#john and bryn

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Nine.

A warm, heartfelt thank you to my readers for your continued engagement :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,140

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“And so, I says to this fella, I says, right, listen here, mate! Any more out of you and you’ll be shitting your bloody teeth for a week, and you’ll never believe what he says to me, John. I tell ya now, you’ll never believe it, son. He stands there, right, fag dangling from his mouth, and he says to me...” 

John didn’t give a damn what the fellow in question had said as they stood guarding the front gates of Bryn’s home, gladly watching the sun beginning to sink in the sky. From the first moment, he’d asked Tommy never to pair him with Mickey Two Suits, begged him, in fact, and what had his brother done?  

…"so, there we are, right, having a scrap about it and then suddenly, this fucking umbrella comes flying out of nowhere! And it’s only the fella’s old dear, ain’t it, giving him a clobbering and dragging him home by his ear! I says to our Wilf, I says ‘eh, look at that! Thinks he’s hard enough to have a go at a Blinder and it’s his mom who has to run in and save his arse!’ What a night, John. Ya should have been there!” 

“Mickey...” 

“...and we went had a good ole’ knees up after, we did. Drank the Red Lion right out of whiskey that night, and you ain’t heard the best part yet, pal!” 

“Mickey, will...” 

“So, the landlord has this great, big Irish Wolfhound, right, and this group of lads are...” 

“Two Suits! Holy fucking shit, will you shut up!” John’s exasperated tones matched his wide eyes, shaking his head. “Christ you don’t half yammer on, mate!” 

Mickey pinked at the cheeks a little to have been – although lightly – admonished by one of his bosses, muttering his apologies and lighting a cigarette. He lasted all of twenty seconds. 

“So, we off for a few Christmas Eve drinks up the pub once your lady wakes up? Christmas Eve at The Garrison, ain’t nothing like it, is there? Do you remember that one year when... bloody hell!” 

This time, though, Mickey’s no doubt lengthy spiel was interrupted by a sight that made John’s heart flutter, Bryn suddenly appearing before them. “No, Mickey. John and I are to depart for Warwickshire, to a party hosted by Tommy and the lovely Grace.”  

John had wondered how well Grace would take to Bryn, but after introducing them for the first time just three days before, he’d found the women had a very natural chemistry with one another. He was also pleased – for Tommy more than himself – that it had encouraged Polly to warm towards his soon-to-be sister-in-law a little more as well, since he and Grace were to be married in the New Year.  

His aunt was not quick to warm to any women who came into the lives of her beloved nephews, especially not if she had good reason not to trust them, just as she’d had with both Grace and Bryn. For the latter, though, it had melted as soon as she’d seen something of herself within his ancient vampire lover, a woman who’d had her children torn from her, a woman whose pain she understood all too well.  

Leaving Mickey to trudge down to the bus stop and travel back to Small Heath, John and Bryn went inside, the former pouring himself a whiskey while Bryn readied herself for the evening. She was affixing tiny little pearl adorned pins into her hair when he ventured into the bedroom, kissing her bare shoulder as she sat at her vanity.  

“I thought you lot weren’t meant have a reflection.” 

Him and that flipping novel he’d taken it upon himself to read. She rolled her eyes, turning to press her lips to his cheek. “Not everything Bram Stoker claims about us is true, you know.” Picking up her perfume, she spritzed herself liberally, the scent misting over her pale skin. “Although I must confess, being able to turn myself into a bat would be useful. If for nothing else than to retreat from awkward social situations.” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, swirling the amber contents of his glass, “don’t think I’d fancy you half as much as a flying rodent. Maybe a bit still, like, but not as much as usual.”  

Her look of incredulity had him tipping his head back, his laughter filling the room. “You are disgusting, John Shelby!” 

“Still laughing though, ain’t ya!” Indeed, she was. His uncouthness, lack of filter and penchant for being completely inappropriate never ceased to entertain her. Truly, she had never met anybody like her darling John. She shook her head, picking up her kohl pencil and beginning to smoke her eyes sultry black. A little mascara and a twist of rouge to her cheeks and she was finished, speedily packing the rest of what she needed for their stay at Arrow House and whizzing down to the car to place her cases in, John going to ready Katie.  

The child had been spending more time with him at Bryn’s since school had finished for Christmas, being cared for during the day by Bettie until Bryn awoke and spent time with her before bed. It had warmed his heart hugely to witness their bond forming, Katie furnishing the Christmas tree with her help, overhearing the bedtime stories his love would recite to her, the old Norse sagas his daughter loved to hear. Katie’s bedtime upon their arrival at Tommy’s house was no different. 

“The crow went flying toward the North, croaking as she flew, “Let Hela keep what she holds. Let Hela keep what she holds.” That crow was the hag Thaukt transformed, and the hag Thaukt was Loki. 

“He flew to the north and came into the wastes of Jötunheim. As a crow he lived there, hiding himself from the wrath of the Gods. He told the giants that the time had come for them to build the ship Naglfar, the ship that was to be built out of the nails of dead men, and that was to sail to Asgard on the day of Ragnarök with the giant Hrymer steering it...” 

Standing in silent watch through the crack in the door, John smiled widely as Bryn recited a fairytale about Loki, Norse god of mischief to his spellbound daughter, the covers pulled up to her chin, Bryn’s hands gesturing as she spoke of the tale. At her core, she was such a natural mother, something within her so strongly maternal. The thought had never crossed his mind back when he’d first begun his courtship with her, but truly, she was everything Katie needed. 

She was everything he needed, too.  

“Now that’s a look of love if ever I saw one.” 

At hearing Polly’s whisper, he turned, grin still fixed firmly in place as his cheeks coloured a little bit at being caught staring so adoringly at the scene. “She’s only known her just under three weeks and she dotes on that little girl as if she were her own.” Walking away from the bedroom, he pulled a cigarette out, lighting up. “Ain’t what you thought she was, is she?”  

