thin pins of laughter? The early or primary part of laughter?]
I scowled, smirked, simpered [you left out "snorted" and "sang" and maybe "slobbered," GM] over the enormous icy shard that charred my palm.
...pressed my thumbs into his dusky nipples and took them into my mouth. Pluck, pluck, plucking the niblets rising under my tongue. [Corn. That's all I can think of. Corn. Well, also "Pluck, pluck, pluckin' on heaven's door...."]
It took both my hands to grip his cock fully... ["It takes two hands to handle a Whopper!" Also, I hope Jasper brought lube.] Stringent golden curls scratched my knuckles...
The map of scars that lit his chest and arms did not diminish his masculine handsomeness. Watery, wavery, they bled color like the insides of a luminous oyster shell. [Didn't we do this in Chapter 1? What did I tell you about encouraging the emo kids?]
On my knees, I planted my face in his lap, suckling his thunderous cock [thunderous?] like it was the last nourishment on Earth to be had. Inside my mouth he felt bigger, he became more compact. [How is this possible?]
Long, lean, lithe, and lethal, Jasper went straight for my nipples with his sensational mouth and right for my cock with two handfuls! [Two handfuls of what? Lube?]
"Fuck me, Edward! You are so fucking stunning!" [Okay, I know this is m/m, but... "Sensational"? "Stunning"? Could Edward and Jasper try not to sound like a couple of West Hollywood clichés? I'm tempted to do a Ctrl + F for "fabulous" now.]
Our dicks tangled [prehensile vampire peens?] and our balls bounced into each other. [BOOOOOIIIIINNNNGGG!!]
...down to his cock that I soothed upward ["soothed"?] ...I spread the girth of his brawny thighs, chafing against the fine fired hairs and receptive insides of his legs. [This sentence is a pile of awkward that could have been hot in the hands of someone who actually knows how to write.]
I spread those sweet orbs and dipped my cock to his entrance, sketching my drenched head just in and just out. I doused him with my fallow seed that larked out. [I didn't know that pre-cum could frolic and cavort. Also, is "fallow" meant to signify the light-brown color of a deer, which sounds even more worrisome than yellow glycerin jizz? Or does it refer to infertility, which is an odd thing to mention in an m/m fic?]
I dashed out of him and pillaged straight back in. [Yo ho ho and a bottle of blood.]
I stroked his thighs as I plied into him with durable, inflexible, sure drives! [I...does anyone else picture Edward shoving external hard drives up Jasper's ass? Is it just me? Yeah, I thought so. Thanks.]
So tight, like a punishing clasp [OWWWW] that ridged the base of my cock once fully inside. ... He was hot! How could Jasper feel so fucking on fire? [We call that "body heat" here on Planet Can String A Decent Sentence Together, GM. In the case of vampires, we could call that "frostbite," I guess....]
Storm clouds clashing and billows of gasps, grunts. Cold fire, glacial embers, snowy draughts of breath in severe gusts like arctic breezes across the frozen tundra of chests, hips, balls, cocks. Baking scorching desert sun that was soaking fucking wet! [A high-pressure system moving up from the Tropic of Scrotum. A 90% chance of sudden spooge showers.]
Ceasing, this fucking close to caving to pure instinct, I looked Jasper in the eye. A question. At his simple nod and the giant lunge he beat up into me [I'm now even wondering if Goldenmeadow is ESL, although I still wouldn't feel bad about making fun of this story], I gave over to animalistic impulse.
...So immense were my thrusts that a human would have been halved in two. [MONSTER!! COCK!! RALLY!!] Impressive wild force, the hard slap of his cock against his stomach implored me on [Jasper's gonna have a big bruise on his stomach in the morning]; the vessels in his engorged shaft were blue fjords [for which Edward was pining, I guess, being an ex-human] lifting poison higher and higher to the surface, dropping tendrils of cum to his abdomen where the liquid streamed into the ligature of fleshly valleys. [If his abdomen is as flat as a mizzenmast, what valleys are we talking about here?]
Intensity, insanity! [Idiocy! Imbecility! Incoherency!]
Two enormous shoves in, two pulls up his cock that was now stuffed and purple... [Taxidermy is not something one wishes to bring to mind in a slashfic. Well, most slashfics.]
Jasper sat ramrod straight as his cock erupted like Vesuvius with the matter of his cum. Those arduous [wrooooonnnng wooooorrrrd!!!] arms of his wrapped around me and our nipples met [snicker], our lips opened over screams...
We nuzzled sacs and starved over the tiny causeways from root base to ass... [I thought you said in Ch. 1 that there was just one causeway? Has there been a perineal highway project with, heh, stimulus spending in Volterra since then? Also, how can they be starving over them if they've got their mouths full of them?]
Fluttering the tip of my tongue into his welling slit and down to his crushed crepe frenulum, I snacked. [OM NOM NOM.] ...his balls now hard lush figs of ruched flesh. [If they're hard, wouldn't all the wrinkles be smoothed out? Also, are you going to describe the nap on his ballsack, too? What about the French curve of his dick? And does his foreskin have an Empire waist?]
On our sides, with one hand bearing my shaking, straining head aloft, and the other reaching forward to tenderly bottomline my dick [...no] ...he swept in and out.
Ever soft like the feather-tipped brush of quills, quivering inside of me. [Jasper was fucking Edward with a soft-on?] He hit my prostate and made me whine out! [Nobody has to make Edward whine.] I jacked up in front of him as he kept on, and it wasn't hard or hurtful. [What is this, I don't even.]
Jasper sank deep inside of me and jilted from side to side, spraying his flume... [Someone on WC already said, "If you're 'jilted', that means your lover BROKE IT OFF. OWWWWWW." As for "flume," I picture a 100' statue of a naked vampire at a water park, with a stream of water pouring out of his hollow cock.]
Unlocked.
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