#this verse is very very much must be made into a fic or SOMETHING i am far too invested to NOT be yk??

[thedeadthree]

the brainrot is brainrotting !!!!!!!! 🥀🥴🤧

[0oolookitsme]

Been Thinking

Type- One-Shoty Blurb

Verse- Dwd!Harry x Dwd!Y/n

Word Count- 1.6k

Warnings- Smut (soft dominance, a few curse words)

A/n- And, here's the first fic of kinktober!

Kinks- Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

Harry was just saving his last document of the day when a meeting was pulled. A meeting that could very well have been done over a few emails, but alas, they couldn't do something that would save their employees even a little of their time.

Thinking that he would only be a bit late, he went into the room not having any idea about his own self that'd be coming out of the same room with 8 files stacked up in his hand. All the ones that needed to be done tonight.

He sat on his chair with all the files sprawled across his desk, and looked at his empty coffee cup in dread. He did not have it in him to go and fetch himself some. So, as unwilling as he was, he defeatedly called the general assistant. Her job was to do just that – it was just Harry who couldn't benefit from it much often considering her infatuation with him.

"A coffee please," he said just when she peeked through the door, slipping his cup that Y/n had left there for him across the desk to have her stay as away from him as possible.

She didn't seem much chirpy today though, considering she just took the cup and left silently – without making any shot at him. It made Harry feel a little relieved, the thought of her finally backing off.

Without much thought, he powered on his laptop and at the same time, dialled up Y/n. He was just calling to let her know that he wouldn't be coming home for the night. And she was normal about it, cursing his office a bit and making him laugh.

It was when he was about to wish her a good night that she muttered something in a small, frail voice. Harry felt alarmed that something was wrong but he figured the problem when she repeated herself on his demand.

"Was thinking about you all day," she said, and after a long pause wished him a good night, hanging up a little later than normal – as if she was waiting for some kind of response. A response that Harry stupidly enough couldn't give. He was just so shocked at her words – she had never been this loud with her needs before. Yes, it's only been six months in their arranged wedding but… still.

Feeling like a prick, he decided to give it a rest. Putting his phone on the desk and just wishing for the coffee to be down his throat already.

Opening up files on his laptop, his head couldn't help but replay the little voice she had very kindly – and indirectly – voiced her needs to him. She said that she had been thinking about him all day, which must mean that she was also eager for him to come home tonight.

God, he can't believe what he's just done. Turned down the needs of the woman who's been making him weak in his knees ever since she's been with him, just because he was too stunned to speak? Rubbing his palm over his hair and fixing his hair a bit, he decided to call her back.

Not the regular call. But, a video call.

He wasn't ready for her to pick up on the first ring. But when he saw her face, he knew that she hadn't intended to pick up. Her hair was a little tousled, lips bitten and plump, eyes a little hazy and, because he squinted, he saw a fine layer of sweat on her forehead.

She surely wasn't sleeping or crying, but Harry shouldn't be thinking about what she really was doing – even though it was as clear as his eye sight.

He immediately opened his mouth and I speak before she could panik. "Don't hang up!" He said quickly. "Please," he trailed off when she paused. For a moment, all he could see was their bedroom ceiling but then she picked up the phone again – her hair now a little matted and sweat wiped off her face.

"I- uh, I'm sorry. I was just-" she stuttered, trying to come up with an explanation, with a lie. However, a shushing sound came through the phone, catching her off guard.

"It's okay, Y/n," he said and she felt a flutter in her stomach at the sound of her name from his mouth. "It should be me apologizing. And I-I'm very sorry," he said, looking at himself with slight disgust in his own brain at his words.

Looking away from him and probably picking at the bedsheet, "it's okay," she said, just as shyly.

"So, tell me. What were you thinking, Y/n?" He spoke, and she couldn't help but clench her thighs tighter.

"Nothing… just about when you'll be home and what would you like for dinner and stuff," she mumbled and while that was a very innocent answer, Harry couldn't help but see past the bullshit.

Humming, he pretended he was thinking hard about something. "Well, I'm not coming home tonight now, am I, darling?" He teased her, feeling more and more dominant in the situation as the time passed by.

Y/n only nodded in response, her eyes never once staying still.

"You can pretend all you want, love. But I can see the fucking mess you've made of yourself," he said impatiently, his voice now hoarse in an attempt to be a little quiet. And also, because under all the nervousness, Y/n's hand had lowered and he could see her red finger prints on her breasts, from when he imagined she was gripping them.

He could see the tips of her ears turn pink, yet she didn't make any effort to cover herself.

"Make that mouth of yours useful, and tell me – were you really thinking about that? Hm?"

"No," she breathed, rolling her lips in and shifting on the bed. "Just wanted you," she continued.

"Where baby?"

"Anywhere. Just wanted you so bad," she whispered lightly, a slight tingle in her nose.

Harry licked his lips, feeling worse about having to stay the night. "Look at you, poor thing. I'm very sorry baby, can't do much from here." He sighed. Leaning back, he put in his airpods. "Help me out a little, will you?" He more of suggested and only smiled when she agreed.

Getting impatien, he cut right to the subject. "Touch yourself for me. I'm here, and I'm listening," he told her, also surprising her.

She hesitated but lied back down when he cooed at her, muttering sweet names as her hand crawled lower and lower. "I can't see you, sweet girl. Put your phone on my bedside table," Harry instructed her, and she did it quickly, desperate for anything type of touch now.

The wetness had started slipping out of her. Her thighs felt wet whenever they rubbed and she was sure some of it was on the bedsheet as well. She knew, that if she touched herself now, she wouldn't be able to last for long. Her nipples were perky and sensitive – a whimper left her mouth with every accidental graze in them.

"Go on, Y/n. Won't give it to your husband?" He said, and Y/n swears she could've came right then and there. Instead, a moan slipped past her lips, and she heard him curse under his breath.

He saw as her hand cover her core, could see her inner thigh that was away from him glistening, and god, does he hate his boss. When her knuckles started moving, Harry could tell that she was in ecstasy. Small sounds started escaping her mouth and the moment she looked at him and sucked her fingers – Harry knew that he hadn't married a woman as innocent as he had thought.

Breathing out with each stroke on her clit, her back arched off the bed. "What are you thinking, Y/n?" She heard him ask, and without much thought she told him.

"About you, Harry. Your fingers, your cock, your mouth," she ranted, her pace increasing with each word.

Harry saw how she was slipping out of her shell, voicing her fantasies to him. And just when he was about to tease her, he heard something. Then again, and again.

She said she was going to come. No, she was yelling his name. No, she's chasing her high, and she's yelling his name. "Fucking hell, Y/n." He gritted through his teeth, feeling like he was going to burst just by the sight of her and the yell of his name in her voice.

"Fuck, I already love you moaning my name," he grunted.

Y/n was long lost now, her hips chasing her own hand as she continued moaning his name.

Harry saw her thighs start to quiver and he prayed that they'd be around his head the next time – while he sucked on her again and again. "I can't hear you – louder, baby." He urged her own, feeling pleasure in her pleasure.

"Fuck, Harry!" She screamed right when her thighs cleanched around her hand. Her other hand kneading her boob a little lightly now.

Her cheeks were flushed, sweat coated her hairline and her forehead, her eyes were squeezed shut and her body shook as her hand was still rubbing her core, getting her through her high.

Slowly and slowly, her hand came out of the cage of her thighs, and went right up to her mouth as she once again looked at him while sucking on them. A smile creeped up on her mouth and once she got a hold of her phone again, she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight of his sweaty face.

"You really don't know the things you do to me, Y/n," he said hoarsely, letting his head fall back and shutting his eyes tightly..

"Neither did you until now," she shrugged with a grin spreading on her face, and she knew she was in too deep when he chuckled.

[fyreflys]

Prompt if you’d like it! Peeta giving his cold to Katniss on accident but since she no longer has a spleen, it turns into a more flu like illness for poor Katniss and Peeta must nurse her back to health (similar to her caring for him in the cave but ya know… #married)

Oooo this is an adorable idea! And I got another prompt that I think I can include that would work perfectly together. MERGE TIME!

Chicken Noodle Soup

(Katniss’s POV) - Love and Some Verses, Iron & Wine

Everlark period/sick-fic, just fluff fluff fluff

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you sick.”

Is what Peeta keeps telling her. Constantly apologizing for transferring his cold. Even though Katniss didn’t even bother trying to keep her distance to avoid getting sick, so really it’s her own fault.

Katniss is pretty sure that no one ever really intentionally tries to get others sick, it’s always an accident. Happens as a result of what being sick means. And she knows Peeta didn’t do it on purpose, he couldn’t possibly have wanted to make her sick as a dog. So the fact that he keeps apologizing, as if there’s any possibility that he did do this on purpose, is beginning to make it feel like maybe he did. That, and it’s getting annoying. Very quickly.

“Peeta,” she groans, “Just- shut up.”

She doesn’t actually mean that. He’s really the only thing keeping her sane right now. She’s been bed ridden for three days now, and if her body didn’t feel like shit, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for a hike in the woods.

“Sorry.” He whispers, dabbing the wet washcloth on her forehead.

Yesterday Peeta dragged her to the doctor, because he’s convinced she’s dying. The doctor just confirmed it’s a bad cold, made worse by the fact that Katniss no longer has a spleen to help her immune system. He gave them some medication that “might” help, and then sent them on their way.

Needless to say, Katniss was not happy. Mostly because Peeta had dragged her out of the house when she felt like shit for no apparent reason.

Peeta was angry too. Kept mumbling something about “malpractice” and the doctor being an “idiot” and then trying to convince her that they need to go to the Capital, to see a “real” doctor.

