#meronia fanfic

[uriekukistan]

fics for gaza 🍉 UPDATED POST

hi everyone! i'll be participating in the fundraising initiative led by @ficsforgaza! for more information on how to participate as reader, or as a writer, you can visit this post!

how it works: in exchange for donations to vetted fundraisers, i will write at a rate of 100 words per $1. as a reader, you can either choose to "sponsor" one of my current wips/ideas, or you can make a request! more info on my wips & making requests below the cut.

even if you aren't interested in sponsoring my writing, please consider donating to one of the fundraisers anyway, if you're financially able!

total raised: $46

reblogs appreciated!

sponsored wips ❀

step one: donate to a vetted fundraiser and screenshot your proof of donation and block out any personal information

step two: send me an ask with your proof of donation and which wip(s) you would like to sponsor. word counts will be kept updated as i receive sponsorships.

summer lovin' (Jujutsu Kaisen, Itafushi - Yuuji x Megumi & Inuokko - Yuuta x Inumaki, Beach AU, Fluff & Light Angst) : Boyfriends Yuuta and Toge set up their friends Megumi and Yuuji after watching them pine for each other. 1/10 parts sponsored, about 2500-3000 words a part

untitled touka birthday one-shot (Tokyo Ghoul, background Touken - Touka x Kaneki, Fluff & Light Angst) : Touka celebrates her birthday and feels the first semblances of home since the Anteiku Raid where everything went wrong. 0/1500 sponsored

untitled Yuuji POV one-shot of Dancing With a Stranger (Jujutsu Kaisen, Itafushi - Yuuji x Megumi, College/Dancers AU, Fluff & Light Angst) : Yuuji has a huge crush on Megumi, but the green-eyed ballerina doesn't seem to like him much... 0/7000 sponsored

requests ❀

step one: please read my rules and propose your request to me via dm first (i don't bite)! i haven't done requests since (checks notes) 2015, so i'm still not sure what i'm comfortable writing for others 😅

step two: once i've accepted your request, please send proof of donation for me to start writing! i will try to have your request done within a week, but life does happen, so please be patient with me 🙏

request rules

i write for jujutsu kaisen, tokyo ghoul, and death note.

i will write ships, character studies, or any general story you have in mind. i do not write x reader fics at this time.

i will not write anything nsfw, nor will i write any adult/minor or incest ships.

i will write heavier topics, such as mental illness, addiction, violence, toxic relationships, etc, but i will not be romanticizing them. these are serious issues and i will treat them as such, and do my best to portray them realistically.

if you have any questions about what i will or will not write, please feel free to send an ask or a dm!

[itwillbelonelywontit]

have you ever wondered what would've happened if near and mello met during the time skip? wanted a look into mello's psyche? just enjoy gunplay and incest? check out compulsion live on ao3!

[delilahhyuuga]

"His stomach twisted into tense, nauseous knots within his center as he watched the corner of her upturned lips… One quick twitch downward of the muscles, a momentary slip of the smile from its previous immaculately fastened position… Just enough of a break in her façade to reveal everything to Mello before she could even mutter even a single word.

The world moved in slow motion as she reached for a paper held in a bundle in her folded arms, placing it face up on his desk. Penned on the top right corner of his page using the same deep, steel gray ink and circled so dramatically that no eye would be able to miss it was the damning number: 97

Three points short of a victory…

An entire universe short of perfection…"

(From Chasing Hues - Chapter 1 - @forbiddensoul562)

[saccharinecoffee]

In Harmless Indulgence | Meronia

Pairing ◈ Mello/Near

Word count ◈ 1,569

Info & Warnings ◈ Post-canon, Autistic Near, Mello POV, Mutual Pining

Author's notes ◈ Written for this year's @meroniaevent! The prompt I chose was "scars."

Read on Ao3

Mello treats his scars while contemplating Near's own.

The room was dim and cosy. The gel cold, as it touched his marred skin.

Near eyed him across the breakroom’s kitchenette, eating some child’s excuse for a meal like plain rice and tuna, or chicken nuggets with ketchup. He wasn’t even facing Mello, head lowered to better eat his gruel. He looked over at him through his lashes, right under his brow bone. It made him look angry when he did so. Perhaps he was, Mello was never certain.

