#you can be in denial if you want but he had a stronger bond with mythal over all

[inanshalla]

veilguard solavellan is also so boring like imagine building up this relationship for 10 years in your head after trespasser with the passionate glowy eye kiss, screaming after him that she’ll save him, solas being gentler to ease her pain as the mark is consuming her only to have the conclusion be solas mentioning lavellan once, lavellan’s entire character being about her love for someone who’s relationship with another woman is the plot of the whole sequel to the story they were a main character, and when it really came down to it, they weren’t even able to stop solas as it takes another woman to do it, a plain kiss and him not even asking her to come with him she has to insist and whatever trick weekes says after the game has already dropped is entirely irrelevant bc they did not make what he says clear in the game proper so it all seems like damage control

[thegnomelord]

Hi, I want to start off by asking how you are doing, and that I loved the monster task force 141 × reader fic and the cyber-punk sagau headcanon’s.

Ok, now into the ask. Can you do a smut fic with Childe where the reader is a sub top and Childe is a dom bottom where Childe whorships cyber-punk readers body running his hands all over readers joints which are bonded so reader can’t touch him while overstimulating and orgasm denying (is reader able to be overstimulated and have orgasm's... if not then forget about those 2 kinks.

Sorry for the long ask.

Kink list to make it clear:

- Body whorship

- Bondage

- Overstimulation?

- Orgasm denial?

Heck yeah my peep, I'm doing better, and it's great that you liked my other stuff, sorry it took this long, med school is a bitch. Hope ya like it:DD

P.S: ya'll are always free to ask me/give me ideas of what to write, i'm gonna be trying to write more from now on.

Pious Worship

CW: NSFW, body worship, bondage, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mild electro play?, SAGAU au! Cyberpunk reader!, Sub Top reader, Dom Bottom Childe, riding, Dom/Sub dynamics, Worshipper Childe, Bondage. NOT proof read lol.

It had taken you a long while to convince him to do this. For all of his devotion he had been... hesitant; To please you was the highest form of reward anyone could dream of receiving, but what you had asked of him felt wrong — the thought of binding you like the heathens who'd fallen for pretty lies made him physically sick, the thought of chaining you, his guide, his light, his Steel Forged God...he couldn't even come up with the proper words to describe the sickening disgust he'd felt in his very bones.

But you are his light, his guide, his merciful creator, so how could he possibly refuse?

Childe is insatiable.

He rides you with wild abandon like a beast in heat, too caught up in the desperate chase for release and the need to please you to care about the strain in his muscles or his burning thighs. He slams his entire body weight down on your cock, moaning and babbling about how perfectly you stretch him out, how you fill him up so perfectly he can feel you in his throat, how happy he is to be the one who pleases you like this.

His heart flutters as you watch him, drawing pleasure from his pleasure rather than from how tightly his body grips you, your arms tied above your head with the finest silk. The corp remade you for warfare, not pleasure. Steel is unfeeling, it can survive more than living flesh, and with your enhancements you barely feel anything besides the hot tightness of his body.

He drinks up the little rumbles of your synthetic voice box he manages to pull when he takes you fully, driving his body to bounce faster on you, racing towards his second release while you are nowhere near your first. He moans whorishly, his fingers dig into your shoulder joints, cock twitching as sperm and electro shoot from his body.

A strangled sound leaves your lips before your body shuts down without notice, voice box giving a mechanical screech as it glitches, every artificial muscle in your frame contracting from the sudden flood of electricity.

"My Grace! Are you- no, no, no, no- please don't be-”

You hear his worried whimpers when your audio receptors finally come back online, your optics shuttering open yet barely able to see anything with the sea of blinking warning screens in your view. You feel his calloused hands on your cheeks, the usually dull sensation now making you shudder as your combatting systems had turned every synthetic sensor up to 11.

“My Grace, please tell me you’re okay, please, I couldn’t have- I didn’t mean to- I-, I-, I-”

He hiccups, and you manage a glitched warble from your frazzled voice box as you assess your internal diagnostics— his electro delusion had shocked you enough to lock your joints in place without damaging the vital life support systems in your core. You should be able to move again when the electricity wears off, your body geared to survive stronger EMP bombs. You tell him such, reaffirming that he hadn't harmed you.

"Oh, my Grace, I am so sorry, please, forgive me!"

He says, tears prickling his eyes as he rises off your cock, pulling a surprised gasp from you when that small sensation nearly makes you cum on the spot, your cock — your whole body — sensitive to the smallest touch.

And Childe gets...giddy.

Not like a child with a new toy, but like Dottore when an experiment is successful.

Childe hung on every sound leaving you, eyes growing wide; Had you thought of this? Had you prepared just for this to happen? For his electro to make it easier to feel, to make it easier for him to worship you? Yes, that must be it!

“My Grace, you are beautiful like this. Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

His voice was a hoarse whisper as he slunk down your body, carefully holding up your leg with steady calloused hands. His lips are dry as he places reverent kisses the metal surrounding your exposed ankle joint. Your metal parts taste no different than the tips of his arrows, like blood and war, but the soft sounds you make from the odd sensation has him wanting to give more.

He doesn't even notice when he cuts his lip on a sharp edge, but aren't you proud of him? Who else would bleed for you like him? His tongue delves into tight little cracks between your pistons and wires where only the smallest of ripperdock tools had ever come. His tongue isn't as small, nor as precise, but the sheer eagerness in his movement has him touching and pressing on the sensitive sensors all the same.

You jolt, or you would if you could, overcome with sensations your body isn't built to process. More warning screens flash in your sight, static pleasure/pain buzzing along faux synapses. His heart all but leaps from his chest as he listens to the sounds you make.

So he redoubles his effort, clever little tongue licking at sensitive sensor arrays, mouthing and sucking on cables until soft frazzled sounds leave your glitched voice box. He can taste coolant on his tongue, his lips tingling with electricity, blood and spit mixing together in his mouth and making your metal parts glisten in the light. He polishes your ankle joint until it shines, before moving up towards your knee, tracing the edge where metal plates meet faux skin.

You're internal cooling system has started at this point, body shaking as best it can. Your sensors don't know how to interpret the sensations, corp augs having been geared for warfare and not worship, so the processors don't even try to categorize the new sensations into neat boxes. Instead you're hit with the full force of it, the feelings flooding your mind, zapping through every neural cell and artificial link.

He's at your hips now, eagerly sucking you off as his clever fingers busy themselves worming and rubbing delicate hardware and artificial ligaments beneath inside your hip joints. You feel like you're on the edge, your release so close you can feel it burning at the base of your cock.

But something is wrong, like a knot or a rock inside your stomach, something that's keeping you from cumming, forcing you to experience these overwhelming sensations. You sob, barely able to think, and his heart soars at making you feel this way, making you feel this pleasure.

He's quick to finish polishing your cock and even quicker to climb up and sink down again. But that only makes the maddening heat burning in your loins worse, every nerve in your augmented body feeling like it's on fire with no sight of release. You can barely see him through the cracks between different warning screens, sensor arrays screaming at you with information your body can't interpret any other way than pure sensation.

"Please, let me do this your Grace."

You watch — you can do nothing but watch — as he takes one of your limp arms. His muscles bulge beneath his skin as he has to work hard to move your arm now that your motors and pistons are momentarily inactive. He smiles at you, mouth opening wide before he puts your fingers in his mouth. Little jolts of sensation run through your body every time his tongue flicks between different joints, teeth scraping along faux skin and metal plates.

He continues to bounce on your cock, unaware of what blissful Hell he's making for you when he pulls your spit shined fingers from his mouth, urgently but carefully pawing at the plates which cover your hidden weaponry in your forearms.

"Your Grace, I'm a fool to demand this of you, but please, let me see them, let me worship you like you're supposed to be worshiped."

He says, eyes wide and pleading, laying desperate kisses at your wrist joint, lips almost burning from how hot your metal parts are becoming. He needs to worship you, all of you, especially the part you usually keep reserved for the battle field and nowhere else.

Your voice box is back online to the point where you can talk, and you know that if you told him, he would happily continue bouncing on your dick until you were finally able to cum, with all notions of his own need forgotten.

But you don't.

For as much as your systems may be screaming at you. For as much as your cooling systems struggle to keep you from overheating. For as much as you desire to cum... you want to please him — the first character you ever wished for, the first you ever mained, your favorite.

The look on his face when you manage to get your weaponry unlocked melts your heart despite the lustful heat in your chest. Your combat systems are blissfully unaware of your true intentions as they power on the pistons and gears in your weapons, making them extend to their proper configuration.

"Thank you, thank you your Grace!"

He breathes, immediately reaching out to trace the sharp points of your weapons with his tongue before he latches on the first joint that connects your weapon with your arm. It makes sensation, neither pain nor pleasure but pure feeling, rush from your arms right down to your dick still balls deep inside him.

Your vocal box glitches a second time, your head moving just an inch as you're subjected to his torturous worship again, and you can only pray that your body is able to move again before you loose your mind to the pure sensations.

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 3

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 3057

༺Masterlist༻

���A/N༻ I'm pretty happy with the way this one turned out! Hope you enjoy it.

Huge thanks to @leomonae for the fantastic beta work and for showing me the art of the semicolon.

Read on AO3

꧁༺Chapter 3 - Second, Thou Shalt Drink Blood as I Have Commanded ༻꧂

༺ Astarion brings Serafina a gift and the second of his rules is made clear to her.༻

How long Serafina had waited for Astarion to return, she couldn’t say. One day flowed into another, all of them soon becoming like one. The servants still came, to tend to her and their rooms, but they were always silent. The smell of living blood in their veins stirred the growing ache in her stomach, the feeling of emptiness. It never truly went away, even the Ascendant’s gifts couldn’t protect his spawn from that curse, but the denial of even a drop of animal blood turned the subtle burn into an inferno. And then the servants stopped coming, because Astarion knew, even in his absence, what was happening to her. Whatever he had planned, he wanted her hungry, and it seemed he didn’t want to risk her breaking before he was ready. 

Their rooms offered little entertainment to distract from the hunger. She could read from their private library, bathe, watch the streets of the Gate from her window, write letters to old companions – and wait for responses that had been increasingly sparse since they parted ways – but that was it. After a while, sleep became her favorite activity, her head too foggy for anything more involved. 

She spent unknown hours lying motionless among a sea of black silk sheets, staring at the tapestries and paintings that lined the walls: scenes Astarion’s defeat of Cazador, his ascension, the saving of Baldur’s Gate, and the day they claimed Szarr manor as their rightful home. And there she was, beside him through it all. His beloved. 

And then, the mental haze was erased in a moment when an envelope slid under her door one morning. “My Precious Treasure,” was written on it, in Astarion’s immaculate script. Despite the betrayal of her imprisonment, Serafina’s heart leapt. She’d known he wouldn’t abandon her entirely, but how long he would make her wait had been in question. Astarion had proven himself capable of the most stubborn grudge holding. 

Fingers hastily tore into it, yanking the letter free with ragged anticipation. The words adorning the parchment were a sliver of hope that she eagerly clung to. 

“Serafina, my beloved,

Tonight, I will come to you, and we will end this unpleasantness between us. Not having you in my arms every night has been a great suffering, but I know we will be stronger for this, our love deeper. Tonight I will come bearing a gift, and show you how strong my love for you is. 

Until then, my love,

Your Astarion”

Deep down, something within her recoiled at the happiness the words sparked. Something that remembered her past; something that had fought for her freedom, what seemed like a lifetime ago. Something that bristled at this gilded cage. 

