#<- vague nut just in case

[pinchan]

please please please mappa don't take the demon slayer route with the jjk anime PLEASE

[kickedin17]

People who can reread books back to back or multiple times in a year are so powerful to me. My reread strategy is to have a book hit me like a nuclear bomb upon the first read, and then slowly infect my every waking thought more and more for the next couple years until I feel paralyzed every time I think about it and see it in everything else and then one day finally I wake up in a cold sweat and say I need to eat that thing. And then I can reread it

[sals-soup]

"all of you are actually secretly one of us so you have to accept us, hehe" radqueers are literally insane. also, they used a map emoji and a paw emoji to convey "map zoo" so i think that's officially my second-least favourite censorship i've seen, next to antis referring to CSAM as "cheese pizza"

[ivymarquis]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

💕 twst 2024 valentine gifts! 🎁

***Please note:*** Sharing merch images + news is not intended to encourage and/or to pressure anyone into making purchases. It is up to the individual consumer to be informed and to choose how they spend their money.

For general information about how TWST Valentine Gifts work, check out this post.

For character signatures and the messages from previous years, check out this post.

The gifts for 2024 are 100 ml fragrance sprays. These are not perfumes, they are more like room sprays. According to Yana, they worked with professional perfumers and the fragrances were formulated with each character's "image" in mind! These each come with a unique bottle label, plus a ribbon and a little wooden charm with a matching character motif on it. You can soak the wooden charm with the fragrance and use it to diffuse the smell through a room.

Preorders are open until 10 March 2024.

(Warning: in the case that these contain alcohol, it will not be possible to send the fragrances overseas due to shipping regulations against flammable materials. The paper goods—the 2024 Valentine Gift messages—will still be able to be sent out.)

Each character has their own unique scent. The following are summaries of what each spray smells like overall (according to official posts), but each also has its own more detailed descriptions of the top, middle, and base notes on their individual website postings.

Heartslabyul

Riddle - refined rose (geranium, rose, honey)

Trey - powdery mint (spearmint of course the guy obsessed with dental hygiene smells like MINT, white flowers, powdery musk and balsam)

Cater - lemon herbal (lemon, herbs like juniper, amber and cedar)

Ace - naughty cherry (cherry, almond and rose, vanilla and woods)

Deuce - citrus rhubarb (citrus and rhubarb, rose, warm musk)

Savanaclaw

Leona - clear wild (rosemary, neroli, musk and sandalwood)

Ruggie - dried nuts (hazelnut, vanilla, creamy musk and dry woods)

Jack - calm pear (pear, osmanthus, amber)

Octavinelle

Azul - salty milk (salt and minerals, herbs like sage, milky musk)

Jade - bergamot amber (bergamot, herbs, patchouli and amber)

Floyd - aqua vetiver (Japanese pepper yes, a literal pepper, a fresh bouquet, vetiver and musk)

Scarabia

Kalim - mystical musk (citrus, white flowers, creamy musk and sandalwood)

Jamil - smoky herb (spicy herbs, white flowers, musk and smoky leather)

Pomefiore

Vil - elegant fruity (cassis, white flowers, vanilla and musk and sandalwood)

Rook - dry green (eucalyptus, geranium, tonka beans)

Epel - spicy apple (cinnamon, apple, vanilla and sandalwood)

Ignihyde (warning that these were vaguely worded compared to the rest of the fragrances)

Idia - clean musk (“something refreshing”, lily of the valley, sweet musk why does bro smell sweeter than most of the others www)

Ortho - bluish clean (rosemary and other “fresh” smells, clear plants/greens he’s touching the grass that Idia refuses to)

Diasomnia

Malleus - deep oak moss (forest, spices, sweet and earthy vetiver and oak moss)

Lilia - historical depths (citrus, roses and white flowers, thick musk and sandalwood)

Silver - musty green (black pepper, cedarwood, warm sandalwood and musk)

Sebek - honest aroma (rosemary, white flowers and spices, patchouli and oak moss he shares a base note with Malleus, this was 100% intentional)

Grim + NRC Staff Shoot, no Rollo, Fellow, or Gidel valentine gift :(

Grim - innocent soap (citrus, lily of the valley, peach and musk he just hopped out of the bath)

Crowley - mysterious calm (***fatty aldehyde***, white flowers, cedarwood and amber)

Crewel - sweet charm (amber, woods, sweet oak moss)

Trein - tense wood (spices, dry woods, “sweet tangy tone” sorry, the base was vague)

Vargas - manly musk (smoky spices, incense, vetiver and leather and musk)

Sam - exotic bouquet (cloves, bouquet including ylang-ylang, tropical woods)

***NOTE ABOUT CROWLEY’S:*** I looked this up! Apparently, fatty aldehydes smell like fresh citrus but I believe the literally translated term is “fatty aldehyde”; not sure why it was worded like this. There are many forms of aldehyde and each smells different. For example, one form smells closer to a rose. Another supposedly smells like rancid butter 💀

[currentfandomkick]

Pt2 reincarnated Tim gets the Wail aka Phantom Shrike

Part one here

Virgil let Tim in, leaning against the wall as Tim looked about his room, clearly searching for where to start as his head looked everywhere, largely at the walls and floor, but not directly at Virgil.

“So," Tim began as he wrung with his hands awkwardly. "I’m going to guess you noticed the early reflexes thing and flinching when you use your powers or Nightwing lights up his escrima sticks?”

Vigil raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t need to be a detective to see that a mile away.”

Tim took a seat at last, settling the urge to scream as the beanbag chair engulfed him. “So, Dick told you all about the uh, JJ incident, or do i get to explain that?”

Virgil moved back to his desk, moving his project to the side. “Just that it was bad.”

“It was.” Bad enough to revive a former lifetime and activate his meta gene. “Kind of shot him, but not me? He’s still in a coma from it.”

Tim waited for Virgil’s reaction. Virgil merely turned to face Tim again, sitting backwards in his swivel chair with an unusually neutral expression.

“I, uh, always had a thing with electricity before that.”

Tim fiddled with his hands again. Counting taps in twos and threes. Dad mentioned it after his last anger management session as a grounding technique. Tim found it… useful. For other things. Largely subduing shrieks, and kicking his trauma triggers in the nuts—when he was certain it was rude to break out tetris anyways.

“Mom called it ‘soul memory hugs’, and not to look into it when I was a kid.” Tim continued, tapping out one of his favorite songs in a modified version of morse code.

He remembers going to Janet in the middle of the night, asking where the nice red head girl went, and why she was crying when he got shocked in his sleep and everything went green. Janet just soothed his concerns and reminded him that the Talons don't go for society kids, but maybe the little girl lost someone and Tim reminded her of him. That he was not responsible for the girl and to let her come to him on her own terms, but to keep a few back ups prepared "just in case" and had him sleep with salt in hand and an iron bracelet.

“Didn’t stop the flashes of," he still couldn't adequately describe the flickers of his pre-Tim life. Of a realm made of ectoplasm the way theirs was made of carbon. The sentient food, watching people walk off injuries that should have crippled them, or the Fenton Driving Watch for the weather. Tucker's laugh and his varied PDAs, or Sam's smile promising someone pain. Dani's joy when she stabilized and befriended Val. Val's everything. "Of something,” he finished lamely.

It'd all been so difficult to pin down back then, as it was too vague without the rest of his memories giving context. A hand holding his. Someone protecting him, other times being punched in the arm or patted on his shoulder almost in condolence of some sort.

“Usually just a warm feeling that uh, stuck if it was static, no pun intended!”

Virgil shook his head with a smile, leaning into the cushion of the chair. “Sure thing Rob, keep going.”

“But when I started going out as Robin," it began a bit before, when he was gathering more evidence of Bruce as Batman to validate his threat of exposing Bruce's secret identity if that was the only way to the man to stop and get help. The sense of dejavu and the stray thought of 'Wes is rolling in his grave' that he never could explain away…

"As Robin," Tim repeated after a beat of silence. "and got hit anytime? It, it changed." his taps stopped being to any song at all. Mouth pulled to one flat, Tim continued. "Flickers of something," he leaned his head to one side, before moving it to the other as he spoke. "Became more and bits of something else.”

Virgil leaned back minutely, face starting to tinge with pinches of worry. “Do any of the Bats know about that?”