“Don’t like me oiling up on your couch?” Mello asked, raising a brow. He felt like lounging back on the couch he sat on for the sole purpose of riling him up, pressing his naked torso lathered in product all over the soft, no doubt expensive seating. He resisted the temptation with effort; small victories of the daily inner struggle, he supposed.

Near looked down to his food, breaking eye contact in haste.

“It’s not my couch.”

He laughed in disbelief.

“Sure. It’s the office’s state sponsored couch. The office you’re in charge of. Your office.”

He kept rubbing the cool ointment onto his shoulder absentmindedly, fingers running over every ridge and valley until the dry, sore feeling dissipated.

Near looked up at him once more, the corners of his lips twisting minutely into something of a frown. It made Mello want to roll his eyes before the answer even spilled from his lips.

“To answer your question,” he said softly, “no, it does not bother me.”

“Then why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

He dipped his fingers into the tub of gel and lathered it closer to his neck this time, over his collarbone and up his throat. He winced, but continued. Two rounds of fire to the skin were bound to make the scars more tender. Mello’s great reward for a selfless fucking deed. Wasn’t he so damn lucky?

“There’s nothing else to look at,” he said simply. Mello wasn’t sure why, but something about it felt like an awkward fib. Near wasn’t a fibber, though.

“I’m entertainment, then?” His lips quirked up in a smile, one he didn’t bother reaching his eyes.

Near stared at him unmoving for a couple of seconds. No chewing, no poking at his food. Very eerie, but also very Near.

“Sure,” he said simply before lowering his gaze once more to gather his food and thrust it into his mouth gingerly.

In silence, Mello continued his routine, regarding Near carefully as he sat so comfortably on one of the lounge’s dining chairs. When he joined their operation a couple of months back, he found Near had gotten real good ones, the more expensive types with soft pillowy seats that wouldn’t chafe or catch his sensitive skin. Mello had only ever covered his body in leather and polyester, so it didn’t touch him sideways, but as the weather warmed, Near began showing more skin. At first, he simply rolled his sleeves, but then changed to a cotton white t-shirt. Now though, deep into July, and nearing August, Near wouldn’t leave his room without a pair of cotton white pyjama shorts. They were short, too, barely covering half his pale thighs.

Mello never stopped himself from staring. It was a free show, after all.

His skin, so milky white, was pinker at the knees. The shade was bright and cool against the gentle slope of his thigh, illuminated by the harsh white lights he loved so much. They left little to the imagination, painting his flesh in all its naked truth where shade might have covered imperfections.

Mello knew where to find it, he always did. It was his doing, the one slash he’d never forget in intricate detail.

Right beneath where his shorts ended, near the inside of his thigh where his muscles clenched and relaxed in the midst of his less than edible meal, was a thin, red line.

It was Mello’s doing, all of ten years prior, an accident he henceforth always referred to as a warning, as to keep Near at arm’s length. Today, it was a souvenir of times they’d never get back, but also of a connection they’d never shake.

Round and round in circles they went, Mello pushing and pulling Near in all directions with explosive anger, as Near pushed and pulled harder in response, quiet and still as night. At the end of their dance, Mello ended up maimed beyond repair, but it did lead to a different fight that had always lingered beneath the surface.

Near was eyeing him again, just as focused on him as Mello had been on Near. He’d been enjoying their routine as of late, of the quiet company they shared after dinner as he mended his burn wounds. Near watched attentively as his fingers dipped and rose across his torso, down his chest and over his abdomen. His skin was too red, too textured and dark to resemble that of a desirable man, but he soaked up the attention greedily nonetheless. Who was he to deny himself that innocent pleasure when he did so much worse?

During these times of peace, as he watched the thin red line he’d cut years prior, he’d imagine himself between them. He wondered what it felt like, most of all. Was it bumpy like his own skin? Or was it as imperceptible to the touch as it was subtle to the eye?

Would he feel that difference if he traced it over with his tongue? And if he did so, what would he taste like? His body looked silky-soft to the touch, the whole expanse of skin and not just the scar. Were he between his legs he’d lay his hands on him and decipher this puzzle on his own. With thumbs digging into his softer inner thigh and fingers travelling over the tops and sides, he’d be able to make a keen assessment, of that he was sure.