How long had it been since the Netherbrain? Time was strange, as a vampire who spent most of her days in Astarion’s palace. Serafina tried to think back: it had undergone some of his grand renovation plans, and he had made two other spawn to assist with his aspirations among the city’s elite. Which suggested that it had been a few years, at least. 

Not that it mattered; she was where she had chosen to be. She had loved Astarion, and had tried to give him everything – for that matter, she loved him still. And he still loved her, Serafina knew, it was just… different, now. But even that too could change, the letter evidence he’d already begun to soften. 

With the new burst of energy brought by the letter and her anticipation of Astarion’s imminent return, the rest of the day was spent carefully readying herself. A bath with his favorite scents; hair left loose and flowing, so he could run his fingers through it. And a dress that was little more than a swath of crimson silk over the intimate parts of her body, to complete the image. The Ascendant’s consort; just the way he desired her. 

The sun was just setting when the door to the grand bedchamber opened. Her lord and lover entered; Sera had been seated in a plush chair near the fire, built up to blazing despite the warm weather with her body so cold from lack of blood these days, but a sharp burst of warmth shot through her at the sight of him. Dressed in black silk with fine gold embroidered details, Astarion looked more than regal: he looked divine. 

Serafina rose to greet him; the corners of her lips curled up into a smile. 

“My darling,” he purred, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply. “I’ve missed you so, my love.” 

“I was here, but you-” she started to protest; he gently placed a finger to her lips. 

“Shh, we can talk about all of that later. Let me give you your gift first.” 

Serafina nodded; there was nothing to be gained from spoiling his soft mood.

Arm still hooked around her waist, Astarion turned them both toward the door. “Enter, Navril.” 

Sera tensed against Astarion as a beautiful young elven man entered. Red hair cascaded down his back; his eyes were like liquid gold, as he gazed at Astarion with the besotted look she’d seen in others so often before. His sun-kissed skin glowed with the blush of life; he was vibrant and warm, and each beat of his heart sent a feast of blood pulsing through his veins. 

Her stomach clenched; she tried not to start salivating. 

“Command me, my lord,” Navril said, his voice airy and musical.

Rather than replying, Astarion looked over to Serafina, then nodded her over towards the young man.  A gift, he had said.

“What am I to do with him?” Serafina’s eyes dropped to the floor as she spoke; she could almost hear that blood singing to her. 

Astarion chuckled. “Let him pleasure you – well, us – of course.” 

A sharpened fang dug into her lip; she was so hungry. But doing what Astarion wanted would please him, and make their reunion easier. She could ask him for blood afterwards. And anyway, this wasn’t the first playmate he’d dragged to their bed. The first had been a plump little blonde human he’d tried to keep as a spawn. She’d met a stake one night in the castle gardens, when Serafina had found her there alone. Strangely, he’d seemed more proud than angry. But from then on, spawn were not for pleasure, and his toys always disappeared again after one night. 

“If you command it, my love.” She stepped away from Astarion and glanced Navril up and down before addressing him. “Disrobe. Let me see what my lord has brought to me.” 

Navril hesitated, looking between the two of them and seeming unsure. 

“You heard her,” Astarion said, tone cool. 

This time Navril listened,  his simple tunic and pants quickly discarded. His skin was free from anything that would mar it, suggesting the warm tone was gained through pleasure, not work, and the same for the softness of his body. Perhaps a man of learning, or the son of a noble? Not that it would matter, when Astarion was done with him. All that mattered in here was the cock between Navril’s legs, already stirring to life.

“Now, what ever should we do with him,” Astarion coaxed, leaning over to kiss and nibble at her neck. 

Serafina considered the question. Truthfully, the additions to their bed held little interest for her, but it pleased Astarion to have her participate. And there were ways to do that without her own direct involvement. 

“I want to watch him suck your cock.”

Her words earned a toothy smile from him, fangs flashing alluringly from between his lips; she had fallen in love with that smile once upon a time. “A delightful start.” He placed her hands on his trousers, a silent command for her to open them. 

Obeying, she took him in her hand, stroking with a light, teasing touch, before backing away to gesture to their guest. Navril obediently dropped to his knees, mouth opening to accept Astarion’s cock. He ran his tongue along the length and over the head, coating it in saliva, before taking it all the way inside. 

Astarion gave a muted groan. 

Sera settled herself on the bed, legs spread, watching the lewd spectacle Astarion was making of Navril. But it didn’t last long at all.

“Not one whiff of arousal from my treasure; you’re boring her,” Astarion snapped suddenly, and gripped Navril’s hair in unrelenting fingers. With a violent thrust, he plunged the length of himself into Navril’s throat. 

Serafina felt a pang of regret for the too-soon loss of Astarion’s softer manner, muted by relief she wasn’t on the receiving end of this mood swing. 

Navril gagged as Astarion roughly fucked his face, still snapping orders at him. “That’s it, make a show for her. This is all for her, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint my consort, would you Navril? ” 

All for her. That stirred her, and her hand drifted between her thighs. Astarion froze, pulling back from Navril’s lips, leaving the man to mop the tears from his face. 

“Your turn, my sweet Serafina.” Astarion stalked toward the bed, discarding clothing and boots in his wake. 

“Come here,” he ordered the waiting Navril, pointing to the spot on the ground between her legs. 

“Yes, my lord.” The man’s eyes were hazy and he spoke as though enthralled. Not an impossible prospect. 

When he rose to obey, Astarion stopped him with a noise of disapproval. “On your knees, lest you forget how far above you she is.”

Sera blushed at the praise as Astarion settled himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Kissing and nipping at her ear, he whispered gently, “You’re so beautiful when you get excited, my love.”

Pulling down the shoulders of her gown, he exposed her pale breasts and pebbled nipples to Navril. “Touch her,” Astarion’s velvet voice commanded. 

Kneeling between her legs, Navril reached for her to obey. Fingers traced over her skin gently, circling the sensitive buds; Astarion made a noise of impatience. His own elegant fingers came around to pinch and roll them instead, much more harshly. Serafina whimpered and squirmed against him, his growing hardness pressing against her backside. He always knew how to drive her mad. 

“Shh, pet, you’re going to have every pleasure soon enough.” He gave her nipples a rough tug that left them stinging. “Now keep your legs spread.”

Obediently, she left them open wide, as Astarion reached out and tugged Navril by his hair toward her waiting sex. And then the same tongue that had tasted her lover tasted her, too, dipping into her folds and exploring her. 

“Does she not have the sweetest taste?” Astarion asked. Not that Navril could reply, of course.

Little licks went from teasing her hole to caressing her wanting clit. Her hips rolled against Navril’s face as Astarion continued to hold him in place. Warmth was building inside her, and she began to lose herself in the euphoric sensations. 

“Do you think you can make her come?” Astarion said, almost taunting. His free hand cupped Sera's breast, abusing her sore nipple again.

Turning her head, she tried to bury her face in his neck as she whined. She felt Navril pick up the pace, sucking at her clit ravenously. “Astarion,” she moaned, pleading; Navril was but the tool, it was Astarion who dictated her pleasure. 

“Come my love.” Astarion’s hand slipped down to slide fingers inside her, while Navril continued to suckle at her most sensitive part. 

With all of Astarion’s attention on her, Serafina lost herself, whimpering and crying out. 

“Good pet,” he crooned, fingers still playing with her briefly before he withdrew them, then took his time to lick each one clean, the lewd, wet sounds echoing in her ear. “Lay back,” he commanded. 

Sera felt herself tense; she never liked having anyone else besides Astarion himself inside her like that. But he was in such a good mood today, even after the earlier threat that it might turn worse. So she let herself be guided down onto the mattress, as Astarion moved out from behind her and slid her back from the edge. The fabric of her dress fanned out around her as she laid back, barely clinging to her body. 

Astarion looked to Navril, who waited on his knees still. “Fuck her; take my little love to ecstasy.” 

Wasting no time, Navril scrambled onto the bed and settled himself between her thighs. Looking down at her with eyes hazy from lust, he leaned his head toward her lips. 

Astarion struck lightning fast, his hand cracking against Navril’s cheek. “Those are mine alone.” His words came on a low, dangerous growl, and Navril tensed for a second. “As you were.” 

Seemingly afraid to disappoint again, Navril slid himself inside her quickly. Sera silently thanked the gods she was already ready for him as his girth stretched her. This close, the scent of his blood was almost overpowering, her hunger no longer so easily forgotten in the chaos of Astarion’s game. She found herself salivating again as Navril moved inside her, her fangs almost aching. 

“Astarion, I can’t,” she whined, the pleasure between her legs background noise to her rising desire for Navril’s blood. 

Astarion answered her with a predatory smile. Moving with unnatural grace, he left from her side, positioning himself behind Navril. Peering over Navril’s shoulder, he locked eyes with her and brought two fingers to his mouth, sucking on them just enough to wet them. Eyes never leaving hers, his hand drifted downwards. 

Navril groaned; Sera almost pitied him. Pleasure was often short-lived, with Astarion. 

“So greedy for both of us.” Astarion's voice was silken and beguiling, a tone he'd used with her once long ago, in a hidden clearing in the woods. 

Gripping Navril’s hips, Astarion drove forward, and Navril yelped in pain. “Take what you want,” he ordered, thrusting into Navril, causing him to move inside Sera.

She rolled her hips into it and moaned. It felt sinfully delicious to be fucked with Navril’s cock by Astarion like this. 

“You like that, little love?” he teased. 

Navril’s face scrunched in pain when Astarion moved again, pushing him forward, drawing more sounds from Sera in the process. Loved, spoiled, treasured… only Astarion could make her feel this way. 

As Astarion picked up his rhythm, Navril flailed for purchase, hands coming to grip the sheets desperately as he tried to remain upright. He grunted, almost collapsing under the assault as Astarion leaned over him,hips pumping relentlessly. 

Sera ignored him, looking up past him to Astarion’s face, watching him chase his own release as the body he forced into her pushed her to her own. She was so close, and Astarion was fucking into Navril with reckless violence. 

“Please,” the elf between them whimpered. 

“I…” Sera breathed, her body contracting around Navril, banishing all thoughts. 

Time slowed; she watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s mouth moved toward Navril’s throat. A cruel motion wrenched his head to the side; predatory fangs tore into his flesh. 

A rain of red spattered against her skin, the scent making her stomach roil. “Astarion,” she whispered through the haze of lust and hunger. A satisfied smirk answered her before he leaned over to lap at the blood now dripping from Navril’s neck. A pained whimper escaped her and she felt her hands come to rest on Navril’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin. 

What little blood there was in her thundered in her veins, a noise to drown out Navril’s suffering. Her mouth salivated as the coppery tang of his blood consumed all her senses. She was so, so hungry, and a feast was spilling down onto her. Distantly, she heard her own protests in her mind, her horror at the urge for a thinking creature’s blood. 

She pulled Navril toward herself as his eyes widened in horror, no escape possible trapped between the two of them. Mouth opening, her tongue caressed his blood-slick skin, a taste like nothing else in the world sending a new kind of pleasure pulsing through her. Hands moving from shoulders to hair, she forced his neck to her waiting teeth, body and mind demanding she sate herself. 

The wound Astarion had opened allowed just enough to tease; she tore into it further, sucking at the sweet nectar released. 

“That’s it, my sweet love, drink your fill,” Astarion encouraged, watching her from above Navril’s shuddering form. 

With his blood flowing into her, she could hear Navril’s heart, hear how it grew weaker with every swallowed mouthful. Again, her mind railed: she was killing him, just as she said she would never do. But the taste was so luscious, and her stomach didn’t hurt for the first time in years. 