Tim shook his head. “B wasn’t, uh,” Tim fiddled with his hands more, not taps or morse code. More hand wringing and flexing phalanges. “In any state to even recognize I wasn’t Robin the Second when I started,” he confessed.

Virgil seemed frozen, like he was mentally recoiling as he moved from his chair to perch on his bed to see Tim and be closer to him for some reason. And now far more attentive than the earlier lull.

Tim shrugged off his concern, as it wasn't like anybody was unaware of how badly Bruce took losing Jason, or how badly Batman took flying solo. People are excellent at ignoring inconveniences to them. and a compromised bad was inconvenient to the GEL.

“No one noticed in the field as Robin was still who he called. My job was to deescalate him, not the other way around.”

Virgil pinched his brow. “So your mentor was violent, and you mentored him rather than mentoring you.”

“Yeah, for most of the three years I pieced him back together. He had me go through the ringer and work under a lot of mentors for combat. Some villains too.”

Tim briefly wondered if Lady Shiva’s offer would extend to helping him take out Joker… And if he could live with himself if he did. Joker killed Jason and was a contributing reason to his parents' hesitation to letting him take up a mantel again in Gotham.

Tim ran a hand through his hair, trying to push that thought aside and the relief of it out of his mind. “Didn’t really tell B things until it was mandatory or necessary. And I wasn’t Robin like Dick and Jay were. I wasn’t and won’t be his son. Just the kid pulling his ass out of his own head and enforcing his old code on his ass. With whatever weapon I need to keep others safe.”

“Hey, Rob?" Virgil interrupted. "You do realize what that sounds like out loud, right?” Virgil's form radiated tension.

Tim could only give a strained smile in return. “Dad and Step Mom lectured me on it and not sacrificing myself for someone that can’t even see me, not the people they wish I was.”

Virgil shook his head as he leaned back. “No wonder you’re off patrol in Gotham.”

Tim let out a long exhale through his nose. “Yeah. Dad sort of wasn’t around until after Mom died, and uh, fixed his priorities.”

“Deathlike do it,” Virgil muttered to himself bitterly.

Tim tactfully ignored that as he knew it was something for Virgil to reveal to his family (not being dead) not Tim’s brand of meddling.

“So uh, Dad always knew about the memory hugs, and more recently the uh, flickers? I've been calling the longer and more detailed memory hugs that. A lot of people get flickers of previous lives and shit, so no need to tell Bats when he frankly couldn’t tell ass, elbow and knees apart.”

Virgil whistled long and low. “Cool, cool… so what does that have to do with the Joker Incident and the extra sensory shit you’ve clearly got going on.”

Tim took a deep breath. “Joker uh, used electric shock repeatedly as a way to torture me. Tried to re-write my memories to be his kid, not B's."

Virgil froze.

“Which is ridiculous. If anything, B was my kid." Tim curled his toes as the memories tried to creep back in. He wished that etiquette allowed him to play tetris right now—to distract him from the phantom sensations.

"Same thing happened in the last life and it," he struggled how to articulate the change of impressions and images to the meshing of time and emotional intermingling. "It stopped being flickers."

He bite his inner cheek and could feel the barely noticeable mouth scars pinking as he bit down. All while Virgil's eyes watched his every move. "More, more like flashbacks, I guess. A lot of time being tied down with an asshole demanding I kill my dad and join him as his evil apprentice. Sometimes it was bleeding memories and superimposed images of people I knew then onto people I know now. And it uh, kicked my meta-gene into activating.”

Virgil finally moved, visibly tabling most of what he said. The tension in his own shoulders dropped when he realized he wouldn't have to go back to that horrid laughing place in his mind . “What kinds of activating, and how’d they emerge?”

“A few my step mom clocked—I could hear better and had a larger pitch range that my voice cracking couldn’t hide. Mostly on their own but the uh, scream one is uh, a work in progress on emerging still.”

“So you can hear people coming from further away?” Virgil surmised.

“Not exactly. Its uh, complicated<" Tim let his shoulders and hands do the talking again. "A local eco-terrorist and meta is helping me with where it overlaps on her turf. Apparently plants can hear a lot more than we thought and have opinions on my singing skills. Mainly, that they suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath and looked up. Tim waited for him to give the okay to keep going.

Virgil waved him on once he was done pleading to the ceiling for something to make this more bearable.

“So uh, Ivy is teaching me how to understand plant languages, in exchange for beach cleanups and something I already planned to and had in the works.”

“A rogue is teaching you about your powers, and the adult who you were monitoring in hindsight has no clue.” Virgil rubbed his face before looking up. “And Dick, he looped in?”

“Not yet, I uh, want to know more before becoming a pet project for the extended Bats, you know?”

Virgil conceded that much.

“And its only one aspect the rogue knows! She helps a lot of metas hide their abilities and teaches them how to cope and work with it on their terms. B knows about her doing that and doesn’t interfere with that part of her work. Everyone knows about her doing it.”

“But not regarding you?”

“Its," Tim scrambled to find the right word. "Its complicated.”

“A lot of things with Bats are.”

“Look," Tim held his hands up in surrender. "My dad will go down for attempted murder, if not murder one, if B is around me anymore. I don’t know what they said, but Dad found out about Robin a few weeks after I escaped the JJ incident…”

Virgil paused, face loosening as something clicked. Shoulders slack, he muttered, “you almost died, didn’t you?”

Tim bit his inner cheeks and scars, tapping a littler harder than before. “Legally dead a few times during it, and uh, got to relive the times I died in my last life.”

“How Bad?”

Tim could feel Maddie cutting into him, could see her comparing his insides to Ember’s.

“Mad scientist parents found out I stopped being fully human. It, it was, it was bad.”

“Shit.”

Tim swallowed dryly. “Yeah. Uh, I was hoping, no pressure or obligation, if you’d be okay helping with exposure therapy with electricity. Yours doesn’t sound the same as, as,” Tim felt that urge to scream grow in his throat. He clamped his hands over his mouth and used that trick from Fear Toxin.

“Tim?!”Virgil stood up.

5 things he could touch. His mouth, shoes, ground under his feet, the chair he was sitting on, his clothes.

4 things he can see. Virgil, door, poster, desk.

3 things he can hear. His breathing (too quick), Virgil’s static field, hum from the lights.

2 things he can smell. Stress and BO.

1 thing he can taste. His teeth.

Tim dropped his hands as his throat loosened to safe speaking levels as he repeated the steps. “Sorry, just uh, some stress requires screaming now and it, its not safe to be in the blast radius.” Tim ran a hand over his face. “Learning pitch control still and the screams tend to uh, level things. Missions are fine, the, the flashbacks…”

Virgil nodded slowly. “Not far off from Canary then. Talking about JJ triggers it?”

Tim nodded with a hard swallow. “Talking about the, the memories from the life where my parents uh, killed me and the dying by them after half dying from fixing an invention of theirs and having multi-dimensional portal kill and revive me simultaneously multiple times does it too.”

Static opened and shut his mouth. “Flashbacks frequent?”

“Yeah, kinda. Telling my body we’re not being strapped down and vivisected is uh, not something it likes to believe. And survival first, questions later. Fear gas is so much easier to handle,” he complained.

Virgil nodded slower this time. Tim knew it was a lot to take in.

“So, a Canary Cry?” Virgil began once the silence began to stretch to uncomfortable.

“Kind of?” Tim read her file enough before just in case, and he had clear add-ons she didn’t have. “Enhanced hearing too, but I can use infra sound and hear it if I tune into it. Also can hear the weather more than usual.”

“More than—you could hear the weather before?” Virgil stared at him.

“Assumed it was the autism,” Tim dismissed. “Could be both now.”

Virgil shook his head, possibly grumbling about 'white boys' under his breath. “Any other metas in the family?”

“Not that are still around. Dad’s cousin had a similar voice ability,” Tim talked around the issue of Black Canary Senior being his disowned cousin. “But never met her. Fled long before I was born on Dad’s side. Mom’s is a mystery in general unless you ask for someone specific about a specific event or topic.”

Virgil shook his head. “Okay, but are you sure nothing else has gone on, anything unusual?”

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Broke down Batman’s resistance to me being Robin using what Mom taught me about destroying my enemy’s mental fortitude, so… I don’t think so.”

