#i hope you enjoyed dear anon!

[harfanfare]

Hey! I really love your "how to win the heart of." Can you do one for Vil? If not that's totally fine I'm just curious.

How to win the heart of Vil Schoenheit?

Be a fan.

You like to think that the oldest memory you can recall is how you became Vil’s fan.

Until then, the recitals your school took you on were boring. Only in fifth grade, the teachers realise that, hm, maybe ancient plays might be a bit too much for those little brains, and in a spark of determination to change something, your class was taken to watch a staged version of a fairy tale, played by youngsters for youngsters.

The memory of Vil, the villain of the story, entering the scene is much more vivid. Even as a child, he was inarguably elegant and strikingly beautiful, it left you agape and your curious heart beating loudly in your chest.

“It’s better than having a completely fictional crush,” your classmate said after you confessed how much endeared you were by Vil and his acting. You listened as you typed a password to a newly-created Magicam account, solely for following him there. “There is a chance that you and him will be together.”

“A big chance?”

“Uh, like this?” She tries to show how big your chance is with her fingers. She wants to leave a gap between her fingers, but ultimately, they touch, and she puts her hands down. “I mean, we are almost the same age, so maybe you can go to the same high school as him? In a very long future…”

“I am not delusional…”

Nonetheless, the thought did make you hope.

After you reached the age of sixteen, the invitation came. For a whole year — since you saw Vil’s post on his new college choice — you’ve been pondering whether you’ve possessed enough magic talent to get into Night Raven College, the school of chosen. In good dreams, the Magic Mirror deemed your soul to be solely fit for Pomefiore. In nightmares, you were doomed to… well, any other dorm, if you were a student at NRC at all.

And maybe dreams really come true because the future you’ve anticipating has turned into a reality.

“Alright, is everyone from Pomefiore here?” Your heart stops when you hear that wonderful voice, this time not from your phone nor from 100 meters away from the speakers. You turn around, and there he is, Vil Schoenheit in all his glory stands and guides the students to the hall of mirrors. He looks like a portrait, and even if you saw his face thousands of times, the glint in his eyes redeems you speechless. “Congratulations, everyone. We will hold the welcoming introductions at our dorm. Follow me!”

Yes, Vil Schoenheit is your idol. And in the first seconds of meeting him, you were ready to follow him to the end of the world.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Get rejected. Have your heart broken.

“I apologize,” Vil says slowly, and you notice how his voice is a little monotonous. Just a bit, as if he had repeated these words countless times like the lines before a recital. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate your feelings, [Name], I want to focus on my studies and career. It’s a bad time for me to think about dating. Nonetheless, thank you for being brave and sincere enough to tell me all of this.”

You nod. The pain in your chest gives you goosebumps. It makes your head spin so fast your legs feel unstable as if there is some shift in gravity. You bow with curtsy because every Pomefiore student should be able to do so elegantly even on a space station. “Thank you for listening to my confession.”

“Of course,” he says and looks down at the letter he got from you. It’s neat, somehow cute with how carefully his name is written on it. He holds it gently so as to not crinkle the delicate paper. “I will read the contents tonight.”

“Thank you. No need to write a response,” you force a little chuckle and excuse yourself. You will be overthinking how could you say something like that after you get over your stupid letter and even dumber confession.

Vil doesn’t say anything as you walk a little too fast to keep the step elegant. He sighs at this view and mindfully tucks your letter amid the pages of the book. Now’s the time for history class. He shouldn’t get distracted—

—and soon enough, you’re out of his mind.

That is until he reads your letter.

It's a beautifully crafted confession, put into elegant lettering and a pale pink envelope. It's sealed with red wax in the shape of a perfect heart; if you haven't used magic, it must've taken several evenings to get the precision you wanted.

You’re his fan. He knows it even if you hadn’t pointed it out; the well-tailored sentences betrayed your utter attention on him in the last several years. You’re his fan, but you don’t cheapen yourself. He is the idol you admire and love, but you don’t degrade yourself to a servant or a worshiper. And that is, unexpectedly, uncommon.

The letter is—also—a challenge to yourself. “If you were to reciprocate those feelings, I will prove myself worthy to stand by your side,” it reads.

He likes that letter. Once he finishes it, he skims over the text one last time and puts it between many other letters he has gotten. Between them, another envelope seems unremarkable, yet the words there…

Unforgotten.

He sighs. Maybe he will pay more attention to you from now on.

‏‏‎ ‎

3. Don’t remember all the etiquette rules.

“You wrote in your letter that I've inspired you to learn. Go on, then. Show me how motivated you are.”

So, now Vil bullies you over your letter.

He can’t be satisfied with your scarce etiquette knowledge—he wouldn’t be content if it was decent, as it would be a dishonour to Pomefiore—but amusement crinkles in his eyes at your utter confusion over the numerous forks, knives, spoons and glasses. They’ve been spread out in several rows and columns varying from the oyster forks to champagne flute.

You hesitate. Maybe you could point out which one is the butter knife or sugar spoon, but you never cared enough to discover which fickle knife is a fish knife. Should you be looking for the one with grooves or an extremely thin one? Would it hurt to use a normal knife to eat the salmon?

Oftentimes you’re thankful there is no awkward silence between you and Vil after your confession, but you can’t shake off the impression he’s been harder on you.

“On second thought, maybe I wasn't motivated enough to learn all the names of cutlery,” you say, not daring to try your luck in labelling each piece.

To your surprise, Vil smiles and uses a teasing tone that leaves you stunned and wide-eyed. “Is that so?”

You take a breath and huff, lowering your eyes. “Yes. The power of—,” unrequired, you bite your tongue on that bitter word, “—love ends here.”

Vil cracks another delighted smile. You start suspecting that someone drugged him with a smiling potion, as you should have received a severe scolding by now. You don’t have anything against the change, so the mention of Vil’s (relative) laid-backness goes unmentioned.

“I will have you seated next to me on tomorrow's dinner, so don't even think of slacking off,” he says, putting a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you towards the next table where the heavy textbooks look so very uninviting. “I won't have any student under my wing not know the basic etiquette. Especially if it’s my fan.”

‏‏‎ ‎

4. Have opinions and the courage to voice them.

Because standing for your own makes you flourish in your own colours and not blend into the monotony of the mainstream. Seek truth, good, and beauty and you will bestow the brilliance upon yourself.

‏‏‎

5. Try to have a healthy lifestyle.

You’ve never imagined Vil barging into your room with a tray of food. Why would he? But here you are, sitting in front of an aesthetically pleasing breakfast, mouth-watering pancakes with cream and a bit of honey, and the deep green shake in question that suits the colour palette but probably tastes awfully, like all good stuff packed with vitamins.

“You should never starve yourself if you want to live healthy.”

It’s hard to swallow anything as your dorm leader glares at you, but Vil refuses to leave you before he sees you eating the stuff he brought. You wondered if he prepared the breakfast himself. Probably not.

“No? I thought that keeping a diet is good.”

“If you are dieting you eat,” Vil hisses and sinks a little more into the couch. He brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he suddenly got struck with a headache. “Oh, heavens. What am I going to do with you?”

“Maybe—”

“Quiet,” it apparently was a rhetorical question. Maybe Vil would be mad at any answer from you as he considers you a fool. He waits until you take another bite of the pancake. “A dinner break will be in two hours, and I expect you to be there.”