Navril made a horrible rattling sound; she felt the flow of blood slow, then stop. The warmth filling her mouth ebbed away, and sanity returned. Hands and teeth released him, but he remained slumped over her. Navril was dead. 

“Oh gods,” she said softly, awareness washing over her. “I - I…”

“You ate properly for the first time,” Astarion said, tone gentle, at least for the moment. “As you deserve.  As you’ve always deserved.”

Standing, he pulled Navril’s body off of her, casually discarding him onto the floor, his purpose served. He settled himself onto the sheets next to Sera and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, my love, taking care of yourself.” 

“But he, he was alive. And -” 

And she’d killed him. Murdered a thinking creature, a person, to quiet her own aching hunger. 

“Stop that,” Astarion responded sharply. “You’ve done what you needed to do. I don’t need you to backslide. I want my pretty little consort as healthy as she can be. I have great plans for the next few months, and you need to be fit to be by my side.” 

Fingers stroked her hair as he spoke, their gentleness in direct opposition to the demanding words. Astarion was happy with her, and she finally had peace from the awful hunger that haunted her. And so, resting her cheek against his chest, smearing gore from her face across that perfect ivory skin, she gave in. 

Even if she resisted, there was no doubt he would just find some other way to help her. 

[in-act-ive]

Soldier 76 x Grandson!Reader

Request : yes , " well, can i request platonic soldier76's reaction, that a newcomer!male!reader, who is kind and sometimes reckless, that is his grandson, and had to look after himself to early, like never got to know his parents nor relatives. And jack probably got the news from winston through a dna test " for @lufenianwol !

Type : headcanons

A / N : I hope this is what you wanted! I haven't written for him in AGES but it was fun to do it again!

To be honest when Jack first saw you he was a bit concerned by your reckless attitude

He really only liked you because their teammates seemed to enjoy your company

He kept his distance though

Jack felt weird about you but he couldn't place his finger on what made him feel off

Y / N asked Winston to run some DNA tests to find his family

Jack hadn't known about it until Winston told him the results

He was taken aback to say the least

You on the other hand really didn't seem to care. You we're really only looking for your parents and siblings if you had any

Jack was at first confused about this whole mess. Was it luck or was it someone playing a trick on him? Trying to makw him go soft?

Seeing Jack was ex - military and his relationship with TALON he felt off and was more distant than before

He avoided you like the plague

After the denial of everything he started to accept very slowly

Acceptance came with anger

'How could anyone do that to a child?' He'd asked Winston and Tracer multiple times

Slowly his anger did end up fading into nothing but loving dad energy

If you couldn't have a good dad he'd tried to fill the spot

Once Jack finally opened up to you and tried to have a relationship instead of just being a complete bitch and avoiding you and anything to deal with you he promises to protect you with his life

Jack lets you have the childhood you wished you could have had as a older teen / adult

He may be a little bit of a helicopter parent due to your dumbassary but he's trying to just be good enough

Once you do have a stronger bond he's very cheesy when you're alone or around teammates

He'd tease you about anyone you dare look at

Jack would also spoil you rotten

Anything you wanted, he was going to get you

Over all, he grows to love you like a son and supports you through everything

Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes

[freddie-77-ao3]

Help me choose a fic to work on:

(summaries below poll)

Gorgeous Girl, Goddess Girl, (Good Isn't All You Have Been)

Silena raises her head high as she dons Clarisse's armor. One way or another, it ends today.

She places the note on Drew's pillow, and then Clarisse's.

She steps in the chariot.

