#this is why this fic is taking so long

[palfriendpatine66]

Me: so going to write today Me: Spends an hour looking over ship blue prints to decide if he could really see that part of the deck out of that particular window on the Titanic or not 🚢

[afsosville]

You know what would've been nice? Shen Jiu ending up on a different peak that's actually good for him. Maybe Qian Cao, or the beast taming peak could've been hella therapeutic. Or the alcohol/brewery peak to drown away all his sorrows. But what if he stayed fucked up, in a way that's actually good and productive for society? Yeah, I wanna toss him over to Yin Hui and let him run wild! I've seen many iterations of Yin Hui, the fanon peak for espionage and poisons in fanfics. By extension, Yin Hui is also covertly the assassination peak, and I wish this peak got more attention around here tbh. Why do I think this peak is the most well suited for Shen Jiu? BECAUSE ASSASSINS. Duh.

So here comes a baby demonic cultivator Shen Jiu and the Yin Hui peak lord immediately wants him. Shen Jiu would be more readily accepted by his peak martial siblings, and no one would bat an eye at Shen Jiu, his standoffish personality or shady past. A lot of Yin Hui disciples are from questionable backgrounds since the Yin Hui peak lord naturally has to be very particular about selecting their disciples. Yin Hui was established to protect the sect and its people by any means necessary. Sure, the rest of the sect may fight against the supernatural, demons, and the undead, but Yin Hui fights an even greater monster: people.

The Yin Hui peak lord manipulated things so that the first impression the rest of the sect has about Shen Jiu is 'that new badass Yin Hui disciple that killed the criminal Wu Yanzi and saved the future sect leader!' (Seeing as Wu Yanzi would be the very sort of ppl they assassinate, he's already getting goated on Yin Hui too.) So Shen Jiu is known as that new prodigious disciple from Yin Hui and is getting some goddamn respect! And just because of his association with his peak, fewer people are inclined to question his background and whatnot since there's an understanding that the identity of the YH disciples needs to be heavily guarded. The Yin Hui peak lord finds out about the Qiu's soon enough, and they erase any and all traces leading back to Shen Jiu. Even framing it in a way that makes it look like WY did the massacre. Any credibility Qiu Haitang could've had for Shen Jiu's murder accusations is thrown out the window. (Ain’t no way in hell the Yin Hui peak lord is going to name SJ that stupid trauma inducing name like a certain Qing Jing peak lord, that's for sure.)

I'm pulling in elements from MDZS over here. In my version of Yin Hui, they have disciples who practice demonic cultivation, but they make sure it's in a safer way that won't hurt them. There's a surprising number of disciples who have damaged cultivation and chose to cultivate the ghost path. The previous generations of Yin Hui peak lords have created Wei Wuxian's inventions in this AU, and is used by the rest of the peak, like the compass of ill winds, paper metamorphosis, the spirit attraction flag, and empathy. I lowkey want a Wei Wuxian that's native to SV to be the Yin Hui peak lord, now that I think about it. He's good with his kiddos and would be an awesome shizun. And ofc, Shen Jiu is a reflection of his environment, so he's certainly making an example out of Wei Wuxian, one of the only positive influences in his life.

Shen Jiu still has his violent tendencies, so nothing has changed about that, but he learns to take that pent-up energy out on missions instead. And he does them well. It even gives him an edge. Everyone else thinks he's just reallyyy good at his job, as expected of the talented head disciple of Yin Hui!!

He really does try his best to not be an ass (bc he gets the love he deserves on Yin Hui) and ends up venting in a different way (coz he knows better than to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.) His shizun really gave him the free reign to kill sl@ve trad3rs, human tr@ffick3rs, r-ists, and other scum whenever he wanted, in the name of stress relief lol. If killing a particular person becomes politically complicated, like the Old Palace Bastard, then you best believe he's going to scheme like the little schemer he is. He's going to Nie Huaisang the OPM.

Since Shen Jiu is not salty about his fucked up cultivation, and his martial siblings respect him, they get along just fine. His cultivation is some parts similar to Wei Wuxian's: Shen Jiu is a ghost cultivator influenced by music. Sure, he may not be that great of a spiritual cultivator, so what? He's pulling up like the Yiling Patriarch with his demonic cultivation and a haunted guqin of his own.

And guess what? Shen Jiu enjoys teaching. He's training miniature assassins, spies, and the art of demonic cultivation, so forgive him if he's more than a little enthusiastic about it. I imagine that he's exactly like Shifu from kung fu panda when it comes to teaching. Still extremely harsh and strict when training, but outside of actually teaching, he's an attentive and caring shizun. And yes, he completely does act like a father figure who is proud of his murder babies, and ends up being called A-Ba so much that all of Cang Qiong thinks he's officially adopted every single one of his disciples. (After being saved by SJ on a mission, NYY persistently begs SJ to take her in even though he desperately thinks Yin Hui isn't a good fit for her. And then, after being under him for a while, she's completed her first mission successfully, has smn else's blood on her face, and is smiling brightly. 

Ning Yingying: "I completed my mission shizun! Are you proud of me?"

Shen Jiu: "..."

Some other peaklord: "Haha like father like daughter! She's definitely your girl alright!"

Shen Jiu: "...!?!" )

Yue Qingyuan is conerneth about his Xiao Jiu, but as long as he's happy, who cares. Shen Jiu has a better relationship with the other peak lords, so when asked about why he visits brothels, he straight up tells them that it's the best place to gather information in the dark. He doesn't have that mentality of "why explain myself when no ones finna believe me anyway" He actually trusts them and is more honest with time. Shen Jiu does come clean about killing the Qiu's at some point, and the peak lords are all like-

"I didn't hear shit"

"See, I'm blind in my left eye, and 75% blind in my right-"

"Completely understandable, Shen shidi!"

They don't even ask why he did it and just assume he had a valid reason, and he absolutely fucking did.

Oh, Shen Jiu gets accused of playing dirty? Liu Qingge, he literally kills ppl and makes poison as a daytime fucking job ofc he's gonna play dirty! Shen Jiu tried killing you that one time on the well mission? Bro you good? The fact that you think he tried to kill you and failed?? You just insulted an entire peak of disciples and their ancestors. You would've been dead before you could even think of sensing their killing intent if it were true. And there was a witness too, doofus. Be fucking for real. Nahh coz there definitely would be more people who are taking Shen Jiu's side whenever the two of them fight.