“I think I will still be full by that time,” you admit, glancing at a pancake and a half. “These pancakes are savoury but so very filling.”

“Savor them as much as you like,” Vil says somewhat proudly. …Maybe he did make those pancakes? No. He wouldn’t bother this much. The satisfied note in his voice makes you ponder nonetheless. “But you have no excuse for yourself not to sit with us on the meals. Also—”

His gaze grows unexpectedly impish as his eye catches something.

“I will reeducate you on the topic of a healthy lifestyle,” he glances at the bowl of bland lettuce you prepared for yourself. He smiles, either in amusement or light pity. “It should have a little more… spice.”

‏‏‎ ‎

6. Take an interest in high culture.

“It feels like the hellish lessons of Heartslabyul…”

“The Queens’ 810 rules?” Vil’s smile is lopsided and his eyes render into a knowing look once they meet your gaze. “They are nothing compared to a number of customs in etiquette.”

You take a turn. The classes for today might have ended, but if hearing all that useful stuff meant you would walk with Vil back to Pomefiore, you could bear another few minutes of a lecture. You know that everything he tells you about, he already mastered. He wouldn’t teach you anything half-heartily.

“The etiquette of speaking, the dress code, the knowledge of dinner manners (well, you’ve mastered some part of it already, with the cutlery lessons), the control of body language, the indication of voice, the honorifics, the art of writing letters and emails… You don’t want me to list all of the things I expect from you?”

You would like to, because Vil’s voice is beautiful, but the student part of you takes over control and shakes your head. Just like Riddle, who has a reputation for demanding impossible care and inquiring rules, your dorm leader is not much better — maybe even worse, because while Heartslabyul has to oblige the absurd in chosen hours or circumstances, you are on your toes in every moment.

“So much to master in just four years in the NRC…”

“It’s a lot,” Vil says, and he’s the only person you would doubt if he speaks the truth in that matter. Especially if through your walk his strides seemed perfectly calculated and hand gestures finely planned. “But if you put a mind and heart into it, you will learn all of this in no time.”

You hum. It’s hard to think of having any more motivation than from where you were a zealous Vil fan.

You ask (ponder) and he delivers.

“Actually, I have an offer: if you’ll learn it all in ahead of time, I will teach you a dating etiquette.”

…

What?

“…Dating etiquette?!” You shriek so loudly, that several students turn their heads. You cover your mouth as if it would do something, and ignoring Vil’s delighted gaze, and lower your voice to a whisper. “There is such a thing?”

“Of course. Who should invite who on the first date and where, what gifts can you give and what can you accept, and how to behave with your loved one, like,” he pauses a little, and you almost know he bites the sides of his cheeks to contain himself from smiling, “How to kiss someone in particular situations.”

You want to die. How else should you react? How can he tease you so much when he rejects you? (Not like you were expecting much at the time, yet…)

“There is no kissing etiquette. You tease me…”

“Just a little,” Vil laughs, and you slowly relax. “But take my proposal seriously. If I can give you another motivation to engage in your studies, then I will by all means do so.”

‏‏‎ ‎

7. Get an access to his private Magicam account.

“Do you have Magicam? If you want to, you can add me.”

Vil asks the question. He should have chastised you for mindlessly scrolling through social media because you can probably put your mind and hands to better use. The casual tone surprises you, but the inquiry gets you defensive as if it questioned you being Vil’s fan.

“I’ve already been following you for years,” you declare and pull up your phone.

Before you get to his profile, Vil sighs.

“Not the promotional account,” he says. “Mine.”

You frown. Many times you’ve seen Vil posting the photos on the “promotional account” with his personal thoughts. Maybe because you've been blinded by the elegance and harmony of every post, the idea that he would operate the Magicam profile solely for business purposes has never occurred to you.

“You have another account?” You ask, flabbergasted.

Vil rolls his eyes at the surprise in your tone and sits next to you. Your phone beeps as you get a notification about a new user following you. In a heartbeat, you follow the account back. You almost gape at the pictures there; they are beautiful, elegant, and all in Vil’s manner, but he looks like… a common student. Not ethereally, not otherworldly, but still enchantingly.

“It’s a private profile, so I ask you for discretion. I would like to keep this one for my close friends and family,” Vil says, and you hastily nod, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Having access to his personal account felt… personal, ironically.

I would like to keep this one for my close friends — he said that, didn’t he? Does he consider you a close friend?

That’s more than you ever imagined.

And yet you dare to dream for more.

You pull your phone close to your chest. “I feel honoured.”

Vil smiles at the statement. “Of course. As you should.”

‏‏‎ ‎

8. Let yourself be pampered.

“Don’t move,” Vil asks for impossible because you want to bolt as he leans to you once again and only the glare he staggers you with as you push away the urge to close your eyes. You hope the foundation is thick enough to cover a blush that creeps on your face. “You will ruin my work.”

You give up and glance down, earning another heavy sigh from your superior.

“Maybe I should finish the eye makeup myself?” You offer. “I am unused to anyone doing my makeup, so it’s hard not to flinch.”

Your good intentions get ruined as the question aggravates Vil even more because he frowns at you. Staying put and keeping quiet about that whole ordeal would seem like a lovely idea, you question whether your heart could manage another hour in this setup.

“Don’t be absurd,” he says. “We need to handle your sensitivity to the touch or you will struggle in the future if you decide to be a model.”

“I am not—”

“Stop.”

“I—”

“Silence. Be quiet, potato,” he presses his finger to your lips to seal them shut. You feel something sticky, and as his finger traces your lips, you realize it’s the lip gloss, and it’s a very good-smelling one like a strawberry; you didn’t expect something so sweet-tasting to be in Vil’s liked products. “You are under my care now. It also brings me satisfaction to see my skills used on someone.”

“Vil—”

“Shut up,” it’s hard to get offended at him, as he uses such a gentle tone. He takes a good look at your lips and as he glances up at you, probably to see if the colours of the whole makeup are consistent, your mouth goes dry. “Before I tell you to do so, don’t speak. You will mess up with the lip gloss and it’s… difficult to apply one on you.”

What? It’s difficult to apply the lipgloss on you?

Alright**,** you nod, pondering if the lip makeup is really that difficult. Do you have an unusual shape of lips (it’s probably not that?), or is this balm so hard to spread? You sit still, as Vil moves closer to you.

Yeah, except for the touch you need a way to ignore the beating of your heart.

‏‏‎ ‎

9. Move on from your heartbreak.

“Would you like to go out with me today?”

A kind smile convinced you to agree, although you barely recognize the name of the boy standing in front of you. His voice was hopeful, and you were reminded of the time you bore the same expectant expression.

You had no heart to let it fall, not right now, not so quickly, so you paint a delighted smile over your face. “Thank you. I would love to.”

…

You should’ve done this a long time ago.

For the sake of your friendship with Vil, you decide to stop hoping that the man of your dreams might change his mind after getting to know you better. He found a friend in you, and you would hate to disappoint him with your longing for him.

So, you should distract yourself from him and fall in love with someone else.

Today’s date will be a perfect opportunity.

You dress quite stylishly, not enough to steal all the attention, but enough to impress your date. You put more effort into the makeup this evening and spend some time picking the most fitting jewellery. The perfume you picked is subtle but alluring and chic, an excellent concoction, but you could’ve expected nothing less from Vil’s recommendation.