Polly lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “I don’t like to concede, but you’re right. She isn’t. Brynhild has surprised me with her nature. I never forget what she is, but I’m getting to know that what she is isn’t all she is.” Reaching for his face, she stroked his cheek, laying a pecked kiss upon the other. “I’m pleased for you, love. You look very happy.”  

He smiled again, his handsome features lighting up the dim glow coming from the bedroom. “I am, Pol. Might not have been long, but I am.”  

“Come on.” Opening her arm, she draped it around his shoulders, steering him down the corridor in the direction of the stairs. “Let’s go get drunk and eat too much food, have a good ole’ knees up.”  

Walking down into the throng of people milling around the welcome hall, the mix of guests were mostly business, both legitimate and not so, family and friends, servers carrying trays of drinks and food, the laughter and chatter filling the spruce-scented air. John was just reaching for a whiskey when he felt a cool hand slip into his, Bryn arriving with him, taking a champagne flute from a passing member of the wait staff.  

“How does it feel?” 

“How does what feel, my darling?” she asked, pressing herself close to him as he released her hand, wrapping an arm around her instead. 

“To be the most beautiful woman in the room?”  

She sipped her champagne, eyeing him with a twinkle there in the hypnotic blue of her irises. “Oh, you presume yourself to be so very charming!” 

His smirk widened. “Are you charmed?” 

“I am,” she hummed. 

“Then I’m fucking charming.” He kissed her head, his arm tightening around her. “Tell me about what underwear you’ve got on under that dress.” 

“You know my thoughts towards underwear, my love,” she purred, kissing his cheek as they moved through the guests. “I don’t like anything that gets in the way of your mouth.”  

A bolt shot through him, John closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them, he pulled himself back from the haze of lust to be greeted by an oncoming business associate, fellow bookmaker Kenneth Thompson.  

“John! Good evening to you and your fine lady, here! How are you keeping?”  

While he and her love got into conversation about the next race meets of the New Year, Bryn found herself beckoned over by Grace and Polly, gliding over through the throng of guests. It was as a young server passed her by that she caught the faintest whiff of it, a smell her nose never failed to detect. Her eyes snapped to the back of the redheaded girl’s neatly pinned tresses, watching her move from guest to guest.  

“You’re on alert,” Polly noted when she arrived with them, seeing how Bryn suddenly appeared much less casual in demeanour. “What is it?” Although not knowing her for long, she’d familiarised herself with how the vampire carried herself, the minute changes within her normally quite stoic disposition. Polly Gray well understood when it paid to be observant.  

“That girl,” Bryn began, pointing with her champagne flute. “Grace, how new is she within your employment? Also, is she local?” 

“Very new,” she confirmed, her eyes following the cold, hard stare of her vampire friend’s eyes. “Everybody is, though. With us only officially moving in recently, the staff were hired just over a week ago. As for where she’s from, Tyneside according to her references. Why do you ask?”  

“Thought I recognised her locally. I must be mistaken.” she lied, giving Polly a look that she read instantly. Tommy hadn’t filled in Grace over everything regarding Bryn, other than to obviously keep what she was well under her hat. Initially, she hadn’t believed him at all, laughing away under the impression that he was having her on upon their first meet. When Bryn had proved it by popping her fangs, she’d almost fallen out of her chair. 

With Grace called away to continue playing gracious hostess, Polly moved Bryn into the corner of the room away from earshot of the other partygoers. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“That girl,” she began, her eyes flitting away to follow her before they snapped back to Polly. “She does not bathe often, for not only do I detect a fine scent of body odour, but I also smell Rasmussen on her. It is faint, but present.”  

“You’re fucking joking me,” she hissed, eyes scanning the room. “I’ll get John and Tommy, let’s get this sorted.” 

Immediately, Bryn gripped her arm. “No, no, Polly. We need not involve the men just yet. Let me watch her. Act as you normally would, begin to laugh at everything I’m saying.” 

Polly’s faux, yet believable chuckle filled the air, Bryn affixing a huge smile to her face before launching into a real story, all the while watching the girl as she flitted from guest to guest. For all intents and purposes, they were having a wonderful Christmas Eve, with no suspicions over any infiltration to their circle.  

Every so often, the serving girl’s eyes would find Bryn, studying her in confirmation of this, the vampire feeling her entire being hum on high alert. As soon as she exited the welcome hall, Bryn moved to follow her, ducking speedily into the shadows as she stalked her, the girl looking as if she was heading back down to the kitchen.  

There was a pantry just to the side of the grand kitchen, a designated space where the butler would keep track of the household provisions at a small desk and put in the orders at the grocery, baker and butcher on a twice-weekly basis, Bryn remaining concealed from sight as the girl quietly made her way inside. She was just about to enter after her when John and Polly appeared.  

“Oi, don’t you look at me like that, Brynhild,” Polly whispered sternly, noting the displeasure she was viewed with. “Wasn’t me who said anything.”  

“She’s right, love” John spoke, touching a hand to her shoulder. “It was me who felt it.” 

Of course, he would. John Shelby had so much of her blood travelling through his veins at that point, he might as well have called himself Brynhild Mark Two. Holding a finger to her lips, Bryn listened, hearing the serving girl make her request to the telephone exchange. Rasmussen.  

Bingo.  

“Mr Rasmussen, I hope I am not disturbing you.”  

Before John or Polly knew it, Bryn was gone from before them, the butler’s pantry door flung open, both striding in to find the telephone cable pulled from the socket and a snarling Bryn pressing the girl down onto the desk by her throat.  

“How much did he pay you to infiltrate?” she growled, her fangs bared, the girl shaking in fright as she found herself at the very wrong end of a powerful vampire’s temper.  

“I-I d-d-don't know w-what you...” 

“Oh, bloody spare us!” Polly exclaimed, closing the door behind them. “You can’t fool a nose like hers. She smelled them on you.”  

“B-but I-I...” 

Bryn’s gripped tightened. “I said, how much, child?”  

“T-ten p-pounds.” 