Shen Jiu uses a shit ton of versatile weapons because most of his fighting and cultivation prowess comes from his wits and adapting to fighting with different styles/methods. He is kinda similar to Xie Lian bc both of them lack spiritual energy/qi (damaged spirit roots in Shen Jiu's case), but that does not mean they are weaker. It just means they learned to train their body and minds instead of relying on cultivation/qi. He has a massive arsenal of weapons along with the demonic cultivation. (Airport security would hate him)

Yin Hui has got to be my favorite fanon peak, and Yin Hui! Shen Jiu plauges so many of my waking thoughts, I can't stop-

I can add elements from my other hyperfixation into this AU, the Avatar Chronicles. Which are the written books from ATLA. The criminal organization Kyoshi joined, the Daofei, for example, could be a good plot point. Or the Platinum Affair from the Yangchen books. If you don’t know what the Avatar Chronicles are, just ignore this last part lol.

[jadewritesficshere]

Steddie x female!reader thought 18+ only

Eddie blinks his eyes a couple of times to make sure he is actually seeing what he is seeing. He must be living in a nightmare.

You're laying back on one of the pool loungers. One leg dangling over the edge keeping your foot on the warm cement ground, the other spread over Steve's lap as he absently rubs his hand up and down it while he bitches to you about something from work. Your hand rubs up and down Steve's back in comfort. But that isn't the nightmare.

Your bright red bikini bottoms covering enough, but with your legs spread a bit more skin is shown then intended. Spread in such a way that makes Eddie want to just dive in. Get on his knees and worship you, rub his face over your mound as he licks and nips and sucks. Moan as the curly thatch of hair brushes against his face.

Except the curls of hair he is expecting to see peeking around your bikini are gone. Just smooth bare skin. And that isn't the only nightmare. Steve's chest is smooth like when he was in school on the swim team. Not a speck of that beautiful chest hair Eddie would curl into after getting hot and heavy. Not a single curl of the "love rug" he jokingly called it.

Eddie wants to weep. To throw himself down like a little kid and thrash his arms and legs around. Yeah, it's your body and you can do what you want, but he still is sad its gone. Eddie doesn't like change, and suddenly walking in to see both of his partners change something without any warning? Uncomfortable. It makes Eddie feel itchy.

Eddie can barely speak as he walks over and sits next to Steve. He doesn't respond to Steve's warm greeting. Doesn't respond to you asking how the day is. Just stares with big wet eyes at the sight in front of him. A pout on his lips.

A warm hand lands on his shoulder, gently squeezing. Steve's brow furrowed in concern, your wide eyes blinking at him.

"Shaved?" Eddie asks in a quiet voice, eyes darting to Steve's chest and then your clothed pussy. Steve lets out a huff of laughter, "Fuck, thought something was wrong man." Eddie glares," It is."

[ohbo-ohno]

merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)

5.7k, mind the tags <3

cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)

Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.

It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.

Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.

You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth. 

You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart. 

Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.

There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year. 

But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.

It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.

The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.

He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.

He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.

There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.” 

You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.

There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.

Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.

There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.

You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.

You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.

He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.

You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.

The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.

But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor. 

The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.

“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.

“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.

The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”

Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”

You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs. 

He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.

You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.

You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap. 

Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.

You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.

“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”

You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.

“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.

“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”

You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.

The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.

He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.

“Keep movin’, Soap.”

“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”

The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.

Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.

You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.

Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.

You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.

He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”

“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”

His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.

He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”

You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.

You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.

“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”

You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”

Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.

“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”

The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.

You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”

“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”

You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.

He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.

The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.

You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.

He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.

Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.

“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”

Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.

“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”

You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.

“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?” 

“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.

“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”

“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.

“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”

You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure. 

It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.

He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body. 

“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”

You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.

“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”

Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form. 

You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.

He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.

“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back. 

He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.

“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”

You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.

You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.

“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”

You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.

“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”

You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance. 

The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.

The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true. 

He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.

Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.

You don’t even have the energy to beg.

The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.

You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.

He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.

“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”

Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted. 

His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.

Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster. 

There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.

You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.

“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.

You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.

The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.

You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.

Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.

He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.

You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”

You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year. 

So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers. 

Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.

———————————————————————

You wake, gasping, in a dark room. 

You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.

“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”

You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.

He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.

He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked. 

Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.

It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”

Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”

Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”

Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.

Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human. 

“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”

You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”

It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”

The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.

“Is the Purge over?”

The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.

“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”

You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”

Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”

You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”

Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”

“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”

“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”

You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.

“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”

Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”

His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”

You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.

“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”

“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.

It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds. 

Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.

Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.

With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.

[kittyfrisk9]

Idea Dp x dc - Amnesia/2

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Note two: This takes place before Danny went into a coma and woke up with amnesia, I'm not sure if it counts as a flashback.

Dead On Main.

---

The fall was the least of his worries when silence spread across the area, making every second feel like an eternity. But now wasn't the time to panic, because experience had taught him this only symbolized danger.

He had to find Danny! When he tried to move, he let out a groan of pain, realizing his right arm was dislocated. Eh, what a problem.

"Nightwing, respond, are you okay?!"

His mind, finally lucid, could hear Barbara's concern. He smiled, stood up, and put his good hand on the earpiece; he needed to communicate that he was okay.

"I'm fine, Oracle. It was just a minor mishap. I need to find... Danny!" As he spoke, the panoramic view showed him the man's location, and it was clear he wasn't in good shape.

Not at all.

Nightwing rushed to the boy's side. Oracle, from the other end, was asking what was happening, but Dick didn't have time to respond. Especially when he saw, horrified, how blood was pouring from Danny's head. Oh no!

"Danny, Danny! Can you hear me?" He struggled not to shake the man, knowing that moving him in his condition would be fatal. "Oracle, I need you to call an ambulance. Danny is not okay."

"Understood, I'll send an ambulance." Barbara understood the gravity of the situation.

While waiting, Dick made sure to place the boy in a safe position, though it was somewhat difficult considering his injured arm. The essential thing here was to keep Danny's head, neck, and spine aligned.