“Think on it. And I can help with the exposure therapy thing if you want, but getting any help for all of this besides me?”

“Step mom, Dad, and Ivy. Robin’s supportive but doesn’t know any specifics… I think. She caught me during training on a surveillance mission, only knows some powers. Dad, step mom and me are the only ones that know about all of them.”

Virgil sighed. “Bats can’t know?”

“Not if we want my dad to stay out jail.”

Virgil looked up at his ceiling. “Planning to your tell your friends?”

“…When I have a better idea of how to control the screaming part. They were already convinced I’ve been meta since we met.”

“Might have been.”

Oh, Tim had not thought that part through.

“…maybe? I’ll have to work that out at home… and thanks. I mean it.”

“No problem man, just try not to mix me with anyone you knew last life, or not too bad.”

“You’re safe. More worried about mixing current friends with my dead ones.”

Virgil shooed Tim out.

Tim relaxed, just a touch, before going back to cases in the commons and catching Stephanie up on Titans BS with everyone chiming in.

It was good to be home.

—

Tim knows, logically, he can tell his team about being murdered by his parents in his last life. He also remembers meeting Greta and knowing she wasn’t truly Dead, which is something he can’t explain fully still…

Virgil might have had a point about being some sort of meta (or maybe magic?) long before the JJ incident. Most kids can’t evade Batman and Robin for years just to take pictures of them mid-flight.

Maybe a sound nullification ability or something to that effect… he can bribe Ivy to help experiment with it later.

The problem is he doubts Kon wouldn’t lead the charge with his dad to summon and beat up said former filicidal parents. And he knows that the whole team would be on board if they knew.

He would rather not see Maddie or Jack again. Especially while awake. Jazz showing up a bit different in his dreams and complaining about his broken sleep schedule making it harder to visit was something he remained on the fence about telling anyone.

Possibly harass Captain Marvel about it as that guy said nothing about people’s shit unless it becomes a game of which plane of existence you can stay on… but even then, tracking him down without bat-tech is a game of whackamole.

There’s also the complication of Tim being very aware he likes Kon, and not necessarily as a friend alone. Which. He doesn’t have time for the additional sexuality crisis on top of his varied identity crises at the moment and the media’s questions about the two Robins and if Robin was gender fluid, flux or only out as a girl in Gotham and a young man elsewhere. He cannot add ‘crushing on a teammate’ to his list when he and Stephanie only broke up a week before the JJ incident and are just now easing back into their old friendship. He doesn’t want the amputated feeling of losing a friend again because he keeps catching feelings for them, and is 10,000% certain he should not touch romance until he’s in a better mental state.

He has Problems on his plate, and it’s already overflowing. He’d rather not break.

And he loves his friends. But he has no doubt that Cassie would set up the pitchforks rather than stop any of the retribution his father was undoubtedly planning. He can’t gift-wrap his friends as minions in his dad’s crusade to fuck over the Fentons across dimensions, spacetime and afterlife status.

He did manage to make a small list of oddities for himself about his capacity to do things that were vaguely ghostly or similar to powers he’d pieced together.

So far potential intangibility or density shifting, invisibility, faster recovery rate than non-metas yet slow for a meta—speed seems dependent on how likely the injury is to kill him. His high tolerance for the cold was making sense the further in Winter he got and the more he’d see flickers of Frostbite training him in his last life.

Whatever an ‘ice core’ is, seems cool. He may have taken to playing with discarded freeze guns and be reworking them to be smaller and more compact. Possibly to add to his future vigilante ID, or to be a general weapon as a civilian given non-lethal status and his ability to add a melting rate adjustment knob of some sort, and call 911.

Bart saw him with it, grinned manically, and joined in helping him improve and adjust it. Slobo joined them both.

Cassie took one look at them and declared it ‘not her problem if they freeze themselves’ while Kon was out on another press tour thing.

Tim pretended not to note those had increased lately only on days Tim was staying with Just Us for non-mission things and Kon’s increase in excuses to avoid him in general.

If Kon wanted distance, then he’d get it. Even if it stung. Kon’s time and his life to spend as he pleases. And clearly, Tim displeases him. /worthless. Monster. Failure. Stand-in. No wonder you’ve always been a loser—/

“So, for Robin time or outside the mask?” Greta asked when she caught the three near the end of a schematics debate.

“Not sure yet,” Tim admitted. “Rogues are weirdly chill with me in civvies lately. But that could be Ivy being Ivy.”

Bart and Slobo’s debate died at that. “Ivy?”

“Uh, Poison Ivy’s plants outted civilian me for something i was dealing with. She’s decided she’s helping with fine-tuning my control on it and gave me one of her ‘protected by’ pins.”

Greta hummed, floating nearer while Bart was buzzing in his place.

“and its a good thing?”

“Other than her shipping me and my ex? Parents approve of the additional support and it’s made intel gathering easier. She was right about the hearing range increase being a bitch to deal with daily.”

Cassie came in with their takeout then, and everyone dispelled to their usual nonsense.

“So, Ivy ships you and your ex?” Greta began with innocently enough.

Tim debated banging his head against the table.

“My civvie self and Gotham’s Robin,” he clarified. “And only enough to throw cuddle pollen on her and lock us together in… varied situations. And laugh about it.”

Cassie blinked at him slowly. “You are being teased by a Rogue who ships civilian you, with a vigilante.”

“… to be fair I am getting plant speak lessons, but yeah.”

“Rob, what the fuck,” Cassie shook her head.

Tim shrugged. “Its Ivy. A safe distraction for the minors she fights is her preferred MO. if it’s just Bats she can and will use sex pollen. If kids or unclear on minor status are involved, cuddle pollen galore.”

“Uh huh.” Cassie and Greta share a look. “So you dated girl Robin, before she became Robin?”

“She was Spoiler first, and I gave her tips on managing Bruce’s ass when I uh,” Tim still didn’t know how to explain ‘forcibly removed from vigilante activities as his dad worried about him dying in a cape like the last Robin, so Tim was forced to pass the buck of Bruce’s mental instability onto his ex-girlfriend and close friend, Spoiler, and coaches her in Bruce Wrangling at a distance’.

“Forced semi-retirement?” Cissie suggested as she stole a slice of pizza, cringing at Tim’s. Which was all his as Bart didn’t care for it. Sucker’s bet on keeping their slices safe from speedster snatching. Amateurs; clearly they never went to boarding school.

“That,” Tim took a bite of his Canadian bacon and pineapple goodness. “And also she’s officially Oracle’s Robin," he swallowed. "Just B’s for combat scenarios. Dad has decided to threaten B’s living status for her too.”

“Rob,” Slobo interrupted. “The fuck.”

“…in my defense, she asked me out a week after almost killing me the first time.”

“Your dad, not other Robin!”

“First time?!”

“She prefers bricks as her projectiles.” Tim wiped his hands clean after his first slice, humming as he went over the blueprint… how should he compensate for his screams and Wail?

“Oh, and she aimed at my head. She’s into three section staffs lately which is a lot less deadly.”

“Rob. She asked you out after almost killing you?” Bart clarified.

“… not on purpose but yeah.”

“She asked you out by accident?”

“No, almost killing part. She’s gotten better aim since, and is following the no killing until you’re not a bat-affiliate rule.”

His team shared looks he didn't bother to check. The urge to analyze could spiral into another screaming attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

“So not getting back together with her?” Greta clarified with a smile that screamed Gossip Detected.

He let her have either way, even with the looks Cissie, Bart, and Cassie shared.

———-

Let me know if i missed any tags ^^

[babyspacebatclone]

And the end result of this monster is…

…..

Marshmallows.

😂

I was considering making this as a joke of we had more decisive ingredients, instead with have marshmallows with some strawberry gelatin powder, mandarin oranges, pecans, whipped topping, and half a dozen maraschino cherries.

Which actually doesn’t sound terrifying at all, to be honest….

Just got reminded of this old post of mine.

Hey! Meme time!

(A sampling of the type of desserts I’m referencing, in case you think I’m making any of this up.)

[fucking-leave-me-alone-pornbots]

Miles have no idea how to flirt and he is too ashamed to ask so he takes inspirations from cliche romance shows and steel samurai fanfictions. It goes as well as you expect.

He runs on Nick on purpose while he is turning the corner so Phoenix can drop his files, Miles can apologise and maybe invite him out for drinks right?? right???