Mello soon finished soothing the last few patches of sore skin, closing the lid of the gel container and putting a long sleeved cotton t-shirt on to protect the treatment. It had a fine texture, soft like the one in Near’s preferred wardrobe. As he got up and neared the kitchenette, he wondered what Near would look like in it. It was a faded black shade with bold, sharp lettering at the front, the complete opposite of the stark white he favoured. It could look good, enhancing the brittle pale of his skin. Perhaps it would even fall below his hips and cover the very tops of his thighs, legs in full display, taunting despite its innocence.

He opened the fridge and made a sandwich with whatever leftovers he could find and sat beside Near, avoiding his eyes all the while. They finished their meals in silence after some time, a brief respite they both needed after the usual hectic day. Arguing and bouncing ideas off each other in the office was the norm as of late as they worked cases together, at first keeping mostly to themselves as they reacclimatised to the other’s presence, and later warming up as they found a rhythm in the chaos. They were slowly turning into a well oiled machine, slowly being the key word, but the results were self-evident.

He glanced down to where Near sat, finishing his– Ah, so it was mashed potatoes and sausages, it seemed. Close enough. Lower at his lap though, he peeked at his thighs.

“If you ever, hum,” he hesitated, so unlike himself as he tried to bridge a gap that felt like water under his feet. “If you ever wanna spice up your wardrobe with a little colour, I’m your guy.”

Near hummed, scraping his plate for the last few bits of smeared mash left meekly.

“You know I like white.”

Mello cursed himself internally. And then he cursed Near twice as hard.

“Yes,” he said, mildly aggravated. “But it could be… Fun, I suppose. You don’t seem to have much of that around here, anyways.”

Near was quiet for a moment, leaving Mello’s nerves buzzing as his leg bounced anxiously.

“I would have to be cotton,” he said as he turned to face him. “And it has to be washed at high temperatures, with scentless fabric softener.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mello looked at him in confusion. “You think I didn’t think of that?”

“Yes.” His grey eyes wide and unblinking.

“Well you should know better,” he forced his voice into a harsh tone, as though it were an annoyance from how obvious it all was, how his deliberate, near-obsessive observations were nothing if not a part of normality. “Your idiosyncrasies are so bloody annoying they’re hard to even forget.”

Near looked at him intently, eyes and pupils minutely wider than usual. Observing, dissecting, analysing quietly, his most prominent MO.

“Sure,” he finally said, but not before giving Mello a poorly disguised once-over. “But no black.”

He twisted his mouth, displeased, but nodded anyways, making room for compromise.

“No black,” he echoed.

“I need to ease into it,” Near added, glancing somewhat bashfully at him behind his white tuft of hair. “It would be too jarring a transition for now… But I’m not against it.”

Mello licked his lips, taking in a greedy gulp of air and nodding, brows and frown set despite the great pleasure of getting his way.

“Yeah, alright,” he postured. “I can deal with that.”

◈ ◈ ◈ ◈ ◈

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider sharing and checking out my other works!

Tip jar☕

[paradoxosz]

Damn, I just love this story. It is deeply emotional and introspective, being in second person, a less common style of narration, and I would like to share how much I LOVED this (and it is almost a crime that the author is not recognized ).The story is dense and emotionally charged, exploring Near's pain and obsession over the loss of Mello. It describes Near's inability to accept Mello's death and his compulsion to recreate him. (using crafts that Near used canonically, this part is also soooo good).

And that. Just wanted to share. Bye bye 🫶

[meroniaevent]

Day 2 (Мерониа) - 「femMeronia part 2」

Part 1 can be found here: 「 femMeronia part 1」

Author (Twitter user): @/vechnovmusike (Shared with permission) Prompt: Heaven, Language

Legend says it, the wish will be granted when you least expect it. For some reason, lying in the private luxurious room in hospital after surviving fire and avoiding heart attack by miracle, Mello thinks about it.

She was lucky that Takada Kiyomi couldn't write her name right. Heavens know what would happen if she managed to do that, probably, Mello would die. She didn't want to: dying without seeing Kira disarmed and defeated wasn't in her plans. She knew that it might happen but she is grateful that it didn't. Matt, she is sure, thinks the same. He lies in another private hospital room recovering after twenty four bullets went through him. Well, technically, only seven or so: Near insisted on bulletproof vest under Matt's clothes.

