Unrelated but I wanted to share~

This is a database fore all the important info, factions, weapons, races, basally everything on my new Shy Fy fic (serie), it has no pamagat yet, but this database will be updated regularly as the fic takes shape, so please check in regularly, or if you prefer I could notify you sa pamamagitan ng posting on the club pader in case of an update, pleas let me know in the commends whit's one you prefer. ( madami races will be adet I got them worked out just not the names fore them when I got Thad I will post them.) Oke now her is the info:

Very short backstory: basikly the fic is about a coalition of races both human...

I've decided to do a sort of 30 araw Sherlock challenge with myself (only I probably won't upload every day) where I write 30 short one-shots about Sherlock. They'll probably mostly be angsty and sad because I like that, and some might be Johnlock. If you're wondering why this is part 2, it's 'cause I'm including link as part 1.
~~~~~~~
After Sherlock fell, everything went dark. John dimly remembers gloved hands, probably belonging to one of the paramedics, gripping him tightly as he sagged towards the ground, unable to tear his eyes away from the broken body. But his vision was going dark, his...

Sorry it took so long...I got really lazy and stuff but it’s finished now! Warning: cussing (that’s as far as it goes for mature content) and LOTS of feels. Part one is link.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vic's puso skips a beat. No. It can't-- but she's--
But the message is there, plain as day, as real as the sun in the sky and the hope in his heart. His first thought is that it's a fake, an imposter, trying to lure him into a trap. His head is telling him to stay in the safety of the flat, but his puso is screaming for him to go to the café. He decides to trust his heart, hoping with...

The problem with insomnia is you’re awake. Fully functional and aware to every beat, thump, pump, slick, lick, rick, prick, oh now you’re just getting wordy aren’t you? That’s the thing, you are as awake as you are asleep, you're neither. pagganap out on muscle memory as you slug through the day, never were you fully asleep or fully awake. You’re just there. Like an single slash mark in the world, adding yourself, thinking you belong when really, you’re just a number.

A number that no one will ever count on.

No one will rely on.

Lean on.

Carry on.

Just striding on your senseless body and...

Sunday night, 8 p.m. sharp you're there with your face pressed against Equius' sweaty asong babae tits as he holds you like the baby.

6 months back, Equius Nawawala both of his testicles and since then he Nawawala his wife, Aradia, and daughter, Nepeta. You only remebered their names because thats all he talks about. Well that and his glory days as a fucking juice head, you mean "competitive body builder." However, unlike other bodybuilders Equius' has tits. Hormone therapy came along with a side of high testosterone and because of that, his body had to kick up the estrogen to maintain balance.

Equius' big...

Just a one-shot I wrote today because I was bored. Fandom is Sherlock, and it's set during Reichenbach. Semi-AU. Warning: death. Oh and it's stream-of-consciousness, which is why it seems kind of jumbled and fragmented.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Agony. Burning. Heat of a million flames. Panic. Pain.
I'm here.
No--no--
Sherlock. I'm here.
Pain--
Sherlock!
Struggling to open my eyes, blinking out the blood seeping into my vision. Fiery pain, pain everywhere. Easier to keep them closed.
J-John--
I'm here, Sherlock. I'm here.
Sweat, blood, dirt, become one with the shrieking agony. I'm ready...

Kind of depressing two-shot with Vic and Marion (Sherlock OCs). Not really any warnings in this part, but there’s gonna be some cussing in the susunod one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How can I tell you how I feel, when I don’t even know myself?
How can I say I miss you, when every segundo you were there I only wanted you gone?
How can I say I’m close by, when really I couldn’t be madami far?
And how can I say that, say I’m telling the truth, when deep down I know it’s all a lie?
--VW

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He remembers what it was like before. He remembers...

A little one-shot fun times with Victor and Marion! Fandom is BBC Sherlock, and WARNING: CUSSING. LOTS. Yeah, that’s all as far as warnings go. Oh just some clarification: this is around 8 months post-Reichenbach (if you don't know what that means, look it up) and let's just say Marion didn't take the incident too well...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vic rolled his eyes, staring out of the foggy window of the cab as it careened through the sodden streets of London. He felt the gray eyes of his brother on him, but he purposely ignored John, pretending to have found something...

BBC Sherlock FanFic with OC, Marion Holmes. Post- Reichenbach. Read on.
If you hadn’t known her before, you’d have never noticed. How the once brilliant spark of energy turned to a shadow in her now dull grey eyes. Not many have the ability, nor the right to see the subtle change-- but even someone like Anderson could see what was drastically different.
Sherlock was gone, and Mary’s vision had decided to follow.
Everyone realized fairly quickly how it could be fixed. Therapy sessions, psychiatrists, anyone specializing in this. Mycroft and John started with the lesser known, the ones who...

Prologue link, part 1 link.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aisling looked up in shock, her turquoise eyes round with terror. A moment’s panic stirred in her when she saw Fin, but her friend seemed to be fine, was already pushing herself into a sitting position, rubbing her bruised side. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she turned to Fin, questioningly. There were no signs of a bullet or any other weapon, so what had knocked her down?
    Before she had time to say a word, another blast resounded through the destroyed training room. It was so strong that the...

Prologue is link.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks earlier.
A bow clattered to the hardwood floor, skidding to a stop in a patch of golden afternoon sunlight that reflected a blinding glare off of the metal. “No!” the dark-haired girl groaned, digging her fingers into her scalp in frustration. “How many times have I told you, that’s not how you hold it!”
Aisling didn’t respond, but shoved her hands in her pockets and crossed the training room to pick up her bow. Fin jogged over, wrenching the instrument out of her friend’s fingertips. “You’re going to snap it if you do that,”...