She dies.

~~~

Silena dies. These are her actions leading up to it.

___________________

Everything Is In Past Tense Now (You're All Gone)

("And Silena, she makes chocolates with her dad right before the start of summer, and she'll bring them in and they always taste awful 'cause she never makes them any other time, but everyone eats them, 'cause it's Silena. You'll love 'em though, 'cause Cecil always makes ice cream to go with the chocolate, and Malcolm and Beck'll make some baked goods." Chris sees Drew leave the room, Nyssa wipe away a tear, and Clarisse balling her hands into fists and whispering 'hero, hero, hero, she was a hero,' and he realizes his slip up.

Slip ups at camp fires where people don't quite seem dead. (Denial is much stronger than reality when we want it to be)

___________________

This Ship Can't Sink Until It Sails [Tales From The Argo II]

1-3: Piper & Percy prank Leo. Leo tries to rope in Jason & Frank, who can't prank. Meanwhile, Hazel & Annabeth have plans of their own.

4: Annabeth & Jason bond over Thalia, and telling stories about their time at the camps, and architecture after Kym.

5-6: HOH rescue. 7+Reyna/Nico play truth or dare & monopoly. Percy & Nico have just enough time to take Hazel&Jason out for burgers.

7: Jason & Nico talk more after Eros. Hazel & Piper bond.

8: The seven manage to get sick, and Hazel is introduced to Disney movies.

9/10: Coach Hedge & Percy have a bonding moment, & Percy IM's people at camp.

11-12: Coach Hedge's POV on each of the 7. Reyna&Nico&Hedge in Alberta and why it will NEVER be mentioned.

13: the aftermath of the ending of MOA.

14: The last day, the 7 play uno and write goodbye notes. Leo's funeral.

___________________

The Gods Watch From Their Heavens And Judge Us (But Their Sins Outnumber Ours)

Annabeth and Jason and Luke. Those are all the people that Thalia has cared about in her twelve short years. Jason is dead. Annabeth is screaming. Luke is sobbing.

Thalia has failed them all. 

Thalia's reflection on her life as she dies.

___________________

Before And After (Though We Often Wish It Hadn't)

There have been hundreds of events in her life that have a before and after. There was the before she ran away, and the after of Camp Half Blood. There was the before she met will, and the after: when she would do anything to protect him. Clarisse has had hundreds of befores and afters, but nothing quite like this. 

She didn’t think that there was an after to watching her siblings get consumed by the earth, screaming, while another watched. 

She doesn’t know how to cope with that after: a quieter cabin, unfinished bottles of hair solution, and unmade beds.

___________________

Where Our Lines Blur (Hold My Hand)

Connor Stoll likes Malcolm Pace. Malcolm Pace likes Connor Stoll. Seems simple, right? Even more so when they go out to eat together, alone, once a week? But no, it isn't, and Annabeth is going to lose her damn mind if this keeps up. Travis too.

So they drive the two out of camp until they confess, which leads to a day of disasters and disregarded laws including car theft and shoplifting, not to mention the fact that neither of them know how to drive or are of age for a license. 

And then they manage to go on a two person raid of a camp with 40 demigods in it, the two are forced to swear something on the River Styx, and it somehow isn't even the worst part of the day?

Travis and Annabeth aren't impressed.

___________________

Come Down The Floods (And Bathe In The Blood Of Gods)

Connor Stoll's morning starts like this: it's three twenty in the morning, and there is a ghost next to them. Drew is already up. There is a storm giant in battle against the gods, and they are in a war against Kronos. It is five days before the biggest battle of Connor's life, and in forty minutes, they'll be dancing on the table with their friends. 

ALT: Connor's perspective of the mission to blow up the Princess Andromeda, the day of Beckendorf's funeral, the three days of the Battle of Manhattan, and the funerals that come afterwards.

___________________

Hateful Heroes (Burdened With Bitterness)

(I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU-)

War. War and Death and Tragedy galore. Clarisse isn't mourning properly. Percy isn't either really, and it's of no surprise. (What teenagers are meant to mourn for the people who make up their entire world?) Clarisse starts a fist fight by the dying embers of Hestia's fire and Silena's shroud- but it won't bring her back. Percy stays awake at night watching blood arise from his skin- no amount of it is going to make up for the lives lost.

And then they break. It's not a surprise, but for Hestia who sits by the hearth as they scream? Her heart breaks.

(THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD DIED- DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? I WISH I HAD!- I WISH YOU HAD TOO! MAYBE SILENA WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!)

___________________

Tell Me I Can Live My Life (Don't Tell Me How To Live It)

The moment that Silena decides to become a spy for Kronos is the day that Drew breaks down in tears over her sexuality.

Drew wants to join the Hunters of Artemis, Aphrodite has a rule against that, and Mitchell tells horror stories about the rule.

___________________

So We Scream At The World (How Dare It Be Bright In Light Of Our Loss)

Will Solace is thirteen years old and ready to die. He's seen other people die, lots of them, and thinks that some of them didn't look like they were in pain, so really, how bad could it be? He's exhausted.

He is thirteen, and in charge of the infirmary. Usually it would be left to older kids, but he is the oldest. He's thirteen, and in charge of his siblings. Of making sure they don't die. He is not a leader, but he has been at camp the longest.

He just wants to sleep and never wake up. His family (because that is what they are, what they have become in this war) doesn't want to let him. (They want him to sleep, but they also want him to wake up.)

___________________

When All Your Fucking Dreams Are Dead

The Olympian dream is dead. Demigods pile up in bodies, and learn to fight monsters before they learn how to do addition- if they ever do learn either of those things, that is. Funny, right? They’re myths, they’re fairytales, it’s not like any parents would ever let their six year old fight monsters and take care of a toddler to survive, no, why the fuck would you think that? Fucking Olympian dream, folks. And hahaha, it’s all too funny, then you get to camp, you have no money, don’t even get your own clothes- no. Far to expensive when there’s two hundred children waiting for some food, and some bedding, and gods if someone else could just get a bed to sleep on, or even a place that wasn’t the floor- 

Has anyone considered that might have stopped the fucking war?

Or: time travel escapades lead Luke Castellan to be a little less bitter, and things- things go better- somewhat. 

Drew Tanaka, Connor Stoll, and Malcolm Pace travel back in time to just after Luke Castellan returns from his quest– Alone. 

___________________

Rewind, Rewind (I Remember That Night)

Characters reading the books fanfiction, will hopefully span from the start of PJO to the end of TOA. Minor character discrepancy.

"There's something worse coming. Isn't there? That's why we're here. Because something worse is going to happen-- again? You're doing this to us again? Three times. Three times we've fought for you-- when is it enough?" The figure still encloaked in shadows bitterly called towards the ceiling.

At once, like the hissing of snakes, like every sound in the world at once, the three fates rasped out, "Do not lecture us, child of the gods, of Athena and Hecate, this is the ONLY thing left..."

The figure did not recoil, and stood firm, "What is it this time? It was Kronos, then Gaea, then the emperors and Python... What's next? Ouranos? Khaos? What can't we recover from?" Behind him, the other campers whispered in shock and horror, but the boy didn't stop glaring at them.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

Oh, what can I say about Solomon? He's a massive bitch

Now, don't take that as me saying I dislike Sol, I think he's fun! The same way I think Assy's fun, which is why I think them having a pact works so well. Assy may have been attracted to his raw magical talent, but they're also just on the same wavelength ya know?

These two could gossip about RAD students for hours, all while doing a night routine or trying out a cute new cafe Assy just had to visit. They have a pact, sure, but I also think they're genuinely friends. As close to friends two heavily guarded bitches could be anyway. I think their bond would get even stronger with you around. You help lower their walls a touch and if you can get them down at the same time there's a real connection there

It does take work to get to that point though. Solomon is who-even-fucking-knows old, and in that time he's had roughly two options: humans who will inevitably die and leave him alone again, or demons who are almost always vying for his soul. What I'm saying is this man is trust issues. He swore off of actual love a long time ago, knowing it would only lead to heart break, or worse

And then he met you. You were weak, and scared, and alone in the Devildom. He didn't think you'd last a day, and once the 24 hour mark hit he only changed his estimation to a week. Once he heard you had made a pact with Mammon, oh

Oh now he's interested

He needs to know you, study you. From the side lines of course, but he needs to make sure you don't fuckin die on him before he gets what he wants. Which is answers! Of course, I mean, he hasn't had an itch to study someone like this in millennia but you were intriguing! A human that managed to make pacts with two high ranking demons in a week? How could he not be mesmerized-

Fascinated...fascinated is the word he meant to use while talking about you with Assy. The smug smile on the demon's face made his blood threaten to boil "I can't tell if you're in denial or just plain stupid hun" Assy sauntered off soon after, leaving him with a warning "You should try talking to them! Now that they've got Beel around their finger I can tell they're aiming to make pacts with all of us. You might wanna shoot your shot before a Mr. Morningstar takes a shine to them. Ciao~"

It all tips over at Diavolo's little get together, from his perspective anyhow. He takes great pains to make sure no one notices, but on the inside he's finally put the pieces together. It's why he lends you his power that night, he could tell you had serious magical potential. And seeing what lengths you've gone to already, he knows Assy's little impossible task wouldn't stop you. So he lends you some of his magic, a part of him hoping that once you had all the brothers under your thumb, this silly little crush of his would die out

But it never did. If anything it got worse. Passing you in the hall became a test of will, seeing at least one of your little boy toys hanging off of you like a leech at all times. Once he caught eyes with Belphie, the little shit grinned ear to ear as he yanked down the back of your uniform to kiss his pact mark while staring daggers at him. Was it a test? A threat? He didn't have time to tell as his magic kicked in on it's own, teleporting him to RAD's front lawn

Once the exchange program was almost up he was overjoyed! Finally, he'll get to have you all to himself! He can set up shop basically anywhere, so he made arrangements to stay near you once you got to go home. He even offered to let you stay with him if you'd like! I mean, at this point whatever family you had probably assumes you're dead right? Might as well make a clean break with him, yeah?

But then the day came, and nothing changed. Oh, you were back in the human world, sure. But you still had your D.D.D with you, and it was constantly going off. If he didn't know Diavolo would kill him for it he would have smashed that thing as soon as you got here. He needed some way to get the brothers off your dick so much, or at least get enough respect from them that he could have five fucking minutes alone with you

And that's when it came to him. Sure he was already planning on turning you immortal eventually so you could live along side him, but the brothers didn't have to know that. And what do you know, he didn't even have to suggest the idea himself! Turns out your mortality came up naturally during your trip back to the Devildom and some of the brothers wouldn't let it slide

He offers his help of course, but nothing is without it's price in this world. In return he demands their respect, and a set amount of time with you each week. It's nothing compared to the eternity they'll get to spend with you now, right? So...have we got a deal?

[morievna]

BSD Chapter 105.5 – how it fits in Dazai character arc

Hello~~

I am back to writing and analysing… and still blocking bots apparently xD

Honestly this chapter was perfection xD  it made me giggle so much xD

I must say that ‘Fyodor taunting Dazai that he would be better boyfriend partner for Chuuya’ was on my wishlist - so thank you Asagiri-sensei xD Peak drama romance xD now we wait for Dazai to prove himself to be worthy partner xD

Basically, shounen genre xD

Though I originally though that Arahabaki will be used to get out that flooding prison cell – this method was more fun as it looked so effortless xD But imo we will get Corruption eventually – it is just too important to Soukoku bond and it would be good opportunity to show Chuuya’s vampiric healing… and Chuuya tearing down Meursault would feel so cathartic to be honest. But we will see.

Okay, so in this post I want to focus on Dazai~~

We learnt that Dazai indeed don’t have manipulative intent towards Sigma *aww* 🥺 – he really just wants to save both Sigma and ADA – as per his way of life aka ‘being on beautiful side that saves people’

But… on the other hand it was shown that Dazai’s plan really was simply to drown Fyodor and Chuuya too as collateral damage… which is obviously not good XD though it can be reasoned that this way he would save more people this way – but it is still bad and shows his fixation on killing Fyodor. And it is especially bad if you consider it from symbolic perspective – after all Chuuya represents both humanity and past to Dazai. After all, he was one of the reasons why Dazai stayed in mafia in Fifteen LN and basically Chuuya evokes humanity and will to life in Dazai. So drowning Chuuya symbolizes repressing these aspect by Dazai. Like self-denial how much Chuuya means to him.

Still it is just step in character development —

Essentially, this arc is about Dazai getting consequences about his past life in PM and him trying to deal and fix some mistakes of that time and the way he left. It is like trying to accept the past and learn from it and trying to be better in the future.

It is important to remember that it wasn’t Dazai’s masterplan to get into Meursault – but it is the result of past coming back to him as his wrongdoings were revealed:

Basically Dazai lived trying to ignore his past and solely focus on working for ADA to save people. Ofc living in the present is not something bad, but outright trying to repress the past is not healthy thing to do.

This attitude was also shown in the hostile way Dazai treated people related to his past in Guild arc. For real he was so petty and mocking towards Akutagawa and Ango >_< and Chuuya too with how he had threated PM to get information… though it seems relatively small thing compared to getting Ango into hospital and his ill-meaning remarks to hurt Aku the most while he is the root cause of the latter insecurities.

But since Fitzgerald’s defeat Dazai is starting to treat them differently – he is more honest and sincere towards Ango and Akutagawa as he openly cooperates with them and explains his intentions. It especially means so much to Akutagawa as it is the recognition he always wanted from Dazai. Ofc it is not like all is perfect between them now, but it is surely step in right direction.