“Peeta, I’m not sure if you have forgotten, but I’m in exile. Banned, to stay here in twelve for the rest of my life. So no, we cannot go to the Capital.”

She doesn’t mention the fact that she really doesn’t want to be re-reminded of all the terrible things that they’ve seen and had happen to them; most of which happened in the Capital.

“You’re the mockingjay. If something was majorly wrong with you, they’d have to save you.”

“I don’t want to be the mockingjay, anymore.” She’d grumbled as he tucked her back into bed, “and I’ve lived through worse than this.”

He frowned. Much like he is right now, as he looks at her with those big, blue, pleading puppy dog eyes.

“What?” She rasps.

He licks his lips. “I just…I’m so sorry you’re sick.”

She swears his heart is too big for his own good.

“You know what would make me feel better?” She sighs.

He perks up. “What?”

“Cuddle.” She whispers. She’d usually reach out to grab him, but her body feels too much like lead to exert that much energy.

He smiles. “I can do that.”

He peels back the bedsheets, and Katniss shivers at what feels like freezing air. He curls in behind her, gently squeezing her close. She melts against him. The arm around her warm and comforting. Until his hand slips under her shirt and his fingers start tracing patterns on her side, and he begins to pepper kisses to her shoulders. Despite them being small and gentle touches, her nerves feel overly sensitive with how feverish she is, and each soft graze almost feels painful.

“Stop- please,” she whispers, “that- too sensitive.” She mumbles.

“Oh. Sorry.” He places one more peck to her cheek, and then leaves her be.

She falls into sleep like a rock tossed down a ravine, skipping sleep entirely and diving straight into dreams. The world feels like it’s tilting and spinning around her as she dreams. They start out as strange and uncomfortable, but somewhere along the way they get more and more unhinged, twisted visions persisting, until finally-

She startles awake suddenly, eyes snapping open as she gasps for air. The nightmare feels plastered to her eyelids.

“Peeta?” She croaks softly, heart hammering in her chest as a tear slips down her cheek.

But she’s alone. Peeta is nowhere to be seen. She forces herself to reach across the bed behind her in search of him. But he’s not there either.

Momentarily she fears he’s abandoned her, but then she realizes that’s ridiculous. She couldn’t escape him even if she wanted to.

She tries to shake the nightmare from her head. Desperately trying to imagine something else, like- Deer. Deer and squirrels, prancing through the forest. The nightmare was not real not real not real, as Peeta would say.

She takes a deep breath. Her entire body aches painfully. Specifically her lower back and her hips and- oh.

Even sick, and aching all over, she knows this feeling well.

“Damn it.” She huffs.

She supposes it was about time this happened again. She doesn’t bother keeping track. There’s no use with how irregular she is.

“Peeta.” She calls, but her voice is weak.

He doesn’t come. Where is he? She sighs. She’s going to have to do this herself, isn’t she?

She wills herself to gather any remaining energy she has to sit up. It takes a few minutes to convince herself.

I could just wait here, until he comes back-

No.

She sits up suddenly, impulsively, not giving herself a chance to talk herself out of it. Her head spins, pain pounding through her skull. She coughs, clutching her head.

When the throbbing passes she manages to will her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. And then on the count of three she stands. She’s shaky, and the air is freezing agaisnt her feverish skin, and it’s awful.

Just get to the bathroom-

She makes it a few steps towards the door. And then she stumbles. She just barely catches the doorknob. She sends the door slamming closed as she falls.

“Katniss?!” Peeta shouts from down stairs.

She rolls over onto her back, and the world feels like it’s still spinning. He comes rushing into the bedroom, crouching down when he sees her.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Hands are immediately at her head, feeling for any bumps or bleeding, “What happened? Why are you out of bed?”

He sits and sets her head in his lap, brushing hair out of her face.

“Bathroom.” She whispers. “Just. Fell.”

“You should have called for me I would have helped.”

“I did.” She breathes, and even talking is exhausting. With Peeta right above her the world finally stops spinning.

He frowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was making pasta.”

She takes in a breath through her mouth, nose too stuffy. “Bathroom.”

“Well- I think we should take a moment. You just- what, fell trying to walk? That’s pretty concerning,” He feels her forehead, “and you’re really burning up, gosh.”

She could have told him she had a fever. It feels like it’s radiating through her bones.

“Toilet,” her tongue clicks softly in her mouth, feeling dry, “Bleeding.”

“Bleeding? What- where? Why didn’t you say you were bleeding! Oh my god-“ he starts to shuffle, pulling at her clothes to find the source.

“Period.” She groans, just about fed up with him.

“Oh.” He pauses. “Right. Okay. Let’s get that taken care of then.”

He shuffles to sit her up against the wall, and then scoops her up bridal style. He carefully sets her down by the toilet, holding on as he pulls down her sweats and underwear in one fell swoop.

And yep- there it is. A massacre in her pants.

Peeta helps her sit, making sure she’s stable enough to sit up on her own. He pulls off her sweats and underwear, turning on the sink to set them in.

“Cold,” she whispers.

“Cold? You’re cold?”

Well- yeah, she kind of is. Despite feeling like she’s burning up from the inside, the floor and the toilet seat and the air is freezing against her skin. But she’s referring to the water.

“Yeah,” she breathes, “But-water. Cold water.”

“You need cold water? I can get you water. You’re probably thirsty you’ve been asleep for like four hours.”

Okay, yes, that too. She could use a glass of water.

“Yes, but- blood. Needs cold water.”

“Oh! Yeah, okay. Cold water. Right.”

She closes her eyes, slumping on the toilet as she pees. Peeta leaves to grab stuff from the bedroom. He returns with a fresh pair of clothes. He holds a cup of water up to her lips, and she sips. It feels like heaven down her throat.

“Thanks.” She breathes.

He just pecks her forehead. “How bout I run you a short bath? Luke warm. Try to get your body temp down. And you could really use a shower.”

She groans.

“I know- I know. But it will make you feel better, I promise.”

She just grumbles. He gets to work running a bath, and then scrubs the blood out of her underwear under the sink. He struggles to get a pad into the clean pair of undies, and Katniss finally wills herself to use the little energy she does have to show him. He kisses her cheek.

“Right. Got it. Now let’s get you in.”

She complains, but doesn’t have the energy to fight against him. He pulls off her sweaty t-shirt, and picks her up and sets her down in the tub. The water feels freezing at first. She yelps, clutching at him.

“I know- I know it feels cold but I promise it will help. You’re burning up Katniss. We need to cool you down.”

She holds onto him, and he presses kisses against her head. After a few minutes it starts to feel okay. He gently pours water through her hair. He scrubs in shampoo and rinses. He gently scrubs her with a warm soapy washcloth after he pulls the drain, just under her arms and between her legs, barely batting an eye at the blood. They’ve both seen enough of it for a lifetime. He turns on the shower head to rinse her off. The water feels like freezing needles against her overly sensitive skin. By the time he gets her out and finishes toweling her off she’s pissed.

She glowers at him from the toilet as he dresses her. He ignores her scathing eyes as he sprays in conditioner and brushes her hair, fumbling to put it in a makeshift braid.

“There! See, all better!” He smiles when he’s done.

She is not amused. Yes, her body feels less like a boiling fire, but she still hurts. And despite him doing all the work, she’s exhausted. But she’s too angry and stubborn to admit it, or even consider closing her eyes for some shut eye.

He chuckles. “You’re such a sourpuss when you’re sick, you know that?”

“That was hell.” She snips.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah yeah, okay Haymitch.”

He pulls her off the toilet and pulls up her underwear and pants. He gently scoops her up.

“You want to set up camp downstairs on the couch? That way it’s easier to get my attention if you need something. Also I’m making you soup.”

She gives a grunt, and winces as the pain that radiates up and down her spine and belly.

“I’ll grab you some painkillers.” He adds on.

She would usually turn those down. But at this point she’ll take them.

He gently lays her on the couch. He runs back upstairs to grab linens. He comes back down with arms full of blankets and pillows. He drops them in a heap on the floor. He leaves again. Katniss looses track of all the things he runs off and gets, eyes slipping closed.

He takes her temperature.

He hisses, “One o’ two. Yeah. You’re definitely getting meds.” Which he shoves into her mouth very shortly afterward. He tries not to look worried, but she can tell that he is. She’s worse than she was yesterday. He forces her to take the medication the doctor gave them the day before. She doesn’t have the energy to fight him.

He tucks her in under one blanket, but gives her plenty of pillows. He sets tissues and a glass of water on the side table next to her head. He kisses her forehead.

“Anything else you need?” He says softly.

Probably. But right now she’s exhausted. And talking is too much energy. So she just hums.

“Okay. Soup should be ready in thirty minutes or so. Do you want me to wake you up or let you sleep?”

Truthfully, she wants him to curl in beside her on the couch and not leave her side. Because with him pressed against her, she has a semblance of relief.

Instead she just grunts. He pecks her forehead again, chuckling softly.

“Okay.”

And then she’s left alone. And despite being tired, she can’t seem to fall sleep. The pain is just too much. Enough that she’d toss and turn, but she doesn’t have the energy to do so. So instead she lays motionless in agony, waiting for meds to kick in.

It’s possible she does drift off. But it seems like each time her eyes open the grandfather clock by her mothers old bedroom door hasn’t moved an inch.

Finally Peeta reappears, with a steaming bowl in hands.

“Chicken noodle soup, for m’lady.” He bows, just for the dramatics.