In the process, he heard a moan from Danny.

"Danny! Can you hear me?" Dick asked, leaning close. Danny's breathing was dangerously slow. "Don't move, okay? I'm here with you."

Danny's eyes slowly opened, filled with confusion and pain. "It hurts..." Ignoring his order, the boy tried to move, but Nightwing stopped him.

"I know, buddy. But I need you to stay awake and calm, okay? Do you remember what day it is today?"

Danny blinked, trying to focus. "Wednesday... I think." No, today is not Wednesday. His hands were trembling, and his heart was beating in an almost painful way; the boy's disorientation scared him a lot.

He has to stay calm.

"Good, very good," Dick replied, keeping his tone firm but reassuring. "Just stay with me, help is on the way." As he spoke, he constantly looked around, hoping to see the ambulance lights.

He began to lose his composure when the light in Danny's eyes started to fade.

"Danny, please, hold on a little longer, you're going to be okay." He pleaded with a trembling voice, though he knew that statement was more a form of self-convincing to try and keep his sanity.

He can't lose his younger brother's boyfriend! Everyone knows how much good Danny has done for Jason, for the family, for everyone. If they lose him... he doesn't want to think about that.

"How do you know my name?" With the weakest sound Dick had ever heard, Danny asked.

There was silence. Dick didn't know what to answer. However, his evasion seemed to clarify something in Danny's mind; the gears started turning. "Dick?" What a bad time to discover his secret identity.

Once again, Nightwing said nothing, but Danny understood everything.

"Jason too?"

He nodded, and Danny's eyes widened. Despite his deplorable state, the boy began to smile. Dick was sure that if Danny had more strength, he would laugh. "I should have guessed."

Subsequently, Danny began to close his eyes and, before Dick could panic, the boy looked at him and said, "Relax, I won't die." Then, silence filled the area. Nevertheless, for some strange reason that Dick couldn't explain, he felt that Danny's declaration wasn't a lie.

He laughed; indeed, hope is the last thing to be lost. What a bittersweet feeling. Suddenly, the communications began to sound.

"We've captured the Joker," Red Robin reported. "He is currently being held by the police and will be sent to Arkham. B, something seems wrong with him, much more than usual." Tim shared his suspicions.

"Understood, Red Robin. Maintain vigilance and notify me if there are any changes. We'll investigate it in the cave, the others report," Batman ordered.

A bad feeling approached.

"The bombs are deactivated," Spoiler transmitted, joy evident in her voice.

In contrast, Dick didn't feel ready for what was to come next. Before disaster struck, Signal confirmed, "The hostages are safe."

He swallowed hard, aware that the question he feared most was coming. Guilt began to surface, questioning every decision he had made up to that moment. What could he have done differently?

"And Danny?" Asked Red Hood, his younger brother, the younger brother he had once again failed.

He turned to look at Danny: shallow breathing, pale, pulse worryingly slow. Unease lodged in his heart, wondering how he would tell his younger brother that his boyfriend was about to die. No! He shook his head. He has to remember Danny's promise; he's weak, but still alive.

"Oracle has already called an ambulance," he commented. He knows this won't ease Jason's anxiety, but at least it will help alleviate the tension, more or less. He's not sure. Hesitant, he continued adding, "help is on the way-" he was brutally interrupted by Jason's demands.

"How is Danny?!" This is no game. He understands that evading the issue will only make things worse, but he simply doesn't know how to tell his little brother the state of his boyfriend.

The memories of Jason being happy...

The silence seemed to drive the aforementioned crazy. "Nightwing!"

"He's not well!" Dick spat out, pressured to confess. "Danny, he lost consciousness a few moments ago, has a head wound, is bleeding. I'm sorry, Jason, I'm sorry."

Silence. Jason didn't respond. Nightwing bowed his head. Probably, it was only seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Suddenly, his brother asked, "Where are you?"

"What?"

"Where are you? Where are you both? Where is Danny? I need to go to him, tell me." The urgency in his voice. Dick was sure his brother was clenching his fists, desperate to be by his boyfriend's side. How sweet, Dick wholeheartedly wishes Danny survives.

On his side, Jason lost patience at his older brother's continued silences. Ignoring Bruce's rule and throwing the code names to the wind, Jason exclaimed, "Damn it, Dick, talk!"

At that moment, Oracle responded. "Enough, Hood. I've sent you Nightwing's location, the ambulance will arrive in fifteen minutes. Don't worry, Danny will be fine."

Nightwing was surprised. Wait, fifteen minutes? Why is the ambulance taking so long? He called for help at least thirty minutes ago! Oh no, Dick looked at Danny and, consequently, at the wound on his head, the bleeding wound on his head. Oh no, no, no, no, no.

They're taking too long!

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[phoenixcatch7]

Deep in my ff7 rereads so here are my favourite fandom fics, hands down.

End as you mean to begin <- 130k+ of time travelling cloud parenting the remnants, seeking asylum in a war torn wutai to keep all four of them out of shinras hands while sephiroth is absolutely Going Through It in midgar. Great Genesis characterisation and cloud mothering his way to an international incident. Bonus gender hijinks, hilarious misunderstandings and zack. Unfinished.

The fear of falling stars <- 500k+ and soon to be completed. Cloud and insane!Sephiroth time travel back to their shinra days and I cannot emphasise enough how much cloud is Not Doing Well. Gorgeous wordplay and top tier banter. Utterly unhinged blood enemies to ??? to ?????? to lovers sefikura. It's E rated and probably the tensest I've ever been reading fic lol, it is not lighthearted! But it's incredibly well written and the characters are phenomenal (zack my beloved) so if you've got strong nerves (and like a quarantine pairing) I'd definitely recommend it.

Voice of the gods <- 170k+ of almost idyllic gods and avatars au. Slow, soft and full of world building, it's a lovely relaxing read of cloud getting anointed the envoy of sephiroth, god of war, and slowly growing into his role and joining the ranks of envoy. Lots of side characters take larger roles here, and sephiroth himself is a darling without losing his sharpest edges. Unfinished.