A lot of money for a girl who she estimated likely earned less than a third of that a week. “I will pay you treble that to call him back right now and tell him that I am not among the Shelby family. For I know that is why you are here. As my friend just stated, I can smell them on you.” She shook her head, her nose crinkling. “Poor, unfortunate girl. Perhaps if you bathed more often, you might have been successful.”  

Nodding through her shakes, she felt on the verge of wetting her knickers in fear, watching the vampire as she looked to her companions. “Darling, plug the telephone back in.”  

John nodded, eyeing the girl with distaste, Bryn going into her small clutch bag and pulling out three ten-pound notes. “Here. I will pay you this to deliver the message. That is all you have to do. Do you understand?”  

“I-I do.” 

Bryn beamed, but her smile carried not a trace of warmth to it. “Good.”  

With the phone reconnected, the girl tucked her money into her neat little apron, taking the receiver and once again requesting the correct name to the exchange.  

“Helen, we were cut off before. Now, what do you have for us, pet?” Edward asked upon answering, the girl not able to drag her eyes away from Bryn, shaking with fright at the faint sound of her rumbling warning growl.  

“I’m afraid I have nothing.” She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “The woman you described is not within the guests. Just about everybody else notable is, but not any women with dark hair and a tattooed throat and chest, I’m afraid, sir.”  

“Stick around, she mightn't have arrived yet. Like we said, it might be another. Sounds daft, love, but look out for people who are paler than usual, and who don’t eat or drink with quite the same gusto as others do, like.” 

“Shall do, sir. I will report back tomorrow evening.” With that, the call ended, Helen finding herself on the receiving end of three very angry looking people. Well, only two were people. “What do I tell him tomorrow?” 

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything to do with vampires being around the family, tell him whatever the fuck you like,” John spoke, moving to impose himself before her, reaching into his pocket to pull out his knife. “And if you do fucking breathe a word about her to anyone, we will find out, and bab, you don’t want to know what I’ll fucking do to ya. We clear?” 

With a cold blade pressed against her cheek and the even colder glare of a vampire upon her, Helen nodded. “I shan’t say anything. I’ll just tell him there wasn’t any here. I promise, just please don’t hurt me.”  

Returning the knife to his pocket, he patted her cheek with his hand. “Good girl. Now, go up and pack your bags. Now.” 

“No.” Halting her with a splayed hand to her chest, Bryn stood in her path, shaking her head as she looked to John. “We must ensure she makes that call, John. If she doesn’t, then they will deduce that I am here and have dealt with her.” 

She was right. “What do you plan on doing to her?” 

Bryn pondered his statement for all of five seconds. “Fetch me some rope. We tie her to a chair in here and tell no one to enter. Then we come down here again at sundown tomorrow, let her make her call and escort her from the premises.” 

“And what the fuck are we meant to tell the serving staff, why they can’t come in here all of a sudden?” he asked, perplexed.  

Shaking her head in bafflement, a frown of light incredulity creased her forehead. “Darling, you run both legitimate and cooked books for a living; you’re better at mathematics than most of the fucking Arabs who created it. You’re also a goddamned Shelby, lying is in your nature. Do not tell me such mental calculus is beyond you.” Her eyebrows continued to rise, gesticulating wildly with her free hand. “Bloody make something up!”  

Polly couldn’t keep the smile from her face at how Bryn had both managed to praise and admonish him at the exact same time, especially watching John not know whether to be annoyed or enamoured by the crisply delivered statement from his lady. 

“I ain’t sure if I want to fuck you or slap you right now.”  

“I’ll let you do both later,” she winked, nodding towards the door. “Rope. Now.” As soon as he left the pantry, Polly was in soft fits.  

“Oh, my giddy aunt!” she snorted, lighting herself a cigarette while Bryn pushed a still terrified, but complacent Helen down into the wooden chair behind the desk. “Seeing you run circles around my bloody nephew like that is the only Christmas present I’ll need this year.”  

Bryn smirked, taking Helen’s hand and popping her fangs, forcing the young woman’s finger to her mouth and piercing the tip upon the point of one of those long, sharp teeth. Helen winced, Bryn licking the drop of blood that swelled forth. “There is my insurance, should stupidity and luck be on your side and mean you somehow escape. I will be able to find my way to you instantly.” 

With the way John bound her legs and arms to the chair upon his return, though, Bryn sorely doubted that Helen would be going anywhere, but took the phone with them just in case. “Please tell me that one day you shall delight my senses by tying me to the bed like that.”  

He paused upon the staircase, raising an eyebrow. “You could get out of it in about half a second, though.” 

“I could,” she purred, leaning close to flick her tongue against his earlobe, giving it a little nibble. “I wouldn’t attempt to, though.” 

“You,” he began, waving a finger at her, “you need to pack it in, you do. We’ve got to go fill Tommy in over all of this and you’ve bloody gone and gotten me at half-mast as it fucking is.” He nodded downwards, Bryn seeing the outline of his cock beginning to tent his trousers, chuckling as she grinned.  

“Well, my, my.” Leaning close, she kissed him, her lips all fiery honey upon his. “It looks like something is looking up this evening after all.”  

Carrying on up the stairs, she left him standing there waiting to deflate again, shaking his head as he muttered. “Bloody insufferable temptress.”  

“I heard that.” 

“You were fucking meant to, bab!” he shouted, making the server passing him jump, John placing a reassuring hand to his shoulder as he grinned widely, the man continuing his trajectory. “God, I love that woman.” 

As she stepped back into the throng of the party, Bryn heard that, too. She would never tire of it either, slipping her hand into his when he joined her after a few moments, fully calmed in the trouser department as they walked over to where Polly waited for them, opening the door to Tommy’s office.  

“Grace specifically told me no business tonight, so whatever this is, make it quick,” he spoke, taking a seat behind his desk, looking up to see Arthur enter the room, neatly closing the door behind him and shutting out the noise from the party.  