He helps her sit up, and carefully spoons it to her lips. With how much pain shes in, the thought of food makes her nauseous. But Peeta coaxes her to eat. And she does. One small spoonful at a time. With how stuffed her nose is she can barely taste it, but what she does taste is good.

And it reminds her of the cave, in their first games. As she spoon fed him. Monitoring his leg. Trying everything she could think of to keep him alive.

Thankfully, now is nothing like that. This is peaceful, and warm, and safe.

With food in her belly she realizes how hungry she is. And she just about scarfs down the rest of the bowl, along with the hunk of bread he dips in the broth. And she feels like she has a little more energy.

“You want more?” He asks softly.

She shakes her head. She feels too full. Any more and she might puke.

“Your appetite is back. That’s a good thing.”

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She grumbles.

“Like- actually?” He freezes, shifting as if ready to grab a bin.

“No- just- a lot of food. Nauseous from the pain.”

He frowns. “The pain meds should have kicked in already. You look better. Less pale.” He feels her forehead. “You don’t feel as hot.”

She winces. “Cramps.”

His face relaxes. “Oh.”

She closes her eyes. With a full belly she’s ready to pass out.

“What if…I tried to rub them out?” He says softly.

Her eyes flicker open lazily. “Please. And- my back- please.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He leans in press a kiss to her forehead.

He gently pushes her to lay down. He tugs up her shirt and pulls the waistband of her pajama pants lower.

“Where does it hurt?” He asks softly.

She slowly moves to touch, fingers almost feeling numb against her own skin as she traces just inside of her pelvic crests, and down below her belly button. His warm hands are still almost too much against her feverish skin when he reaches out. But she needs this.

He’s far too gentle.

“Harder,” she whispers, “like bread.”

He’s good at kneading bread.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“There’s no way you could make me feel worse than I already do. Please.”

And finally his palms and thumbs press in. She urges more, and more, and finally gets impatient and shifts his hands to press right there and- oh. It feels so good she actually moans.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” She gasps.

He grins wickedly. But doesn’t comment on any more of her breathless gasps as he digs in and finally gives her relief.

“When- you’re done,” she breathes, “gonna need- bathroom.”

He pauses, “Do you have to pee? I’m literally pressing like right on your bladder-“

“No- new pad.” Because he’s quite literally kneading the blood right out of her. Which would usually be disgusting, but right now the relief feels too good for her to care.

“Oh. Okay.” And he keeps going.

She nearly falls asleep with his hands on her stomach. She still hurts, and the pain still radiates through her bones, but the stretch of her cramping muscles is almost heavenly. She closes her eyes, and Peeta presses kisses to her shoulders, trailing down to her stomach. He rubs softly after he pulls back, hands sliding over her hips.

“You want me to do your back?” He asks softly.

She hums. He helps flip her over. His hands and fingers roam over her skin, pressing and pulling all the way up her spine and between her shoulders. She practically melts into the couch as he soothes her aches. His lips ghost over her skin in subtle kisses, and she never wants it to end.

Eventually he pulls away, tugging her shirt back down.

“Bathroom?” He asks.

She grumbles. “Don’t wanna move.”

He hums. He forces her off the couch anyways, and drags her to the bathroom. She changes things herself, and then he helps her back to the couch.

“I’m gonna eat and then we can snuggle. If you want. I can turn on the TV.”

She just grunts. He turns on the screen above their fireplace mantle, and flips through channels. He lands on a show they’ve binge watched over the years, and then leaves for the kitchen. She zones out the sounds and clatter that he makes. Finally he sits down by her feet with a bowl of soup, and her eyelids feel heavy. She drifts halfway between awake and asleep, until he curls up with her. He presses a kiss to her temple.

“Thank you.” She whispers. He’s done more than enough for her. And she knows he’d do everything if he had to. And she is thankful.

“Of course.” He breathes. And pecks her lips.

She smiles, and uses the little energy she does have to snake an arm around him and hold him close. Their foreheads knock together.

“I love you.” He breathes softly.

She hums, “Love you too.”

[danganronpa96]

If you were to rewrite DR69 at any point, is there anything you would change? E.g. plot points, deaths, or just how you would write some characters differently now

I've actually answered this question before in this post here!

I still agree with all three points I made in that post. However, a think a big retcon I didn't touch upon is the chapter 4 case. Now, it's not the murder case itself I would change, but Sans' motivation towards killing Peter is something that would benefit from a re-write.

For context, I originally had planned, very early on, for Sans' reason for dealing the final blow on Peter with the bat would be due to provocation about his brother. You must be wondering, "right, like in canon." Well... it was a little bit different. You see, Peter, in this scenario, would reveal he killed Papyrus, which would have set Sans off the edge.

Now, why would Peter have killed Papyrus? How would he have even done so? I literally do not know. Back then, a lot of the questions surrounding the multi-verse plot thread hadn't been answered, so my mind was more free to create scenarios like that. I guess I thought I could somehow make it work later on, but since it never did, I ended up keeping the scenario the same, but without any of the heavy implications needed to really explain why Sans got to worked up over what Peter said. So, I think that's why people usually criticise that part of the fic often.

Of course this isn't me giving an excuse, this is just me explaining why things ended up this way. I really could have come up with something else that could've provoked Sans as much as the initial plan, but I just didn't lol

What would I do to change things, then? Well, either bring back the possibility of pre-DR69 lore where Peter did end up killing Papyrus for some reason. However if I did do that, UDG69 couldn't exist the way it is. Or, I could have Peter threaten someone else close to Sans that was physically there in the school, aka Nagito. In that case, Sans would be more justified in his reasoning to attack Peter in order to protect him. Extra tragic sansmaeda for the soul

[sofasoap]

Death, comes easily.

Pairing: Simon " Ghost" Riley x f!Reader/OC ( aka "Mini" MacTavish )

Summary: The threat never stops. Inspired by the piccadilly circus mission.

Warning : Mature theme, Violence, swearing. Angst. open ending ( possible happy ending? if you want. )

A/N : I had this idea while commuting to work, and wrote it within 20 minutes before seeing my first patient. I just had to get it out. So expect lots of mistakes. English isn't my first language. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Turn back now if you don't like it.

Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic " “The Favorite MacTavish” " which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background. Thank you for leading me your character.

"masterlist" for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

You woke up with blurred vision and pounding headache.

Blinking rapidly, trying to get a better look at your surrounding. There's carnages everywhere. How did you get here? One minute you were browsing around the for replacement of broken kettle, and the next thing you heard a huge blast, which must have knocked you out.

Something wet start to drip into your eyes, you try to raise your hand to wipe it, and realise you were tied up. Looking down, you have this huge military like vest on you, with wires and what looks like explosives.

Gunshot sounds echoes in the building. More shouting and screaming.

Suddenly you saw four men storming up the staircase, scouting the area.

One of them has a skull face mask on.

"….. Simon." You called out to him, voice hoarse.

Ghost's eye met yours, you see it widen, a flash of fear.

"Mini!!!" Hearing your brother's voice calling out to you, you turn your focus to the other three men, running up towards you.

"What.. what happened?"

" Terrorist attack. They set multiple bombs off around Piccadilly circus." Soap explained as he hovers over you, assessing the situation. " Fucken steaming Jesus." He cursed. Soap is demolition specialist, but disarming bombs are slightly out of his league.

Price and Gaz kneeled down beside you, intense worry shown on their face.

"Bravo 6 to base. Request bomb squad specialist to our location IMMEDIATELY. I repeat, URGENT."

"Captain, there's only FIVE minute timer left on this, we need to get started immediately ourselves." Gaz commented.

"I'll do it." Ghost volunteered. There is no way he is going to stand on the side and do nothing to help you to get out of danger.

Swiftly following instructions relay on by the squad specialist, along with Soap's expertise, the men started dismantling the bomb. Coming up to the last two wires,

" Red or Blue." and you saw all four of the men frowned.

" I ASK RED OR BLUE…. WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S RANDOM!!!" Ghost shouted. He is starting to lose his cool.

" Three minutes left .. " Gaz commented. You starting to sense distress and worry from the men.

Closing your eyes, you whispered out your decision. "Just go boys.. I can't let all you go down with me."

" We can't leave you here. I AM NOT LEAVING YOU HERE." Simon rejected.

" Simon, the kid need their dad," Looking at Soap, Price and Gaz, " And their uncles."

" AND I NEED YOU." You can hear the strain in his voice.

Opening your eyes again, you turn towards your brother. "Johnny. Just go. Look after the kids for us with Emma. Tell the kids I love them. and Ma and Pa too.. Gaz, Uncle Price, Thank you for everything." you whispered.

Price nodded. He made a lot of difficult decision in his life. This will probably the one that will haunt him for rest of his life. After the three of them gave you a quick kiss and hug, they started pulling back. You can hear Soap's anguish cry as they leave the building.

".. You know I love you very much right Simon? A Lot."

" I know love. I know…" He pulled his skull mask off. Tears streaming down his face. Taking a deep breath, he lean in for a kiss as he cut the wire.

[triptychgrip]

What if a drunken/accidental livestream led the public to find out about the Sochi banquet, four years after the fact?

MOTHERing_Heights commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:15am Love your posts, as always.

Regarding theories as to how the ISU kept banquet details from leaking…we all know the organization is all but broke, so they probably didn’t bribe any of the skaters to not mention it through $$$. More than likely, Viktor “I Have Gorgeous Eyes But Cross Me And I’ll Shoot Laser Beams Out Of Them” Nikiforov probably made every banquet attendee swear not to leak anything, realizing Yuuri might not want that level of media attention.