So logically, Chuuya is the next XD

From trope perspective – villain questioning protagonist bond with his friends/partner/etc is nothing new. It basically helps protag to be aware of their own flaws or insecurities and work on it, which results in bond growing stronger. I guess Soukoku will go that route too xD

After all Soukoku is no perfect – they need to work on better communication for sure. Also, it was established that Chuuya is feeling hurt that Dazai left mafia with no word – something that Fyodor could easily exploit - imo we will get payoff for that in the future.

Soo finally —

Honestly I don’t care who is gonna to win this Dazai vs Fyodor duel. All what matters to me is that I hope we will get good character development and satisfying conclusion. The rest is like details to me xD My rough guess is that Dazai will win to emphasis his growth, but hopefully Fyodor will be saved if Asagiri is aiming for plot beats from Crime and Punishment novel. Imo he does but I am not 100% sure, so we will see~~

Thank you for reading and have a nice day <3

[scart-t]

Tsundere Hearts: Unveiling Love's Charade

Scaramouche and Y/N had been inseparable online. Their virtual connection was filled with shared laughter, deep conversations, and a growing sense of affection. They had become so close that the desire to meet in person grew stronger with each passing day. But there was a catch—they lived miles apart, separated by a long-distance relationship.

After months of internal struggle, Scaramouche finally decided to take a leap of faith and visit Y/N in their hometown. Excitement and nervousness surged through Scaramouche's veins as he boarded the plane, his heart filled with anticipation.

As Scaramouche arrived at the airport, their tsundere nature took over, trying to hide their excitement. They spotted Y/N standing at the arrival gate, and a mix of annoyance and happiness crossed their face.

Scaramouche: (blushing and averting their gaze) It took you long enough to show up, Y/N. Don't think I'm thrilled to see you or anything.

Y/N: (smiling) Heh, you're still the same old Scaramouche. You don't fool me for a second.

They shared a playful banter, their words tinged with a hint of underlying affection. As they walked out of the airport, their conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it had online.

Y/N: So, what do you want to do first? I have a few places in mind that I think you'll tolerate.

Scaramouche: (crossing their arms) Hmph, as long as it's not something too boring. Lead the way, but don't expect me to enjoy it.

Over the next few days, Scaramouche and Y/N explored the city together, their tsundere interactions slowly giving way to genuine moments of connection. They laughed, shared meals at cozy cafes, and embarked on thrilling adventures, all the while pretending not to enjoy each other's company.

As their time together neared its end, a bittersweet realization settled in—they would soon return to their separate lives. But their connection had grown stronger, and their determination to make the long-distance relationship work was unwavering.

Scaramouche: (grumbling) I suppose this wasn't the worst time I've had. Don't get any weird ideas, though. I won't miss you too much.

Y/N: (smiling warmly) Right, Scaramouche. I won't miss you either. Just know that you've managed to charm your way into my heart, tsundere and all.

With a mix of blush and denial, Scaramouche and Y/N bid farewell at the airport, promising to maintain their connection through calls, messages, and the shared moments they treasured.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Through the challenges of distance, Scaramouche and Y/N persevered. They supported each other, shared their daily lives, and slowly let their guard down, revealing their true feelings beneath the tsundere façade.

The day finally arrived when Scaramouche stepped off the plane and into Y/N's waiting arms once again. This time, it was harder to hide their happiness. Their love had stood the test of time and distance, solidifying their bond even further.

Together, they embarked on a new chapter of their lives, cherishing every moment spent together and embracing the love that had blossomed beneath his tsundere exterior. They knew that, even with their occasional grumbling and denial, their connection was real and worth fighting for.

And so, Scaramouche and Y/N continued their journey, navigating the challenges of their long-distance relationship

Their story became a testament to the power of love, proving that even the most stubborn of hearts can open up and find happiness.

[relativelydefected]

It’s funny cause.. in my last post I said something to the effect of “Terminal is not a death sentence.”

Come to find out it really is..and I was just in denial.

My mom passed away on July 10, 2023 at 1:36pm at HopeHealth Holister Hospice.

She had metastatic non small cell lung cancer that spread to her brain.

I had always questioned whether it was breast or lung, as she had both at one time. But it was first breast that metastasized to lung and the death certificate officially ruled that it was the lung cancer in the end.

I don’t really know what made me come back to this.. tumblr account. I guess it’s like my safe place to blog.

I don’t know if anyone I know sees this or bothers to read it but knowing that people might not makes me feel like I’m safe to speak what’s on my mind without feeling like I’m whining or sad all the time.

This is the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. It’s indescribable. There has not been one day that has gone by since she passed that I haven’t cried at some point during the day. Mostly at night when everything is quiet and my kids are sleeping or I’m by myself. I’ll think and cry or I’ll remember something in cry.

I go to work and I put on this smiling face and pretend everything is fine cause I don’t want people to worry and I need to make money cause no one else is around to pay my bills. But I feel like an egg that’s been cracked open, once it’s cracked you can’t put it back together.

I’m not trying to sit here and say woe is me and I don’t want people around me to feel bad for me. If anything that is the worst thing cause when people feel bad or they try to hug me or whatever I know they mean well but it just makes me more sad.

I never in my life imagined it would come this soon. One week she was good, one day she was talking and she went to sleep and never talked again. It’s was that fast.

I wake up everyday still not believing she’s dead. I used to have dreams about my mom dying all the time. When I say ALL THE TIME I mean ridiculous amounts of times. When I’d tell my mom this she’d tell me.

“If you have dreams of me dying it just means I’m gonna live longer.”

I’m waiting for someone to fucking shake me and tell me this was all a dream.

I feel like I took time for granted. And the only lessons this really taught me is that life is short, in an instant it can be gone and at times like these you really come to find who is really there for you who are the real people in your life are the ones that actually show up.

I’m not close to anyone in my family aside from my children and my dad.

So I pretty much feel like I’m basically on my own my dad doesn’t contact as me as much as my mom did. Not to say he isn’t helping me he is I just don’t feel the bond with him that I had with my mom. I know it will take time and it will build but not yet.

I feel like I’ve grown as a person these past few weeks and gotten stronger as a person. Emotionally not so much. But as far as keeping everything neat and tidy and organized in my house of chaos. I’ve been able to maintain a nice home and up to my responsibilities. Something I fell back on when she was around due to depression and anxiety and all the build up.

I’m trying to live the life my mother wanted me to do and be the person she wanted me to be when she was alive.

I was weak and lonely and depressed and just this pathetic shell of a person but i feel like I’ve come out of this stronger knowing I have to carry on for my dad and my kids.

I just hope she is watching down on me and she is proud to see the person I’m becoming for her.

[kuraikyu]

anonymous : ''Mei? I'm sorry to disturb you with t-this.'' Did he just stutter? FUCK this embarrassment! Maybe it was for the best he was exiled from his realm. ''But you're one of those who figured knows and also the only one who I can talk about this with.'' A helpless swallow. Spiked fang sank into the bottom lip. ''It had been on my mind for a month? Maybe? If not longer, I'm thinking about a proposal. That's how it is called in your world, right? I want to ask him to drop everything and move into another realm with me I just don't know how to bring this up and how would he react.'' // gotta make you cry here too

You two exhaust me seriously ... This world is full of men-made monsters but there is another curse most twisted of them all ... Perpetual melodramas scattered among grueling denials, how terribly tragic and stubborn. How can even someone have energy for that? And here she thought she envied his lack of emotional mayhem. Either this or that, mortal or immortal; men are so unsure of what they want. From what she witnessed ever since she was brought into the paranormal unit in utmost secrecy - /he/ alone was capable of destroying armies in the blink of an eye, but look at him now. The emotionless and infamous general, bent and broken, entirely crippled by curdle of terrestrial plague; not by brutal force but vulnerability caused by something stronger than void. Such an unusual sight was enough to impress a rational woman like her. Mei Mei did not know what was going on behind the closed doors but there were things too evident to be overlooked; from how they looked at each other, the coordination of strategies, the gestures, and she refuses to think again about other interesting things on her former Kohai. She detected everything before anyone would deliver an echo of such case of secrets. ' You what? ' She wanted to repeat aloud but eyebrows lift in high amusement instead. '' You almost made me think of proposal as an act of pre-marriage devotion to tie your beloved other to yourself forever. '' A pause follows. When there was no other reaction coming than a wordless exchange of gazes she understood. So, he kept holding this in himself for a whole month until finally came to decision to share and consult his future step with someone ...

'' Ah, I see, '' gloss of violet exposed keen information hiding under the debris of her knowledge once realizing this is not something he asks her to be explained. He knew the meaning, and his question was different. Mei Mei better not fiddle with answer for too long or he'll puncture his lip and bleed more than necessary; sure that wouldn't be a big deal for him (*he's bleeding all the time and it's evident why) if not for the expensive carpet she bought in sacrifice.

The mistress of crows sighed with internal commentary: you've always been better at loving monsters than humans, Geto.

'' Your care is deep, '' her firm smile carved from glaciers akin to gliding frost sketched in fashion sympathetic and understanding, '' in order to draw a reaction it needs to happen first ... If every part of him enamors you, I think better than sitting in fear and wasting precious minutes of togetherness maybe you should try to ask him yourself. If you're too worried try to ask how would he react if such situation ever occurred in his life, or don't -- and continue slouching in the corner like a child terrified of his own 'what-ifs'. '' The realm of morality taught the immortal well about fear.

'' As for Geto? I think the worst he can do is say ' no ' and that's fine because people just can be unprepared for such step, without breaking an ongoing relationship. There's no need to make international tragedy from this. How even such bondings work in the Yokai world? If you'll eat him, I'll find you. '' A gentle threat.

'' But anyway, '' she takes a light slurp from coffee placed upon packs of books beside their tent that almost turned cold from another presence of ruthless wintertime, '' looking by chance for a matchmaker for such setting? '' She winked.

[aloudplace]

Fidelity won 9

He was furious.

Sig sat on the edge of the bed in the bathrobe, legs folded beneath her, and watched him pace. He was still shirtless and flushed, hair a wavy, curling mess.

"Why did you do it?" he demanded.

She hesitated and he stopped pacing to pin her with an icy glare.

"Mad," she said reluctantly.

Glowering, he waited.

"She's vulnerable. Malik can control her. I need someone there who can resist him. Someone with the bond. You seemed like the best candidate."

His face was stiff with outrage. "And it didn't occur to you to let me in on–-"

"Would you have agreed to it?"

He scowled. Didn't answer.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. This is about survival."

"You'd do anything to protect her." He said it bitterly.

"And me."

He stalked her across the room, moving like a big cat, eyes glittering. "And what did you think I would do?"

Tilting her head to look up at him as he neared, she said, "This."

Standing over her menacingly, he growled, "Why the sex, then?"

Sig blinked. "Isn't that self-explanatory?"

"A consolation prize?" he countered snidely.

"Don't be gross."

"Why me? You could have chosen Thor. He would have done it willingly."

"I really hope you don't mean sex."

He snarled. "You know what I meant."

Sighing, she let her feet slip off the mattress. He was standing so close that her knees fell on either side of his legs. His gaze flicked downward, flaring with heat.

God, his combination of temper and sexual aggression was heady. She'd dampened the bond as much as possible so he couldn't read her, but she could still feel a trickle of his emotions. Anger, lust, denial.

"Why would I want Thor when I can have you?"

That seemed to stun him, for some reason. He went very still, gaze penetrating, as though searching for the lie in her words. Through the bond came a ghost of feeling. An ache that made her heart squeeze.

He didn't believe himself worthy. At least, not compared to his brother.

"There are benefits to the bond," she said, to cover the emotion rising in her throat. "In fact, there are more benefits to you than there are to me."

"Such as?"

"I can transfer power to you now. Use it to heal you, feed your metabolism. Make you stronger. Even extend your lifespan."

The surprise on his face was gratifying.

"We can communicate across vast distances as well. Although," she reconsidered, "That, you might find troublesome."

"You can find me anywhere," he grated. "I'll never be rid of you."

"I'll leave you alone when this is over if that's what you want."

The implications of that "if" struck him visibly. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again. Turned abruptly and paced away from her.

"You would have done the same if our positions were reversed," she said quietly.

He spun, "Don't tell me what I would have done."

"It's true though. Isn't it? Can you really blame me?"

Denial and something else warred on his face. His emotions were a tangle she couldn't make sense of, but there was something there. Something that made her tingle with hope.

Finally, anger gave way to resignation. "Well, it's done. You may regret it, though."

She shrugged. "I told you. It's a curse."

...   ...   ...

Sig sat on the couch with a mug of coffee, listening to the sound of Loki in the shower.

Wondering what he was thinking. What he wanted.

Lot of good that does me.

She could peek using their new connection, but he would undoubtedly feel it. He most certainly wouldn't appreciate it.

Plus, she wasn't too keen to let him in on what she was feeling, and the bond went both ways.