Oh shit he was holding a coffee. Coffee landed on Phoenix's legs. Phoenix is screaming. He burned his legs. Oh no.

He invites him for lunch anyway. They chat nicely, right when he is about to make his move someone gets killed and Phoenix swears they find the killer within an hour thanks to Miles' murder glare.

Miles sends roses alongside updated autopsy repord for his case. He even writes something poetic on card. Except he writes it in a way that it's so vague Phoenix has no idea that poem might be about him. Not only that Phoenix is so used to one sided love and pinning he forgot the possibility of that beautiful man might be into him too. Instead he thinks Miles send him evidence (??) as an apology for coffee accident. They are not evidence. They have nothing to do with the case. Everyone laughs at him.

He invites Phoenix to somehwere fancy and oh no, it turns out they have to share a bed which is absolutelly not acording to plan. Miles tells him again and again he is fine with sharing bed but Phoenix believes he is just trying to be kind. So he drags whatever he could find on ground and spends the night on DIY bed which destroys his back.

Next time he tries to act all tsundere and stuff. "it's not like i care about you, stupid" he says (or some variation) he wasn't expecting Nick to burst into tears. Maya gives him stink eye. He is an asshole.

Miles is nuts. He is unstoppable. He cuts Gumshoe's salary dolar by dolar everytime he fails. Gumshoe is crying too.

bonus:

During 7 years gap, Miles invites Phoenix and Trucy to somehwere in Europe for holiday. Turns out the room (2 rooms, one with 2 bingle beds and one with king size) was double booked and they have to share single bed. Phoenix offers to sleep on couch so Trucy and Miles can share the bed but Miles declines, saying three of them can fit easly.

He is not wrong. They put Trucy inbetween them and they whisper-talk until midnight because Trucy is asleep.

Phoenix wakes up to see his daughter and Miles asleep and instead of goung back to sleep, he just watches them because he knows even if he tries to sleep with all his might there is no way he can close his eyes to them.

[neallo]

a non-exhaustive list of my personal favorite mello/near fics posted in the year of our lord 2024. complete fics only; maximum one rec per author. this means many of these writers have more gems to offer for mellonear and/or other ships; in more than one case, it was challenging for me to select only one. i highly encourage readers to poke around and read, kudos, and comment to their heart's content <3

click here to see the AO3 collection with my notes!

Archistrategos by veresova (@veresova) M/M | 4,328 words

Mello has several things protecting him: a name, a group of saints, animal instincts, and Near’s maniacal faith.

King and Two Spades by AngelEllipsis (@read-watch-sleep) M/M | 4,793 words

Near finds a discrepancy in the organ failure statistics this year. 0.7% of unaccounted for heart attacks. No one has noticed yet. No one will notice, if his heart give out, too.

the roof by lightningblade (@lightningblade) M/M | 3,692 words

“Not enjoying the party?” he asks, making Near jump in surprise. He clears his throat and tries to look back at his textbook. “Um, not really. I don’t go to those.” “Right,” the other boy chuckles. “Why would you when you have this depressing ass roof space to hang out on?” -or- Near and Mello fall in love with the help of a rooftop, a rusty lawn chair, and some sweet ass origami skills.

And The Starlight Blooms by tsukinousagi (@quicktimeeventfull) M/F | 1,919 words

In which Near attends the concert of her favourite Kpop idol, Misa-Misa of Love:NOTE. She likes the bed. It’s got everything she or anyone else could want. Her phone. Her laptop. Several stuffed animals. A Lego kit, half-finished at the foot of the bed. A sleeve of ginger nuts sealed with an elastic band. Several bottles of water, one of which still has liquid in it. It’s a great place to be. She doesn’t often leave.

In Harmless Indulgence by SaccharineCoffee (@saccharinecoffee) M/M | 1,569 words

Mello treats his scars while contemplating Near's own.

from the world's best-dressed half of the Third L by fullmoonism (@halfmoonism) M/M | 1,943 words

(Like he’s ever needed to. It’s Near on the back of his retinas when he aims his gun, Near on the roof of his mouth when he spits blood, Near on his charred skin when he peeled himself off the concrete in the ashes of the Kira case. So Mello lost. Mello lost, and it’s still Near in the sharp hollow of his head. He doesn’t need Mello to be an anchor when he already is one.) -- As Mello does, he deals with Near's offer to be the (better-dressed) half of the Third L about as well as anyone expects of him. Which is to say: he excels in everything except dealing with his emotions.

veni vidi vici by opaleyedprince (@opaleyedprince) M/M | 3,154 words

The final sixty-two days of the Kira Case are among the most trying of Near's life.

ab imo pectore by eightspringdays (@eightspringdays) F/F | 6,401 words

Because for Mello, hate is never truly just that. If she tries hard enough, she can pretend and think how simple is to pick just one color out of the palette of emotions that Near paints on her. Mello has tried her whole life to cling to it. To think that red is the only thing she sees when Near is in front of her. Rage. Not passion. It could never be that, even if anger also carries a certain shade of twisted love that she tries to ignore. She wants to pretend she’s colorblind. She wants to pretend she never saw anything at all. Ignorance is truly a blessing, but Mello has always been a little cursed. 

near and far between by Le_VI M/M | 4,966 words

“That sounds almost considerate,” Mello says dryly. “Watch it, N, you’re starting to seem vaguely human.”

reunion by bolide (@alarici) M/M | 1,937 words

After the explosion, Near presents himself like a lamb. Instead of staying away, Near takes a risk and goes to meet Mello, first. What happens after is completely to plan.

give up, give in by orphan_account M/M | 796 words

They’ve always fought their battle in close proximity. Near has always given off the sickening impression of minding his own business. Mello has only recently decided to make it less obvious that he minds Near’s business, too.

Convictions by empressofthewind (@empressofthewind) M/M | 10,782 words

Near is adamant that Mello's confinement was never about control. Mello is not so easily convinced.

only you and i by aaxzlyte (@aaxzlyte) M/M | 3,132 words

It's, honestly, exactly what he'd wanted upon initiating this. Mello would take Near's virginity and no one else would get the chance to even look at him. Near wouldn't want anyone else to look at him, because Mello would finally be enough, in some aspect.

floating and falling all at once by squidish (@squidish) M/F | 7,581 words

"I don't suppose you'd like to.. Spend the night here, with me, would you?" Near's face is determined, but her voice is quavering. "I have food that we could eat, and.. You could sleep with me. ..In- in my bed, I mean." Mello is silent for a moment, a little awed. -- In which Near overcomes her first-time jitters, and Mello is head-over-heels in love with her.

Powder Keg by dornishviper (@vriskarlmarx) rated E | 2,014 words

Mello stops by Near's room for a late night visit after getting her photo back earlier that day. Near has a certain... fixation.

Leviticus by vorareromantic (@vorareromantic) rated E | 12,454 words

When Near was thirteen, or perhaps even younger, she had (for the most part) broken out of the programming that Wammy's had worked to instill in their pupils from a young age. The Bible was strict and contradictory, it meant little to her besides the constant pressure and fear mongering. Mello, on the other hand, was as devout as one could be. It was ironic, honestly. Near would be the model Christian if she was a believer. Mello, on the other hand, could practically be the poster child of sin.

[starguardianniom]

Billy background

Ok so thanks to chapter 4 we got some background on Billy now and like I promised here are some of the many pictures I took about it, (it took me an hour just to get through it all because I legit took a picture of almost pratically all dialogue but I'll spare you all the details and just jump straight into it) and some more.

The Sons of Calydon just straight up trust Billy with their truck and their freaking bangboo for starters because he used to work for them, surprise surprise, we all thought so from the beginning and we were right. Still the fact that they are on good terms enough for that kind of job already warms my heart a lot you have no idea.

What fate are we talking about exactly? Why did you leave? You seemed pretty well liked, I don't get it. I need more information, you are being so vague about the details it drives me nuts, still love you though, but dang you will make me work to get your secrets won't you? Fine, that just makes you even more interesting in my eyes. ^^

Just like that Billy you just saved us a lot of trouble I feel. I bet Nicole was so relieved.

So you talked to Lucy then, must have been interesting.

Well, since you are the messenger it would be rude to decline their offer.