We now know Viktor didn’t realize Yuuri was that drunk, so his desire for discretion back then was probably more along the lines of “well I’m so famous and this level of scrutiny is something Yuuri probably isn’t used to, best to keep this quiet” and less of the “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul, gotta keep this hush hush” variety.

1 response to MOTHERing_Heights Lets_Get_You_To_Bed_Grandma commented: 12-09-2019 at 07:25am ajldkfjlskdaldkflskdf “Woe is me! My future husband was trashed the night he captured my soul…” This honestly sent me to the moon....why is this totally something Viktor would have thought?!

I’m now imagining him pacing and hand-wringing in his/Yuuri’s hotel room at the Barcelona GPF the night he found out that Yuuri didn’t know (the same night of their engagement, apparently?!). Oh, to be a fly on that wall…

And speaking of hand-wringing, can we all spare a moment of silence for the freaking PINING Viktor must have undergone during that 4 month gap between Sochi and hauling ass to Japan?? I’m wondering if he consoled himself in the meantime by commissioning a fanfic writer to bring to life all of his lovelorn fantasies on the page? Or, perhaps he went the route of us mere mortals and stalked Yuuri’s (formerly nonexistent) social media outlets? LMAO

---

Ahh, in-universe social media freak-outs: I love writing them, and the above excerpt/text message image is from my latest one-shot: part 1 of an eventual 3-part series about the aftermath in the event that the public finds out about the Sochi GPF Banquet shenanigans, four years after the fact.

As in: well after the Yuuri of my fic-verse wins gold at the 2018 Winter Olympics, as well as after he and Viktor get married.

The ensuing chaos has the potential for humor, of course, but also major feels, which is what attracted me to wanting to write about it in the first place

In my fic-verse, our YOI faves are having a hell of a time in Turin, Italy, enjoying themselves at the 2019 GPF Banquet, which ends up being a celebration of Yuuri winning his second GPF title (just a few points ahead of Yurio).

Due to Mila and Sara's peer pressure, Yuuri and Yurio drink far too much of the locally reknown grappa, which leads them to 1) set off together in search of more substantial food than the slim hors d'oeuvres pickings, and 2) accidentally go live on Instagram while discussing what went down in Sochi (well, it's more like Yurio slurring in his explanation and Yuuri interjecting now and again with incoherent "wait a secccc, tha' wuzz me? I did that?!" exclamations)

Needless to say, when a few Yuri's Angels record the live and upload it online, the internet EXPLODES; up until this point, everyone had believed Yuuri and Viktor's relationship origins to be pretty straightforward: they've been together since October 2016 and since then, they've never hinted at anything even slightly chaotic happening in Sochi.

Part 1 focuses on everyone's initial reactions the morning after Yuuri and Yurio's livestream; part 2 will be hurt/comfort-focused, as both Viktor and Yuuri grow insecure (though, for very different reasons); and the final part will feature Yuuri and Viktor hosting their own (sober) livestream to "take command of the narrative", as Yuuri's extremely stressed publicist suggests

I hope this overview piques your interest in my story, or encourages you to check out my other Yuri!!! on Ice works

[zozo720]

Today on "lukewarm takes nobody cares about" All my problems with Legends Arceus, specifcally the story-related ones, come down to how unbelievably rushed the "true" ending feels The main ending with Origin Form Dialga/Palkia? It's good, it's fine, it's a climax that the game does a good job building up to. Kamado is an ass but that's clearly intentional, and at least he has a clear motive and all that.

The postgame ending feels like they came up with the Volo fight first, and then had to scramble to create literally any justification for it to happen. They basically just gave him Cyrus's motivation, made him look vaguely "crazy and evul XD" and hand-waved it as "Oh, the Celestica tribe is involved".

And I must ask... who even ARE the Celestica people at this point? They're VERY vaguely talked about in the Old Verses, it's implied Cogita wrote them, which implies that she's the last Celestican, which implies that Volo MIIIIGHT be a descendant of them, which is why he says "the blood of the ancient Sinnoh people flows through my veins". Please note how much I said "Implies". There's having hidden lore and leaving it up for interpretation, and then there's vaguely shrugging and dumping incoherent, very-easy-to-miss text. All this is to say, Volo's motives are indecipherable, not because he's a multi-dimensional character, but because they don't bother elaborating on them, he's just a helpful friendly guy the whole game and then BAM, he was actually evil and crazy all along! It's no wonder fan interpretations of him range from "tragic sexy sad-boy who's upset because his indigenous people were wiped out for unknown reasons" and "insane murder-man who's immortal and for some reason, really likes screwing with NYC subway conductors from the future. Also he's sexy." And then there's the Arceus ending. Simply put, WHY is there nothing to say that the player character would be able to go home? I've seen several responses genuinely upset at the prospect of the MC being stuck in Hisui forever, possibly ripped away from their life and family. And even if you assume the MC has no problem staying in Hisui forever, that doesn't address the Copperajah in the room that is Ingo.

Now, Ingo being in PLA was cool back when the game first came out, but over time, it's become apparent that this was a pretty lame move. Most PLA discussion and fics are centered solely around either him or Volo (usually with ableist stereotypes in abundance) all at the expense of the other genuinely interesting cast of PLA.

And of course, of COURSE, they don't bother resolving his arc at all. The most he gets is an implication that his memories might return, but then what? He'll still be stuck in Hisui, except now he can remember what he's lost? Is this Arceus's "grand plan" or something? Now sure, for gameplay reasons, the player would wanna stay so they can keep playing the game, but there are so many ways to write around that, as demonstrated by the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon series. That series always ends with the MC having to return home or disappear, but they always come back somehow. There's always some justification for it. In Legends Arceus, nothing gets truly resolved aside from the conflict with Kamado and Dialga/Palkia. Volo? His goals with Giratina are stopped and he just gets to walk away scot-free. No punishment, and no elaboration on his motives. Cogita and the Celestica tribe? All we get are allusions and vagueries in the Incarnate Forces sidequest. Arceus's mission to "seek out all Pokemon"? Your reward is that he invites you to his space apartment and beats the stuffing out of you. The Player/Ingo? Stranded in Hisui with, as of now, no canon return home.

[usmsgutterson]

Would That I- N.L x gn! reader

all right! This one was requested by @ell0ra-br3kk3r! I’m posting it a while after it was written just to try to get used to using the queue function a bit more frequently because while I have used it a lot lately I still feel like I might fuck up from time to time lol

otherwise, notes with this fic include that, while is a songfic, with the last part (it goes from chorus to verse and then to chorus to conclude the song) I didn’t follow the songs structure and just ended the fic off with the final verse because I was afraid of getting repetitive with the parts of the fic where the chorous is concerned

Fic type- this is mostly fluff

Warnings- mentions of heartbreak/jealousy

True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree - a willow dancing on air before covering me - under cotton and calicoes - over canopy dappled long ago - true that love in withdrawal was the weepin' of me - that the sound of the saw must be known by the tree - must be felled for to fight the cold - fretted fire but that was long ago

It was no secret to anyone in the palaces that you and Nikolai both had your own separate romantic pasts. Nikolai had himself a string of flings to speak of, and while yours was a bit more spaced out, you had experienced your fair share of romance, too.

But, as it usually did at one point or another, romance coupled up with heartbreak. Nikolai had experienced it but a few times in his life, and each time it had made his heart just a bit more steely, amped up his charm piece by piece until it was something through which nobody could break.

And you? heartbreak had not turned your heart into steel. If anything, it had made you cautious but still willing to wear your heart on your sleeve. You cared about people because it was your instinct, your first thought, what you would do for the rest of your life. You loved and you loved openly, not fearing heartbreak because in your view, you had certainly been through worse. 

Nikolai could say that such traits as your inexplicable ability to care for people were traits of yours that he certainly admired, perhaps had even begun to love, but there would always exist the part of him that did not view love as something to be joyous about any longer. 

After a point, after many-a-heartbreak, love became a risk. It became a risk that Nikolai was near unwilling to take, but that didn’t mean he didn’t contemplate it sometimes when he looked at you. 

Sometimes love didn’t end as it had always ended in his experience. Heartbreak did not always have to be the end result. The end result very well could’ve been marriage and a life so happy that Nikolai never experienced heartbreak of any sort ever again. 

But the risk was always there, so Nikolai walled up his heart and tried not to let you tear the walls down. 

It's not tonight (Oh, oh) - where I'm set alight (Oh, oh) - and I blink in sight (Oh, oh)- of your blinding light (Oh, oh) - oh, it's not tonight (Oh, oh) - where you hold me tight (Oh, oh) - and the fire bright (Oh, oh) - oh, let it blaze alright (Oh, oh) - oh, but you're good to me, oh, you're good to me (Oh, oh) - oh, but that you're good to me, baby (Oh, oh)

Somewhere, though Nikolai could not quite figure out where, the line between how much time he spent with you and without you began to blur. Somehow, piece by piece, you’d begun to take down the walls he’d built around his heart, and for some reason, he let you. 

Letting people in was harder than keeping them out, but after a drunken night of conversation and laughter, Nikolai found that he would trust you with his heart sooner than he would dare trust anyone else. 

It helped that you were good to him, if he were honest. It felt nothing like flings of past, nothing like all of the heartbreak he’d endured. The line between time spent with you and time spent without you had begun to blur to the point where Nikolai was entirely unsure as to whether or not he’d still be able to spot it, but he didn’t mind that at all. 

And as for you, you didn’t mind it either. Nikolai was the most understanding person you had ever met, the kindest, most compassionate and definitely the most charming by a mile and a half. The time you spent with him was time you always enjoyed, without fail. 