…It feels kind of wrong to use everything he taught you to prepare for a date, but you would’ve used this knowledge one day either way, no? It’s not like he is your first… and last love.

“I heard a boy from Scarabia have confessed to you,” the familiar voice you love but don’t want to hear like now spooks you. Vil leans on your door frame, and you wonder how much he has stayed here.

“I just agreed on a date,” you say, standing up and adjusting the folds of your outfit. You look him in the eye. “How do I look?”

Vil snorts, and his lips stretch into a mean, devilish smile. “Are you expecting an approving comment from me?”

Asking the fashion icon to rate your outfit might’ve been a wrong move. You shake your head.

“Nevermind. He’ll have to deal with however I am if he doesn’t want me to be late,” after glancing the last time into the mirror and receiving a smile from your reflection, you pick up your phone. “Well then. I shall get going.”

Vil is still, as if he hasn’t been blocking the exit or as if he wanted to keep you here. You would have loved for him to stop you here. It’s hard to stop the disappointment from flooding over your composure when Vil moves away.

“Alright. Your look is satisfactory so that Scarabia boy better be grateful for being able to go out with you,” he says something ambiguous again, and you feel bad for your date who will have to deal with such a lovesick fool as you. “Enjoy your date.”

The pang of pain pierces your heart. You smile slowly and leave the room.

The heartbreak better goes away as soon as possible, or you’ll go crazy if the thought of dating anyone else hurts that much.

‏‏‎ ‎

10. Look kissable.

“You’re late.”

Maybe you are, but you haven’t been expecting Vil waiting for you. He sits on a sofa, a book is in his hand and the tea that was served in front of him looks cold. You can guess he’s been sitting here for a while.

“How did it go?”

“It went well, I think,” you say. The date went well. Yet, you couldn’t have enjoyed it. The throbbing pain in your heart strained each of your smiles, and it surged when the Scarabian student started to be flirty. You felt as if you were cheating. “He is a kind guy. He has some hobbies and is quite charismatic, so… He’s alright.”

Vil hums. “Will you settle on ‘alright’?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. He didn’t lift his gaze from his book, and his tone was nonchalant, so he almost seemed not interested. He was. He is because Vil never asks the question to whose answers he doesn’t want to hear.

“Pardon?”

He spares you a glance.

“I thought your resolution was stronger. What happened to the person who confessed to me and was so willing to determine their worth to me?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am furious,” he lifts from the sofa, the book forgotten. The air around suddenly grows warmer, and the shiver you didn’t mind that much runs down your spine. Vil’s strides are slower than usual, creating an imposing image of himself before he stands just before you. “If you want to set the bar so low, go on. But let me give you a taste of ambition.”

He twists his head so his eyes meet directly yours. He doesn’t touch you — not yet — but you can feel a warm breath on your cheek, and the scent of his light perfume envelops you. You have the urge to move away and cling to him at the same time. They balance, and you stay still.

A taste…

Vil puts a hand on your cheek. The gesture is much softer and more benevolent than when he was putting makeup on you. His eyes lock with yours, your heart stops, and then they drop to your lips. He moves a thumb over them.

And he kisses you.

In your dreams, you had him kiss your hand, the top of your head. The corner of your mouth. In your boldest wishes, you wanted him to kiss you like that, so lovingly, with so much care. It makes you want to push away for more air, but it makes you worry Vil will disappear if you break the kiss, as all the dreams shatter upon the morning.

He moves away, not breathless, yet not unaffected either. His cheeks burn slowly into a red shade, and his eyes look somehow glassy. “I told you, I will give you just a taste.”

How disappointing.

Before you can say something, he pushes a letter between your fingers. Its envelope matches the one you gave him several months ago. “Read it. I want an answer by midnight.”

The big clock on the wall shows you have over three hours. So much time, and you already know the answer. “You will wait this long?”

“I am giving you a chance and hope,” he says with a subtle smile. The blush on his face makes him more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him. “It’s my duty of your idol to do so.”

[skyafied]

hi there! i really liked your heavy redraws and saw you were asking for suggestions so may I ask for a little red Oktoberfest smooch or general fluff? pretty please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Oh yes yes you absolutely may!! Thank you so much for the request and kind words, I’m so glad you liked them!!! I am shaking you and spinning around rn!! 💥

As for the Red Oktoberfest fluff-

I think they both express love in their own way!! I love old men yaoi!!! I also managed to dig up this very old WIP, maybe I’ll get around to finishing it sometime :’D

[zombiequeenblog]

When the Cardinal got the call about the attack on Mouse and the sibling, do you think he reacted sharply over the phone to whomever he spoke with, or cooly responded and waited until he hung up to go ballistic? I’m curious about his initial reaction to the news. 🫢

The Cardinal sat there, alone in an unfamiliar office, and thought about the changes so close at hand. It had been a long time coming, he supposed; the steadily ticking clock on the wall kept his toiling years in the forefront of his mind. All the bustle and the striving, the whole dogged pursuit of his own dark papacy, might actually be soon behind him. Copia relaxed back in his chair for a moment, admittedly irritated at the gentle ticking, but grateful nonetheless for this brief respite. The Ministry could be a tumultuous place, but for now, all was quiet, and he was ready. 

His door was open, and an assistant poked her head in. “My apologies, Your Eminence.. you have a phone call,” she said, gesturing towards the phone upon his current desk. He noticed a light blinking there. “Sister Imperator.”

Giving the girl a nod before she left, shutting the door behind her, he reached out for the receiver. “Pronto, eh… Hello?”

Sister’s voice a bit tinny over the antiquated line. “Cardinal. I trust you’re well?”

“Yes, Your Dark Excellency.” Imperator wouldn’t have called without a reason. “What’s this about?”

“I’m calling about the girl you’ve been tutoring.” The leather of his glove tightened more firmly around the receiver with an audible sound.

“What about her?” Imperator didn’t answer right away, and Copia felt a surge of something like a panic forming deep in his chest. “Sister—”

“Oh, she’s quite all right, Cardinal. Don’t worry, honestly.” Don’t worry…

“What—”

“She…” Her voice sounded pained, and he heard her take a little breath. “There was a fair bit of trouble up in the old cemetery today. Some kind of a transient was… bothering her and another girl. They’re a bit rattled, naturally… fought him off and ran. Nothing beyond a mere scuffle happened, they assured me, but…”

“I’ll be there shortly.” He could feel the blood rushing in his head, and he fought to remain calm.

“Your Eminence, you do understand what you’re meant to accomplish over there?”

“I do, Sister.” He let the weight of his decision hang for a moment. “I should be able to manage arriving back at the abbey… tomorrow at the latest.”

“The girl is perfectly fine here; a few abrasions… I only thought you’d like to know as a courtesy. Considering the time you’ve spent together.”

A few… abrasions. “Please expect me tomorrow, Sister. Thank you.”

“Cardinal.”

“Yes?” The word came out heavy with concealed rage.

“She is perhaps not perfectly fine. If I’m being honest with you.”

He hung up the receiver without another word, and he watched his hand shake, threatening to splinter the plastic. Taking a steely breath, he extricated his fingers from the thing, and then he methodically began to pack up his desk. As he worked, measured and silent beneath it, the soft and steady ticking of the clock on the wall threatened to drive him insane; a horrible reminder of how far he was from her. This was hell, truly; right here in the passionlessly beating heart of the Satanic Ministry. Copia gulped, fighting the hot fury rising inside him, the urge to retch out the pit of ice settling in his stomach. He wouldn't waste any time; he would not give in to his inner torment here. How was she faring with her own?