It was strong with him, too. Unexpectedly so. The connection had been more intense than with Mad. And Malik. Maybe because of the sex?

God, that had been good. She was still aching in low places.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

She set the coffee on the table. Dropped into a shallow trance and reached out to Mad.

Usually, it took significant effort to reach Mad across such a distance, but the old magic she'd taken from the Bifrost surged and flung her effortlessly towards the faint pulse of the Tolok's energy signature.

Hello, my Sigyn. Mad's greeting was crystal clear and vibrating with happiness. Are you well?

Yes, Sig answered, drinking the Tolok's simple pleasure with relief. Did you do what I told you?

Yes, my Sigyn. Protocol fifteen. I waited. The ship and I are safe at the appointed place.

Good. Part of protocol fifteen was as that they couldn't speak of their respective locations, on the off chance that Malik might be listening in psychically.

Do you see my timeline? Sig asked.

Yes.

Is it clear?

No, my Sigyn. There is obscuration.

What can you tell me?

There was a pause while the Tolok calculated the risks of foretelling Sig's future.

Your plan must hinge on Loki. That is all I may safely say.

Well, that wasn't a surprise. It does. Can you see what we're planning?

No, my Sigyn. But I see the bond. Her voice vibrated with happiness.

Sig sent Mad a telepathic scowl. Don't get too excited. I didn't exactly ask his permission. He's less than happy about it, but he's going to help us.

All will be well, my Sigyn. Mad's response was full of confidence.

If you say so. Stay there until I contact you again, ok? Be safe.

Yes, my Sigyn.

She broke the connection and looked up. Loki was standing beside the couch with a towel riding low around his lean hips, looking down at her.

Sweet God in heaven.

"Where did you go just now?"

Sig tore her gaze away from his naked torso and made herself look up into his face.

"With Mad," she said.

"Ah." He bent to pick up the bundle of clothing that sat beside her on the couch. "How is the little time witch?"

He was more relaxed now. The stiffness was gone from his frame, anger dissipated. Wet black curls clung to his collarbones. His chest was smooth, leanly muscled. His abdomen corrugated. Everything gleaming and beaded with water.

Sig had the insane urge to snatch the towel away, just to see the look on his face.

Well, maybe not just for that reason.

"She's fine. We're going to need a ship."

His brows rose. "It's time?"

She nodded.

Sig could swear his irises changed color at that moment-–turned from blue-ish to a pale, translucent green.

"Where are we going?"

His darkly eager tone sent fine little shivers down her back. Lovely, happy little shivers. There were rivulets of water trickling down his belly, over the muscles above his hips.

"Not far," she said, suddenly unable to produce complete sentences. "Secret."

His eyes narrowed in anticipation. "Shall I call Fury?"

"The Watcher."

"You mean Heimdall." He lifted one hand and ran it through his wet hair, the muscles in his chest bunching deliciously.

Like an idiot, she simply smiled at him, heart dancing a funny little tattoo in her chest.

His expression faltered. "Are you unwell?"

She shook her head. "If you want intelligent conversation, you're going to have to put some clothes on."

He blinked at that, expression flickering from surprised to disconcerted to amused.

"Or don't," she smiled again. "That also works."

His mouth dropped partly open on a voiceless little gust of breath-–half laugh, half disbelief.

"I know." She waved one hand as though to erase her previous behavior. "I need the Watcher to check on Malik. See if we can get a location before I ... do the thing."

He shook his head, eyes rolling upward. "Fine. I'll just be a moment." And then he turned and went back to the bedroom.

Sig watched him go. His back was just as nice as his front, especially with her nail marks all over it.

Oh god, she thought helplessly, this is madness.

He came back out wearing a fresh gig in deep, dark brown leather with wide strips of forest green down the sides, on the forearms and diagonally across the lower leg. The jacket closed on the left side of his chest with several straps that ended in slim, dark copper buckles. There was a matching decorative copper arc, inverted at the collar and inlaid into the leather, like a gesture at a necklace. The whole getup hugged his body deliciously.

Sig found herself mentally calculating how one might go about getting it off him.

"Have I passed your inspection?" he said wryly, interrupting her thoughts.

Oops.

"Absolutely," she smiled.

His mouth quirked. "My brother had these sent up for you," he picked up the other bundle of clothes and tossed it into her lap. "Get dressed."

While she looked at the bundle, he went to the phone on the wall near the kitchen entryway and dialed Fury.

She stood, stripped off the robe, and started pulling on the high-waisted leather pants, listening as he told Fury what she wanted.

As he argued.

Shit. "Let me talk to him," she said, turning with the top half of the ensemble still clutched in one hand.

Loki handed her the receiver, his gaze dipping to her naked chest.

"I need some assurances before I give you a multi-million dollar piece of SHIELD equipment," Fury said before she'd even spoken.

"Well, I can't give you any assurances." She watched Loki's pupil dilate as he gazed at her breasts.

"Then take one of ours with you. Take Thor. He can bring the ship back when you're through with it."

"And report back to you everything we do, thus jeopardizing the success of our plan." She tucked the phone against her shoulder and pulled apart the remaining garments–-a short, fitted jacket in midnight blue leather and a matching cotton undershirt.

Fury cursed, "Work with me here. We won't communicate with Thor except to track your loca–-"

"No. Tracking us defeats the purpose of going where we're going." She struggled into the undershirt while Loki watched her with predatory interest.

Fury sighed. "Then take him as a show of good faith."

"I don't have any good faith. Listen, if you want this to work, you're just gonna have to trust me." She tucked the shirt in. Loki's gaze followed her hands.

"I'm finding that rather difficult, considering I have nothing but your word to go on, and you won't tell me squat about what you're planning. For all I know you're going to take the ship and hang us out to dry."

"I appreciate that, but there's nothing I can do to reassure you–-"

"Take Thor."

"I don't need him," she said impatiently, shrugging into the jacket. Loki came around the couch and startled her by helping with the complicated closure, reaching inside the jacket to attach the inner flap under her arm.

"He's one of the most powerful beings I've ever encountered. Surely you could use a little extra backup."

She made herself breathe evenly. Loki's knuckles brushed against the underside of her breast. His face was impassive, but his body radiated heat. "Power, we have. Clumsy, musclebound idiots, we do not need."

"He could be useful," said Loki, pulling the outer flap of the jacket into place and buttoning it snugly on the opposite side of her body.

She looked at him in surprise as Fury said stubbornly, "I'll give you the ship if you take him, otherwise we'll just take our chances with Thanos."

He was bluffing, of course.

Loki gave her a shrug like, Why not? He buckled the jacket's narrow belt and then straightened the asymmetrical lapels, brushing over her breasts again–-rather unnecessarily, she thought. Not that she was complaining.

"I'll call you back," she said to Fury, and then hung up on him, mid-denial.

"He's not nearly as dumb as he looks," said Loki, hands falling away from her body. "He might be useful."

Humming all over with arousal, she replied, "Or he might be a huge, unnecessary pain in the ass."

He smirked. "You just want to be alone with me."

A little of column A, a little of column B. "Do you really think your brother is an asset to the plan?

"Well, can Malik withstand a massive lightning bolt?"

Hm. "I doubt it."

"In that case, with Thor's help, we may be able to take him down without ever getting too close."

She considered. "I don't know, adding another variable seems...foolhardy."

"Sounded like the ship and Thor are a packaged deal."

"Fury's bluffing. His whole planet is at risk."

Loki shook his head. "I guarantee you he isn't putting all his chips on us. He has other plans. Hidden resources. The man is clever, I'll give him that. And devious as hell."

She sighed. "Fine. We'll take the idiot. But I reserve the right to ditch him on some backwater hellhole if he proves to be more trouble than he's worth."

Loki grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

... ... ...

Thor and Heimdall met them at the docking bay, which opened from beneath a low building adjacent to the center compound building.

"This ship is tiny," Sig was saying to Fury. "Can it even carry three people?"

"It can, though there are only two sleeping pods. Hopefully, your journey will be a short one."

Sig shrugged, turning to Heimdall as the two Asgardians approached.

Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder in greeting and Heimdall said, "You wish me to locate the Aldurian."

"Can you?" Sig asked.

Heimdall nodded, "His cloaking is good, but I saw him most recently on a planet on the nearest edge of the Andromeda galaxy. I believe he is still there now."

"Which planet?"

"I do not know the name. It's a trading hub outside of Confederacy jurisdiction."

"Good, there aren't any portals between here and there. That gives us time to get away from Earth." To Loki and Thor she said, "Let's get moving."

"We've stocked you with food and supplies," said Fury as they boarded the Quinjet. "The ship has enough fuel to get you well outside the solar system. After that, you're on your own."

"Thanks," she leaned over the edge of the docking ramp and held out her hand. With a look of surprise, Fury shook it. "Good luck with Thanos," she said.

"Thank you. Good luck with Malik."

She grinned at him and then turned and ducked onto the ship.

"Loki," Fury said, as the God of Mischief turned to follow her.

Loki paused and Thor looked back as well.

"If you're successful, I'll lobby for dismissal of the charges for your crimes against Earth."

Loki hid his surprise behind a mocking smile. "I'm touched."

The human went on as if Loki hasn't spoken. "That being said, if you fuck this up, Thor will bring you back in chains and you'll spend the rest of your days here in a ten by ten cell."

Behind him, Loki caught Thor's urgent gesture of repression. He glanced at his brother and Thor smiled sheepishly.

To Fury, Loki said, "I shall endeavor to redeem myself in your exalted eyes."

Fury's mouth thinned into a line of pure derision. "See that you do."

As the docking door closed behind them Thor said, "I'm sorry, Brother."

"Are you?" Loki drawled, taking the seat beside Sig at the console. She was already starting the engines. Outside, Fury's little minions scurried about the bay, signaling with orange cones as the ship began to move.

"Strap in," she said.

"Why do you get to pilot?" said Thor.

"Because I'm the oldest," she replied smartly, without looking back. Then she threw the throttle forward and the sudden momentum sent Thor tumbling into the rear of the cabin.

Loki laughed with genuine glee. "This is going to be fun."

[renafoo]

I Would Stop Time for You

When confronted with the question “Would you go back in time if you had the chance?” my instinctual answer is yes, of course, I would. Maybe I would return to 5th hour last Friday and switch out the answers I knew I got wrong on my world history test. Maybe I would return to the summer of 2022 and buy the adorable cherry blossom mug I regret not buying at the Library of Congress gift shop.

Time travel in a stereotypical literary trope involves a person getting his hands on an absolute scientific wonder of a machine—which he then uses to discover the depths of his dark past, save the world from impending destruction, or, most interestingly, be the cause of it.

But Toshikazu Kawaguchi's Before the Coffee Gets Cold completely disregards this standard time travel narrative. There is one seat in a small, underground coffee shop which allows customers to travel to any point in the past they can imagine… with a few rules.

You cannot move from the seat. Thus, you cannot leave the cafe or meet anyone who has never visited the cafe.

The time limit is how long it takes a cup of coffee to cool. If you exceed the time limit you get stuck in the cafe forever as a ghost. 

No matter what you do or say, the present will not change.

Returning to the question “Would you go back in time if you had the chance?” in this context, my answer would probably be no, what’s the point? What’s the point if I couldn’t change the present or even stand up to get to the cherry blossom mug from D.C.? But there is one aspect present in everyone’s life that people would go to extreme lengths for—a relationship with a loved one that is not exactly where they want it to be. 

The first case in the cafe involves a career-driven woman, Fumiko, whose boyfriend, Goro, tells her he is moving to the U.S. for work. To preserve her pride, she doesn’t tell him what she truly wants—for him to stay. When she uses the seat to travel back to that day and tell him how she feels, he tells her to wait three years for him to return so they can get married. Fumiko and Goro’s story is a clear example of “time travel romance”, defined by Bruckner in the Cinema Journal as “any tale that deploys the power of time travel in service of a romantic plot or that portrays longing, dissatisfaction, or vague impulses as motors for time travel”. Time travel doesn’t allow them to overcome their geographical barriers, but expands their understanding of each other’s true feelings. Fumiko returns to the present hopeful of their future together and confident of his love for her.

Even though the subgenre may be categorized as “romance”, its dynamics are applicable to sisters as well—who share an equal if not stronger bond. Hirai—estranged from her parents—continuously avoids her little sister, Kumi, who won’t stop trying to see her. Until one day, her sister dies in a car accident on her way home on one of these visits. In denial and crushed by guilt, Hirai travels back in time cafe to meet her sister. No matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t warn Kumi of what was going to happen to her. The present wouldn’t change. Her sister would still be dead when she returned. But by discovering her sister’s true wishes in their conversation, she found the value of family again—finding happiness in speaking with her one last time. Hirai returns to the present with a newfound purpose and plans to fulfill her sister’s dreams that were once unknown to her.

While I was reading, I pessimistically considered the worst-case “what-ifs” of time traveling in that cafe. What if Fumiko’s boyfriend completely dismissed her confession? What if Hirai broke the time limit out of the sheer grief of seeing her dead sister? But I realized these “what-ifs” didn't matter. Individuals are willing to wander into danger if it means seeing that one person again—saying and doing what they never got to.

According to experiments conducted by psychologists at Indiana University and Miami University, people prefer “choices where the outcomes of alternative selections will never be learned”. Although this may be true with lottery tickets and multiple-choice questions, personal relationships are a whole different matter. When it comes to the most important people in our lives, it’s difficult to just accept ignorance.