You’d experienced your fair share of heartbreak, just as Nikolai had, and somehow you knew without a doubt that he would not break your heart. He seemed like he was in it for the long game and you were perfectly fine with that--you’d fallen in love with him, and though marriage was not something you had discussed, if he ever proposed, you knew that you would say yes because saying yes would mean marrying the man you loved like you’d never loved anybody else. 

You were content with everything as it happened, as was Nikolai. At the end of the day, such a truth was the only one either of you cared about. 

with the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet - like the ashes of ash, I saw rise in the heat - settled soft and as pure as snow - I fell in love with the fire long ago - with each love I cut loose, I was never the same - watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame - I was fixed on your hand of gold - layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

“I don’t know how to explain it, really,” Nikolai said to Tolya as the two of them moved through the palace grounds. “I look at them, and well--it’s like--my heart sets itself on fire, really. I look at them and I feel like I’m standing in the middle of an open flame or like I’m in a heatwave.” 

“That’s love for you,” Tolya said with a grin. “Yeah, it does that. Makes you giddy, appreciative of everything, makes you feel like every bone in your body has been set alight. You’ve been in love before. I thought you knew this stuff.”

“Not as intensely,” Nikolai responded. “I’ve experienced love in it’s most mild of forms and thought it was the most intense emotion I had ever felt. I, very clearly, was wrong.” 

“I don’t know,” Tolya said with a shrug. “Maybe you’re experiencing it so intensely because of the fact that you refused to let them in for months and then just kind of decided to let them steal your heart on a random Tuesday, and here we are. Maybe you’re experiencing it so intensely because love and true love are two different things, or maybe it’s just because the universe has taken pity and decided that, after the war, you deserve something of a happy ending. I might love a good sonnet, but we have an objective here rather than to just aimlessly wander.” 

Nikolai grinned. “I do love it when you remind me of the task at hand, Tolya,” he said wistfully. Tolya only shook his head at Nikolais antics. “Thank you for reminding me, seriously. Had you not, I would’ve gotten lost in thinking about them and I think it might’ve driven me mad.” 

Tolya grinned. “Only the best loves drive one mad, Nikolai. Cherish it.” 

“Oh, I intend to,” Nikolai said, and the two of them kept moving, the conversation coming and going, Nikolais heart setting a racing pace whenever you dared cross his mind. 

So in awe, there I stood as you licked off the grain - though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame - as long as amber of ember glows - all the "would" that I'd loved is long ago

“Might I interest you in a dance, my love?” You asked with a grin as you and Nikolai stood, surveying an empty ballroom that you’d booked to use in an event with dancing, drinking, and donations that would go into the paying off of Ravkas debts. 

There was not a sound to be heard, not a soul in the room aside from Nikolai and yourself, and yet, somehow, it was perfect. 

“Always,” Nikolai said, offering you his hand. 

The dance was like one of the ones you’d do while a country song played on the violin, full of spinning and laughter and a general sense of joy that would not leave you, one that you never quite wanted to go.

“I love you,” you said to him, breathless, as you found yourself in the middle of the ballroom, Nikolais arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. “I love you so much.” 

“Ditto,” Nikolai hummed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You scoffed as Nikolai laughed, your hearts setting together in a beautiful ember of fire as you stood in the ballroom empty for all but yourselves.

Loving Nikolai was akin to loving a flame, one that burned relentless and bright and warm, and you wouldn’t’ve traded it for anything in the world. 

Loving you, Nikolai found, was like sitting in the middle of a flame and basking in the heat. He loved the feeling of loving you like he’d never loved anyone else. It was a gift to him, a blessing, though he’d never thought himself worthy of such a blessing from the saints or any blessing from them at all. 

[fabbyf1]

I woke up to your post about the stolen story and I’ve been trying to find the right words. I write too (privately) and my stories are very close to my heart and I’m very defensive about them. So I can only imagine that’s even worse when you actually publish your work and make yourself vulnerable. Still not sure I’ve managed to put my thoughts, but here we go:

First of all I want to tell you how sorry I feel for what a night/evening you must have had. I cannot imagine how much it must hurt to realise that people try to profit from and steal something that you have put and keep putting so much work, love, passion and dedication into. (English is not my first language so I hope I’m making sense here) I can only imagine that it feels like someone is using you and taking something away from you that is close to your heart and I‘m so sorry someone made you feel this way.

I also went through all my bookmarked stories on AO3 from the past two years to check if there might be some of the „similar“ stories you mentioned. Obviously I don’t know what stories you’re talking about. There were a few stories with a similar character dynamic, but nothing as blatantly copied as the one from your post. But (and I don’t know if that’ll make it less painful and disappointing for you): there are very very VERY few stories that I go back semi-regularly to re-read. There are even fewer stories that I go back to when I have a bad day. That are even less stories that made me tear up and keep making me tear up when I go back to them. And there are even fewer stories that are just open as a tab, just in case I want to read them again. But most of these very few stories are your stories.

If I want to cry and be sad and happy at the same time, I go back to the amnesia fic.

If I want to deep dive into Lestappen feelings and laugh and cry at the same time, I go back to Long Live.

If I’m in the need of some laughter and banter with great smut on top, I go back to like a Vapor

If I feel angsty and want to feel comfortable and distract myself with some good smut with feelings, I go back to the Warming Verse

If I want to read great character dynamics and studies, banter and unhinged smut, I go back to lestappen + guest (although I sometimes skip Carlos, depending on how annoying he is in real life…)

And the list goes on!

They can try to copy your character interpretation, steal your dialogue and write stories that are similar to yours, but they will never get this. They‘ll never be able to get these feelings out of people, because it will never feel as real, BECAUSE A COPY CAN NEVER BE AS GOOD AS THE OG!

Sorry for spamming your inbox, I hope you have a great day and I cannot wait to read lestappen + Oscar: the feelings edition (personally hoping for an actual conversation about what they are, but I promise I’ll get equally excited about 10k of feelings and a great blowjob)

bestie 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 this is so?

wow.

thank you so so so so much for spending the time to write this to me. i can't even tell you what it means to me. it definitely made me cry a little bit lmfaoooooo. i'm so glad that you enjoy my work. i really am. it's why i do it.

writing is a selfish hobby in a lot of ways because i'm clearly writing what i want to read, and i'm doing it for me, but i'm also very much doing it for you guys. i like writing things that you all enjoy and that can mean something to you, and i'm SO glad you get it. and that my fics stick with you so much.

seeing that somebody had stolen my work was... an interesting wave of emotions for me. i was clearly angry, i think everyone can see that in my response to them because i'm not one to anger-respond to things on this platform or on AO3. i'm pretty good at holding my tongue and bitching about it offline to my gf or my friends. i don't like to engage in anon hate (which is why i never publish them. i think every creator who has a following similar to mine receives anon hate and i'm not immune from it, i just refuse to publish it.) and i don't like to engage with anybody who's intentions are not good.

i want my little corner of the internet to always be a safe space for everyone. i want everyone to have a good time. to be happy, to love each other, to feel like they can come to me with things they might not be able to say out loud. i never want that to change, which is why i try really hard NOT to respond to haters or other bad things that happen around my fics.

but this time, i couldn't be silent. and i won't apologize for it.

before i posted my repsonse, i thought about going back and making it more... professional. taking out the "fucks" or whatever. i can write a corporate email like you wouldn't believe. i have "fuck around and find out" tattooed on me, sure, but ya girl is 33 years old. i'm a writer. i can destroy you with my words in a way that is so dignified and HR-approved, you won't even realize i've ruined your life until the end of it lmfaooooo.

but i think at the end of the day, in this case, i was just pushed too far lmfao. i can only stay silent for so long. and it felt good to let my raw emotions out without censoring how angry i was. because fuck yeah my feelings were hurt. they're still a bit hurt. i'm confused why somebody who claims to be a fan of mine, who follows my work here and on ao3, who has supported me and read my fics, would do something like this to me.

but i don't want my blog to become a negative space. i don't want this to be the only thing we ever talk about again on here. but i think it is important that we talk about it right now because it's a real thing that's happening outside of my works. lots of creators are getting their art, gifs, fics, manips, etc stolen and not getting credit for their work.

and that's just... not okay.

as a fandom, and as a society, we need to be better. tumblr and ao3 are an escape from the real world. it's a place you can go and be free, and happy, and goofy, and silly, and--frankly--embarrassing about the things you like. there is no reason any of us should be stealing someone else's art in any capacity. because if we do? if we let this continue? it's not fun anymore. and what the FUCK is the point if it's not fun?

this is not our real life. this fandom does not define who i am as a person, and it doesn't define who you are either. we all have real lives outside of this space. if we keep plagiarizing each other's art and sending anon hate and being cunts about everything, we will ruin all the good things we have here.

we need to recognize other creator's hard work and thank them for it.

appreciate their work and get inspired by it, without stealing it. make it your own. make it DIFFERENT. don't put the same quotes, don't put the same characters, don't put them in the exact same scenario as your inspiration. don't have them sitting the exact same way as the characters in your inspo were!!! BE BETTER.

anyway, happy saturday. my coffee tastes great. i hope you all have a wonderful day, wherever you are in the world. don't let this ruin your day.