When he was done, he reached out for the phone again, his hand now steady.

“I want a car waiting for me downstairs. Ten minutes.”

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

On his way down the hall to her room he bumped into Terzo, exiting his papal chambers.

“How is Mouse?” Copia queried, without thinking.

“Who?”

“The girl!” he snapped, ready to lose it.

“Shhh…” Terzo was carefully shutting his door, “Sophie’s still sleeping…”

“The other girl! I hear she’s injured? Why aren’t you with her?”

“I only have one dick, Cardinal.”

Copia pondered on how exactly his life would change if he snapped Terzo’s neck right there in the hall. 

Terzo chuckled for a second at his seething expression, before getting serious again. “She’s got a nasty scrape on her head, poor thing. I tucked her in earlier, no fucking involved, Cardinal… She’s resting, says she’s fine, but…” Terzo frowned further. “She’s quite shaken up, I believe, contrary to what she’ll tell you.”

Not bothering to converse any further, Copia continued on down the hall. When he finally reached the door to her dear little room he paused for a second, gathering his scattered thoughts. 

It was darkening inside, and he let his eyes adjust for a moment, though it was hardly needed. He knew the room well; how many times had he let himself in here, just to look upon her? How many times had he done much more than look? 

She lay on the bed, curled up in a fretful slumber, and the icy rage he had carried all the way here to lay at her feet began to melt at the piteous sight of her. His poor sweet Mouse! 

Reaching out, he arranged her blanket a bit more snugly around her, and he noticed then what she was clutching in her fingers; a swathe of red that left his swelling heart bleeding. He lay down beside her. 

He wanted to hold her close, desperately, but he would not yet allow himself that gift. She needed to sleep; she needed to be safe. She needed to be loved. And for all the ways he had failed her, he could at least do that, effortlessly and beyond severe. He would love her beyond his last breath, he thought, watching over her precious ones, her fragile chest rising and falling softly.

After some time, he noticed her begin to stir, and eventually she reached out for her light. 

“Dolce,” he said, gently. She whirled around, and the look in her dewy eyes at the sight of him made him want to weep. 

Finally, he held her. 

link to ao3

[johaerys-writes]

Re: revisiting the Thetis month(s?)- oooooh I cannot blame you. Heavy times. So fun stuff! What about the boys building that ill fated boaty boat when they were kids? What other projects did they get up to? ((Ps I’ve read Dawn, Revisited so many times now. So lovely and heartbreaking))

Ill fated (and ill advised) boaty boat adventure ye ask; that ye shall receive. Now up on AO3! :D

[scribomaniac]

Falling to Flying

Nesryn bit down on her lip. She bit down hard. Her world was in chaos. Heavy rains in the west caused one of the major rivers to flood the towns placed along its coast. Sartaq had taken a legion of his Rukhin riders to aid in evacuation and to provide supplies. Nesryn, heavily pregnant and ready to pop, was forced to stay behind. 

Never one to sit idly by, she quickly took charge of the situation, acting as the point of contact between the Tavan Mountains and Antica. 

“We’ll need to have jugs of water prepared to fly as soon as they give the word. Have fifty barrels filled and brought to the flight deck.” Only waiting for the affirmative nod from the Rukhin she’d given the order to, Nesryn quickly shifted her attention to an attendant beside her. “Head to the Torre Cesme. We’ll need at least twenty healers to help the villagers. They’ll need to pack for a long visit. People will be coming for help for days after the crisis has passed.”

A ripple rolled through Nesryn’s body, making her breath catch and her commands pause. Shaking the sensation off quickly, she moved on to the next person awaiting orders. “Refugees are bound to come here for sanctuary. Make sure we have housing, food and clothes prepared for them.” She pointed to another attendant, “I need breeches, and a list of all available Rukhin still in Antica.”

Shooing the last of them away, Nesryn took a deep breath and looked up to see Borte staring at her with a raised brow. “What are the breeches for?”

Mind already a thousand seconds in the future, Nesryn didn’t think anything of it when she answered, “My water just broke. Which reminds me, we’ll also need to prepare for children’s clothes too, not just adults.”

“Your water just broke?” Borte shrieked, her face a mixture of horror and disbelief. “No, no, no, no, no. We need to get you to your apartment right now. You cannot give birth here. Sartaq would kill me.” 

Nesryn waved off her worries. “I’m nowhere near giving birth. I’ve spoken in depth with the midwife and I have some time. Birth doesn’t happen in minutes, you know. I haven’t even had my first contract—” 

A cramp wrapped itself around Nesryn’s belly, stealing her breath from her lungs and the strength from her legs. 

“Shit,” Borte hissed as she ran to wrap her arms around Nesryn’s waist and help her into a chair. “Was that a contraction?”

“Yes.” Nesryn sighed as the contraction passed. “It’s fine, though. I don’t need to go lie down until they come every three minutes. I can still help with the crisis.”

She needed to help here. If she couldn’t mount Salkhi and go herself, if she couldn’t be with Sartaq during this catastrophe, then at least she could do some good behind the scenes.

Borte shook her head. “Absolutely not. You are not risking yourself or your baby by staying here. Hey, you!” She shouted at a nearby Rukhin. “Fly a message out to Sartaq immediately and tell him to get his ass back here. His wife’s in labor.”

Looking back at Nesryn, she said, “Okay. Let’s get you back to your room and I’ll call for your midwife.” 

“No,” Nesryn shook her head, her stubbornness taking over. “I have time. It’ll be—ah!”

Another contraction. Sweat beaded along her brow and behind her neck. The pain wasn’t terrible yet, but it was surprising every time it came. She tried to calm her heavy breathing.

“Was that three minutes? Has it been three minutes?” Borte looked at her with wide, fearful eyes. “Should I be timing this?” 

This wasn’t right. None of this was going to plan. Sartaq was supposed to be the one next to her, not Borte. Even with the messenger on their way, would he even make it back in time for the birth? Would he even be able to try? Or would he have to stay with his Rukhin until the worst of the devastation passed. 

“Whoa, whoa, hey now,” Borte soothed, her voice quiet and her tone much calmer than before. “Slow breaths, okay? In and out.”

Nesryn hadn’t even noticed the quickening of her breathing. Her chest was tight and there was a burning behind her eyes that told her tears were on the way. She tried to inhale, but found a clog in her throat and choked on it. 

“Nesryn!” Borte placed her hands on the other woman’s face, forcing Nesryn to look straight into her eyes. “In,” she inhaled slowly, encouraging Nesryn to copy her, “and out.” They exhaled. 

“We’re going back to the royal apartments, okay?” Borte nodded. She spoke as if this was a decision they’d come to together. “I’m going to stay with you until Sartaq arrives. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Nesryn nodded. She trusted Borte, and a part of her knew what she was saying was the right thing, but would everything be fine? She’d never done this before. It was one thing to be pregnant. Being pregnant was steady with set expectations. Giving birth was another thing altogether. No one ever really spoke about it. Most people said she’d forget all about it once it was over and there was a small bundle in her arms.

By the time the two women arrived at their destination, Nesryn was covered in sweat and gasping for air. The contractions were coming regularly now and lasting for almost a minute. This all felt like it was happening too fast. Wasn’t childbirth supposed to take hours? That’s what Yrene had once said. Duva had a long birth. Dread filled inside of Nesryn’s belly. Something wasn’t right. 