Wow, you really just follow orders to the tee and Nicole cares enough to actually be willing to let go of the case if we refuse, dang the honor code is strong with The Cunning Hares. ^^ Don't worry my dear I want Perlman in jail as much as you guys do so we'll go meet them~.

So you are doing a side job for a few days for them and Nicole is letting you, good for you my man. Wait does that means that Red Moccus actually is staying with you and the Cunning Hares for the next few days? Wild. I bet Amillion was thrilled.

Dang, I guess Nicole is mad that you let Perlman get away right under your nose, don't worry I'll make sure that we get him back so that you get paid. I do hope that Nicole would still actually pay you even if you did let him go considering the sole reason why she, Anby and Nekomata are still alive was because you were there to help Lycaon climb aboard to save everyone so I do hope she will go easy on you.

Sibling concern as usual, fortunatly~

No dice on what was my answer, right? ^^

My thoughts exactly, pretty nice to see that out of the Cunning Hares Billy seems to be the only one who could still go back to people and friends he knew if it came to that, even if he doesn't seem interested in going back for some reason.

Yeah, if you're friends with Billy that automatically makes you friends with the Sons of Calydon, hell yeah! They aren't even mad that they had to rescue us and that Billy left them all that time ago, this is how you leave groups people, on good terms, take notes y'all. Caesar is so wholesome.

On the other hand, why are these the only options available after this wholesome dialogue, hoyo do you want us to have a problem being friends with Billy despite me already having maxed his trust, or make us tsunderes? Stop making me insult my boy please!

That ain't convincing very much Belle but I feared the other possible answer too much so sorry about that Billy you are still my favorite character in the game and Hoyo will never make me dislike you, try all you want he's still gonna be in my heart forever.

That one question I've been waiting for is finally here!!!

This. I straight up swear, while the Cunning Hares are a found family, you don't see Nicole and Anby calling Billy "bro", the Sons on another hand do. I keep hearing Anby saying "I got you sis" refering to Nicole in battle, and telling Billy to get some repairs while she's switching with him.

I would like to highlight that Caesar is saying that even if Billy has left the gang for a while so I guess he still has the title even if he isn't with them anymore, guess that means that if he ever leaves the Cunning Hares he can just go back to the Sons and get back his title and nobody will protest.

So Billy had a pretty big job in the Sons, neat. With all the responsabilities and stress that comes with it. Interesting~

Lighter having Billy has a rival, he also calls Billy his predecessor, meaning Billy had the position first and then it went to Lighter I guess. Lighter saw Billy in action and found him worthy of being his rival. Also that last sentence makes me thinks that Lighter forgot that Billy was literally made for battle, he's an Intelligent Tactical Unit, a battle android, he was made to fight so of course his combat skills are something else. But I really am tempted to pull Lighter just to have a few more info on Billy, given he seems interested in a duel with him and admires him, it seems legit that he might talk about him in some of his trust events, I sure hope so at least, because I will be very disappointed with Hoyo otherwise.

Again Hoyo, stop dissing my boy when others are praising him, like I know we might be used to the goofy side of Billy but like we also go on commission with him and the Cunning Hares a lot so surely we would be used to seeing him in action by now shouldn't we and like we are proxies not fighters we legit have no room to talk Billy is the one going in the Hollows risking his life we just give him the directions and the exit but if Eous is damaged we'll be safe at home, while Billy won't, so can we just stop with dissing him already? Please and thank you.

Going by that comment I assume Billy used to behave a lot more differently in the Sons than how he is now, but it does beg the question of how much drastic the change was, I mean an entire freaking gang of thugs ran away from him when they recognized him, so he must have been pretty scary and intimidating back then, but now he seems to look back on that side of him with a bit of shame? Anyway seems like he's pretty happy with his life with the Cunning Hares according to Lighter, being his dream life, which again, good for him this is wholesome on so many levels. ^^

Finally done, this took a while. I got fed with Caesar and Lighter happily providing info on Billy, but I still need more!

Still it was all very interesting, I will stay on the lookout for more info on Billy, feel free to also come at me with what you find about him too, or just talk about him, or gush about him, or shoot me your headcanons too, I will talk about him forever. ^^

[beelmons]

cw: smut (minors dni), perv!spencer (a little only), accidental auditory voyeurism, spencer is a cuckold yet again, preestablished relationship with hotch

This is a work in collab with the loml @ihavemanyhusbands

A/N: i'm losing my mind to f*cking tumblr doing insane shit so i'm not formatting this one post .

It was an impulse, the product of lack of thought; he was not a pervert, this wasn't wrong, it wasn't like that. It wasn't like he had dreamed of your curves a million times, or that he had cursed your name under his breath whenever he came on his phone screen, beautifully adorned by a picture of you.

Right, he didn't steal your neglected panties straight from your go-back after returning from a case, and he definitely wasn't pressing them against his nose, every breath covered with scent of the one thing he craved the most.

His cock, however, could not be gaslit into rejecting such thoughts, painfully strained against the folds of his pants. The fact that he was laying face down on his bed, face buried in your crumpled up underwear, was not helping.

It didn't feel fair to simply 'bust a nut' to the thought of you, regardless of how many times he had done that, when he had committed such a heinous deed to his standards. It was his punishment to not be touched, to feel the pulsating ache of desire between his legs.

He wanted so bad for his face to be buried between your legs instead, taking his time to savor you. Probably like a desperate, starved man that had long been denied a meal… which was exactly what he was.

All too often, he tried to imagine what sounds you’d make, or how your breath might tickle his ear when you sighed his name into it.

Fuck.

He couldn’t help himself. He needed some sort of relief, anything he could get. He grabbed his pillow and tucked it beneath him, between his thighs.

Needy whimpers escaped his throat as his hips bucked against the pillow. He tried to envision the firm press of your body against yours, heat radiating from you. Oh, what he’d do to get lost in that heat.

But, regardless of the potent imagination life had gifted him, it alas wasn't enough. Perhaps he was going too hard on himself, who could blame him for getting worked up due to you? Everyone knew you had driven him to madness, everyone but you. If you could just spare him a glance he would put heaven at your feet if that was what you wanted.

His hands moved on their own to set his member free, the fabric of your underwear still tangled in between his fingers, and sweat running down his back in anticipation. If he didn’t touch himself, he wasn’t cheating, right? He folded the pillow in such a way that allowed a tunnel to be formed, tightly gripping onto it so it wouldn’t unfold, and without wasting any time he slowly began to penetrate it. 

His other hand helped him keep steady as his knees stuck to the mattress, giving him enough angle to let his hips swing back and forth. Your panties were sticking to his skin, slightly painful, and so he decided he needed a new place to keep them safe. The garment was moved into his mouth, safely guarded between his teeth. His tongue grazed over the specific area where your arousal once was, the faint scent of you deliciously rubbing at his nostrils. 

He could picture you beneath him, his eyes falling shut to begin forming his own reality; your body would lay face down against his bed, your ass perked up the slightest to allow him the access you both craved. He imagined trailing the side of your body with his hands, and how he would grip at your buttocks enough to leave you wincing in vague pain, the ultimate proof of being his.  

He was just starting to get lost in his fantasies — hips picking up speed, drool forming at the corners of his lips and head slightly tipped back in bliss — when he was interrupted by his cell phone buzzing.

Worried it might be an emergency, he begrudgingly stopped his motions and stretched towards his nightstand to grab it. He saw your name on the caller ID, and his heart began pounding in his chest for an entirely different reason.

He immediately dropped your panties from his mouth and swiped to accept the call.

“Hello?” He said, trying to keep his voice even.

On the other side of the line, there was no response. Well, at least not the kind he expected.

He could hear panting breaths and a rhythmic sort of creaking. At first, he frowned in confusion, but then his eyes widened in realization. His stomach practically dropped as his ears were suddenly blessed with your pleasured mewls.

And suddenly, another voice, one that sounded all too familiar.

"Look at you clenching around nothing. Do you want my cock that bad?"

“F-fuck, yes please…” you whimpered.

Oh.

Something like a light slap could be heard. “Such a needy pussy.”

He was in too much shock to properly process what was going on, let alone think about the ethical consequences of what he was doing, was it okay to listen to you getting fucked by, whom he presumed was, the unit chief? Was he jealous? Angry that another man was reveling in the delight that he knew your pussy was?