I CAN FIX HIM (series) <- possibly my favourite sephiroth characterisations ever. 130k and growing of pure shaking this man like a doll in a perfect mix of almost delirious crack and gutting angst (often both at once!). Very good writing, every single funny moment hits like a truck and keeps building until you're choking with laughter. Bonus points to ROADTRIP! for being utterly, utterly insane. I cannot emphasise enough just how GOOD every single character and their dynamics are written.

Just anything ff7 written by AimeeLouWrites, if you've been in this fandom for any length of time you'll have heard of her. Great concepts, great executions and aus for DAYS.

Five hearts to make him whole <- 130k+ of time/dimension travelling cloud getting sent to a world of soulmates - and his alternate self bagged all four soldier firsts. Alternate cloud also died violently a few years ago and boy did those soulmates (not) take it well. Our cloud, of course, was not read in on any of this. Shout out to the emotional support chocobo! Unfinished?

Shall I find rest <- another soulmate agszc (?) dimension cross but this one is 100k+ of post AC cloud and Tifa waking up and deciding to make it everyone else's problem. They're so done with all the drama. Bamf nibel duo to the end and Tifa is the mvp. Unfinished.

Advanced release <- 250k+ and it's sephiroth receiving the original game in a strange packet that appeared in his room. It spirals into a messy and painful exposure of conspiracy, lies and inevitable tragedy. Video game logic is a running gag and zack remains the only actually stable person in the whole sorry mess but he's also Having a Terrible Experience. Really well written!!! Unfinished.

On broken wings <- 160k+ of pure post AC sephiroth redemption from his pov. Him struggling to find his place in a new world and experience real human connection evolves into MOOGLE EMBASSY need I say more?? Unfinished.

With Great Power Comes Meddling Fucking Gods <- 470k+! Poly WEAPON cloud gets yoinked back to the past (feat agzs), dies for a few days and misses his family SO bad but he is determined to change the future for the better. Probably the most healthy and mature cloud ever lol. Unfortunately for him, insane!sephiroth is pulling a inner hollow and gaia herself isn't talking. If you like symbolism, whoo boy!! The dream sequences are a DOOZY (and drowning in eroticism). Wonderfully written, the divide between sane!sephiroth and his counterpart is really cool to see. E rated at times but it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL and WEAPON cloud is such a treat. And I cannot emphasise enough the symbolism. Zackkura (kinda) and slow burn! Unfinished.

A brand need not be seen <- 180k+ in a world of soulmates where the four firsts have clouds name on their wrists. Trooper cloud is tentatively, desperately hopeful. Then a smoking hot op af adult cloud appears, with no names on his wrists at all. It's a really cute flirty fic despite covering shinra politics, identity crises, huge self worth issues, lots of trauma, and finding your own place in the world. Unfinished.

Memory's struggle <- 250k+ of cascading time travel. Basically everyone goes back, which goes great XD. Everyone... Except cloud. I read this a while ago but I do remember poor cloud just getting loved and spoiled by literally everyone and freaking out about it lmao. He was so confused! Unfinished.

Additional edit:

A solitude of space <- a wonderfully soothing 90k complete of sephiroth getting resurrected and moving to stardew valley to become the farmer. It's sooooo peaceful and following him as he grows into his own person and experiences real normality and community is lovely, if a touch angsty. Eventual sefikura with cloud moving to the farm when he's not doing deliveries. It's just. Really nice. I think I cried at the end. Finished!

One-Winged Angel's Self-Saving System <- 55k+ sephiroth enters the Chinese fantasy Scum Villain world in place of the scum villain himself! (He's the third person to take on that role, but who's counting?) Reborn into a plant body he's set loose on an unsuspecting world with a completely different magic system (sentient swords! Immortality!), with only the guide of a mysterious hallucinated ai. Freedom to make his own choices! Aroallo seph rep! He messes up the plot so bad, recruiting accidental love interests with kill counts and resurrecting long lost immortals. It can get a bit heavy but it's really fun and sephiroth has no intention of ever going back. Unfinished.

The SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun <- 73k+ of the opposite of the last fic: the scum villain (the 2nd) gets isekai'd into sephiroth! Shen qingqiu, aka the modern world native shen yuan, fails to resurrect into his prepared plant body and wakes up in a new fictional world, once again as the villain. With his limited memory of the games and his immense knowledge of cultivation (scum villains magic system) he tries to get a grasp on his new life while evading hojo, the president, his new subordinates and the war front while cultivating to immortality - something shinra is VERY interested in. When I tell you these two fics have a GRIP on me. I've written so many fic ideas around them. It's actually insane. The first thing he does is completely redecorate his rooms and buy a whole new wardrobe, which is totally not suspicious XD. Unfinished.

The fifth act <- 160k, it's a good ol' time travel fic - with a twist. The truest exploration of ripples in a pond, or how kindness, when true, can be returned in most unexpected ways. Or maybe how a single act of good can change the world.... Or maybe it's about how you must never turn your back on an enemy. Cloud has people to save and people to kill, and only time will tell which is which. Complete.

Of Things That May Be Only 'Verse <- another series! At 250k, it's about sephiroth resurrecting, only to, uh, slip and crack his head lol. This sends him spiralling through a vision of a cosy life he'd never dreamed, and when he wakes up? He wants it so bad. But that means behaving. Slow burn sefikura redemption, side Cid/Vincent (vincid?) which ngl did convince me of the ship, domestic fluffiness and found family galore! And the whole series is complete!!

Little seph <- a 160k series about the AC sephiroth revival going wrong. Stuck in the body of a kid, post AC sephiroth is a feral kitten carefully domesticated with the power of pancakes, wing preening, and deeply uncomfortable sleepovers. He's a brat, a pest, a murder machine, but he just wants to be part of a family even if he pretends he doesn't. Eventual sefikura, and overall just a very good read. Fully complete!

We are no heroes <- 70k series, about a secretly time travelled sephiroth desperately trying to save his friends and finally, maybe, rest. When I tell you this had me SOBBING. I was BAWLING. Extremely good, zack is best boy. This man is just so tired. Beautiful descriptions. And, again, complete! Yay!

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[mammomlette]

People don’t talk about MC needing to wear a magical ring to not accidentally yk cause NATURAL DISASTERS with their powers??? Not only accidentally but without realising???