[blindmagdalena]

hii, not extremely well versed in all your writing (yet), but so far w what ive seen w the cannibalism fic & how u write homer (lol), i must say i love how beautifully u intertwine his violence w romance, w how u write him, it's like his egotistical macabre nature & need for love r making out lmao! feel free to ignore this part bc praise shouldn't feel like you owe the praiser anything, but id love to see something from you, anything of any length, w homelander x a y/n who loves how creepy & macabre & scary he can be! like, they're gothic romantic sorta? like "oh, you can hear my heartbeat? tell me if the gushing in my arteries differs when i am around you! go into grave detail please! i want to peel the skin off your body and claw around inside of you too to see what makes you tick!" lol, maybe he sees them in black & is all "wowie, finally decided to kill me and you're getting prematurely ready for my funeral? well, nobody can say you're not a multitasker! how very feminine of you!" "no because if you died id want to be buried next to you!" "oh, i see!" "even if i was still alive! :D" "wow! well, morticia/gomez, you're... intense! i like your... prep! your... uncolourful enthusiasm!" lmfao. he tries to return it by trying to give them weird compliments in turn that fit w them; "don't you look like the most dolled up, prettiest corpse in the mausoleum in all that black make-up!", he sees them blushing or something & he's like "look atcha, blooming up likeeee... a bloodied bouquet of rose!trying to make my heart stop or something? least you'll be sittin real pretty on my grave huh?" he's like that meme that's like "my hot witch girlfriend" & him in a summoning circle like "me doing whatever tf she wants" but he's also a freak just a blonde one. dude is the star-spangled superman & a celeb who should be dating models and yet he's like hiding a heart shaped necklace under his suit that's like a preserved vial of their blood lol. i feel it'd stroke his ego in a different way where they also love how weird & freaky he is, yet in contrast they're not violent or harmful w their love for gore or whatever themselves, for them it just bubbles up into a deeper way to express love & their own self expression. i also wanna recommend "the horror of our love" by ludo if u dunno it, feels sort of fitting for how you write him! "i want you stuffed into my mouth, hold you down & tear you open, live inside you, love id never hurt you. but ill grind against your bones until our marrows mix, i will eat you slowly"/"the awful edges where you end & i begin, inside your mouth i cannot see, there's catastrophe in everything i am touching as i sweat & crush you. & i hold your beating chambers until they beat no more, you die like angels sing" :p 🖤

first of all. calling him homer made me scream. 😂 second, thank you! this is so many words and they are all very kind and fun. I think currently the fic I've written that's closest to this premise is Don't Fret, Precious (I'm Here) which features a reader that's ultimately pretty into his whole deal, and fairly deranged herself.

I definitely want to write more macabre readers though, and I love this gomez/morticia angle you're talking about. I've had a WIP in the wings for ages where the reader herself is a serial killer that Homelander catches, but ultimately decides to cover for because he's intrigued by her bloodlust. it's very much a yandere x yandere. it doesn't fit into the idea that the reader is harmless, but... fiction is fiction, right? no one's really hurt! lmao

also, Ludo is one of my favorite bands!!! I actually almost named this fic "The Horror Of Our Love" but ultimately decided "The Horror Was For Love" suited it a little bit better.

as you've accurately deduced I definitely love mixing elements of romance and horror. you have very much inspired me to step up my game and return to that serial killer fic, and maybe something new featuring more of an oddball reader that really throws Homelander off his game.

thanks again for the lovely message. 🖤

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hey hi hello!!! How are you today?

I was wondering if I could get a match up?

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

I can't stop listening to Brand New City by Mitski since last week. I just really like the emotion in her voice. I also really associate myself with the line "if I gave on being pretty I wouldn't know how to be alive". So that's that.

What is your Enneagram type?

7w8, used to be a 9w1.

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why?

I dooo! I really like enjoy video essays about linguistics and mental illnesses as well

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

I never really had an imaginary friend. I mean, I remember being annoyed at my shadow for copying everything I do, but I don't think that counts.

I actually didn't have any friend untill I went to school. I was always okay playing by my self.

Though I do remember making little scenarios in my head while playing on the playground; one of them being me as Harley Quinn trapped in jail while Joker saves me (I was obsessed with Harley Quinn as a kid, okay..)

What is your go-to way to fall asleep?

Rambling asmr.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

I'd like to pick a name that sounds nice in most languages, since mine doesn't.

Maybe something like Eleanora with Nora as a nickname.

What is your favorite of Redacted’s audios, and why?

I can't pick one so I'll say "holiday decorating with your boyfriend but he's a chaotic mess" and "listening in on your crush's thoughts". These are the audios that really made me smile like an idiot. They don't really have anything to do with the plot yet they're still my favourite.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

Hot take but...David. It's just...idk man, I usually like the tsundere type put sometimes I feel like David is too rude. I enjoyed his first audio but the rest...idk man. I like angel a lot tho. I myself a lot in them, but David is definitely not the type I'd go for. I'd probably feel really annoying and unloved with a guy like him 🤷‍♀️

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

"The spy next door". I watched it waaaaaay too many times as a kid and I sometimes still do.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

Asher!!! He seems like so much fun dude. He also reminds me a lot of my friend.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

I start rambling about 'what if' scenarios. Like what if I was born a year later? What if brother hadn't been born? What if that one time at the cafe I didn't order my usual drink?

Stuff like that.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Idk I can't drive...😔

Chocolate and banana milkshake is my go to drink tho.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. 

All my saved songs mashed up...

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why?

Harry Potter fanfiction.... hear me out okay... I know it sounds...bad.. But damnit some of the fics are just too good.

Other info:

Idk if this is important or not but my mbti is ENTP-T and I'm also very short (5'1). Do what you must with that information...

Thank you!!

The combination of your personality traits gives me the impression of an extroverted, strong-willed person; they’re giving Smartass, you know? This combined with your preference towards tsunderes makes me think you’d be a good match with Aaron.

I can get what you mean about David being “too rude”; in contrast, Aaron’s certain brand of tsundere reads more playful? Like, he grasped early on when the attitude isn’t serving him or when to tone it down which is why I like him better for you. Also, the fact that your chosen name would be Eleanora and his brother’s name is Elliott, the fact that both his most loved people in the world could be called “El” is just really cute. That’s kismet a little bit.

Your life with Aaron would be such a dream (though that’s any life with Aaron, I will admit.) I can clearly imagine him making you your favorite milkshake every Saturday morning to start your weekend right (even though I can see him personally hating it /lh something about his vibe tells me he hates chocolate and banana together but not as much as he loves you). I can see him asking you about the fanfic you’re reading- not because he cares about Harry Potter (he doesn’t particularly) but because he likes to hear you talk about it. Also, your not being able to drive is fun because he’s an excellent driver, and don’t we all dream just a little bit of having to be a passenger prince(ss)? /lh

Song:

I just don't wanna miss you tonight/ And I don't want the world to see me/ 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand/ When everything's made to be broken/ I just want you to know who I am

One, that last line is very tsundere-core, that sentiment of “I don’t need the world to know or see me as long as I have you”. Two, this song is such a classic, and it matches the alt, rock, grunge vibe that Aaron gives me. I think he likes this song and genre a lot.

Runner-ups:

In addition to giving me Smartass vibes, your personality types also remind me of a more extroverted Damien; because of this, Huxley would be a cute runner-up for you. To do a total one-eighty, your mention of considering What If’s means I just have to give you Echo as a runner-up okay heaR ME OUT-

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[theghostofashton]

1, 8, 11, 18, and 24 :)

thank you :)

the last sentence you wrote

from the olympics au:

Carlos Reyes, son of Andrea and Gabriel, and arguably, the Reyes he’s spent the most time looking at.

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

for the longest time it was the you saw the truth in me verse and i did write that, but i've also toyed around with writing a sequel to made up of a thousand scars, something that checks in with them a few years later to see where they are in their lives, how tk's navigated his recovery, etc. this feels a little more like an au to me with very loose ties to canon so i'd love to explore things like what tk ends up doing for work and what his life looks like, years out of rehab

11. a WIP you’d like to finish someday

this feels a little like cheating because it isn't posted but i think my exes to lovers fic. it's basically shelved at this point until i can kind of figure out where i want to go with it but it's such a special fic and i really want to eventually finish it and post it

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

i have an entire document of deleted scenes from you saw the truth in me, i'll post one at the end!

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

answered here!

deleted scene under the cut - one of the things i worried about with this fic was it sounding too soapbox-y. that was always going to happen, but i felt like this scene was too on the nose and i couldn't figure out how to fix it, so it got cut

“It makes sense,” Carlos says. “I can’t even imagine what that must be like. To have people talking about you all the time and not being able to control what they’re saying or defend yourself. It sounds exhausting.”  

“You know,” TK says faintly. “You’re the first person to tell me that.”  

“What, that it’s exhausting?”  

“Yeah.” TK shrugs again, chuckling humorlessly. “Most people just think it’s part of the job, something I have to just deal with, and they’re right, but…” He shakes his head. “Everything gets loud sometimes, you know? And I couldn’t say anything because I’d get called ungrateful. I was so lucky to be where I was that I wasn’t allowed to be anything but happy about it.”  

Carlos thinks back to all of the headlines he’s read, all the anonymous sources about how insufferable and spoiled TK is, how far up his own ass he lives, how he’s so out of touch with reality he doesn’t even care what people say about him anymore. This doesn’t sound like someone who is any of those things. This doesn’t sound like someone who has completely checked out.  

“And I get it,” TK is saying. “Probably sounds fucked up to hear me complain about my tiring filming schedule when a single mom is working two jobs to feed her kids. I get why people didn’t want to hear it. My life is so hard, I have to wear nice clothes and walk red carpets and spend my time filming movies that are guaranteed to rake in millions. But it’s like- it got to be too much. I didn’t know what to do. I tried so hard.”  

“I don’t think it’s a contest,” Carlos says carefully. “Everyone has their hard days, right? When the world’s too much and you don’t know where to turn. Everyone has them. You’re not a bad person for it. The single mom who works two jobs is in a situation she shouldn’t have to be in, but that wouldn’t change for her if you just didn’t talk about what you were dealing with. That wouldn’t help her.”  