He would have dwelled in all those thoughts if it weren't for the way he could feel his dick twitching with excitement underneath the fabric of the pillow. The phone was dropped to his side, speaker mode on, to play the role of background melodies to his sinful activities.

The lewd noises, proof of how well Aaron could treat you, were echoing through his otherwise silent room; he closed his eyes, the final step to spiral down into the delusion he had started. His palm pressed harder down on the cushion, you certainly were tighter than that, but that would suffice, it had to.

He pictured you, once again, beneath him, begging for more into his ear just like you were doing with that other man. You asked for deeper, and deeper he went, the outline of the pillow brushing against his lower abdomen whenever he thrusted.

His free hand was pressed against his mouth to keep himself quiet, aided by the panties that he voluntarily smeared back onto his face; he had completely forgotten to press mute, too lost in the illusion of being able to wash you with pleasure.

“I’m so close, fuck,” you panted, voice strained. “Just like that, oh please don’t stop…”

Spencer could feel himself nearing the edge as well. He rutted his hips with wild abandon, wanting to reach his peak at the same time as you.

He pressed his hand tighter against his mouth, trying to stifle the little grunts low in his throat. What he would give to feel you squeezing around him, too lost in all the pleasure he could give you.

He would worship every inch of your body, memorizing every single reaction to see what you liked best. Could he ever be so lucky?

“W-where do you want it, baby?” Aaron rasped.

“Inside me, please,” you pleaded. “Don’t pull out.”

He heard the exact moment that you unraveled, your moans were a melody he never wanted to stop hearing. He was so close, so fucking close…

But then suddenly, he heard a rustle, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, shit…” you hissed, and there were more rustling sounds on the other end of the line. “Spencer?”

And just the sound of you saying his name finally undid him. As he was seized in ecstasy, he spilled all over the pillow, biting hard on the lace fabric of your panties. His movements became jerky as he rode out his high, but soon his movements stopped altogether.

His head swam from the intensity of his orgasm, and it took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in once more. His entire face flushed with shame at his auditory voyeurism.

But on the other hand, a part of him was still thrilled at the whole thing.

“Spencer, are you there?” He heard you ask as he stifled his panting breaths.

“I don’t think he heard anything. You can probably just hang up,” Aaron said.

"Right." you answered your partner before a closing door could be heard, it was very possible Hotch had gone to take a quick shower, leaving you alone in the room. You didn't hang up right away, instead your voice lowered to a mere whisper "Spencer, if you're there, could keep this a secret? I'm very sorry you had to find out like this. I will explain everything tomorrow, but please, please, don't tell anyone. Love you, good night."

'Love you' was the best thing that could have come out of your mouth that night, second only to the spill of his name as you came, of course, but he wasn't that lucky.

He looked down at the mess he had made, evidence of the embarrassing situation he had gotten himself involved into, and yet, not a trace of regret could be found within Spencer Reid.

Why would it? The tune of your delight was engraved in his mind, the faint taste of your arousal tingling on his tongue, and the picture of your bare body seemed to be the only thing amiss. But, overall, how could this be anything but a strike of luck?

That's what he told himself, that was how he lied to himself. But this was a very dangerous game Spencer was playing, and for one simple reason: he wasn't playing in the flesh.

Therefore, it would never be enough. Not unless he had you to himself, unless he was able to be better than Hotch.

[bitchinbarzal]

Flat Tire | J Middleton

summary: jake just so happens to be the right person at the right time.

-

You weren’t supposed to be here.

That was the thought running through your head as you stared at the busted tire on your car, the flat rubber deflating your entire afternoon.

It wasn’t even your car—it was your best friend’s, borrowed for the day so you could run some errands while she was out of town. Now, you were stranded in the parking lot of a gas station on the outskirts of St. Paul, debating whether to call for roadside assistance or just sit on the curb and accept your fate.

“Need a hand?”

The voice was deep, edged with amusement, and when you looked up, your first thought was he’s big.

The man standing over you was tall, broad-shouldered, and sporting a wild beard that made him look like he’d walked out of a lumberjack catalog. He was wearing a beanie pulled low over his messy hair, and his hoodie bore the Minnesota Wild logo.

“I’m not great at accepting help from strangers” you admitted, shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun.

“Good thing I’m not a total stranger” he said, kneeling down next to your car to inspect the tire “Name’s Jake”

Your brain clicked a second too late. Jake Middleton. Minnesota Wild defenseman. You weren’t a huge hockey fan, but you knew enough to recognize him now that you were looking properly.

“I, uh—” you hesitated, caught between wanting to acknowledge who he was and not wanting to make it weird “You’re on the Wild, right?”

He grinned, tilting his head as he reached out to poke at the tire “Guilty as charged. But today, I’m just a guy who knows how to change a flat.”

You exhaled, the stress of the situation making you cave. “Okay, Jake-from-the-Wild. Be my guest”

What should’ve been a simple fifteen-minute tire change turned into a full-blown lesson. Jake insisted on showing you how to do it yourself “just in case” he’d said, despite your protests that you probably wouldn’t remember any of it later. But there was something about him that made the whole ordeal less frustrating. Maybe it was the easy way he explained things, or the fact that he didn’t make you feel stupid for not knowing.

“You live around here?” he asked as he tightened the lug nuts.

“Yeah, kind of,” you said vaguely “Not too far.”

He shot you a look like he knew you were being purposefully cryptic, but he let it go.

When he finally finished, he dusted off his hands and stood “There. Good as new. Well, temporary, at least. Get the tire replaced when you can”

You leaned against the car, watching him. “Do I owe you a beer or something? Pretty sure that’s the standard payment for heroics”

He chuckled “Nah. But I wouldn’t say no to a coffee if you ever feel like returning the favor”

Something in your chest did an unexpected flip “Are you asking me out as a thank you for letting you change my tire?”

Jake shrugged, an easy grin on his face. “I’m saying you seem cool, and I wouldn’t mind running into you again under less unfortunate circumstances”

You should’ve said no. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested, he was charming in a way that felt genuine, not forced. But the last thing you needed was to get tangled up with a pro athlete when your life was comfortably normal.

“Tell you what” you said instead, reaching for your phone “Give me your number. If I ever need another impromptu life lesson, I’ll text you.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Deal.”

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

Merlinverse Wheel Interactions - Collection Post

I was bored, so I spun the wheel a couple of times. I actually only ignored results I already had, but removed options later on to get more variation. I haven't consulted anyone and just went from vague memory, so lemme know how badly I am off the mark. xDDD

Lavinia attempts to play matchmaker for Zelda

Magister Zelda by @fgfirenation

I believe we had this scenario before, where Zelda is playing matchmaker for Lavinia, when she learned that Zelda actually has en ever so small thing for a certain rabbit. 

But truth is... I think Lavi is a rather bad matchmaker. At least in terms of taking action to get them together. She is much rather having long talks with Zelda about when and how and possibilities of outcomes, never failing to encourage Zelda to do whatever is needed. Although, she might also be one to STOP the magister from doing something entirely headless. Since Lavinia's bound to Holistone in service, she'd not often have the chance to actually meet and talk to Lorsan. But since Lorsan is traveling, he might actually drop by and then when he does, Lavi is definitely observing VERY HARD and trying to see what he thinks about Zelda.

So yeah, rather than orchestrating things, she's gotta do the observing and spying and information forwarding. xD

Lavinia learns a new skill from Zelda

Uhm, so the standard answer is, of course, that any Merlin will one way or other, show Lavi how to deal with the left-over Hypogean magic within her. So the definite "feeling" of magic in and around herself, the certain things one can do to ease stress related to that, actual little spells and so on.

On another note, Zelda is such a powerhouse and crazy creature... that I feel like it would be so silly and cool if Lavi learned something as beautiful, delicate and soothing as sand mandala creation. Or like making small pottery creatures. Or making jewellery? xD Anything that's a little unexpected and shows Zelda's warm and caring side. Maybe it's crocheting? Felting? Well, origami, at the least! 

Lavinia playfully argues/banters with Sena.