Thinking of Duva must have summoned her, for she rounded a corner just outside the door to Nesryn and Sartaq’s rooms. “Nesryn!” She gasped, rushing over to help Borte. Hasar showed up right behind her. 

“The midwife is waiting for you,” Hasar said as gently as she was able. “Everything is ready.”

Nesryn tried not to sob as she was placed upon the bed. Everything wasn’t ready and everything wouldn’t be alright. She was about to give birth to her first child and Sartaq wasn’t there. Chest feeling tight, Nesryn realized she’d begun to cry. Her vision was clouded over by tears, her mouth was hot and thick with saliva, and taking a breath seemed impossible. 

Nesryn’s face jerked to the side as Hasar slapped her. Hard. Feeling the bite of the sting, Nesryn looked at her sister in law with wide, shocked eyes. 

“What was that for?” She asked. Hands balling into fists, the only thing stopping Nesryn from striking back was a shuddering contraction.

Hasar’s nostrils flared. Eyes hard and unyielding, she told her, “Get ahold of yourself, Nesryn. You can’t go falling to pieces right now. Your child needs you to hold it together. Do you understand?”

Their eyes locked and Nesryn felt her heartbeat steady. 

“We’re all here for you, Nesryn.” Duva said, kindness and comfort emanating from her in waves. 

Nesryn looked at the three women before her. Duva. Borte. Hasar. They were all here for her. All ready to support her and make sure she made it through this. 

“So how about it?” Hasar asked, her chin raised in challenge. “You gonna do this or what?”

Squaring her shoulders, Nesryn released a shaky breath and nodded. Reaching out to hold Borte’s hand, she told them, “I’m ready.”

----

“I’m here! I’m here!” Sartaq yelled as he sprinted into the room. “Did I make it? Am I too late?”

“Calling that entrance late would be too kind,” Hasar drawled from across the room. 

Nesryn couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. Sartaq’s eyes followed the sound and as soon as he saw her, his shoulders slumped with relief. “Nesryn. Thank the gods.”

“You made it,” she said quietly. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and her hair was wet with sweat against her skin. She knew she looked a mess, but Sartaq looked at her as if she was the most magnificent creature on the planet. 

The blanket covering her bare chest shifted, catching her husband’s attention. Humming, she pulled back the blanket to show off the babe asleep on her breast. “Would you like to meet your son?”

Coming up to sit beside her on the bed, Sartaq reached out with trembling fingers to stroke his son’s cheek. “He’s so small,” he whispered. 

Nesryn snorted, “He didn’t seem so small to me.”

Releasing a breathy chuckle, Sartaq shifted his attention to Nesryn. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he leaned in to kiss her forehead, then kissed both her cheeks, until finally finding her lips. 

“You’re amazing, Nesryn. I’m so lucky to have you.” Pulling away, Nesryn saw a sheen of silver over his eyes. “I love you.” He looked at their son and pressed a kiss atop his head. “I love you both so much.” 

Nesryn sighed happily. “We love you, too.” Her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Sleep, my love,” Sartaq said, his voice quiet and honey covered comfort. “You deserve it.”

“Do me a favor, Sartaq?” She mumbled.

“Anything for you, Nesryn.”

“Tell Salkhi that we’ll be flying again within the week.”

Sartaq laughed and Nesryn felt the press of another kiss upon her brow. “As you wish.”

Hey, i just saw your nestaq fic from long long ago and absolutely love it!! May i request the continuation of that plss! Maybe a nestaq birth fic, tysmm

Hmmmm a continuation you say? 🤔😈

I think I can make that happen!

Let me get the next chapter of my madasaku fic up (which will hopefully be in 1-2 weeks) and then I can switch gears to nestaq and get something out a day or two after.

❤️ thanks for the request!

[sushisocks]

MORE MACSUMMER I BEG

I GOT YOU ANON!!!! Here's an assortment of MORE silly goofy headcanons about my favorite silly goofy couple <3

These bitches are COMPETITIVE!! Anything can be a race or a bet between them, to the detriment of EVERYONE else. A friendly rivalry over who between them can bring in the most for the camp isn't enough, they're also betting on whether or not Sean'll eat that fisheye Pearson just discarded, or whether Lenny can shotgun a can of soup before Sean counts to 20. A lot of their less-destructive dares are food-consumption-related, yes, how did you know?

They’ve almost broken their legs and arms several times over with the racing, though. They’ve been scruffed by Arthur about just as many times.

Yes, Lenny is a morosexual. Yes, being around Sean debuffs his impulse control. Part of the fun is that they’re always egging eachother on!!

Meanwhile Sean’s type is very much ‘down to earth, smart, with a fun streak’ and Lenny checks all the boxes. He likes the push-and-pull Lenny offers, as someone who’s unafraid to call Sean on his BS while also going along on the more lighthearted stuff.

(Granted, ‘lighthearted’ in this context may or may not include robbery and arson!)

The inside jokes are neverending; Sean can, like, hold up a spoon and waggle his eyebrows and that'll mean something that has Lenny in hysterics.

Sean might not be that inclined towards reading for himself, but he LOVES listening to Lenny's voice, and will often ask Lenny to read aloud. It doesn't matter if it's a news article, a children's story, or the driest factual book on the face of the planet; if Lenny is reading it to him, Sean will remember what he hears up until the moment he starts dozing off. If Lenny quits too early, Sean will wake right back up and demand he continues until he starts dozing again.

They’ve been stuck in that loop for hours before, but the clue is to let Sean fall asleep properly before Lenny can rest his voice - he’s a lot more willing to do this when he realizes it’s one of the only surefire ways for Sean to NOT have a nightmare <3

They are SO “We aren’t joined at the hip!!” *is actually joined at the hip* core, to me. Lenny will be like ‘I can go on this job on my own!😤’ and then come back and beeline towards Sean to tell him how it went. 

You know that one comic that’s like “I gotta pee” “Ok” and then they walk away hand in hand? Literally. They don’t even realize this is what they’re like!

They’re VERY good at keeping arguments or fights private; the gang only notices because those are the only times they’re not constantly around each other, beyond camp/gang duties. The fights never last long, and are never that serious - they're usually good and back to normal within a day or so.

Their most public fights are the ones they have when they’re drunk, and they only really consist of them fussing over each other. “Did you have any water, Len? I’ll grab you some water.” “Are you cold, Sean? Here, take this blanket” <- They’re both slurring, wobbling, and can’t see straight. The second one of them stands, the other is yelling at them to sit down bcz they’ll break a leg after two steps, so nothing actually gets done or fetched, unless it’s within arms reach (and that's usually more liquor). It’s a whole thing; they’re both of the mind that ‘No! You shouldn’t take care of me, you’re drunk, I’m taking care of YOU!’ and SURPRISE it’s like another competition where they can't let the other win. See Lenny grabbing Sean by the ankle while Sean's trying to drag himself towards the water canteen, and now they're yelling and wrestling in the dirt over it. It’s stupid but entertaining for anyone witnessing them, if nothing else <3

Sean has a tendency to get lost, and Lenny is usually the one who ends up looking for/finding him. Sometimes it’s not even that Sean is lost, just distracted, and Lenny will join him in whatever misadventure he’s found himself on. Other times that distraction means Lenny finding him in like a field 30 minutes from camp, and promptly laughing his ass off bcz Sean is high in a tree after pissing off a bull or smth.