“Do not worry, Tommy. I have every intention of being perfectly concise so we may resume this wonderful evening you and Grace have put together for us,” Bryn began, Tommy nodding in acknowledgement of her praise, his eyes fixing upon her. “A spy sent by Edward Rasmussen infiltrated your serving staff. It was only because the dirty girl does not bathe quite as often as one should that I managed to smell their scent upon her, knew she had been close to them. 

“She was sent here to look for me specifically. I apprehended her with John and Polly prior to her delivering news to Edward himself, intercepted the phone call she was shortly to make, forcing her to tell him all was clear. He expects her to call in again tomorrow to confirm that no vampire fitting my image, or any other for that matter arrived here at Arrow House.” 

Arthur leaned around Polly, nodding to her. “You alright though, love? She ain’t burned you with no silver or nothing, has she?” 

Bryn was touched by his concern. “I am fine, dear Arthur. Trust and believe if she had of attempted to wound me, your brother would have likely acted swiftly.” 

“Wouldn’t fucking half have,” John muttered, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting up.  

Tommy digested her words, drawing idly upon his cigarette. “Which serving girl was it?” 

“Helen.” 

“And where is Helen now?” 

“Tied up in the butler’s pantry.” 

He rose to his feet. “Good enough, Brynhild.” Walking around the desk, he placed a hand to John’s shoulder as he passed. “Fits into our world just nicely does your lady, John boy. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” Opening his door, he gestured through the space, the noise of the merriment filling the air as his family filed back out. Bryn was the last to leave, Tommy halting her with a soft hand to her forearm.  

“I’ll leave it to your discretion, whether Helen actually leaves the grounds or not tomorrow,” he whispered, his stare so strong Bryn felt it boring into the back of her skull. “Either way, though, she is to be gone and kept quiet.” 

Bryn would not have survived for as long as she had, should she not have known well how to read between the lines. Smiling, she leaned to kiss Tommy’s cheek, gliding from the room to take another glass of champagne and slide in at her love’s side once more, the head of the family watching her as he closed the heavy office door behind him.  

In offering his protection to Bryn, he saw well how the alliance benefitted him from her being close to them. Literally being able to smell the faint trace of an enemy upon a person was a skill he wished he possessed, but did not need to now that he had the most powerful vampire in England close with his family.  

Tommy Shelby knew a valuable asset when he saw one. The fact that she made his younger brother the happiest looking man in the room didn’t hurt either.  

[darklydeliciousdesires]

OH MY GOD DARLING THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!! The images you chose, the colours, THE ACCOMPANYING TEXT that was like a fucking poem, how you captured them SO PERFECTLY! I can't wait for you to get into the story more and see for yourself what a bloody, flippin' fantastically good job you did at capturing them.

I am an emotional mess. I am squeaking. I am so, so, SO in love with this!

This is me, cuddling you. You babe xxx

𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓀’𝓈 𝒳𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎, 4th December

“In the midst of the fog she appeared, standing tall through Birmingham’s streets with a decapitated head in her slender hands and her blue eyes shining through the mist. All it took was one look into her soul for John’s heart to understand that it didn’t stand a chance. Every night after this first meeting, the betrothed young gangster dreamt about her, willing to welcome the darkness of her nature and the weight of her past just to feel her death-cold touch. Each thoughts of her made his appetizing blood pump faster in his veins, body temperature raising and heart racing — a dizzying cocktail her sharp senses couldn’t resist. Bryn stopped and wondered: was it John who had fallen first? Or was it her?” For @darklydeliciousdesires , based on Immortal Beloved.

To celebrate Christmas I’ve been using my free time lately to create 23 gifts that are already programmed, most of them for my beloved Peaky blinders mutuals. I’ll post one gift per day until Christmas, so stay tuned in because yours are coming. You just don’t know when! 🎄

[snootlestheangel]

She got ass, she got thigh, she got Captain Price on his knees begging for mercy

[flannelandcocoa]

[singeratlarge]

MONDAY MATINEE MUSIC VIDEO: “Hold On” by Rupert’s People https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYbrxbXH5bs. Rupert’s People was a “made in the studio” band formed around members of Fleur de Lys. In 1967, Rod Lynton was a “rising star” songwriter, so managers and record companies got behind him to record his songs by using bands-for-hire—in this case it was Fleur de Lys with Chris Andrews on lead vocals. To avoid confusion over the Fleur de Lys “brand,” the band re-named themselves “Rupert’s People.” “Hold On” was the B-side to the single Rupert’s People “Reflections on Charles Brown,” which received positive response in 10 countries. However, many said “Hold On” is the stronger track, amped up with muscular organ by Pete Solley (future sideman w/Eric Clapton, Al Stewart, Whitesnake, etc.) and edgy lead guitar by Phil Sawyer. The song was co-written with bassist Gordon Haskell (later of “Harry’s Bar” and King Crimson) and guitar hero Bryn Haworth (not credited on the record label). On a cosmic jukebox “Hold On” plays next to the soulful hard-edged blues-rock fusions of Spencer Davis Group, Pretty Things, and Brian Auger & The Trinity.

Lynton went on to collaborate with John Lennon, and Rupert’s People tracks have been reissued on soundtracks and compilations celebrating the best of 60s British rock. Fleur de Lys became a launching pad for several careers, with Chris Andrews going on as a solo act and collaborator with Roger Daltrey, David Essex, Davy Jones (Monkees), and other notables. This video was made in 2023 with remastered audio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYbrxbXH5bs

#chrisandrews #rupertspeople #charlesbrown #psychedelicrock #britishrock #classicrock #britpop #fleurdelys #rodlynton #johnlennon #brynhaworth #gordonhaskell #kingcrimson #spencerdavisgroup #prettythings #brianauger #rogerdaltrey #davidessex #davyjones #monkees #singersongwriter #bluesrock #britishinvasionrock #60srock

[darklydeliciousdesires]

My sweet Anna, you are so very, very talented. I love them so much, a thousand thank you's! <3 <3

@spaghettificationandpretzels @cillmequick @zablife @lovemissyhoneybee @chokeanddagger @daydreaming-belle @call-sign-shark @theesirenteller @newlibrary @babaohhhriley

Look how beautiful they are together, guys! Such an attractive couple.