Maybe Fumiko would preserve her pride, but she would spend the next few years wondering if her words would have resulted in her being with the love of her life. Living with that regret and uncertainty of never knowing what could’ve been is worse than choosing the “alternative selection” and having it not turn out perfectly. 

But time travel doesn’t have to be a physical movement through space-time. It can also be an ongoing mental process in which a person reflects on their past with the knowledge and beliefs they possess in the present. The emotional outcome is similar, but at the mercy of a person’s own thoughts, it’s often more twisted. In (500) Days of Summer, Tom is going through a breakup with who he thinks is the love of his life, Summer. He plays through the scenes of their relationship in his head in the form of flashbacks—starting from the day they met to the one when they went their separate ways.

Initially, this mental time travel makes it impossible for Tom to move on with his life; he is trapped in his own mind and dangerous obsession with the past. This cycle causes him turbulent feelings of self-pity, regret, and longing—fueled by his unrealistic expectations that Summer will want to get back with him one day.

Unrequited love will cause otherwise rational people to act purely out of emotion; their perspective is clouded by what they could’ve said or done or what they shouldn't have said or done. In the “Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide”, David Masello interprets notable poetry about unrequited love. One in particular from Laurie Colwin’s “The Lone Pilgrim” stood out to me: “Woe to those who get what they desire…Fulfillment leaves an empty space where your old self used to be, the self that pines and broods and reflects.” 

If there is something inherently addicting about obsessing over the people you can’t have, then that would further explain why Tom can’t let go. He would feel empty without it—nothing to occupy his mind, nobody to dream of or miss to fill the time. “Mental” time travel is a tool to fulfill our constant state of wanting—letting the past and future define us because it’s simply more interesting. Sure, a breakup is difficult and, at that moment, it’s hard to believe you will be the same again. But it’s even worse to one day regret the time you spent dwelling over someone who never deserved your attention in the first place.

The preconceptions of time travel break down when it comes to personal relationships. Even if in the present, the relationship remains broken or unfulfilled, a change in heart is always possible. All it takes is an instant (the time it takes coffee to cool is more than enough time) for the love, hatred, admiration, and longing for that person to come flooding back. Both Before the Coffee Gets Cold and (500) Days of Summer emphasize the intangible effects of time travel. There are no conventional “happy-ever-afters” in either, but the new perspective gained through the experience of exploring the past—Fumiko strengthening her love, Hirai pursuing her sister’s wishes, Tom learning to live without Summer—is valuable on its own without physical change in reality.

Time travel is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it can cause insanity and a spiral into despair and regret as in the case of Tom. On the other hand, it can instill peace of mind, which all the characters find in the small, underground cafe.

But all of this—physical or mental—seems like an awful lot of work and emotional distress. The fact that the present doesn’t change in the cafe highlights how we are fully responsible for how we treat others and must face the consequences of our words and actions. So why count on time travel when there are choices to be made, things to be done, and words to be said right at this moment?

It would be much easier if we showed our gratitude and affection for the people we cherish the most in the one timeline we can control—today.

To buy (the cherry blossoms grow when there’s a hot drink inside): https://library-of-congress-shop.myshopify.com/products/cherry-blossom-morph-mug?variant=16335143687

Works Cited

Bruckner, Rene Thoreau. "'Why Did You Have to Turn on the Machine?': The Spirals of Time-travel Romance." Cinema Journal, vol. 54, no. 2, winter 2015, p. 1+. Gale Literature Resource Center, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A401506347/LitRC?u=lom_macombtgps&sid=bookmark-LitRC&xid=fdddfa95. Accessed 5 Jan. 2023.

"Calibrating Regret. (Findings)." The Wilson Quarterly, vol. 26, no. 4, fall 2002, p. 10. Gale Literature Resource Center, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A104032744/LitRC?u=lom_macombtgps&sid=bookmark-LitRC&xid=4ea66117. Accessed 9 Jan. 2023.

Masello, David. "On the Poetry of Unrequited Love." The Gay and Lesbian Review Worldwide, vol. 21, no. 5, Sept.-Oct. 2014, p. 20. Gale Literature Resource Center, link.gale.com/apps/doc/A381145543/LitRC?u=lom_macombtgps&sid=bookmark-LitRC&xid=a86309e8. Accessed 9 Jan. 2023.

(Midterm)

[thatscarletflycatcher]

That is the problem (there was a post the other day treading on this line):

Darcy has not proposed to Lizzy before because of his objections to her social connections and embarrassing family.

Thornton hasn't proposed before because he sees Margaret as of a different class, and is aware of her personal dislike.

Darcy thinks Lizzy has been encouraging him, and goes to propose confident that he'll be accepted.

Thornton's brain is being dragged kicking and screaming into proposing by his heart, because rationally he knows he'll be rejected.

Lizzy patiently listens to what Darcy has to say, and then tries to reject him with composture until he doubles down on the putting down. That's when the "more gentleman-like manner" line appears. Her rejection is based on objections she has to Darcy's moral character.

Thornton doesn't even get to propose. In fact, Margaret doesn't even let him finish the "thank you for saving my life" line, and is rude without provocation (calling his feelings "blasphemous" is... low). Thornton does not make a single disparaging comment, and in fact his fragments of speech spin around the love he feels for her and the gratitude born of the service she rendered him. In turn, Margaret's motives for rejecting him are nebulous even to herself, and have very little to do with Thornton's character and actions (she's half mad that his sister thinks she was throwing herself at him, half in denial that she's no longer a girl).

In P&P, the first proposal is a pivotal point in the narrative, the moment where Darcy and Lizzy's perceptions of each other are cracked, and the kickstart of the character development that makes their marriage possible in the end.

If there is a specific narrative function of the first non-proposal in N&S, is that of solidifying and making explicit the conflict that keeps these characters apart, which is one of misunderstanding. It does not put in movement character development for either. Acceptance of adulthood comes to Margaret only after the death of her parents, through economic independence and a stronger sense of self she developed by the friendships she made in Milton. She has changed her heart about Thornton way before she hears about his changed relationship with his workers; there is no big revelation about his true character. For all purposes, in essentials, he is the same person he ever was since she's known him. There's even a pointed element in the narrative that it isn't Margaret's intervention what makes Thornton give Higgins a job, but a certain admiration for his character (the hours he waited to have an audience, his taking Boulcher's children in), and it is in turn this that changes Thornton's mind about masters-workers relationships.

The comparison between Mrs Thornton and Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a huge stretch, and on both directions: lady Catherine is not to Darcy what Mrs Thornton is to her son. Lady Catherine is a somewhat embarrassing aunt whose wishes Darcy doesn't really care about. Mr Thornton and his mother are bound not only by their mother-son bond, but also by their common loss of the head of the family and their joint struggle to overcome adversity.

On the Lizzy/Margaret side... Lady Catherine is officious, and her going to Lizzy is part of that officiousness mixed with alarm. She cannot see beyond Lizzy's "inferiority", and is incensed at the idea that her perfect plan to get her daughter married is in jeopardy. Mrs Thornton does not want to meddle with Margaret; she is doubly cornered into doing it by Mrs Hale and Mr Thornton. She derives satisfaction from putting Margaret down, but her feelings about her are conflicted (she's jealous, yes, but she also tells herself that if Margaret had been from Milton she would have likely loved her. She can see elements of Margaret's character that she approves of, effectively showing she can see beyond Margaret's background, even if she'd rather not).

The thing about the "great service" is that it also serves different narrative purposes. Lizzy is already in love with Darcy; the rescue of Lydia is confirmation that he still loves her, and further proof of his outstanding character, as he goes out of his way to spend time and money on the problem. It prompts gratitude in Lizzy. Now with Margaret, Thornton was already slated to judge on the case, and would have come to the same decision if Margaret hadn't been mentioned. The opinion of the medical man was that the fall did not cause the death, and so no inquest was needed. Thornton didn't abuse his authority to get Margaret off the hook; he just had an added personal motive to do what he would have done anyways. It prompts shame in Margaret; now Thornton knows she lied, and she realizes that she cares what he thinks of her, which is a painful thing to come to terms with for her. It's not a matter of "well, I clearly suck too, so now I cannot be all high and mighty in my moral judgement of him" (also because Margaret's earliest paternalistic positions about the workers-masters relationships are challenged by the experience of the strike and Higgins' conversations, which are in principle as opposed to paternalism as Thornton's are).

But... these are all things in the book that the 2004 series either minimizes, omits, or changes to try and reinforce that "look!! just like in Pride and Prejudice!!!"

The only way that "North and South is Pride and Prejudice plus labor disputes" makes even a little bit of sense is if we assume Margaret is in the Darcy role. (She's the outsider with an upper-class upbringing and a proud bearing who's a bit prejudiced against the lower-class town she moves to).

Beyond that, what are the similarities? A romance with two people who initially dislike/misunderstand each other where the guy makes a proposal halfway through that the girl is offended by? The connection is flimsy at best. Even calling the proposal a similarity is a stretch, because she's offended not because she has anything against the man, but because he misinterpreted her actions as romantic interest. Beyond that there are almost no points of similarity. So I'm going to keep being frustrated at the comparison.

[danpuff-ao3]

Danni's Favorite Snarries!

I know everyone is just DYING of curiosity. Probably not. But! I love snarry a lot and I thought I would share my very favorites with you!

I'll list them by author alphabetically. If I've written an individual rec I will link that as well. If a fic doesn't have an individual rec yet...it's coming at some point! I like to reread fics before I rec them so it's all FRESH, but some of these are long and who has the time??

[click below the cut for EXCELLENT SNARRIES you should definitely read, because my favorites are OBVIOUSLY the Very Best.]

(I'm not full of myself, I swear.)

💚 A Bittersweet Potion (series) by Alchemia Dent & Bugland

Rated E. Word count: a lot. (Not publicly available atm)

From Fanlore: During his 5th year, Harry Potter acquires the ability to shape-shift into anything he wishes. While in the form of a cat, he is adopted by Severus Snape, who believes he is a stray.

🖤 In Between Days by Atrata

Rated E. Word count: 68k. My rec.

Snape kidnaps/rescues a clinically depressed Harry from the Dursleys, but nothing is quite what it seems.

💚 Blood and Fire by Cluegirl

Rated E. Word count: 34k.

After the deaths of Dumbledore and Voldemort, Severus Snape must learn to cope with yet another Master; Harry Potter.

Rated E. Word count: 5k.

🖤 Denial by drachenmina

Rated E. 8k. My rec.

Harry definitely isn't gay, and Severus certainly doesn't care about him.

💚 Suspiria by drawlight (ripeteeth)

Rated E. Word count: 5k.

You like to cut yourself on his bones, and he likes to let you.

🖤 A Choriambic Progression by Mariead Triste & Aristide

Rated E. Word count: a lot. 93k. My rec.

Snape is under a curse, is forced to spend time with Harry in the summer after OoTP.

💚 Night Watch by @mia-ugly

Rated E. 18k.

The connection between Harry and Voldemort is stronger than anyone realized. It is decided; the boy must be watched.

🖤 Rapture by mia_ugly

Rated E. 48k.

Snape sees the man, for the first time, on his twenty-fifth birthday.

💚 I Was Adrift by necromanticnoir

Rated E. 18k.

After the war, Harry finds that Snape is alive - and in Azkaban. Unfortunately, the only people allowed to visit inmates are immediate relations - or their spouses

🖤 Reconciling Lily's Eyes by persepolis130

Rated E. 52k. My rec.

Had Harry known "bonding" with his former professor would lead him to three different countries, a hastily-planned wedding and his pants around his ankles in Snape's sitting room, he wouldn't have quit his day job. Or…maybe he would've… What it's like to fall in love with someone you absolutely cannot stand, who happens to still be in love with your mum.

💚 The White Road by @perverse-idyll

Rated E. 47k. My rec.

One day, comfortably set up in the afterlife, Lily Evans Potter switches on the telly and gets hooked on the Harry Potter show.

🖤 When the Rose and the Fire Are One by perverse_idyll

Rated E. 81k.

Harry's haunted by guilt. Snape's warded by roses. Each must free the other in order to free himself.

💚 Snape: Home Fries Nazi by pir8fancier

Rated E. 27k.

When Harry defeats Voldemort, all those marked by Voldemort lose their magic. Snape decamps to the United States, where he becomes a fry cook in a diner. Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry comes to him for advice. AU, obviously, as Snape was still alive when I wrote this story.

🖤 Something to Remember (So They Won't Forget) by RoozetteR

Rated E. 10k.

All Harry wanted to do in his eight year was learn how to move on with his life. He succeeds.

💚 Yet Here You Stand by sarkysue

Rated E. 40k.

Can we ever see ourselves as we really are? Sometimes we need to look through someone else’s eyes, and even then the truth can change. Over ten years we visit Harry and Snape on Harry’s Birthday, starting from when they are forced together in 1998 to keep Harry safe. I wanted to give both Harry and Severus the chance to be broken and to learn how to live with themselves. I hope I’ve done them proud.

🖤 Shame by Spirit

Rated M. 4k. My rec.

Shame. It choked him. It made him cringe inside, as Snape's anatomy would be ripped apart, examined and found revolting. It made him lay awake some nights while Neville snored and Dean tried creeping back into the dorm and Ron muttered rubbish in his sleep. It made him angry and left him feeling trapped.

💚 Nights of Gethsemane (series) by starcrossed

Rated E. 300k. My rec.

Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape, his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....

🖤 Chrysalis by starcrossedgirl

Rated E. 84k.

In which Harry is a tad messed up after the war, but Snape gives him a run for his money. Or: an epic tale of PTSD, recovery and gay porn!

💚 The Sleeping Prince by who_la_hoop

Rated T. 42k. My rec.