[onepiece-polls]

I love your polls and it’s great you try to be on both sides to give fair chance to everyone, but the way you talked about shanks/buggy is crazy They’re fine together but in canon they’re brothers and your shipping googles got so tight you actually sounded like you could believe they’re anywhere close to canon which is u know stupid af

lmao, okay, this came out of nowhere 😂 Like... I talked about that months ago. But okay.

Anyway, Shuggy is canon. They're making out behind you right now.

[coffeeshib]

Hi! I’ve recently visited your page again, after a longer tumblr break and saw your posts about people’s comments on your fics. It made me both sad and angry. Sad because they’ve managed to take away your joy for writing Supercorp and angry that people feel like they can type out any hurtful thought that goes through their head, for a thing that is absolutely free and made with so much passion and care. 😒🤬

For what it’s worth, I always loved the way you write both of them. AND the fact that you don’t ignore Kara’s trauma and struggles. “i’m spilling all my words (but you keep 'em to yourself)” will forever be one of my favorites. Thank you for the hours of joy and fun you have given us! I hope you know that for every entitled commenter there are ten times more people who love your works! 🫵🏻🤘🏻

ahh thank you so much, i appreciate this. i have to say, sc still has me by the neck, i do plan to finish that fic & maybe write some more but it won't be anytime soon. i had hoped that the fandom would calm down with the kara hate after the show ended but i was wrong, it still hasn't changed.

when you've been writing for sc for so long, the frustration builds up, & there have been many times where i felt like i needed to (& did) restrict myself when writing them. it stops being enjoyable when people are constantly calling kara 'stupid' & insult her in many different ways for not being the happy sunshine kara danvers who takes care of lena all the time.

personally i love reading & writing the reverse situation (lena who's being the patient loving one & also the shoulder for kara to lean on) because the show didn't give us enough of that. unfortunately, people don't respond well whenever kara is struggling with her issues & lena isn't the one who's being comforted.

i write what i like & that's what i'm always going to do, but this build up of frustration over the past years & always anticipating kara hate every fic/chapter killed the joy a lot.

i've seen some authors speak about this too & it's genuinely sad to see! people can like & dislike whatever but it's important to note that there are readers out there who don't realize that their personal feelings against kara also affect authors & their love for writing supercorp

[danhoemei]

hi. random anon here to say that your posting convinced me to read little mushroom. I bought both physical volumes, they arrived a few days ago and I had some free time today. It's now 1 in the morning and I finished all of the first volume in mostly one sitting. I'll probably read the entire second volume tomorrow and if I'm not free I'll make myself free. Thank you for doing this to me and hope you have a great day.

Omgomgomgomg I'm so HAPPY to hear that 💚💚💚 Thank you for telling me, I'm rolling in delight :D little mushroom is so good i binged it in 2 evenings too agdhsggs I'm so happy you decided to read it and that you enjoy it 💚 thank u muah sending all the love

[generic-sonic-fan]

Now I know Shadow not thinking of Eggman as family is the more popular take. But may I present to you: Shadow treating him as the baby of the family.

Him preferring Robotinik tech

Him always referring to Robotinik as Doctor as a form of pride

Protective of him if he’s hurt or mentally unstable.

Him resenting characters saying he’s pure evil.

Ivo is treated as much as a weapon as Shadow is and Metal

Shadow having baby pictures and scavenging for childhood ones.

Just, Shadow Robotinik.

(First of all, if you haven't already, required reading for this post is Robotnik Family Reunion.)

I'm not sure I agree with your take 100% of the way, but I do love to explore the relationship between these two as being closer than most people headcanon. I don't think Shadow acts as the older of the two- they're cousins, if Shadow's counting himself as Maria's sister, which makes them roughly the "same" age. But I do think that they have a strange sort of familial relationship that neither of them can really quantify.

Shadow is someone who cares very deeply about family. Not in an overt, loving sense; almost more of steely obligation. Rouge asks why Shadow even bothers with Ivo and the only reply he has is "he's family". Shadow can't just forget and move on. He's a Robotnik. If something truly happened to Ivo, (especially a chronic illness!) Shadow would be there. There's no other option to even comprehend.

Shadow holds a sort of respect for him. Calling Ivo by "doctor" is the main manifestation of this. But that's not to say that they like each other. They disagree on some fundamental things. Ivo reminds Shadow too much of Gerald's latter years with his desire to conquer the world, and those scars are still too fresh to heal. But there's also an understanding that comes from that. Shadow knows what it's like to be so angry at the world that the only solution you can see is violence. Instead of merely conquering, he tried to destroy everything. Ivo, at least, operates under the pretense that he's making the world better, and that's something Shadow can almost agree with, if it weren't for the scientific and callous disregard for the well-being of others that Ivo brings along with it.

Shadow remembers what it was like to be "evil", and knows it's much more complicated than that. When Sonic and the rest of the gang get to calling Ivo "pure evil", it doesn't sit right.

. . . but then sometimes Ivo does something so colossally stupid or evil that Shadow loses patience and considers just killing the man. To avoid making the decision, he lets Sonic be the one to give the final blow to whatever robot Ivo has himself holed up in for the latest scheme, and looks the other way as Sonic lets him escape every time.

They definitely have periods where they're closer than others.

Sometimes, during the good periods, Ivo lets Shadow get ahold of some of the old family heirlooms. He's got lots of things from old houses that he's inherited as the rest of the Robotnik family dropped like flies over the years, things with little use to him, so he lets Shadow pick through the remains. The most valuable find so far has been a blue ribbon that Maria wore as a baby before the ARK, along with a picture of her parents. Ivo says this exchange of family property is to bribe Shadow from breaking in and erasing his access to the PROJECT: SHADOW files from the EggNet, but. . . let's be honest here, he wouldn't have to go as far as actually giving gifts this important and meaningful to Shadow to achieve that.

Shadow talks about all this with Rouge sometimes. Rouge has had some unsavory family members in the past, so she's able to give some advice. With Omega, though, the topic is probably the biggest strain in their friendship. Omega made up his mind about the whole "family" situation since day one: Ivo is not his "father", and he is not a Robotnik. Shadow has only once made the mistake of implying that he and Omega were cousins once-removed. It took him a week to heal the injuries and even longer for Omega to start speaking to him again.

(Sometimes Shadow, despite himself and despite everything, catches himself feeling a strange sort of gratitude that Ivo built Omega. He keeps this very, very private.)

So, yeah- Shadow Robotnik indeed (no matter how messy the title and all the emotions that come with it may be.) Thanks for sending this ask. I'm always in the mood to have my brain picked about these two.

[asteria7fics]

AHHHHH A MEGA PLAYLIST FOR US??? YOU SHOULDNT HAVE

-😨

Eeeehehehe anything for you guys!! My favorite goobers ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[akai-anna]

So I already asked this before, but here I am asking you to do it again cause I honestly really enjoy reading about how you view each of the relationships in decto. So if it's not too much to ask will you do a part 3 just rambling about other relationships in decto. Also I'm glad my last ask made you that happy, and don't worry take as long as you like there's no rush to make them.

Anon-san. Dear. Darling. You are truly a blessing, a pure source of joy, a beauty in this measly existence we call a life. I would have never thought you'd come back for more rambling. Just. Thank you. So much.

And I'm happy you enjoyed my previous ramblings, and I hope you will enjoy this one too.