When TK looks back at him, his eyes are a little glassy. “Yeah. Just wish the rest of the world thought that.”

[unvolver]

Last message from me and then I'll leave you alone (unless you want me to keep chatting haha) but when it comes to omegaverse my big problem with it is how it's totally flattened the creative arena. and not just for mpreg (which I've been a dutiful reader of for 20 years) but for other genres too. Like if you've ever read the word "slick" being used as a noun in a regular porn story, that's an omegaverse trope that's completely invaded other genres. It's like kudzu, omegaverse is an invasive species of a genre that is slowly choking and killing fanfiction and helping to flatten it so that everything reads the same way. A lot of creativity and subtlety in smut and character tropes (not just the Beatles though its shudder-inducingly present) has been razed to the ground thanks to omegaverse and how it absolutely insists on a strict hierarchy that absolutely must be adhered to at all times and how it forces 3d characters into idiotic 2d depictions.

And yes that has always been an issue with bad writing but I've seen the transformation take place in real time where omegaverse has actively made everything worse by killing nuance. John Lennon is absolutely NOT a psychologically troubled individual with a history of retreating emotionally and manipulating his loved ones so he feels more secure; now he's an insecure whiny baby who can't do anything without his Scary Daddy fisting 20 times a day while he screams and thrashes. Also this is considered romantic and it's based in werewolf porn, it's the most majestic love story of our times. (please note that the "scary daddy" role is interchangeable with any literally any male character.)

This is present in other fandoms too and it's a real shame. Reading fanfiction set before the omegaverse apocalypse levelled fandom (for the worse) is a night and day comparison, so much even in subtle details that simply doesn't exist anymore due to this pervasive and weird porn trope.

general psa for all my followers and frequenters of my ask box: do not worry about annoying me with asks because i love talking and rambling for hours. please talk to me about anything.

but anyways i completely agree with you, my skin shudders when i walk into barnes and nobles and am hit with such titles like this

omegaverse hitting the mainstream kills me. a part of me dies when i hear about all these manga then anime adaptions and live action bl shows that all take place in omegaverse. for the love of god keep this in fanfiction

again, agree omegaverse is the worst offender of stripping away characters and making them into hollow caricatures.

i haven’t been a fanfic reader for very long, only ~6 years and i’ve disliked the trope since i first got into fics and writing some myself. but i feel like the explosion of omegaverse into actual published media didn’t happen until after 2020 unless i’m missing something. because i didn’t remember published bl and tv dramas that included omegaverse. at least it didn’t become so popular that i see people on tiktok making jokes about living in the verse or actual explanations on what it is there. i literally saw videos of random highly edited twinky guys tagged with #omega today on that app.

[liquorisce]

What are some of your favorite fics? It doesn't have to be aot or something you've written

omg tysm for this question I love talking about my fav fics ESP BC SO MANY OF THEM ARE NON AOT 🙈🙈 I had to go to my ffn favs for this hihi

so this is list is home to the fics that I have truly idolised, read repeatedly and tried to emulate in some way or another in my own writing journey:

1. Heartbeat by letmeannoyyoutoday. U must have heard me screaming about this fic before. It is god tier, the angstiest, the most painful Sasusaku you can imagine. There isn’t even smut in it but still I’m rendered a sobbing mess everytime I read this story. And I read it every fortnight or so, I swear. canonverse. sasusaku get married.

2. The most dangerous things by Childoftheashes. Man this fic is the tastiest thing in the ichihime fandom istg. Ichigo is unapologetically horny and bossy and slutty and I love everything about it. Orihime is absolutely clueless and drives him up a wall and it’s literally completely smut! This author is one of my smut senseis. I also really love "chasing paper tigers like dreams" by her.

3. Sometimes I think the stupidest things by starsinew. Ok I’m sorry for putting this here bc this user doesn’t have this fic up anymore (I managed to find the epub and thank fuck for that) but I had to talk about it bc this fic changed me on a fundamental level. I fell in love with it so much, even to this day I look back at it with an education lens as to how to write smut. God tier. I hope this author is well and living their best life.

4. Friends with Benefits by confused panda bear. Syaosaku, card captor Sakura. Again a story that doesn’t exist anymore online but I still remember some of the dialogues bc they were so iconic. Definitely a primer on smut writing for me. I invite you to check out their other stories tho they’re literally the harugou mother, birthing the most insane crackship in the free! fandom and getting everyone else drunk on it thanks to their god tier writing.

5. Clarity by randomteenager — angsty but silly gruvia. i love it so much.

6. Seeking Ginny by Casca. Harry/Ginny fic with heavy emphasis on Ginny's personal growth.

7. How to Coexist by Spoilerarlert and also washed up and rundown, I haven't finished it yet but fuck its amazing so far. Both are modern AU stories, one in NYC and the other in Chicago. I can't recommend this author enough, they have a very original and compelling style of writing.

8. Little Beast by herblacktights. This is my fav modern au, high school eremika. If you haven't heard me raving me about this fic already then ur obviously new here. ITS AWESOME! go read it now

9. Dog by Ackermom. floch x eren at it's unhealthiest best. canonverse. This author is one my favs actually, I devour ALL of her work, no exception. I also really enjoyed her reibert fics.

10. Icarus & I by bluinary. Armin-centric. Modern AU. I read this many years ago but I think of it often. I loved Armin's journey in this fic.

11. Three Days by Lotos-Eater. Canonverse. An angsty smutty Shikatema fic where Shikamaru thinks he's lost her.

12. For everything there is a season by SouthSideStory. If y'all are sasusaku stans then you know SouthSideStory already. She's phenomenal. This one is angsty sequel which delves into Sakura's feelings post miscarriage. I highly recommend the prequel as well.

13. Fool for you by Hand of Destiny. Syaosaku. Card Captor Sakura. Syaoran is a business mogul from a very traditional Chinese family. Sakura is an innocent girl who decides to try giving the escort profession a go. God tier, I swear. It also has a sequel!

14. lost girl & found boy. eremika. lost girls-verse. mikasa wants to know how babies are made, etc. cw: teen pregnancy.

15. all you want by senlinyu. i just binged this yesterday. holy shit. it's the big daddy of m/f omegaverse fics, I swear. dramione. canonverse + omegaverse. really really good!!!

ty for the question <3

[limetameta]

The worst thing to come from rewatching hellsing ultimate is that now YET AGAIN I am thinking of my cringe Canon divergence fic I made up as a wee child where Quincey Harker's grandson and Integra Hellsing are matched by the Queen of England (no Alucard, much to your detriment your 1940s sweetheart won't let you change her mind - no changing your form into girlycard won't help)

But you see he's American^TM. Because Mina and Johnathan took one look at Abraham biding Alucard to the Hellsing family AND keeping him in England and said: We will run! We are leaving, good sirs!

Abraham: But you have nothing to worry about! He is bound! A servant! He is nothing!

Mina and Johnathan, absolutely traumatized, holding their baby boy Quincey: WE ARE LEAVING!

So they move to America. And stay there. But something is a little up with Quincey, though. He's just a tad stronger than you'd expect. A really killer athlete that can outrun most folks in his school.

Because the whole thing with Mina not turning into a vampire is that Dracula got killed. By not killing Dracula let's still say: OK Mina is in the clear! She didn't turn into a vampire. She was cured! (I feel like my man Johnathan would never let Abraham experiment on Mina to see HOW she did not turn, because Johnathan is a good man and Van Helsing is a wacky old mad scientist)

So let's assume for the sake of this au that Mina is human enough to pass, but that progressively it gets... harder to hide the vampirism. Not in its most natural state. But the Harker family is a bit odd.

Cut to Quinceys grandson - I don't know called Jeffrey or something. And he is a professional American hunter on all things occult. Looks human. Can go in the sunlight. Blunt teeth. Eats food. Except he doesn't necessarily hunt like a human.

But that's not important yet. Alucard will sniff that out and come to Integra to debrief.

The entire premise of this would be that it follows the hellsing ultimate beat. So it'd have 10 chapters. The biggest divergence would be that McAmerican Man over there is at the right place at the right time and stops the Cat Boi from doing the thing, and so Alucard doesn't disappear for 30 years.

I remember reading fics where Integra is told she must marry and in those fics she always takes it in stride. She is always like yes of course I will do my Hellsing duty. I am an old woman of 22 and so of course I must make haste and pop out at least 5 children. All male.

So my big idea was that in this fic both Alucard and Integra would be SO in on it and they would collaborate and work together to drive this McAmerican Man away - without of course him knowing they are doing this on purpose.

But the bit continues- McAmerican Man succeeds in surviving all of their trials and tribulations - PLUS he is endearing. There is something about that Johnathan Harker rizz that gets passed down. Integra is actually beginning to respect this man. Fuck. In Integra speak this is as close to her finding him adequate as you will get.

But their ticket out of this conundrum is Alucards revelation that McAmerican Man is a vampire or something alike.

But then you get eugenics from the round table that's like: combining the blood of a Hellsing, the family that Alucard is bound to serve - with the Harker blood that is giving its family abilities to withstand grievous harm and has them endure many hardships to be found in the vampire hunting business seems like a brilliant mix. Think of what your children will be?

Alucard: Doesn't this sound like eugenics? I thought Britain was above such things? *grinning like a lunatic. Having caught the round table red handed*

Integra: *can't see her glare from the cigar smoke* yes... it does...

But anyway. Pretending anyone from the Hellsing verse is not mad is like pretending the sky is green. I wanted to say red, but with the London siege it very well might be red.