Diavolo or smthn is asking too much of MC or being a bit too annoying and their other hand slowly drifts towards the ring and they hold onto it while maintaining dead eye contact. Like continue to piss me off hoe I’ll blink and blow a hole in your castle idk

Obv they never do it (or do they?) but the threat is there and it’s a risk dia (or whoever but I’m using dia) can’t take

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[handledwithgloves]

i just cannot do draco with a bob...

so many fics are like 'his shoulder length white-blond hair, longer than it was in school' like no, baby that's lord farquaad ToT

[johnslittlespoon]

plsssss can we talk about bucky getting his revenge and edging gale

gale edging john post | yes we cannnnn !! eta: ykw. i need to just turn this into a proper oneshot since this ended up being over 1k words. new wip created </3

john may be a man of little self control, but after that incident, he decides he can be at least a tiny bit patient so he can catch gale off guard with it when he gets his revenge. because the next few times they're fooling around, gale's expecting a retaliation, john can see it in the way he tenses up and glances at his face before he comes like he's waiting for it, but john never follows through with it. he wants gale to let his guard down, and that he does.

so a week or so later when john's kissing him and feeling him up and asks ever so sweetly if he can tie gale's wrists behind his back, gale doesn't think anything of it. john likes to take control occasionally and gale sometimes likes the feeling of not having to worry about making decisions, getting to let john call the shots, and john always puts extra time and effort into the way he touches gale when he's restrained because he likes to watch his darling blondie squirm.

john has him sit in his lap facing him, letting gale lean against his shoulder to take the pressure off his legs while john works him open on his fingers, already riled up from the pretty gasps gale's making against his neck but reigning himself in because he's gonna need to have some self control for once.

he sweet–talks gale through it, telling him how good he sounds, how well he's doing as he sinks down on his cock, guiding him with hands on his hips so he doesn't unbalance himself without the use of his own hands where they're tied behind his back with a belt. he stays still at first, letting gale ride him slowly, keeping his hands loosely on his waist while praising him and talking him into that foggy needy headspace until gale's thighs are trembling and john takes pity on him (and frankly is so hard he doesn't have the patience to keep his own hips still anymore).

so he runs his hands down from gale's waist to his ass to hold him in place while he rolls his hips up into him, watching the way gale's eyebrows pinch and his pretty lips fall open in a silent oh as john angles himself in a way gale couldn't with his own movements. lets his mouth run as he slowly picks up his pace, all the coos of "so pretty", "you're taking me so well", "you feel so fucking good", loving how reactive gale is to every word and every thrust.

he moves his hands to gale's hips to get a better grip, can tell gale's getting close because he gets noisier, losing his filter and letting out breathy little "fuck"s and "john"s, head rolling back on his shoulders to bare his neck, rocking his hips down to meet john every time he fucks up into him. and then just as he gets the warning of "close", he pulls gale down by his hips to bury himself deep in him and stops moving completely.

the whine of desperation that tears out of gale's throat when he lifts his head has john knocking his skull back against the wall, cock twitching hard enough inside gale that he's sure the blond can feel it. he watches gale's biceps flex when he instinctively tries to get his hands free, feels his hips try to squirm out of his hands to keep moving, but he keeps him pinned firmly down, dizzy at the way he clenches down around him.

a plaintive "john" pulls a groan from him, but he composes himself, lifts his gaze back up to gale's face and lets the corners of his lips quirk up, purrs out a "yeah, sweetheart? something wrong?"

laughs at the way gale cusses him out, a rare sight of his little spitfire with a mouth on him, though the effect is a lot closer to being hissed at by a kitty than actually being convinced to move. john lets him run his mouth, murmurs a "cute" once gale's done, and then promptly hammers his hips up into him just once, swearing under his breath at the way it punches an open–mouthed moan from gale. rocks his hips up into him a few times before going back to a quick and rough pace, the sound of skin on skin getting both of them flushed.

it only takes a minute before gale's hips are twitching into his hands and whispered pleas are falling from his mouth and john thinks he's never had to use as much self restraint in his life as he does when he forces himself to stop moving again, once again yanking gale down against him, holding him still in his lap.

gale really fights it this time, enough so that it's a merciful distraction for john from how close he himself is (trust his idea to backfire as he ends up edging himself along with gale, he thinks) when he has to use proper strength to keep him in place. any blood that might've still been lurking around his brain rushes south the moment he sees gale's eyes getting shiny with frustration, cheeks all pink and lips red and flushed from biting down on them.

"not so fun, is it?" john taunts, but his voice comes out a bit more raspy than he would've liked, evident how much the stop and start is getting to him too. it's probably karma, because he knows he's being more mean than gale was to him, but he can't help it; those blue eyes look so pretty when tears are threatening to spill over when he's desperate and needy like this.

gale wriggles in his lap the best he can, still furiously chasing his orgasm, head finally falling back in frustration before he lifts it again, looking john in the eyes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and letting it go. he whines quietly and whimpers out the sweetest "please, johnny," almost crying in his impatience, and fuck.

john doesn't mean for his hips to twitch up at that, but they do, hard. gale sobs out a broken sound at the way john's cock hits just where he needs it to in his accidental movement, and gale spills over his stomach completely untouched, just like that. john swears and drives his hips up into him in an attempt to quickly amend his slip up, moaning loud at the wrecked noises that immediately start bubbling up out of gale as he fucks him through his orgasm.

he tips over the edge himself from the desperate sounds the blond starts to make as he crosses the line into overstimulation, feeling gale's hips jerk frantically in his hands, fighting to get away from the incessant rhythm of his cock inside him as john shudders through his own orgasm, fingers digging into gale's sides.

he slows down to a gentle grind of his hips when gale collapses against his chest, face pressed to his neck, shivering at the slow drag inside him and whining pitifully when john eventually pulls out, settling him down on his thighs while he reaches around to undo the belt and free his hands. his heart bursts at the way gale instantly wraps his arms around him, clinging to him as they both catch their breath, john petting his hair and showering him with praise.

he eventually huffs out a laugh, murmuring a "sorry buck. payback's a bitch, but that was an accident, i swear." gale groans against him in complaint, lightly nipping at his shoulder in retaliation, too tired to fight back, but john's sure he'll pay for it eventually.

it's confirmed with the "better watch your back, darling" that he gets when they're both pulling their clothes back on, but to john, that sounds less like a threat and more like a good time, and he shoots gale a crooked grin to let him know as much.