Notes, as always:

as in the previous asks relating to the ship opinion bingo, i interpret relationships in the broadest possible sense

i check everything that makes sense to me, even if they seem contradictory; i view them applied to different situations/universes/possibilities

*rolls up sleeves* Ok, now buckle up.

I. Akai Shuuichi/Okiya Subaru - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan (and The Kudous)

The Silver Bullet Duo (and the Parents Partners In Crime)

They just... have such a fascinating dynamic.

Akai, first learning about this lil kiddo through investigating Vermouth (Cool Guy) and as they started interacting, treating this boy as an equal despite him (seemingly) being a child. The fact he is openly impressed by Conan/Shinichi ("You always amaze us, boy."); I cannot put into words how important it is to me that Akai respects this gremlin child. (ONE OF thE BESt INVEstigAtoRS IN JAPAN HE SAID!!!!) Shinichi Being all sus of the guy at first, only to find a great mind in him, an amazing scheming partner, someone he can trust to protect his friend. They are not only on the the same wavelength (not even being in the same place) but make a very effective as a team; the sheer compatibility.

But also their actual first meeting BEING: SHINICHI BASICALLY CALLING AKAI SHUUICHI A CLOWN. INCREDIBLE.

And also, Akai being one of the precious few who knows about this lil gremlins identity. It's so important to me; as someone who dearly wants and aches for Shinichi to share his identity with at least a few other people, I cherish all individuals who are aware of his true identity. Not to mention, that the identity reveal to Akai was one of the most hilarious things I have ever witnessed. (Shinichi literally outing himself because he is too comfortable, too at ease in his own home and around these people, and distracted by Ran and solving the mystery, he forgets to be cautious. THIS FCKIN CHILD I LOVE HIM.)

And Akai constantly hinting at his real identity gets me so bad too. They are so precious to me.

And then there is the whole Akai-Yukiko & Yuusaku dynamic too. He literally became part of this oddball of a family? (YUKIKO tAUGHt HIM to COOK I CANNOt???) FITTING IN WITH THEM SO EFFORTLESSLY. I LOVE THEM.

⊱✿⊰

II. Agasa Hiroshi - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Miyano Shiho/Haibara Ai (- Detective Boys Trio)

Found Family: "Sometimes a family is 1 middle-aged man, 2 fake and 3 real elementary students" as I like to say.

Not many scenes to share here (tho I will definitely collect them in my newest reread session) because I don't have the energy to look for them. BUT.

Agasa Hiroshi is a Good Man. He doesn't have to invent all that stuff for Shinichi BUT HE DOES. He doesn't have to help this lil gremlin out BUT HE STILL DOES. All the times he just drove him around, all the times he allowed himself to be used (with no advance notice which he keeps ASKING SHINICHI FOR, TO JUST LET HIM KNOW) as a way to solve a crime; EVERYTHING HE DOES, DESPITE KNOWING HOW DANGEROUS IT IS. The way he only helped Yukiko and Yuusaku with the mad plan (because IT IS MAD; ODDBALLS) of "kidnapping Edogawa Conan" because he thought it would help drive the point home, of how dangerous this whole business is. Agasa Hiroshi just wants what might be best and safest for Shinichi. Just being there for him, and if he cannot he lets others, who can, know (Yuusaku and Yukiko in the above scene, Heiji in desperate revival, and so on). He cares.

On the other side, Shinichi might seem like, he doesn't appreciate Prof Agasa much at first glance (his constant comments about Agasa creating junk, says the one who uses his inventions, HYPOCRITE), but god, he goes BALLISTIC WHEN IT COUNTS. (Kidnapping case, just to mention one off the top of my head.) Shinichi literally grew up with this weird adult figure around, he is like family to him, and he cares. Tons. He trusts Agasa Hiroshi, literally, with his life.

Moving on: another point of Prof being a really good man. The way he is with the kids. He literally goes out of his way, to take them out to places, spend time with them. Be it camping, or eating out, or invent stuff for them, cooking for them, or just getting a cake to eat together... He got attached to these kids (just like Shinichi himself) as they spent more and more time together, and cares a great deal about them. And the kids grew fond of him too, despite all the little comments and teasing. (Or as I see it: he is an adult figure to them that they are comfortable around, and are not afraid to say what they think.)

As for Ai. Exhibit C of Agasa Hiroshi being a really good, kind-hearted person.

Agasa Hiroshi picked up a girl that brings even more danger with her mere presence, and at this point she is not trustworthy. Who knows what she might do? But he took her in anyways. (Without talking to Shinichi too, which led to some Emotions and Yelling.) And as time went on, this girl, who constantly lives in fear of being discovered (fearing so much, that she even tries to let herself die, and considers leaving everyone behind to protect them), slowly crawls out of her shell, to just be a person. Ai and Agasa come to care about each other too, so deeply; there is no blood-relation between them, yet there is such a strong familial bond between the two. (People mistaking them as father and daughter!)

They are a weird lil family unit, your honour, and I care about them so. So. SO MUCH.

⊱✿⊰

III. Mouri Kogorou - Kudou Shinichi/Edogawa Conan - Mouri Ran

The Mouri Family Unit

I just love them. God. I do.

I love how Shinichi got integrated into Kogorou and Ran's everyday life (be it cleaning, or just checking he's there and didn't run off again LOL). I love the rare moments of Kogorou actually being parental, be it to the lil gremlin or Ran. (HE LOVES BOTH OF THEM YOUR HONOUR!!!

I adore the fact that they watch stuff together, and discuss it, I find it really sweet (and funny). Also the fact that they eat together. Eating together with loved ones is a very important point in my own life, and it's a really... "intimate" is not quite the word I'm looking for but... I guess a bonding thing. Something meaningful. And these 3 definitely do it most days. The way they are so comfortable around each other, and everyone has their own lil space at the table. I really adore the thought of Shinichi getting so used to the lil routines and bustle of the Mouri Household, that after he turns back, he'll miss it. Especially, how he was living alone for years before the Conanification, without his parents; the Mouris are such a strong contrast against that. (Post-Conan Shinichi, that moves back to the Kudou House, and finds it too big and quiet and lonely, just going over to Agasa's and the Mouris' all the time to be around his loved ones. Him spending most of his time at their places, so much, his stuff is slowly moved into both places. And No One says a thing about it, it just happens, and they all let it happen. Please. I'm WEAK.)

I also love to see them in various combinations: Ran-Shinichi teaming up against Occhan, but also Ran and Kogorou constantly being "WHERE IS THE CHILD" in their own ways, and Shinichi and Kogorou team up too (like the time they tailed Ran, or when Ran told them Araide will be in the play too, HAHA). Each is so very delightful for their own reasons.

Thank you so much for asking me (AGAIN!!!!) to talk about relationships, it means a lot tome, and I truly hope you enjoyed reading these! May you have a blessed day, darling.

[banannabethchase]

No. 11 and the letter h for the prompt set?? With ClaudioNick?? Please???

(Hakfekfekfw when u forget the main thing you need to send kefkgwj)

Sharks in a Cage

So fun fact, I started writing this a few days ago and then my computer went kaput and I lost all of it. Attempt number 2! I went an...unexpected way to interpret the prompt. I hope that's alright!