Magister Sena by @bunnybird-afk

I am not sure what this means, to be honest. It sounds more like teasing to me... and in that case, I gotta move forward in time a little bit. Lavinia and Sena are comfortable with each others presence now, not least due to Valen, and there may have been little squibs from one to the other before. But for more lengthy banters, I think Lavinia's firstborn is the perfect reason. xD

Shall the kid have this or that to wear? Can it have tea and why couldn't it be wrapped up in a sock rather than a blanket? Can it be levitated around the Mystical House and climb up the towers made of books? Bedtime is when again and what bedtime story to read? And so on and so forth. <3

Lavinia teaches a new skill to DK

Magister DK by @gloriousrebirth

Ah, oh no, I don't think Lavi can teach ANY Merlin a new skill. xD At least certainly not in terms of magic. And what other skill might she be able to show to DK? Probably something incredibly boring... like a useful knot for tying things up. Maybe that knot turned out essential later on when DK needed it on Sinbad. xD Or maybe DK likes the nuts Lavi sometimes brings to the Mystical House not knowing that they have simply been soaked in water over night. Or maybe the same memory trick Lavi taught Molpe, given Merlin has an issue with forgetting things. xD

Lavinia compares opinions about .... with Celestino

Magister Celestino by @meepinmeat

Well, naturally the first thing that comes to mind is Valen. And that's not gonna be all too exciting, since they have the SAME opinion about him. xD BUT, given the difference in universe, they would probably be quite interested in the subtle differences of the Valens.

Alternatively, if it's CelVerse Lavi, then she'd be just friends with Valen and the three of them have, given her experience etc, a VERY in-depth discussion about the Heroic Order! And subsequently the Celestials and their role against the Hypogeans and whether they might not also be required to help "Esperian" problems.

Lavinia fights/spars with Celestino

Since Celestino is a Merlin, whether Lavi is from CelVerse or her own, the fighting is training in regards to her Hypogean powers. Not that Celestino would have to really break a sweat, though, it's all basic routine stuff. And yet, sometimes, he might make it extra tough for Lavi, not only forcing her to use her magic but also still the sword to win. And I don't see a reason why he wouldn't be able to drag Dionel into the ring, too. "Must I really, son?" and "Yes, really, or do you want to risk her ending up corrupted and on the other end of your spear for real?"

Lavinia attempts to play matchmaker for Rose

Magister Rose by @afkhowstrange

Not. xD Ahahaha, while they probably have a good relationship and can easily sit together with tea and cookies after training sessions etc, Lavinia is still too impressed and careful in what she does around Rose. Playing matchmaker? I don't think she'd allow herself to. That doesn't mean she'd not be interested and observing from the sidelines, to witness any developments. And if Rose ever confided in Lavinia, she's happily try to help in word or action (although she'd always feel silly for "setting anything up").

Lavinia offers to dance with Rose

Oh boy, you know what? Maybe THAT would be something Lavinia isn't embarrassed to do for Rose in terms of matchmaking. I don't actually know who Rose might have a crush on, but this dance would definitely be the perfect excuse to then go and ask her crush, too! Whether a confession follows, I don't know... but at least Lavi's done something for Rose to have a good time. <3

Lavinia meets the child version of Molpe

Magister Molpe by @mcnana

Aww, that would be so adorable! I don't think there would be anything special about the situation, but Lavinia has a way to pay actual attention to children and thus be perceived as a "nice lady" by them. Or on some cases, a lady to be reckoned with, not unlike Valen. Either way, Molpe probably lost her way or something, and Lavinia takes responsibility as a knight and delivers her back home. Getting her treats along the way, of course, and talking about her favourite games to play. xD

Lavinia offers to dance with Violyste

Magister Violyste by @magister-violyste

Hmmmm, this could be somewhere on the job, of course, a professional matter, if you will. But maybe it would be more something in relation with Hogan. xD Maybe there is no such thing as marriage for them, but let's assume there would be something akin to it, a special celebration, an anniversary, you name it... and since Lavinia is just part of Hogan's family and work, she might be asked to help with that. And then, to help Vi prepare, am sure Lavi would help her remember dances again. After all, Vi can't possible say no to Hogan when he asks, and you bet, he WILL ask. <3

[stoshasaurus]

i literally JUST discovered your ramv1 tag and I have to say I did not know I needed this and I am very obsessed. I am looking through the tag, and I'd really love to know where you got this idea and why you think they work, but my own speculation is because of how very different their stories feel, nearly opposites of each other. Ramattra wants Omnics to co-exist with humans, albeit probably away from them (as far as I remember, i have not read his lore in a hot second), while v1 is straight up slaughtering all life it comes across out of a need for fuel. So... very opposite from each other XD

either way, absolutely obsessed with this, no idea I needed this ship in my life

I love indoctrinating innocent bystanders into my cult.

Frankly, I have no idea how they came about. I like to claim that they came to me in a dream, or a strange divination, but the truth is just as vague because I literally don’t know. Even if I did know in the beginning, it’s been long enough that I don’t remember now.

I think it stems from them both being designed to kill. Granted, V1 comes from a world of machines that are built with the sole purpose of killing, while Ramattra comes from a world where his kind is really uniquely made for killing (yes, bastion and orisa units also existed, but there were tens, possibly hundreds of thousands, of completely docile brands of servant omnics. Ramattra and his brethren were merely a fraction of that population). So Ramattra feels like they share a bond in their purposes. Also, I think the ultrakill universe’s earth, albeit to a certain degree (he does have his limits for violence, unlike v1) kind of sounds like his ideal world. All humans dead? Robots rule? Sounds awesome (ignoring all of the other caveats).

It also probably stems from my religious need to ship my favorite characters together, and the often strange crackships that usually results in. That’s the more likely answer, to be honest.

My dynamic for them could potentially be one-sided, and sometimes is depending on how angsty I’m feeling. Ramattra is a mechanic, a man who designs his own null sector units, and probably admires the form and function of machines. My Ramattra is the biggest simp known to man in that he regards V1 as being the ultimate machine. A divinity, compared to him, one that moves quickly, self-repairs, and is one of the most efficient killers he’s ever seen. He loves it as a character but also as a machine, and worships it as its own deity, almost. In summary, he’d LOVEEE to stick his hands in there and see what makes it tick (in every imaginable way). Considering my V1 notably lacks personality (at least in my head. In art, that is very much not the case) it could be a very one-sided relationship. But because I am a sucker for sucrose in my ships, I imagine v1 regards ramattra as a beacon of safety, the armor that its lithe frame lacks, and a home that it can consistently return to and rely on when it is damaged or worn down. He helps it develop personality, and in turn becomes obsessed with what he regards as pretty much a god in mechanical flesh.

Does that make sense? God I hope so. These fuckers drive me crazy.

Anyway, if there’s anything else you’d like to know, PLEASE feel free to ask. Ramv1 drives me absolutely nuts since the moment it blessed my stupid little head and I will take any given opportunity to ramble about them. Or share your ideas!! I love hearing those too.

Thank you so much for this question.

[fratboycipher]

I don't know enough about your oc's choose whichever one for this ask game.

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

:D thank you for the ask

im gonna do it for noname and SEA ORG RADIO. "thats two people" you may say. to which i say everything w them is funnier as a duo and frankly if i did just sea he'd be annoying

noname on the left, SEA ORG RADIO on the right (those links go to more detailed bios)

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

noname is haunted by childhood in a highly restrictive and isolated cult! He was raised as sort of a golden child, isolated even from the usual cult-typical strong community with the intention of being a sort of enforcer of their ideals. He's out now, but sees echoes of them everywhere he looks(probably not helped by the fact that he's in a story called Cult Of Personality. it comes up a lot). And of course, the fear that they'll come back for him again.

He lives with it through direct action! He's a journalism major who does independent projects writing exposes on various high control groups and helps run and maintain resources for people escaping similar situations to him. He gets a little intense about it, and maybe just a little uses it as a substitute for actually unpacking his own issues. Don't worry about it

sea is also haunted by cult-related happenstance, but in a different way. he was an outsider who was the victim of targeted violence by a cult when he was a kid. or well, attempted victim, it didnt end up working out for the cult. either way he does not remember them fondly.