Near's mind and money are saving them once again and Mello doesn't like the slight, warm gratitude that she feels thinking about her rival. Nothing to be ashamed of, after all, they both knew that without collaboration they wouldn't excel. Be bigger than L.

Still, old habits die slow — Mello could do better. She doesn't want Near to be her personal guardian angel as if she was not capable of doing all of this herself. Near saved her life by taking action, Mello doesn't want to owe her any favours. Still, she owes.

"What are you going to do now?" Near asks looking at the opened door of the warehouse. She never looks at Mello when speaking and Keehl doesn't know why. Now it's clear, she has an ugly scar halfway down her face, but at Wammy House Near never looked at her as well.

Somehow Mello still wants her to look, watch with those grey eyes that seem apathetic and almost dead but hide so much more under the iris that it feels like an ancient puzzle worth to solve. Mello never gets a chance to solve it. "I don't know", honest answer.

"Neither do I", sudden respond with the same level of honesty. After succeeding as L's successors and defeating Kira, what should they do? Solve cases, like L did? It doesn't feel so grand after what they've done, what they've sacrificed for achieving the Main Goal.

Mysterious and creepy fairy asked for less in exchange for a life-changing wish than Wammy's system required from them for the dream that was programmed into their heads with with fierce persistence. "But I would like to have you in my team."

Mello catches a quick glance from Near and curses herself for feeling happy about it, for her heart skipping a beat. "I think we could do a lot together. The possibility of it is thirty-nine percent." Mello rolls her eyes: Near's habit to measure everything in percent never fails to annoy her. Why being so automatic and so cold?

Because it's Near's love language, Mello suddenly realises, finally cracking the part of the code presented in front of her in human form. Wammy House taught them analytics, statistics, critical thinking, they had to teach emotions and relationships themselves. Near was never good in this, though yet had an inexplicable charisma that lent itself to people she didn't need to be close to: the SPK, the FBI, and the rest. What to do with friendship, L's first successor never learned.

"Sounds okay to me". Exhausted after years of fighting and achieving something, Mello surrenders easily not wanting to continue the battle forced upon them by ambitious greedy spiders, known as Roger and Watari. Well, maybe only Roger, she didn't know much about Watari anyway.

Near raises her hand, apparently wanting to start fidgeting with her hair like she always does, but changes the direction and changes trajectory and instead touches Mello's hand with her fingertips, the very middle of her palm. The touch is light and... shy?

Near wants to feel somebody next to her, Mello realises once again and gently squishes thin fingers. Near could be a fairy with such graceful hands. A fairy said "some luck and no burden to carry one your shoulders". Did she mean all of that?

Being alive, survive, standing next to Near who finally doesn't feel like a machine in human's skin but a human being on her own, with feeling and the same inner void as Mello's? Understanding her? "You know, I asked for a wish." Near nods without a doubt. "Was it granted?" "I don't know. But I feel like it was." After all, the languages they speak are the same: hints, innuendos, and riddles. Only now they understand each other pretty well. THE END.

[empressofthewind]

btw one thing i have noticed since entering the meronia fandom is that there's a real lack of completed longfics (specifically talking 50k+ words here). i don't know if this is just because most of them are on sites other than ao3/got lost in the fanfiction purges way back when, or if this is actually just how it is - but it feels like such a shame to me given how well meronia lends itself to complex & fleshed-out ideas

[veresghost]

a late submission for @nearsbday day 7 - the devil <3

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

[paradisepoisoned]

It's my birthday, and I'm feeling a type of way rn so here's another little rough snippet from The Ecstasy of Our Virgin Mother Saint Mandy that hopefully won't take me another 87 months to complete💀

[thegreendungeon]

[wammyshousesideblog]

Happy Birthday, Mello! As promised, I created a DN sideblog for this purpose, I'm posting fanart inspired by a meronia fic- False Spring by Moontyger (aka by my favorite part from the fic, which imo perfectly describes Mello, or at the very least the way I see him):

Here's the paragraph(multiple paragraphs):