Dialogue 11: “I’m tired, but I’m not that tired.” Scenario H:  Snowed in on a group trip oops now just two of us are stuck here another night

~

Nick yawns as he kicks at the door of the cage. The metal shudders as he looks down at the rest of his team and the BCC already in the rings. Claudio's eyes bore into him, and Nick is determined not to let it show that he's noticed. Nick yawns again as he glances across at the other shark cages, now almost all empty, hanging above the rings.

"Sleepy, Buck?" Claudio asks, hands gripping the bars of the cage. "Good. I can take you out first."

Nick scoffs. "Please. I'm tired, but not that tired. Jet lag and all that."

They bicker back and forth for a few minutes, until Matt and Yuta's alarms go off and the two of them charge each other once they climb their ladders down into the cage.

"Why did they add the shark cages this year, do you think?" Claudio asks, fiddling with the waistband of his pants. Nick intentionally doesn't look. "Gives additional drama?"

"I think it's to make sure none of us commit a crime where there's no cameras," Nick suggests. "Hey, I got an idea." He begins rocking back and forth, creating a bit of swing. "See? Now we can do something while we're stuck up here."

Claudio pales, just enough for Nick to notice. "I - I would rather not, thank you."

Nick grins. "What, you're not afraid of heights, are you?"

"Absolutely not!" Claudio retorts. "That would be Mox's territory. I'm more...I'm wary of swinging in poorly made metal machines above concrete."

"Oh, that's afraid of heights." Nick quickly assesses the bars of the cage and deems them appropriate. He climbs up so he can slide his legs around the ceiling bars, then falls so he can look at Claudio upside down. He's always felt at home here, like hanging on the monkey bars in elementary school while waiting for Matt's class to get let out. "This freak you out?"

"No. You're upside down, not me."

Nick wiggles his eyebrows. "Only 10 seconds before the doors open again. What if I slip?" He pretends to lose his grip, and laughs as he sees Claudio's normally stoic face shift to panic for the briefest second.

"This feels like sabotage," Claudio grumbles. He's so focused on Nick that he jumps a little when the horn sounds to unlock the door and allow them to climb down the ladder into the rings.

"Yeah?" Nick asks. He swings his body so he flips, landing on his feet. "This is Blood and Guts, baby." He winks, hand on the knob. "Get used to it."

[landfilloftrash]

so i followed you for your ace attorney art, and then one day i saw you post les misérables art and was like "what does this mean" and then you kept doing it and i want to understand the context so guess what FUCKING BOOK I'M BUYING

i blame this on you (/positive) (i'm probably gonna enjoy this)

JESUS CHRIST

Holy fuck anon, you have made my fucking week /so. SO extremely jovial and affectionate.

Like-- I like to call myself a pied piper but its usually exclusively because my friends have to deal with me rambling 24/7 and get into whatever I'm talking about! I even joked earlier in the week that I should tooootally draw something with Edgeworth and Javert to pull some Ace Attorney fans into Les Mis. Oh how the monkeys paw has curled a finger for me. /jov

To hear that a stranger from the internet, who LIKES MY ART, is picking up LES MISÉRABLES. BECAUSE OF MY ART. Is one, fucking astounding, two, absolutely heart warming, three I feel like I need to draw something just for you man, so feel free to message me privately or ask on anon again for something (Les Mis related or Ace Attorney or what-fuckin-ever; treat for you.)

[cephalololopod]

Congrats on 20 followers!! If possible I would love a little drabble or doodle of Mensis Scholar Damian my friend Mensis Scholar Damian... he always gets relegated to the background and hes my littleguy :> uhhh for a prompt maybe just what he's thinking/doing when he takes so long to follow you into a boss room or refuses to follow you up ladders (unless you have a better idea) LMAO

also sorry i'm on anon i promise i'm a follower im just shy :<

Thank you so much!!

I wasn't too familiar with Damian past his name and appearance, so I looked him up, and goodness, he really doesn't get much love... But we will change that today! I'm not the best at art, but here is a little doodle, just for you, anon. ♡

(He's a nerd, not a hunter. Let him rest.)

Also, have a short drabble:

There had been many a hunter crashing through the gates of Byrgenwerth over the years to scavenge for the same secrets that other desperate scholars had been after, including himself. So many lost and forsaken souls, and yet this hunter was not one of them. Damian had watched this hunter sprint from the gardens of eyes, dodge around centipedes, and for all intents and purposes, blunder their way through the halls of Byrgenwerth. If he had not stepped in to offer his help with the Kin hiding in the lake, he really doubted this hunter would have survived, especially if the vice-like hug they gave him afterwards was anything to go by.

And most certainly, Damian did not expect to see the hunter again elsewhere. Yet here they were again, this time in the Upper Cathedral Ward. Trying to pick up celestial children and carry them off the cobblestone path.

(He would be lying if he said he didn't find it amusing how they kept passing out and disappearing from such a foolhardy endeavor, only to be back twenty or thirty minutes later to do the same thing.)

Eventually, however, the hunter spotted him, trotting over excitedly. To be so thrilled to see him... It was very rare indeed. The hunter was tripping over their own words in excitement to tell him about yet another large creature they found. Another Kin? Or perhaps something more... Their ignorance of it all made him smile, agreeing to their request for help despite his better judgement.

Well. What exactly did Damian have to lose at this point anyways? He could allow himself some fun.

[ohnomytummy]

scenario time!

what would you do if you were in a quiet library and suddenly you heard a clearly upset tummy gurgle followed by a sickly burp.. you turn to your right and you see the chubby cutie from your class with a pained look on their face suddenly.. not a second goes by and you see them speed walking to the restroom with one hand on their stomach and one on their mouth.. do you follow them?

either by some miracle, there’s only public restrooms and you can follow them to the bathroom and listen in closely without making them aware of your presence. they think it’s safe to start to blow from both ends..

OR

there’s only gender neutral bathrooms but the walls between the restrooms are quite thin and you’re able to hear every single sound that comes from the explosion bound to happen..

would you follow them out afterward? offer assistance?

feel free to be wholesome or dirty 🤭

In life…gosh I wish I would follow them.

The gender neutral bathroom scenario has my mind ticking. I’d quietly watch them desperately rush into their chosen room and slam the door. After a moment…and a lot of blushing and flustered agony…I’d go into the one directly next to them, sit on the floor with my ear pressed against the wall, and listen to what’s got their tummy all in a fit.

I don’t think I’d have the courage to knock and see if they needed help….hearing them gag and spit and moan through the wall would be all my horny embarrassed self would let me do. I’d listen to them, waiting for the next big moment when they sickly groan to no one that they’re gonna let loose again. Be sick again. Let everything go…again.

Fuck, Why did I go to the library after those two burritos? Oh god it burns…hnnng ooohhh this always happens.

I’d lean against the wall and shamefully unzip my pants while biting my lip, slipping my hand under my briefs, stroking myself while they go through tummy hell in the other room. It wouldn’t take long for their constant struggles (and location of my urge) to push me over the edge. God the thought of how fast 😳 embarrassing honestly hehe.

I’d stay in the bathroom, listening and pleasuring myself until I heard their sink go on and off and their door open and shut. When I walk out, I catch a glimpse of them packing their bag to quickly leave. My whole body starts to shake thinking of my dirty, foul choices, so when we catch eyes, I don’t have the mind to look away.

But neither do they.

Before they walk away, they grin, nod towards the door, and move a hand under their shirt, onto the exhausted, tight skin of their belly.

Of course I’d be able to follow them then….