[tianasficrecs168]

The Sandman Fic Recs

Magnolia35: Moonflower (Hob/Dream) • "Hob has to do a double take because Dream is crying; big, ugly, hiccuping sobs that wrack his skeletal frame to the point where Dream looks like a leaf in the wind. The raven that’d been following the man the last time they met— Mike or Martin or Matthew or something— pecks at the guys shoes. The story of how Hob Gadling starts a pub, beats up a god, stares down Death, falls in love with Dream of the Endless, and amasses a small army of fidget cubes. Not necessarily in that order.

TinyButFierce: "Into Darkness and Howling (I'll Keep Him From Drowning)" (Hob/Dream) It was beginning to sound like Roderick Burgess had something or someone trapped in his basement. Hob was starting to wonder if he should do something about that.

MonstrousRegiment: “The Uses of Adversity” (Hob/Dream) What led Hob Gadling — at the time known as Robert Stranger, because he’d been in a permanent state of pettiness from 1889 to about 1904 and now he was stuck with it — to the dank, cold, and dark basement of the Burgess house on March of 1957 was not so much coincidence or fate as it was curiosity. Yeah. Cats isn’t the only thing it kills. Alright, wait. Back up. Let’s start from the beginning. It was 1957 and Hob Gadling was, by no action or choice of his own, sort of — it’s a bit embarrassing — a criminal master. Not mastermind! He hadn’t planned any of it. Honestly.

CeruleanHeart: - “Darker, Still” (...) (Hob/Dream) When Dream doesn't show up for their appointment in 1989, Hob decides to devote a part of his immortality to looking for his mysterious friend. He is dedicated not to wait and hope for another century for the slim chance of seeing him again. Even if he has to bribe, lie and steal, use every trick in the book he's learned in the past 600 years, he will find him. After over a century, Dream has almost given up on the hope of ever escaping his prison when help finally shows up in the form of someone least expected, compelling him to re-evaluate the nature of his interest in an old acquaintance.

Snits: - “Country Roads (Take Me Home)” (Hob/Dream) • Hob and Dream go back to Hob's for a nightcap. While they're there, they address some trauma, and Hob finally learns the name of the man(-shaped being) he's known for seven hundred years.

Sonhoedestrazao: “These days of dust” (Hob/Dream) There is something different about him, though his appearance is identical. The curious part of Hob Gadling, the one that ensures that his wish to live persists through the ages, can’t wait to figure out what it is exactly. (Or: the New Inn encounter continued.)

Sonhoedestrazao: “Stuck in a season” (…) (Hob/Dream) Hob Gadling opens his eyes in the year of our Lord of 1889, in a tavern that he somehow knows no longer exists, among people long dead. Alone at a table for two, he leans over and says to no one in particular, “He’ll be back. You’ll see.” (Or: how to deal when your nameless friends keeps appearing in dreams and a talking bird approaches you with dating advice.)

Majestickasztan: “Painted by sorrow” (Hob/Dream) • When Hob looked up and found his oldest friend looking back, he was, one could say, taken aback. But when you're immortal and things go according to your expectations, life gets very boring very quickly, so he couldn't bring himself to complain. Not that he wanted to. He was pining for this guy since 1489, after all.

KatieKat527: “Perchance to” (Dream/Hob) • Hob Gadling muses on modern advancements. Only as they pertain to a sleepy morning in bed with his “stranger.”

Newfandomnewpseud (Broodthaers): “A Mug’s Game” (Dream/Hob) Hob Gadling teaches history, flirts with Death, gets a boyfriend, and accidentally breaks the laws of the universe.

Brackets (…) means it's still being updated/not done/WIP – and I'm paying close attention to it

Zeros with a strikethrough (000) Disappeared off the net (I still have a doc of it saved somewhere)

A black dot • means it's a one-shot

Ship with + means it's either time travel or dimension hopping – something along those lines

A heart ♡ means it's focused on Sexy times (it's pure filth PWP)

[rosesradio]

You're the only person i follow who posts about thomas sanders

And i only watch him for sanders sides, i'm not really in the fsndom online, so i guess you are the best person to ask this

Why does thomas take so long to upload new sander sides?

ten questions scientists still can't answer, anon

[justghostly-things]

Why Mike Wheeler should get Vecna'd

I might need to rant about Mike Wheeler (to like the surprise of no one.) because if it's gonna be anyone its gotta be him, right? I don't think he is gonna die, or it's gonna be the exact same as it was for Max. (Simply because we have seen it before.) but I don't think it would be beneficial to Vecna any of the other characters.

and assuming that the Duffer brothers aren't just bad writers we know Mike has been acting weird for two whole seasons now. (I personally think it was worse in season 3 but it was still strange in season 4.) The show established him a certain way in season 1 then nailed it into the coffin that this is who he is in season 2 but then season 3 rolls around and he is just... Different. (An ass) Of course, we have our theories and analysis (thank you, to anyone who have compiled all the hints into one place what would we do without you 😭This or This or This)

but still.

Since we are talking about Stranger Things S4 and S5 there are a lot of uncomfortable topics that are going to be mentioned, I do not go into details. I barely mention it. I do not describe anything, but I do talk about the themes. Please stay safe while reading

We should look at this in three ways.

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

Let's talk about Max first. Because we can work out the logic with her and then try and translate it to other characters.

I think its import for this section to know that what Max has delt with is a very scary real thing. Many children have a very similar life as Max, and all I am going to do is talk about them from within the show. I will say is you are not a bad person because you wish death on someone who is hurting you. But from here on I am talking about Max from both her Pov and Vecna's. None of these things are my thought or feeling on the greater topic of abuse and dysfunctional families.

From a story perspective why was Max the one who got Vecna'd and not like, Dustin or Lucas? If you answered because she watched Billy die. Yes. Anyone who understands a progression of a story can figure out why it makes sense for Max to be Vecna'd. We create this guy who shows you your trauma reflected back at you and then kills you as seen in both Fred (Nancy's friend) and Chrissy.