I cannot stress enough how MUCH Alucard is trying to get rid of the McAmerican Man. But as he is ordered not to KILL or MAIM him or HARM him he needs to get creative.

But is he pissed off? Yes he is. Especially because dearest American boi looks the spitting image of his good friend Johnathan. The Dracula in Alucard is VERY MUCH rearing his head. He feels like this is his do over to kill him and drain him. Integra will allow it, he just needs to find A WAY to get her to mistrust him. You must have secrets McAmerican Man.

Seras and the dude are good buddies. The wild geese take him out drinking one night.

Only Integra and Integra's pet vampire SEETHE at this man.

Alucard: Master...

Integra: It will be obvious

Alucard: Not if you lock me up as punishment afterwards

Integra: *puff* *puff* *side eyes him* *is considering it ACTIVELY* *sighs* No...

Both of them are disappointed 😞

Anyway Integra gets wun over by McAmerican Man but she refuses to take his name.

[ladykf-writes]

The Soulmate, Soulmarks Verse

(as requested, and as will be seen in the upcoming fic, Waltzing Through Time, primarily featuring ReGen pairing - Reeve Tuesti / Genesis Rhapsodos.) Yes I WILL make that a thing.

So, how does this world work? For right now, we'll mostly talk about the soulmarks.

There are two kinds of soulmarks -- primary, and secondary. We'll talk about the secondaries in a bit.

Primaries

There are at least two primaries as you need two marks to make a bond - yours, and a partner's. However, polycules may find themselves with three or more marks. (Usually three, and very, very rarely more than five as it's only counting the core matches and not any wider web of not-mutual lovers. It's possible! But unlikely.)

Before going forward I would like to add: soulmates are not inherently sexual or romantic. By the world's definition, your soulmate is the other half of your soul, someone that fundamentally completes you in some way.

Notably: Drew Morrison - one you've met if you've read Dog Whistle - is aroace, in every verse including this one. Full on aromantic, and on the gray asexual spectrum though he doesn't usually realize that. And he is paired with Benji Richards, who is gleefully bi and still hooks up with other people to fill those needs, much to Drew's relief. But they fit in a way no one else can complete them as soulmates.

So, regardless of how many are involved... now that we know what the primaries are (you plus mutual partner(s) regardless of orientation) when do they show up and how do they function?

The following applies no matter how many marks you may have:

When you hit puberty, a soulmark appears somewhere on your body, and simultaneously appears in the same place on your soulmate's body. Since I've already disclosed Drew&Benji we'll use them as an example.

Drew's mark is a thick rope of ivy with leaves that forms a bracelet around his right wrist. It appeared when he was thirteen, in full vibrant jungle green colors. There's jokes when he's older that it's because he ties people together. (Not wrong, as you'll see.)

When he's sixteen, three years later, a the black outline of a lightning bolt appears on his upper right arm (Benji's mark, because he's fast, thinks quickly, and is very intelligent) It doesn't have color however, because they haven't "bonded" - the colloquial term for this is "triggered" as in haven't triggered their bond so it's active, as you would other sorts of mechanisms, like opening an automatic door, and not in the medical sense of something that triggers a traumatic reaction.

In order to activate or trigger your bond, you must make skin-to-skin contact. This has affected everything about clothing and what is and is not considered reasonable to wear. Most people seek out their bonds, and leave points of their body bare to touch. Hands are a big deal, and shaking bare hands goes from a mere pleasantry to a spectrum between 'I would love to bond with you' and 'we're clearly so incompatible I'm not worried about it' - and you get to guess which is which.

Then there are people who don't want to bond, who wear long sleeves and pants all year, constantly wear gloves and try not to let any but a scarce few touch them skin to skin. You get a lot of that with the Turks and also with SOLDIER, who likely screen a partner first for what their mark is before having a hookup. Not, necessarily, because they don't want a bond. Most people want a bond, to know what it's like to meet the missing half of your soul - to even know what that means. But their jobs are dangerous. Is it fair to bond with someone with a life that is likely going to come to an unnaturally short, and likely violent, end? There's different schools of thought, including 'is it fair to make that choice for them?' as well.

Backing up from the questions of ethics of bonds... what happens if you do?

When you bond

Once you've made skin to skin contact, what was essentially line art fills in with the same colors your soulmate wears. Benji and Drew highfived after training, caught skin on their arms, and were immediately fixated. I choose to use them as an example because of the next topic.

Skin hunger. It affects everyone, be they a minor that has no business getting ah, involved with their mate yet - because of course, you can get large age gaps between soulmates, some people get a marker say, five years before they get their own, and know that their partner is at least five years older. Or, in Drew's case, someone who... while not repulsed by sex was honestly really uninterested.

But the thing with skin hunger is it's just a call for skin-on-skin. It has nothing to do specifically with sex. In Waltzing With Time, you'll see Genesis just laying on Reeve, shirtless, while Reeve pets his hair and occasionally brushes his shoulders or lays a hand over his heart. (And, of course, there is a lot of coincidental, mundane contact. Even holding hands helps soothe the urge down to manageable levels.)

It doesn't matter your job; you are required, by medical and insurance purposes (union as well, but we're mostly talking about ShinRa), to take a week off. And you are not allowed to work remotely until the fifth day. This is because you're commonly believed to be a bit... out of your mind from the new bond. Not just the skin hunger; the vast majority of bonds cause an immediate, often irrational, anything for you mentality. To the point of endangering funds, other relationships, their body, and their dignity. (And probably more, but that's worth note.) With this in mind, again - a week off, to "settle into the bond" and begin to get back to where you can function as independent people.

In ShinRa it's often called a 'quarantine' period, though there are gentler and warmer phrases like "soul reunion" and "bond week" as well as simply settling. The most common phrase in the eastern ShinRa lands is "taking a week" and is universally understood that unless you specify it's just a vacation, it is bond related.

There is also a note on senses that is not just connected to the enhanced: sometimes, when soulmates are apart, they can share sensory information. However, it's not so easy as just sending it.

Sight is the most desirable and in theory also the easiest (it's not a high bar). You see what your soulmate sees if they're fixating on something for long enough - assuming, of course, that the receiving soulmate has their eyes closed at the right time.

Technically, with enough emotion behind it and a strong enough bond, you might be able to override a second or two of the receiving partner's sight with their eyes open but by far if it's ever done it is deliberate on both ends

Sound only transfers when it has made an impression, and it is almost entirely random unless you can fixate on it. (Shared stuck songs, anyone?)

Touch is spotty. It's almost never sent deliberately, and if it is then the partners have been deliberately practicing or there's some wild adrenaline and hyper focusing going on.

Smell + Taste seem to be completely at whim. There's talk of people sending it on purpose, but not much proof beyond say-so.

There is anecdotal evidence that the closer the soulmates are, the easier it is to share sensory information.

Worth noting as well: the shared senses does not include true telepathy.

Additional Primary details

Some other notes:

You have to go through the week for every set that bonds at the time. As in: if Partner 1/3 bonds with Partner 2/3 that's one week, but they have to take another week when they find Partner 3/3 and all three bond.

While the skin hunger and unreasoning levels of attachment fade by about the fifth day, and while partner(s) are literally able to separate by the end of the week, it has been proven that bonded mates can NOT be separated for more than five and a half weeks without beginning to have a reaction - by six weeks, skin hunger begins to return, as well as an increasingly over the top, dramatic and unreasonable thought process. It will take at least two weeks for the bonded to calm down and get back to being separately functional.

Many, many groups are advocating for a healthier two week period instead of the bare minimum single week. However, due to behind-the-scenes "government" ShinRa intervention, this motion hasn't passed.

With the nature of having to have skin contact for a bond to activate, you can have walked by your soulmate for years completely unknowing. However, there are some anecdotal "signs" that your soulmate is near. Including two that are true: their or your mark itching when you're close by (hard to prove), and getting pins and needles if you touch your mark through your soulmate's shirt or pants (you have to pay close attention to notice)

if your soulmate is dying, their mark begins to scar up around the edges; if they die, it will be raised up and rough to the touch, the colors faded and muddy. The living mate has to be watched carefully; they rarely outlive their mate by more than a few months unless they've been conditioning and are likely heavily drugged.

Secondaries

Secondary bonds, simply put, are found family. Someone has become so important to you that their mark appears somewhere on your body the moment you've started to feel that close and have touched each other. Now note:

This mark does not necessarily appear on you where it does on them, and it will be in miniature. This is helpful for people like Drew who have a dozen + marks.

These are not necessarily mutual, though by vast majority they are. Friendships, for example, being reliably close, but "work friends" are not necessarily mutually close.

Some people are far more prone than others to accumulating marks, and some are more inclined to gain them all over their body in comparison to one place.

Secondaries can be romantic or platonic; there is no way to know which is which - soulmarks are not defined by anything but love.

Secondaries don't require any taking a week, and don't offer the perks of Primaries, they're just there as proof of the people you feel closest to.

Secondaries, unlike primaries, can fade, vanish, or be replaced as your feelings change over time. This is therefore considered natural and normalizes the value of relationships in the moment over the course of a lifetime.

In Conclusion

And that's a wrap on the 101 of the Soulmarks!Verse. Now of course, something that would become such a huge part of society, and it's not a stretch to say it would change the world of FF7 as we know it. Old, not-dead faces in the Science Department, new Reactor protocol, new alliances and family ties and boogeymen that have slipped off to Reactor 00 oh my.

This will, of course, be covered in a later post; I think this one's long enough lol. Feel free to borrow the verse or the soulmate rules for something else! Just let me know. I want to seeeee.