[itwillbelonelywontit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage Relationships: Mello | Mihael Keehl/Near | Nate River Additional Tags: Hand Jobs, Gun Kink, Angst, Mello | Mihael Keehl & Near | Nate River are Siblings, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Brother/Brother Incest, POV Mello | Mihael Keehl, Mello | Mihael Keehl Has Issues, (obsessed with that being a tag), Praise Kink, Mello | Mihael Keehl Has A Praise Kink, Dubious Consent, Submissive Mello | Mihael Keehl, but he's angry about it, Dominant Near | Nate River, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, they are both so horrible at feelings and communication, im not saying its snuff kink but mello does beg near to kill him to get off 

Roughly a year ago, Mello left Wammy's House without a trace. He obeys a letter telling him to meet at a hotel in the middle of nowhere against his better judgement.

He knows how much of a risk it was for Near to use his own handwriting.

____________________

A oneshot taking place during the five year time skip.

should I technically be waiting until the creator reveal to advertisement? yes. but you all know who I have already. a gift for @sword-dad-fukuzawa <3

[craetor]

Toothrot.

[imninakk]

fairytale

for meronia event!

I remembered a fic I read years ago, I went after it to have more memories of the story but unfortunately the spirit fanfic is horrible... ANYWAY, the idea was of a mello elf prince and Near a basic human, and they were getting to know each other and Mello was angry with humans and Misa was his cousin and L was a wizard and Light was a bastard (obviously)

:3

[blondiest]

Why are your fanfics popular?

hdgdgfh can't tell whether to be flattered or offended by this question but yk i just woke up coughing bc nyquil is a SCAMMMMM & am having a little midnight yogurt so lemme engage with this fr for a moment before i go back to sleep. i don't know whether you're referring to my blondiest AO3 or my neallo one so i'll speculate on both.

with blondiest, i think one of the biggest reasons VML got ‘popular’ was timing. the ship was young, the concept was very novel at the time, and my beautiful cowriter helped me immensely with smoothing out dialogue and awkward phrasing since i'd only been writing for about a year at that point. so, basically, low supply high demand. it's probably more or less same story for my other hellcheer fics.

as for the neallo account, idrk if i would describe my writing as popular so much as difficult to avoid if you're reading meronia on AO3. IIRC i wrote somewhere between 20 and 30 % of the fics posted for the ship in 2023. this is not me trying to flex (if i wanted to flex i would do it about something other than second tier early 2000s yaoi) it is just an effect of A) absolutely debilitating brain worms about theym and B) the fact that the ship was a lot smaller for most of last year. i am proud of what i have written, i think most of it is solid, but i would be remiss to not acknowledge the effect of sheer volume / never shutting the fuck up.

i hope this answers your question i genuinely cannot tell if it's meant to be sincere or passive aggressive but i would like to assume nicey intent so i am choosing to be flattered now. okay i need to sleep again immediately or i'll blow up.

[meroniaevent]

Day 1 (Мерониа)

Meronia Event - Day 1 (Мерониа) 「 femMeronia part 1」 Author (Twitter user): @/vechnovmusike (Shared with permission) Prompt: Fairy tale, Sacrifice

"Legend says it, far-far away lives a fairy who can grant you one wish in exchange of something she will take from you. Mello has heard this legend so many times, it doesn't let her sleep, scratching the brain from the inside.

She has a lot of wishes. Dreams, even. And one burning obsession with the place she wants to take but never can approach even for a moment. Being L's successor requires certain skills she lacks. "I could ask to become better", Mello thinks riding a bike to the forest nearby the Wammy House. The bike's tires rustle along the road, singing along with the spokes on the wheels with their snapping sound. "I could do this but I won't because it won't be the same". She has to choose something very precious to her, something that is worth sacrificing her belongings or voice or whatever this fairy would want from her. Money isn't an option: she can easily earn them as she does for two years now. Fame? She will be famous when L's title will be hers. What to choose? What to wish for?