Which of the main cast of characters just went through a trauma event just the season before? Max.

I think if this is all you take from season 4 you have fundamentally forgotten one important thing about Max getting Vecna'd. It isn't just about the trauma of her watching her brother die. No, Vecna specifically targets the fact that Max deep-down wished-for Billy to die, she used to fantasize about it. It isn't just survival guilt. And we are shown this visually through Fred who also has survival guilt. Their trauma is different because Max's guilt isn't just about surviving. That is why it had to be Max. Because all of the characters could feel some sort of Survival guilt. They have watched so many people die and get hurt. it reveals two things. One is how Max truly feels about Billy's death, and two it tells us more about what Vacna is actually doing in the vision. Because he isn't just trying to torture a traumatized Max to the point that she willing to just give up. it is showing Max some "ugly truth" about her to herself. Because that is what Vecna is. Or thinks he is. He sees the world as horrible and should be corrected and the only way to do that is by "starting over". This is him showing max what is "wrong" with her and killing her (so he can start her over/create a new her)

I feel like I need to rewatch season 3 again because I can't remember exactly but I think Max most likely played a big part in season 3 where she kept meddling with Possessed Billy. (Mike did too but we will get to that(this thing is gonna be long btw)) She showed that she is willing and able to mess up Vecna's plans.

(It is kinda a debated if it was just the Mind Flayer or if it was Vecna himself that possessed Billy (and Will in season 2) but for the purpose of this we will say that he at least knows the role that Max (and Mike) played in the mall fight.)

All of this to say from Vecna's Perspective, he sees a group of kids who keep getting in the way, And they are all close to El? And one of these kids has extreme guilt about Billy? Yeah of course he targets her. It is so useful. It'll get to El and the rest of the party. Making them weaker and affect them emotionally so they are more likely to react irrationally. It's so perfect for him. Literally Max says so in the show.

and Max, (I can tell some people aren't gonna be happy with me for this so just know I love max so much please, but) she up until season 4 was a bit of a weird character. She is a confusing character. Especially in season 2, she has a lot of character inconsistencies. This video explains all of what I am talking about in this section this really well. but she isn't really a main character until season 4. She plays more of a supporting role. Especially in season 3 where she is helping El find part of independence. And yes, we know Max has a hard home life and how Billy is an ass to her. We know this but we don't really understand it until season 4. She just feels like an inconsistent character up until this point. (you know who else is an inconsistent character-) Her getting Vecna'd shows us a direct shot into her head and we can start to piece together the truth of her character. We really get to understand why she is inconsistent. And how it isn't a flaw of the writing, it's Max being 13 and dealing with a terrible home life.

the best part about it is that there are clues all over that are screaming at us and I can tell you right now that there were probably so many children who saw themself in Max. And people who were screaming about how this is why! It's because of her home life! while the rest of us were just calling it inconsistent writing. And yes, I am gonna bring it up because this is exactly what we see with Mike Wheelers character. Because the truth is that we haven't seen the whole story, we have barely seen anything of Mike for the last two seasons. (mentally i know he is on screen I mean mentally) we just have a theory on what is going on in his head. and I think it would be a waste not to use Vecna to do the same thing they did for Max for Mike and this is ignoring all of the parallels the two characters have. this is just from a story point of view and omg can you tell how passionate I am about this??

Now do i think it is impossible for any of the other character to get Vecna'd? No? it would probably be more similar to how Nancy got Vecna'd. Mostly because if my other theory is correct (is this shameless self-promotion?) I don't think there is time for like all the character to get Vecna'd.

But yeah, lets talk about a few of the character and why I do or don't think they could get Vecna'd. I will try to make this quick.

Steve: Steve is very interesting and I kind of wanna make like a character analysis about him at some point (probably after I rewatch the show) but I think it could go either way. Steves whole arc for the whole show is to show us how someone can change. Steve started as an ass and has slowly been evolving to become a better person. And I think there is a place for Vecna to come into that but idk if he needs it. I think Steve's can jump over the last hoop by himself (unlike some people who haven't even started jumping... (Mike)) Overall I don't think it will tell us anything we don't already know about Steve, but I can see Vecna wanting to incapacity Steve because of his physical strength. Dustin: Again, I am not sure what more Dustin getting Vecna'd will tell us about Dustin. If anyone has any thoughts, please don't be scared to let me know. I can see Vecna also wanting to take out Dustin because of his smarts. So strategically I can see this being something Vecna would want to "Take out" (but i am not sure how strategic Vecna is? I certainly don't think it would be the main reason that he targets someone.) Lucas: Idk, I think it would be great to have Lucus be more import to the plot but if he is gonna get Vecna'd it's gonna be about Max and him "teaming" up with the Basketball? guys. (I say hesitantly because I don't remember what sport it was...) Which we don't need to be told he feels bad about because he told us. So, idk. I guess we can talk about Will as well: but it's really all the same thing, I don't know what new information we can learn if we see him getting Vecna'd. Sure, its angsty and that might be reason enough for some people, but I know if I was writing Season 5, I wouldn't even consider it. We know almost everything that is plaguing Will. We see almost everything first hand. And sure, we knew about Billy for Max but like I said it was more than just "she watched Billy die" and sure maybe there is something I just don't see or don't know. I just don't see reason for this poor boy to go through more. The other thing is I don't see why Vecna would want to not just kill but make Will suffer. Make him have a pain full death? If Vecna wanted Will dead, Will would be dead. its plain and simple. the amount of times Vecna had Will in his grasps? I don't believe it was just luck. I would actually love to see if there aren't times where Will could be in danger, or it would make more sense for the danger to target will but for some reason it didn't, and he came out unscathed? (if I notice anything in my rewatch I will add it here) but yeah. also, there is all the parallels between Will and Vecna, so I think Vecna sees himself in will, maybe like how he saw himself in El and maybe will try and recite him. Idk but it seems (to me at least) that Vecna has more planed than, make him suffer and then die, in store for will. This is a really good analysis and this I agreed with on why Will was probably not gonna get Vecna'd. But it is a really good (and funny) video so go check it out if you haven't.

all of this is making me want to do an analysis on Vecna/henry. I don't think he is a partially new kind of villain, but I think it would be fun to try and dive into his head.