He lives with it through uh (checks notes) being really into cults. Like not in the "joining them" sense, he thinks that's lame, but he runs a college radio station dedicated to their activities and propaganda, keeps attending various cult meetings uninvited, and keeps trying to hook up with various leaders and/or godly figureheads. I am not quite sure how this helps, but he says it works for him. He and noname tend to uh. argue a lot

Unrelated, sea has been banned from several cults meeting grounds.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

noname has two, basically entwined things, where one is that he wants noone to have to go through what he did, and the other being he wants the group he was raised in to be utterly obliterated so he never has to worry about them again. he's pretty open with both of these! he knows the first one is unrealistic, but thats what he's dedicated all his resources towards and would love for other people to join the fight. he's also open about the second one, and he and sea argue about it, in the sense that sea says its a very achievable goal and he should do it and noname asking sea to stop recommending he murder people. sea says booo coward

what sea wants is to hook up with naten kick davey mistavi in the nuts finish his programming homework yeah I dont know im not getting a straight answer out of him. I think that answers the are they open with it question too. As for why, for a guy who talks a whole fuckin lot he's a surprisingly private person

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

Yes for both of them! They're both a kind of entity called a godling, which can mean a lot of different things but in their case both means they're vaguely inhuman omniscient something-or-others. And also it comes with autism. Like, it ended up being written as a metaphor for growing up with autism, and then i gave them autism anyway. That's not relevant, moving on

sea grew up very aware of what he was, with generally supportive parents who weren't exactly human(not godlings either, but tomato tomahto). hes used to adapting to and functioning with all it entails and considers it an integral part of him, so id say accepts

noname on the other hand grew up raised by a cult of more or less normal humans who hid what he was from him, and he didnt know beyond the instinctual feeling of Somethings Not Right until he got out of the cult and went to college. So he is aware, but it's still all a bit new to him, he's very uncomfortable with it and tends to suppress it in ways that aren't too healthy. Not quite rejects but not quite accepts, he's kind of in the middle about it. as i said. he and sea argue a lot

[captainhysunstuff]

Transcript: The Chain - Light's Situation

The Chain - Light's Situation comic

L and Light are lying naked in a hotel bed under a blanket. Clothes are strewn all over. Light's arm is around L's shoulder as the detective lies on his chest.

L: Hmm... What should we do about the investigation? It can't close as long as there's an active Kira.

Light: As long as I'm not convicted, I don't really care.

L: *sigh* If I drop the case when a "new" Kira appears, it'll be a huge blow to L's reputation.

Light: A small price to pay for your life, right?

L: *pathetic whine* I suppose...

Light: *considers L, then sits up* How about this: We could fabricate a specific Kira for you to chase and catch? That way, it will look like you're still doing your job.

L: Or I could close the case, and you could start killing people in more subtle ways than heart attacks.

Light: Until the world changes permanently, Kira has to be visible. You said so yourself. We can't remove the training wheels before getting used to the ride.

L: *facepalms* Ugh. So L is just a glorified Kira chaser now? Fantastic.

Light: Once people figure out how to catch the fake Kiras, they won't need your help anymore. We could also nudge them in the right direction if they lag.

L: *glares at Light* WAIT. Then the fakes will be doing the massacring while we do the meaningful kills? That completely nullifies my "quality over quantity" stipulation! It doesn't matter if you aren't the one technically doing it!

Light: *looks away trying (and failing) to appear unassuming* Whatever. I'm just trying to help save your precious reputation. All that matters is that we don't get caught.

L: Yes. We can figure out the finer details later.

They sit in silence for a moment.

L: So, would you mind telling me exactly how "Kira" came about?

Light: It's kind of nuts, really... So, there I was at school; bored out of my mind. I look out the window, and there's a notebook falling from the sky. I found it and picked it up after class.

L: At your school? It was just lying on the ground until you found it? So, it could've been picked up by anyone... You weren't necessarily chosen then...

Light: ...I later tested it out on a hostage situation. I didn't think it would actually work, but it did. The hostages were released unharmed, and the rest is history.

L: And Ryuk? What exactly is the relationship between the murder notebook's human user and the shinigami? Rem has been very vague about that.

Light: *annoyed glare* Okay, first off, stop calling it that. A shinigami basically watches over the notebook on Earth and, by extension, its user. Ryuk was the one to drop the notebook I found, so he sticks around until I die, give it up, or the book is destroyed.

L: *perplexed* "Dropped it?" How does one accidentally "drop" a notebook into another dimension?? *thinking* Idiot shinigami...

Light: *rubs neck and laughs* Oh, he did it on purpose. He was bored and wanted to see what would happen. That's why he wrote basic instructions inside of it.

L: Huh. What a motive.

Light: Henh, it's relatable though, right? Boredom's a problem for everyone, and we all deal with it differently. You solve hard cases, I take on difficult projects, and he drops killer notebooks~.

L: Hm.

Light: Anyways, the shinigami can also make deals with the human user, such as lending them powers in exchange for lifespan. For example, there's the Shinigami Eye Deal where the human is able to see another person's name and lifespan just by looking at their face.

L: "The eyes..."

Light: There could be other deals, but Ryuk seems to be on a need-to-know basis about them.

L: Interesting... You never did the Eye Deal I take it?

Light: No way. Half of my remaining lifespan is way too pricey.

L: Yikes.

Light: *hesitant* Oh. There is one... other stipulation between a shinigami and the first human who picks up their book.

L: *notices his hesitance* ?

Light: *nervously grins* When it's time for me to die, Ryuk is supposed to write my name into his personal Death Note.

L: *alarmed* ...At the natural end of your life, right?

Light: Weeellll... Noooot necessarily? He's told me in no uncertain terms that he'd kill me if he ever got bored again. Annnd he can't return to the Shinigami Realm if the notebook he dropped is attached to a human, sooo...

L: *very alarmed* Light!! That's--

Light: It's no problem! Just keep him entertained and feed him apples, and we don't have to worry about him! He's not that bad as far as roommates go, really!

L: *VERY alarmed, grabs Light's shoulders and shakes him a bit* No. NO! That's a terrible thing to have hanging over you!

Light: What's done is done. I can't just make myself not pick up the Death Note.

L: *frantically muttering* But if you give it up or destroy it, he won't be tethered to you and be forced to kill you to free himsel--

Light: *grabs L's face* NO. I'm not giving it up again. Everything's fine with Ryuk. I promise.

L: *squished cheeks, frustrated* But--

Ryuk: *fazes partway into the room, covering his eyes* Hey, I keep hearing my name. You guys decent?

Light: *pulls up blanket a little higher* Decent enough.

Ryuk: Phew! I thought you two would never stop caterwauling--

L: *panicked* DON'T KILL LIGHT.

Ryuk: Whoa! Where did that come from?!

L: Please don't kill Light before he's meant to die. Please.

Light: Keep your voice down...

Ryuk: Well, I mean, whenever his name is written down will be when he's meant to.

L: I'm serious. Whatever I have to do to prolong his life, I'll do it.

Light: *touched* L...

L: I have more than enough money to provide you with as many apples are you wish. Any flavor, brand, you name it.

Ryuk: *starts drooling and eyes glow* R-really? Light's not poor, but he's not rich either... And he's been pretty stingy when it comes to apples...

Light: L, stop! You're giving him ideas! Don't spoil him!

L: I'm trying to keep you alive!

Light: I told you: I have everything under control!

Ryuk: No no, let's hear him out, Light-o~.

Light: *puts his foot down on the matter, angrily jabs a finger at Ryuk* I'm not gonna let you break his bank with apples! If nothing else, it would look really suspicious!

Ryuk: *droops* Ohh. You're probably right about that.

Light: Of course I am. (*implied but not said aloud* Bitch.)

Ryuk: *perks back up* In any case, I still wanna see how this new partnership between Kira and L turns out. It's too juicy of a plot twist to pass up! *laughs* *thinking* And there's no way it's gonna be all sunshine and rainbows with these two freaks. They're too interesting for their own good~.

L: *shakily laughs*

Light: See? Everything's fine.

L: I suppose.

Light: *smooch* You need to relax.

L: *smiling* Says the one who was having breakdown at the sight of a painting.

Light: ...I had other things on my mind, too. (*implied but not said* Shut up.)

L: Is it wrong of me to want you alive as long as possible?

Light: *doubles down on smooches and nips* For L the Detective? Yes, it's very wrong. Buuuut I may be willing to forgive you for your sins~.

L: *happy aroused noise*

Ryuk: *turns away, blushing embarrassedly* Oh jeez. Are you guys going at it again?! Let me leave first! I'm holding you to your promise of apples for this!

Light: *on top of L in the background* My turn~. ♥

L: Ohh~! ♥