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Summary
An American funeral director crosses the road while thinking about coffee in 2016 and finds herself in London in the wrong century, with a messenger bag and absolutely no time to panic because panic has never solved anything.
Her grandfather always warned her about crossroads. She thought he was being metaphorical. Turns out he wasn't.
She has no plan, no papers, and no plausible explanation for anything she knows. What she does have is a mortician's calm that translates surprisingly well into wartime, a brain that won't stop cataloguing, and the unparalleled stubbornness of a woman who intends to survive whatever life throws at her.
Probably.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence & themes. Very slow burn. The author is not sorry. -
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Summary
𝐈𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.
After her parents' deaths, Elowen Nott is taken into the House of Black, where Regulus Black is the one fruit forbidden from being tasted.
But some things are not forbidden because they are wrong.
But because once touched
they beg to be touched again.
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Her whisper came broken, "You must think me pathetic."
"I think you assume too much about what I think."
"Then what do you think?"
"That I've never once despised you as much as you despise yourself."
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Summary
She let in a shaky breath, before answering the question posed to her.
"I was a bad girl, daddy. I'm sorry. Just... Fuck..." She whimpered out softly, shifting to try and reduce the pressure on her nipples. "I need you."Bookmarked by Sansonnette
19 Aug 2026
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Send Coords (I Just Want to Talk) by mimsical
Fandoms: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells
03 May 2026
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Summary
On impulse, Murderbot publishes some of its secret original fiction on a PSUMNT forum. This goes much better than risk assessment expected, and it makes some new friends, discovers things about itself, and forms a heated rivalry with an obnoxious user in the anonymous response thread who, despite vehement protests, comes to be known as the SecUnit Fucker.
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Summary
It flinches as if you had shot it and its walls slam shut in front of you, thick enough that you know it isn't putting up a show of things. It really does want you out.
Bookmarked by Sansonnette
02 Jul 2026