Hopeful this is my last point where I finally get to talk about my boy Mike wheeler. This is a Mike wheeler safe place. (I say as I am about to make my point on why he should go through pain and torture next season.)

I kind of have talked about some of this but let's dive into more detail (like we did with Max) and talk about my three main points

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

I feel like the story has been building up to this for a long time actually. Not only with the stalker shots that Mike is shot in but everything we see about his character. From how much we have seen his character change between season 2 and 3, to how little we actually know about Mikes inner workings. Mike is a puzzle right now. He is surrounded by character who are at least decently written and at most complex and compelling. And he is a main character? Like if Mike was a Minor or supporting character (like Erica and arguably robin) it would be weird sure but at least expectable. But Mike was THE main character in the opening season. We learn the most about him. And we see a lot of the story threw his eyes. And what? Were just going to throw all of that away? Like it was nothing?

But! I bring up the point I made about Max again. About what she was like in season two, what our impression of Max as a character and how that changed in season 4. The reason her character acted like that was because of things we didn't have connections for until season 4. All the parts were laid out in front of us they just needed to be connected. Mike getting Vecna'd will literally connect the dots for us. it'll show us an obvious and clear answer for what is wrong with Mike. Because how, honestly, are they going to show us all of these complex things that has been haunting Mike without a Vecna vision? It's the last season. We do not have endless time to unpack everything that is happening inside his head. Especially if the season is going to be as busy as I expect. We have like 20 other character who needs screen time, and we are getting introduced to more characters? And we have to fight the big bad? and there is gonna be a time skip (I swear to whatever higher being there is if they try to pull a "all Mikes' problems got fixed over the time skip" bs I am gonna be on the news for homicide. no-one will ever hear the end of it, omg. i don't even care if Byler becomes cannon, there will be war.) point is this matter is delicate and Mike lips on the matter are sealed so tight. If he hasn't said a word about this in 3 years he isn't gonna talk about it now. He needs a push, and Vecna is going to push him down a flight of stairs.

I do feel like I am repeating myself but it's crazy how similar Mike and Max character are. Almost like they are shining bright neon lights saying like look at this! notice this! and I know I am not the only one to point this out. But like what was stated in this video, Mike is almost the perfect person to Vecna'd , he not only has a connection with both El and Will. He, as Will would put it, is "the heart" of the party. He is connected to all the other character in some way. And if taking Max out would of killed motivation/ made the party unstable imagine what killing Mike would do to them? Which is why I do believe in the Mike was the original four victim theory (I think I saw someone go into more detail, but I can't find it. If I do, I will update with both links)

Also, remember when I mentioned that both Mike and Max have meddled with Vecna's plot in season 3, I just think I should point out how in the gym scene where they trap Billy in the sauna it is Mike taunting Him. And in season 2 he was the one who figured out that Will was possessed. All I can think of for season 1 is that he took El in and formed a kindling with her, which isn't strong evidence but idk maybe Vecna gets jealous easily idk.

And I think to understand this last point I would recommend watching or reading threw the links I linked all the way at the top of this discussion. but I would urge you to watch this at the very least: This video

if you haven't caught on yet, I do believe the Vecna visions are going to reveal to the audience that Mike is gay and has been the whole time. aemiron-main has a very good theory on how I think this is gonna go, because that falls into the same thought bubble as Max's. Where I think the theme isn't just that he is dealing with internalised Homophobia but his guilt surrounding his queerness. which we can easily explore through a vision. and it explains why he has been acting this way, especially in season 3. Like, can you even think about what this poor kid is going though mentally because, your best friend, literally your person got possessed, you watched as they lead to your friends new dad's death? like you can do nothing? and you blame yourself because if you had stop being gay for two seconds just to notice that there is something off about him you could have saved everyone? YEah I would be an asshole as well. Honestly, I think all the clues are there we just Vecna to piece them together.

And even in the very unlikely situation where I and like every other Byler are wrong about Mike being gay. Mike getting Vecna'd can only mean positive things for his character.

I feel like I had another point to make but I genuinely can't remember what it was T_T so, if I remember I will update this. But that is my point. Mike wheeler is gay and will be tormented by demonic infused visions of him being gay in the next season. so, you know. like an average Tuesday for any queer.

[vhenan-ma-ghilana]

how many more bleedin wips could i possibly have oml .................

is any of this visible on a device thats not apple cus the colours aren't colouring

(and unfortunately theres more where this came from rip me 😭😭😭 just sketching nonstop but not committing to colouring 💀)

[waywardstation]

the moment he remembered Emmet...

Out of all the moments to remembers... it's now...

Mishearing Ember for Emmet, subconciously reaching out to someone who isn't there. The fog surrounding his memories is lifting, returning to their original station.

I'm sure he's at the point where he's not fully there anymore. At this moment he's probably back in Unova waiting for Emmet, ready to finish off the day at the Battle Subway.

It has been a long day and he is eager to get some rest to sleep. Today he's extra tired from work. He's sure that Emmet is as well. He's so tired and he wants to rest. "Sleep" tugging at him.

The level of pain has been through the roof with this! But it is comforting that the next time he comes to be and is more clear there IS gonna be Emmet at his side along with Akari most mayhaps!

Gosh I already know this fic is gonna rip me to shreds but I'm gonna be all there for that!

And the WIPs and the way you're writing is definitely making this a ride I wanna be in until the end!

In regards to this IWLYB WIP I posted

Correct, Ingo is losing himself at the end here, probably not sure of what he is and isn’t supposed to be seeing or hearing anymore, and not being well enough to realize he should care that’s even happening. The brain is just going through everything it still has.

But man the way you phrase it, to him he is just waiting for Emmet after a long day of work and being tired and just wanting to sleep. Ohhh ow ow <;( OWW AUGH

But you are also correct in that his next lucid moment will be waking up to see Emmet and Akari. He’s got it easy past this point, just lose consciousness and wake up at the good part. Akari’s the one that’s left alone with all the hard work to get him to that point!

I’m so glad you’re looking forward to the fic and you’re enjoying the WIPs!! Thank you so much!!