JOLLY HOLIDAY EXCHANGE

Brynhild Leifsdottir & John Shelby for @darklydeliciousdesires

COLORING

I hope you like it!

[baronessblixen]

Saw this and thought it'd be right up your alley! :DDDD

Hollywood's "Fake" Mid-Atlantic Accent DEBUNKED! (youtube.com)

That was so interesting, thank you! I knew about the Mid-Atlantic accent, but I had no idea it was supposedly invented by Skinner and Tilly. I always thought it was used by people like Cary Grant cause they were torn between British and American English - and that isn't too far off from what the guy said 😂

[greenelectricsky]

First day of Cats 1998 Anniversary Celebration! I'm so happy! Today prompt: favourite actor.

And after first excitment I'm sad now. I don't have a fav! I don't know them personally, so I can't say "That one I like, that one don't". I love all of those wonderfull people, because they changed my life. Because of their hard, unusual work they together created somethin amazing, something... well, lifechanging. So, I want to say "Thank you! You are the best! I love you!" to all of them!

next>

[simulation-machine]

Okay, so the Strand save? Borked. So I am testing to see if I could just save the lot and the families (like maybe four total) associated with The Strands. A bit more play is required before I can determine it ~*~Officially Fixed~*~ but it’s looking promising so far! Maybe! AHH~!  And if I managed to save even just a bit of this family I am going to happy-cry FOR REAL.  Still going to go forwards with the idea of fast-forwarding Bryn and Syd to college but I wanted to do a like, montage of what their teen years were like.  Very, very tentative hope that I saved them! I don’t think I’ll do a legacy for them, maybe some short story snippets? I have ~*~ideas~*~.

[gifettosullaria]

Don Giovanni

Bryn Terfel, Renée Fleming, Ferruccio Furlanetto, Solveig Kringelborn, Paul Groves, Hei-Kyung Hong, John Relyea, Sergei Koptchak The Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus, James Levine Production by Franco Zeffirelli, 2000

Act 1 - E. Don Giovanni's ballroom - 2. Finale Act 1

Soon Zerlina scream is heard; Elvira, Anna and Ottavio, as well as Masetto, make to rescue her. Giovanni re-enters, dragging Leporello and denouncing him as the miscreant. No one, however, believe him, and Act 1 ends in confusion, with Elvira, Anna and Ottavio facing Giovanni and calling down vengeance upon him.

Index - Next Scene

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Eight.

The people have spoken, so the story returns! :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,833

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

It was a curious sight to witness, watching the stillness of the vampire roused so much that she began to breathe again, her chest heaving under the cream silk of her blouse, her eyes shut as her jaw tightened and relaxed.  

“When I was taken, there was nothing stopping them from finding my vampire children, those whom I had made, who resided with me,” she began, feeling a maelstrom of rage and grief swirl within her. “As a mother of a born son, trust me when I tell you that the bond between creator and offspring is just as strong and loving for vampires as it would be between children and parents linked via traditional, human familial blood bonds.” 

The tension in the air seemed to thicken from Bryn’s grief, John resting his hand upon her leg, squeezing her thigh supportively. He didn’t say a word, but she felt it in his blood, him assuring her that she was fine because he was right there beside her.  

“Without me there to offer protection, they hunted them down and eventually captured all three before bringing them to where they held me,” she continued, her voice pinched with emotion. 

“I thought you said you had two offspring?” John asked softly, a frown denting his forehead. 

She swallowed hard. “I do, darling. Alexander and Joy were made what they are after I escaped, so that is not counting...” Closing her eyes, they appeared before her, the sanguine of her tears pooling as she opened her eyes, bright blue tinged red. “Counting those three they slaughtered before my very eyes, simply because they could. Peter, Marcheline and Lucious.  

“To even speak their names brings me the greatest pain. I was their mother, the one who gave to them their immortality, and the one who had to watch their demise while bound in silver, their limbs torn off, liquid silver poured down their throats before finally, being slowly impaled upon silver spikes and left to suffer, then staked through their hearts.  This is why I am alone; I cannot have my children close to me, lest risk them be taken and used to make me surrender, and I will die my final death before I let those men harm what is mine ever, ever again.”  

Tommy and John’s eyes widened, but truly, the one stirred heaviest was the one other woman within the room who understood the pain of having children ripped from her loving arms. Polly felt her heartstrings yanked at, to hear not only that Bryn lost them, but that they’d been tortured and murdered right in front of her. And she hadn’t been able to save them. From one bereft mother to another, she understood completely. 

Any stiffness melted as she exited her seat, walking around the table and crouching beside her, pulling Bryn into her arms as she cried softly. “I know, love. I know what it is, the pain you carry. I lost my babies, too. One returned, the other sadly passed, so I understand your pain in part. Doing what they did to them right in front of you, though?” Her jaw tightened, stroking her back and hair comfortingly. “Those fucking bastards.”  

“Now you understand fully, I hope,” she sniffed, emerging from Polly’s embrace, taking the handkerchief given with thanks as she dabbed at her face.  

“I do, I really bloody do, Brynhild. Come on, let’s get you straight. I’ve pan stick and powder you can redo your face with. Crying is bad enough, but crying blood is a right mess.”  

Bryn chuckled softly, sniffing as she nodded and composed herself, turning when John gently pulled her into a hug.  

“I’m so fucking sorry you went through that, bab. Go get yourself sorted, alright?”  

She nodded, kissing his cheek before Polly guided her through the house and up to her room so she could fix her face.  

“I didn’t think I’d ever see it, emotions so raw in a shadow walker,” Tommy stated, just as the front door opening signalled Arthur’s return. 

“She ain’t made of stone,” John said, shaking his head. “They feel things still. The older they get, the closer to their humanity they become again, as she told me.” His hand clenched into a fist, holding it against his mouth as his eyes narrowed. “If those fucking Rasmussen’s ever come near her, I’ll fucking do to them what they did to her bloody kids. I fucking swear I will.”  