It's hard to ignore your past — and impossible to do so when you can't remember your future. But a meddlesome portrait, a dragon with an ancient grudge and true love's kiss teach an unlikely Prince that a regrettable past doesn't have to mean an unhappy ending.

🖤 The Beating of This Fragile Heart by @writcraft

Rated E. 33k. My rec.

After the war, the last thing Severus Snape needs is the memory of a fleeting wartime kiss and a very persistent Harry Potter thwarting his plans to live a peaceful and solitary life. It’s only when Harry’s life is endangered that Severus is finally forced to confront his feelings head on.

[firyfox]

Love the fact that you pointed out that deku only has romantic chemistry with only one other person other than bakugo. And it's Rody. Rody and Dekus adventure is the equivalent of a summer fling for deku before bakudeku are an actual thing. I love it because deku gets be oblivious and experience romance before he realizes his feelings for bakugo. Plus it makes bakugo jealous. But also would bakugo allow himself to stay jealous? If rody was better for Deku?

Honestly I don't think deku would actually get with Rody because Deku is clearly in denial of any gay feelings for Bakugo , and his feelings there are way stronger , so if he felt something for Rody he wouldn't be able to tell 😭🤚🏼 It would just be like "Ah friendship ! This feels similar to how I feel about Kacchan ! Love my platonic bros !" Basically Deku's lesser gay feelings for Rody wouldn't be enough to push him out of the closet - And if he Deku did realize he were gay with someone else , he'd probably connect that to his feelings for Bakugo and then he'd worry about / pursue that instead 🤷‍♀️

Also I'm all for the headcanon that anyone other than Kacchan who tries to date Deku would just end up getting icked out by Deku fawning over his rival and the relationship wouldn't go anywhere adjsktv 💀

As for Rody being better for Deku , I really don't know how Bakugo would actually feel about that - I mean this is Katsuki "I know deku better than anyone" Bakugo , who sacrificed his life for Deku , and did so much more to help him . He was in on the OFA meetings way before anyone knew the big secret . He's been growing along side Deku the whole time . And strengthening their bond that has been there since childhood . Meanwhile Rody only knew Deku for how long like ? a week ?? (I may be wrong Lmk how long they had together cuz I didn't see the whole movie)

Point is , I think Bakugo would reasonably think that Rody doesn't know Deku that well , especially a lot of Deku's darker tendencies that we see in the vigilante arc - Sure Bakugo's guilt is a big factor , but at the same time ?? He's already made amends with Deku for everything / being closer to him than anyone , and he is the self proclaimed Deku expert . I think Bakugo would probably see himself as more fit to be with Deku for this reason , and that they're both gonna be heroes - plus Bakugo knows that Deku needs someone who can protect him , as well as keep up with Deku , and prevent him from making decisions like fighting the big bad on his own - and I'm sorry to say this but Rody ain't gonna cut it 💀 (I mean I guess Izuku's protector wouldn't have to also be his romantic partner , but the point is that Bakugo would probably think he's a better option than Rody is in most ways)

But either way , I don't think Bakugo would do anything to stop Deku & Rody from being together since he wants Deku to be happy - But if Rody for some reason happens to start beef with him ?? He may just lay out those facts idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[dreamlandcreations]

Day 13 - Devoured by the Dark

Darkling x Reader (soulmate!au)

Kinktober prompt - Day 13 - Edging/Orgasm denial

All prompts are taken from @the-purity-pen​‘s Kinktober List!

Warnings: dub-con, kinda toxic relationship, mention of attempted self harm, oral sex (fem receiving), PiV, unprotected sex

•

"You are not going anywhere!" He found you when you were trying burn your mark to run away and dragged you back to his room. With the mark still on he could follow you anywhere.

Of course being the Darkling's soulmate couldn't go easy. Most soulmates only exhibit one kind of sign and you already had three, even though the connection hasn't settled to be a bond yet.

You both blamed it on his luck that the first sign came to you with death as his whole life had been replayed in front of your eyes. When you woke up, he was holding you and staring at your second sign, that you shared, the mark with each others name on your forearms.

The third sign of having opposites for powers just made the pull that everyone feels for their soulmate impossible stronger for you, so much so that it turned into obsession at some point before you came back to your senses.

And here you were now, utterly alone and confused with this stranger of a man who you know better than anyone and he holds your entire existence in his hands.

"Please, Aleksander, let me go." You know begging will not help, but you are really out of options now and if you have to live in this purgatory for the rest of, well, forever then you'd try everything you could think of.

"You would really abandon me like that?" You both know he means it, his loneliness cannot be more clear to you, but you don't understand why would he keep you at arms length then. You also know, as much as the feeling is genuine, he is trying to manipulate you. He never had any reservations using everything he had to achieve his goal.

"I can't stay here, I can't be with you. You can have anyone you choose, let me go." You try to reason with him calmly, offering someone else, anyone else at your place but you know bargaining will get you even less than begging.

"You are my other half, I only want you. Don't do this to us." He tries to guilt you into changing your mind but he goes the wrong way with his last sentence.

"Me? You are a manipulative, selfish liar. I'm kept in here, locked up like a prisoner ever since you found out about this." Your calm exterior is completely gone, but just like he did, you found the worst words you could use for your argument.

"Found out? You say it like I casually bumped into you and the realisation just hit me." He starts to get aggressive as he stalks towards you until you take a few steps back in fear.

"I..." He stops then, but raises his voice even more to channel his anger and hurt. He yells at you with tears in his eyes.

"You died! You died in my arms and I will not let that happen again." You can see it in his expression that he doesn't see you for a few seconds but relives the time he had to loose his soulmate and got her back by some miracle. You wonder if he would able be able to let this go, or he planned to keep you locked up forever.

"I can't take this anymore. This thing between us brought nothing but sorrow. Why are you so determined to hang onto it? You know you abandoned me first, you did this to us. No... there is no us. There never was. You made sure of that." The venom in your voice is not intensional, you never really wanted to hurt him but it looks like that's all you do to each other.

He looks at you like you broke his heart and maybe you did, but the pain quickly turns into a kind of anger you didn't see on him so far. It's darker than anything he had shown you of himself before. You know he would never hurt you physically but you are also aware of the fact that he is capable of many things you can't even imagine.

"Fine. Make me your villain." There is a determination in his tone you do not like, at all. You find out in seconds why when he appeared in front of you and drags you into a kiss by a firm grip in your hair. Standing on your tiptoe to reach where he pulled you, grabbing his kefta to keep your balance in his unyielding hold. He breaks away as suddenly as he pulled you in and carries you to his room to unceremoniously drop you on the bed.

"I waited enough, I will not wait a second longer." He practically rips off his kefta to launch at you before you could get away.

"No! Aleksander, please." You beg as he takes hold of you and removes your silk belt.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go." He offers a deal you know he would keep no matter your answer or his intention of always keeping his word.

"Liar." You hiss at him and he smiles that wicked smile he knows you love but this time there is more darkness in that too.

He gets your clothes off despite your efforts to resist, then takes the belt and ties your hands together and to the headboard. You know he won't hurt you but could your obvious desire really dismiss the consent here? Of course you want him, he was literally made for you and it doesn't help that he is beautiful inside and outside with all his faults included. He's always been alluring, you didn't exaggerate when you said he could have anyone he wanted, but seeing him play with you like a panther plays with its prey is something else entirely.

Aleksander looks eternal now, there is something ageless about him but you can also see that young man who was so afraid to loose anyone else he created the fold, you can see the old man who got so unbelievably tired of existing and you see something else between and beyond those too, the facade he puts on in front of others, completely gone.

He tortures you with soft touches first, enjoying the ability to freely explore your body as he settles between your open legs. Nuzzling into your neck, he lays on you but rests his weight on his left arm while his right hand sneaks down to pinch your nipple, making you hiss again. After he let go of it he envelops your the other with his lips and suck on it harshly causing a whimper that makes him look up before he goes on with his teasing and swirls his tongue around your right nipple and continues to brush along at the left too. The feeling goes directly to your clit as he alters between licking and nipping at them until you think you can come just from that when his hand is remove from you breast and he starts to kiss down your middle with a smile at your whine.

The bastard moves from your stomach to your thighs, nipping you there too, giving kisses and caresses until you are lifting your hips towards him. Your dripping pussy right in front of him, your legs wide open and trembling, you almost beg for more.

When he decided he teased you enough there and marked you properly, he moves to your center but doesn't have any mercy for you instead of focusing on your wet folds he places long, soft kisses along your lower stomach and mound. When he's merely an inch away from your throbbing clit you slip and give him a moaning 'please'.

"Just give in. Be mine." He whispers against your skin moving down before choke out your reply.

"I can't" You say with tears streaming down your face. He stops at that and looks at you with furrowing brows before he decides to take things further.

"Yes, you can. And you will." With that he dives between your legs and gives the attention to your neglected clit. He sucks at it harshly before giving it slow little kisses and starts to swirl his tongue around it to keep you on the edge. Aleksander doesn't slow down, he gets you high just to bring you down before you reach your climax. He goes on with his treatment, focusing on your clit for a while, until you are sobbing and begging him, for what you are not sure anymore.

Some tiny part of you is aware what he wants to hear but you still don't want to loose this wicked game of his. So you squirm and whine and beg but he doesn't stop.

You find out he not only has the patience for edging you long enough to make you a mess but he has the stamina as well. He only stopped to murmur into you that you taste so sweet and he could spend forever between your legs.

From him, especially at his present determination about this, you took that as a threat. He drove you insane, he's been at it for what feels like hours, you are numb all over but somehow still feel the pleasure he gives that turned into pleasurable pain since the fifth time he let you go when you were approaching your orgasm.

It was after that he started to alternate between his previous actions and fucking you with his tongue. He reaches in deep enough to make you choke on that whimper he was forcing out of you. His pace is messy on purpose so you would not find a steady build up and loose the feeling as soon as you are too close.

The wet sounds that fill the room when you are too breathless to moan or cry would disgust you any other day but this other proof of what he's capable of doing to you just existed you even more.

You almost black out at some point for which you receive a pinch to your clit that makes you tighten around nothing painfully. When he had enough for now, he moved up to kiss you, his tongue forcing its way in between your lips and making you taste yourself.

Aleksander pulls away to clean his face a little but doesn't give you much time to rest as he quickly gets rid of his clothes and untangles the belt from your hands. You are too tired to move or do anything but take what he gives. Even when you feel him slide inside you, making you feel so full you shiver into it.

He moves at a slow pace, sliding in and out of you, skilfully finding that spot when he wants to build up your orgasm and conveniently avoiding it when he wanted you to loose it.

You really can't take this anymore, you knew you'd had to give in eventually but hoping he would get bored with you and give up or at least he would get called away was too much to ask apparently.

You'll give in, it's a matter of minutes now. If he offers to end this punishment again, you'll give in entirely. That would mean there would be no chance to run away ever again, but you admit now you were only kidding yourself, there was never a chance for that. He can feel you are close to breaking and drives that nail in at the right moment, all the while reminding you who you are dealing with exactly and that you had no chance to win against him.

"Fight me as long as you're able. You will find I have far more practice with eternity."

You know his right, you've seen it, you know everything about him and when you let go and give in, the connection between you snaps into place. That's when you feel it, another sign, the feeling of that aching hole inside him, the crippling loneliness and the hope that you can fix him or at least you'll be there for him. You don't know what you feel at that moment, you don't know what he feels from your side but you can guess the pain and the hopelessness is among them.

In the midst of the emotional storm he makes love to you, relishing in every feeling he gets from you. You finally reach your high after long hours and it is otherworldly, it makes you feel boneless and sated. He comes right after you, pushing in as deep as he can and he stills above you with no attention of moving for a while.

•

"I can't bare the thought of living like this." You want him to prove you wrong when you say it. Maybe this feeling of each others emotions will fade with time, maybe it won't, but you have no idea how to deal with all of this darkness you'd been given already.

"I can't bare the thought of being alone again." He confesses, though you know now he can feel your desperate need to get as far away from here as you can, he doesn't try to guilt you into staying.

He had shown you much of the real him, much more than to anyone else in centuries, but for the first time, you truly see him, that recognition of his true self and the subconscious acceptance of that part of him too, strengthens the bond between your souls until you are almost one.

"So we should be miserable together?" You ask, resigned with your fate. He pulls you closer, both physically and by the bond. Aleksander lets down all his walls, that you already see through anyway, and holds you while he promises to try to be better for you and you fall asleep to those words.

"It doesn't have to be that way. We can be happy. You can learn to love me, become my equal. My Queen. Forever by my side."