Suddenly it's not so easy as it looked when she decided to try and find that fairy. All the wishes, big and small, have disappeared completely, vanished into oblivion... All because of Near! Mello almost slipped on on of her puzzles sneaking to exit of the orphanage, nearly fell down! But Near, oh, she didn't even turn her little curly head in that direction, building the card palace, one of the kind, still the one and only thing that was interesting for her that moment. Mello scoffs, shakes her head getting rid of the memory and stops the bike looking at the forest in front of her. The trees don't look dark or creepy or particularly scary, they're lighted with warm orange sunlight but Mello feels shiver going down her spine. She's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Given that she falls behind Near's scores only for five-six points, the second option is not very logic. Yet, going into the forest alone... Without having any particular wish to wish... "Okay", she says it out loud to collect more bravery, "let's go. It's not that hard."

The forest doesn't respond, only the wind moves the leaves. Legend says it, when you find a fairy's lair, you will know it. Somebody sees the bright light, somebody suddenly feels happy and peaceful, somebody hears the song lost from the memory long time ago.

At first, Mello doesn't feel anything. The forest looks empty, just birds singing reminds her that this calm landscape is an illusion and somewhere wild animals are wandering or maybe something even worse. If fairies exist, why wouldn't something more dangerous exist?

It was a stupid idea. Completely stupid, not brave. She should probably go back before it gets dark and Roger starts interrogating everybody where second successor went... Between two furthest trees she suddenly sees something familiar. White hair, white clothes...

Only for a second, then the whiteness disappear in the bushes but she could recognise Near anywhere and doesn't doubt for a moment. "Hey! Hey, stop!" Mello runs after the distant silhouette leaving the bike. "N! Stop, you motherfucker!" Near doesn't stop.

Mello fights off the branches, runs as fast as she can, as fast as she has never ever run. Must pursue. Catch. Cage white colour in her hands, only then... Only then what? She looks around, not recognising the place. How much did she run?

"Interesting..." voice like bells rings in the air, followed by a laugh. "I have seen many things, many humans, but your way of finding me is rather... extraordinary". A fairy, small and crowned with flowers, flies down before Mello's face, looking at her with interest.

"You could be a very nice tiger." The phrase sounds out of place: where in England has the fairy seen a wild tiger? Mello blinks, not believing her eyes though already feeling — this is it! The chance to wish for something and she still doesn't know what to wish for.

She looks around one more time noticing that trees look very blurry as if she was not in the reality but somewhere else, god knows where. Did she cross a interworld border or something? How does it work? And where... "Where is Near?" she asks before she can think.

The fairy smiles widely, seemingly amused with the question. "Oh, dear. Near's at the place you, humans, can call home. But I find your main man very unpleasant and wouldn't call your orphanage "home" if I were you." Mello clicks her tongue, annoyed. "As if I had another one."

"Do you want to have one?" That's one of her wishes. She has dreamt so much about a place she can feel safe, herself, have people around her that love her no matter what... But now for whatever reason, it doesn't feel like a wish she'd ask for to be granted.

"I see", the fairy nods understandingly and taps her chin with her small, long fingers, looking like sticks or very thin needles. "I see one wish in your heart, very deep. So deep even you don't get to know what it is about." "And what do I have to give you for it? If I don't know what it is, why would I give something to you?" Scepticism in Mello's voice only makes the fairy laugh. "Because this wish can turn your life for better. Not right now, though." The eyes with sparks of sadness make Mello uncomfortable.

She doesn't like the feeling that this fairy knows about her life more than she does. "But somewhere in the future you could use some luck and finally live without the burden you carry on your shoulders, what do you think?" Sounds enticing. Promising even.

"What will you take from me?" Mello insists. "Nothing more than a stride of your hair. They look very cozy", the fairy smiles. Not expecting such a simple thing, Mello frowns, brushing her hair with her fingers. A wish that could change her life costs too cheap.

"Oh, don't look so suspicious. You human don't know the value of your hair to fairies." Fair enough. Mello scoffs, takes the dagger the fairy holds out to her and cuts off a lock of hair. The fairy seems too happy. Almost uncannily happy. Shit. Did she make a mistake?

"Go home now, your wish will be granted", the fairy sings, already starting to weave something that looks like a sweater out of Mello's cut hair, and and waves her hand gracefully. Mello feels the blurred trees begin to twist around in some kind of frenzied dance, and blinking, she notices the bicycle that had been abandoned earlier beside her. There is no fairy, nothing else, only the short hair in the place of the severed strand reminds her of the reality of what happened. "I hope that was worth it", Mello grumbles and rides back to Wammy House.

TBC