“What did they do?” Arthur asked, seating himself again, reaching for the whiskey bottle. John’s explanation was paused by the reappearance of Polly and a freshly made-up Bryn, the former informing them that they would be up at The Garrison and to join them when they were ready.  

After their departure, John sat back and explained it all, watching his brother take it in, his eyes widening at various points.  

“Fucking hell,” Arthur sighed, running his hands over his hair. “No wonder then, that she sought us out to look after her when she’s asleep. A woman on her own like that, don’t matter does it, how strong she is. She’s vulnerable in the daytime. Poor bab, she’s had a bloody time of it, eh?”  

John was surprised to see Arthur soften his stance, but then again, he could never resist a damsel in distress. Even if by the fall of darkness, that damsel was the strongest apex predator on earth. “She ain’t like what we were told, or what we saw, is she?” 

“She can be,” John began, reaching for the whiskey glass Arthur slid across the table. He remembered back to the first night he’d met her, the way she’d so swiftly removed Samuel Rasmussen of his head. “When she has to be, she’s merciless. It’s how she was a human, too. A bloody Viking age Jarl, eventually, led men into battle, fought alongside ‘em. Never lost either. She was fucking hard as nails. As a vampire, she then spent hundreds of years being young and savage, but she ain’t like that no more. Not unless someone gives her reason to be.”  

“I bet you learned a whole lot over the last four days, didn’t you? With nowhere to go and not much to do,” Tommy then spoke.  

He didn’t notice it at first, the slight amusement in his voice, John looking up to catch Tommy’s expression. “Ahh, fuck off!”  

“So then,” he began, clearing his throat as a smile played his lips. “How was it?”  

John was somewhere between amusement at the curiosity within his second eldest brother’s face, and entertainment at the look of mild repulsion on Arthur’s. He might have softened a little to Bryn, but perhaps not so much that he could understand why John desired her as heavily as he did. Closing his eyes momentarily, the nights – and mornings - of heated ecstasy with his love flashed through his memories, a filthy chuckle filling the space as his grin widened. “Fang-tastic.” 

Tommy snorted a quiet laugh, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “Oh, god.” He’d asked, he supposed. Trust John to give such a reply. 

“You didn’t?” Arthur spat, straightening in his seat. “You let her bite you?” 

His grin carried with it all the smugness of a man who had experienced the best sex of his life, John reaching for his whiskey. “I did.” 

“And it didn’t hurt ya?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, sipping his drink. “Stung a bit, but she was doing something else to me at the time that felt even better.”  

“Jesus wept!”  

Tommy and John exchanged glances, their laughter beginning to escalate at Arthur’s horror over the whole thing. “But... but she’s all cold! And dead!” 

“They warm up,” John revealed, snorting with laughter again. “And she wasn’t acting very dead from where I was sitting, I can tell you.”  

“That’s bloody disgusting, John boy!” 

He continued to revel in the reactions he was being met with. “Don’t be a prude, Arthur. I thought you were alright with her now?” 

“Yeah, I mean she seems alright, like. A nice lady, I suppose, but... no. I couldn’t. No. It ain’t natural.” 

“Sex is perhaps the most natural thing in the world, Arthur,” Tommy chimed, John raising an eyebrow. 

“She can hear every word you’re saying too, you know.” 

The eldest Shelby’s face was a picture of confusion. “How? She’s in the bloody Garrison!” 

“Bryn? Come here, love,” he spoke quietly, waiting. 

Two blinks passed, and suddenly there she stood. 

“Is everything well?” she asked, resting her hand to John’s shoulder.  

“Ar, just proving a point.” Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles. “We’ll be along just now.” 

She smiled fondly at him, squeezing his fingers. “Okay, I shall wait.” Her eyes then moved to Arthur, her smile widening. “Every word.” With a wink, she was gone, Arthur feeling his cheeks tingle. They stayed only to work out the finer details of their new alliance, John of course pledging himself forward to be on the roster of protective presences at Georgian House.  

“I can't have you there all the time, John boy, but I do see the sense in it since you’re likely to be spending a lot more time in Little Aston,” Tommy began, lighting a cigarette. “You and Isiah, I’ll see if I can persuade Johnny Dogs to put his feelings aside and he can pair with you, Arthur. Then I’ll get Christopher and Mickey Two Suits on the third rotation.”  

The latter of the Peaky Blinders were relatively new members of the gang, men whose father’s had known the family well for years. “Fucks sake, don’t ever put me on with Two Suits, Tommy! He could talk the legs off a bloody chair, that lad.” Indeed, the man with the monicker that suggested such only owned two suits, as well as a predisposition for never shutting up. Ever. To coin him a chatterbox would have done a disservice to those who enjoyed the art of conversing.  

While the Shelby men were hashing out the finer details of their new bodyguarding enterprise, an entirely different crime family were gathering their own information. Information relating to the same woman.  

Patrick Rasmussen straightened the papers in his hands, reaching out to knock upon the office door before him.  

“Yes?” his father called from behind the heavy, oak door. Turning in his seat, he saw his now eldest son enter, who had been the second up until recently. Up until his beloved Samuel’s headless body had been found down in Birmingham.  

A tragic accident involving an out-of-control automobile, the police and coroner had chalked it up to. It was no such thing, and he knew it. Of course, those who has spun the lie happened to be on the payroll of the very criminal outfit that he, Edward Rasmussen, was attempting to prevent striking foot in the north. Edward was biding his time there, preparing to strike back against the Peaky Blinders when they least expected it. “Got anything for me, lad?” 

“Aye, I have, like.” Proffering the papers forth, he watched his father take his spectacles from his breast pocket, placing them on to read the information that had come from New York. “The house our fellas in Manhattan managed to track her to is still being heavily guarded. Couple of the Genovese family lads are out on the doors all day, heavily armed. The house in Cologne she was residing at for a brief period has sat empty since summer, and her flat in Moscow shows no signs of residence either. The guards there moved off the doors eight weeks ago.” 

“She’s moving around more,” Edward mumbled, looking at the photographs before him, reading the papers that tracked the movements of the vampire, the elusive woman who for centuries had appeared only to vanish again as his ancestors had hunted her. “Fucking clever lass. Never stays in one place for long. I’ll not be wanting a bloody war with the Sicilian lads either, and she fucking well knows it, she does.” 

His hand pounded the papers to the desk, his knuckles flexing as he rested a closed fist to his mouth, thinking.  

“What are you proposing, dad? You want us to go over there with a few lads, have a chat with the Genovese’s, offer ‘em more than what she’s paying to give her up? You could call ‘em now, like, couldn’t you?” 

Edward waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. “I can’t do nothing tonight, son. My first priority is getting your mam up the church to see Samuel before the service come tomorrow.” As their Catholic faith dictated, Samuel’s body was welcomed into the church the night before his funeral, the Rasmussen’s all attending mass that evening. 

Open coffin funerals were not common in England, but Edward had paid the undertaker handsomely to prepare his son’s body to a fitting state, all so his mother could see her first born one last time. To say his beloved Kitty had howled with grief when he’d had to tell her the news would have been an understatement. To also deliver that three of her nephew's had perished too had not helped matters either.  

Leaving the office, the men moved downstairs to where their family sat in wait, ready to board the cars that would take them to Our Lady of Lima, ready to say goodbye to their precious Samuel. It burned through him again, the excuse given over his son’s demise as he took in his grief-stricken wife, Kitty pulling the elegant lace veil upon her hat down over her eyes.  

They were greeted by the priest upon arrival, condolences offered, a few other friends and family members within the walls of the holy building all giving the same.  

“Come on, pet,” Edward encouraged, his arm tightening around a distressed Kitty as he steered her down the aisle, “be strong for him now, eh love.” Seeing his son lying there, resplendent in his best suit, he felt his throat pinch tightly as Kitty collapsed at the edge of the coffin, her distressed cries echoing up through the high ceilings of the church. Her choked sobs sang a hymn of mourning for her first born, reaching to stroke his icy cheeks and well-groomed shock of black hair.  

“I love you, my Sammy. Oh, you have to know even in death how much mammy loves you.” Violence and bloodied endings were the way of their world, but it didn’t mean the wound of loss cut any shallower.  

As Kitty wept over her son’s cadaver, a million images of him as bonny little tot playing in her mind’s eye, Edward offered comfort, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. The undertaker had done a fabulous job preparing his body, the stitching only just visible above Samuel’s collar where his head had been reattached. Reaching for the well-starched white cotton, he made a move to pull it up a little further, and it was then that he saw the distinctive marks there just below the stitches.  

Puncture wounds.  

At just over an inch apart, there was only one creature on earth capable of inflicting such; the very creature he would hunt until his dying breath. His mind worked overtime as he escorted Kitty to a pew, sitting down, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she composed herself. Could it truly be her? For centuries, Brynhild had aligned herself with those of wealth and power for protection, kings, lords, gangsters. Who was to say that she would not do the same with his other arch nemeses?  

“Aye, looks like we’re in for another downpour, dad,” Patrick spoke to him as they exited the church after mass, pulling on his gloves as the snow tumbled thick from the northern sky. The roads had only just become drivable again that morning.  

Edward lifted his chin, watching the sky as it became littered by a flurry of white, his jaw tensing. “As soon as it clears, we put eyes on the Blinders. I just saw something on your brother’s neck that leads me to believe that Brynhild is in league with ‘em. But if it’s not her, I want it hunted and eradicated all the same.”  

Pulling his cigarette case out, he screwed one between his lips, leaning toward the light his son offered. “We will rid the people of this nation of the scourge that is vampires, lad. If I promise you nothing else, then I promise you that.” 

Meanwhile in Birmingham, where the snow had also begun to fall thickly again, the number one enemy of the Rasmussen’s was safely behind the walls of her opulent home with a fever of heat building at her apex. With her legs over his shoulders as he knelt before the settee, John watched her falling apart, the honey of her cunt saturating his thirsty tongue as he laved at her.  

Her hands went to his hair, combing through, fisting at the roots as her hips rose, a long sigh of gratification leaving her mouth as his sucked on her hungrily. She rocked against each burning lick, her clit pebbling as it was bathed in long, firm sweeps. The heat of his mouth drove cool fire through her veins, glimmers tingling up her spine as she cried out. 

His breath fluttered hot over her folds, John looking up at her with a wink as his hands teased goose bumps to prickle her thighs, Bryn utterly revelling in the heaven he conjured upon her with his mouth. 

“God, you taste almost as beautiful as you fucking look, sweetheart.” he rasped, voice deepened by lust, tongue flickering in a quick, firm beat over her clit. 

The pleasure took its root deep in her core, beginning to ascend like a creeping vine, her thighs shaking, torrid waves washing over her as she throbbed. Her arousal became edged in a little pain as she felt her walls widening, slick and ready for him, her breaths ragged. 

Emerging from between her legs, their combined effort pulled him from his clothes with the same haste he’d stripped hers with upon arriving back, John yanking her from the settee into his arms, moving to lay her upon the rug. He slid against the velvet of her folds, entering her fluidly, her legs bracketing his hips as they shared kisses full of sugary sin.  

He was immediately urgent and overwhelming within her, cock dragging her slick with heavy, rolling thrusts, the thick of his hardness making her simmer. Her veins flooded with biting, nerve ending sizzling pleasure, his teeth clamping upon her nipples in turn before his mouth found hers once more. 

“How dare you,” she panted, nuzzling him. He looked down at her in puzzlement, Bryn continuing as she stroked his handsome face. “How dare you be the first man in centuries to capture my heart as much as you have, John Shelby.”  

His smile broadened, kissing her softly. “All part of me charm.” She chuckled, and he kissed her again, looking into the glacial blue of her eyes, overcome by her entirely. “I didn’t know what love was, until I found you.”  

Bryn felt every last drop of that love in his kisses, the way his blood flared within her veins, clutching his body tightly as it moved in effortless sync with hers. There he was at last, the man she’d walked the earth for centuries in hopes to find, someone who was all hers, someone to take away the loneliness she’d felt without her offspring near to her.  

There he was.  

The gentleness in him subsided quickly, sensing her need, fury and instinct overtaking anything that bordered on contained. His own unrelenting desire to fuck her voraciously dragged him headlong into mindlessness, her nails tearing down his back, his teeth sharp at her throat in retaliation, eyes inky and pupils blown as he looked down at her.  

He filled her again and again in a greedy, pounding rhythm, her mouth dropped open, crying out with every pant. Sitting back on his heels, he pushed her legs apart, spreading her, watching the gloss of her arousal twinkling in the firelight upon his cock as he fucked her hard. 

Her body lurched with every determined daggering of his hips against hers, cock arrowing her keenly, her cunt glimmering as he drove skitters of caustic pleasure through her, his groans deep and soaked in lust. The little switches around his shaft had the coil within him tightening sharply, a blade of ecstasy cutting through him right to his very marrow. She was a molten, slick mess around him, the sound of his driving into the clutch of her cunt so savagely, the obscene noise of their fuck filled the room.  

Her shuddering body, jerking as her muscles corded and twitched beneath her tattooed skin was a feast for his eyes, pouring pleasure into her with boundless determination, leaning to kiss her with filthy indulgence. He locked his arms around her, pulling her up, holding her tightly to him as he bounced her on his cock, scattering kisses at her neck as he panted words of love.  

She felt delirious, those extra few inches of thick hardness speared into her, her nails dragging over his shoulders, her head thrown back as he bit crescents onto her neck, sucking welts, hands running up her back and grasping her shoulders. Pulling her down onto him further, until she was entirely full, his ears tingled with the screams of her ecstasy. To John, there was no sweeter sound in the world. 

The silken, slick throb of her walls in spasm around him began to pull it from him, a crest so acerbic he could barely hang onto it, the wild coursing of release. His chest heaved as he panted raggedly, Bryn feeling the glimmers streak through her like a hail of comets, pressed to him so tightly her clit rubbed deliciously against his pubic bone, that friction sending her further into the relentless abyss, her shattering closer, closer, closer… 

“Oh!” And there it was, the crest that rolled up like a dark wave, knocking her sideways, his teeth crushing her neck as he growled with each fervid twitch of his cock releasing into her, her nails removing his back of a layer of skin. It fizzed through them, right to their bones.  

The comedown was sweet and swirling, their bodies slowing to stop as they fought for air, Bryn resting her forehead to his as her breathing stilled to nothing once more, her fingertips stroking his face.   

“My love,” she purred, offering soft kisses, nuzzling him, her walls still fluttering pleasantly around his cock. “How well you always fuck me.” 

His grin broadened, as she knew it would. “I plan on doing it a few more times tonight an’ all.”  

She was always fond of such a pledge, even more so when he lived up to it until three o’ clock in the morning.  

[gotosleepmyman]

[darklydeliciousdesires]

ANNA!! I love them, I really, really do! Thank you so much!

Besties, look at these! My babes! Didn't Anna do a beautiful job? So amazing!

@spaghettificationandpretzels @cillmequick @zablife @lovemissyhoneybee @chokeanddagger @daydreaming-belle @call-sign-shark @theesirenteller @newlibrary @babaohhhriley

JOLLY HOLIDAY EXCHANGE

Brynhild Leifsdottir & John Shelby for @darklydeliciousdesires

I hope you like it!

[snootlestheangel]

Bryn: *existing*

Price: *look of longing and adoration*

Soap, Ghost, and Gaz: *understood shared look of operation "Get Price A Girlfriend" is a go*

Nik and Laswell get in on it

@stuffireadandenjoy @midnight193 @deeptrashwitch

[singeratlarge]

MONDAY MATINEE MUSIC VIDEO: “Hold On” by Rupert’s People https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYbrxbXH5bs. Rupert’s People was a “made in the studio” band formed around members of Fleur de Lys. In 1967, Rod Lynton was a rising songwriter, so managers and record companies got behind him to record his songs by using bands-for-hire—in this case it was Fleur de Lys with Chris Andrews on lead vocals. To avoid confusion over the Fleur de Lys “brand,” the band re-named themselves “Rupert’s People” to avoid confusion. “Hold On” was the B-side to the Rupert’s People “Reflections on Charles Brown,” a single issued to positive response in 10 countries. However, many said “Hold On” is the stronger track, amped up with muscular organ by Pete Solley (future sideman w/Eric Clapton, Al Stewart, Whitesnake, etc.) and edgy lead guitar by Phil Sawyer. The song was co-written with bassist Gordon Haskell (later of “Harry’s Bar” and King Crimson) and guitar hero Bryn Haworth (not credited on the record label). On a cosmic jukebox “Hold On” plays next to the soulful hard-edged blues-rock fusions of Spencer Davis Group, Pretty Things, and Brian Auger & The Trinity.

Lynton went on to collaborate with John Lennon, and Rupert’s People tracks have been reissued on soundtracks and compilations celebrating the best of 60s British rock. Fleur de Lys became a launching pad for several careers, with Chris Andrews going on as a solo act and collaborator with Roger Daltrey, David Essex, Davy Jones (Monkees), and other notables. This video was made in 2023 with remastered audio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYbrxbXH5bs

#chrisandrews #rupertspeople #charlesbrown #psychedelicrock #britishrock #classicrock #britpop #fleurdelys #rodlynton #johnlennon #brynhaworth #gordonhaskell #kingcrimson #spencerdavisgroup #prettythings #brianauger #rogerdaltrey #davidessex #davyjones #monkees #singersongwriter #bluesrock #britishinvasionrock #60srock

[disabled-dragoon]

The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz 

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

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With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

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