#primo gen

[13288630]

"The human body has a certain limit.

Deny it all the way you species want, but the truth is, the human body has a limit. Cross that limit and you will die.

Literally, bluntly, no ambivalence, no hidden meanings. You will die.

Why do you think Signore Vongola is only allowed to use one stone, even though his flame can, in theory, "harmonize" and activate all the other stones?

The human body has a limit, and when exposed to Trinisette, that limit is immediately exceeded.

For creatures of the Sky Flame spectrum, when exposed to Trinisette's energy source, their energy will immediately receive a huge source of external force, and that external force will quickly fuse with their own energy source. The shortest recorded time to complete the fusion was 5 seconds and 12 ticks.

Imagine you pour a pot of boiling water into a glass of cold water - the cold water will also quickly boil and destroy the glass..."

"Please..."

"I'm listening."

"D... Don't let anyone... see..."

"I have to decline your request. It is Segreti's mission to document. Additionally, you are the first Earth spectrum creature to be affected by Trinisette energy in this way. I don't know how long it will be before another Earth creature, in the parlance of your species, "recklessly" approached Trinisette as directly as you. Thus, I have to record how the energy transformed and destroyed you from the inside."

"..."

"..."

"..."

“However, since you are a very rare subject, according to the rules of human decency, I should express my gratitude.

Records of your death will be kept confidential.

Now think about that statement when I say it out loud, you'll think I'm doing this to protect Trinisette. Since I belong to the same species as Kawahira and Sepira di Giglo Nero, you would think it was natural for me to keep the secret of the Trinisette energy hidden.

Your thinking is completely reasonable.

So, to express my gratitude, I will try to clean up your body - it will be a difficult task, but you will look like you are sleeping. No one will know anything.

Of course there will be doubts as to why your body stopped working so abruptly, but please rest assured.

I swear on Segreti's name that no one will know about your last moments, Simon Primo.

Therefore...

Rest in peace, foster father."

***

A conversation between Segreti Secondo Achlys Segreti and Simon Cozart, before Cozart died from direct exposure to Trinisette energy. (Which later in the Future arc is called "Trinisette Radiation", used by Byakuran to kill the Arcobaleno.

Basically, in the sense of "radiation", when exposed, the flame in the body will destabilize and divide continuously, leading to a huge source of flame being generated in the body while the body cannot adapt in time with this change, resulting in the body being destroyed by the flame from the inside)

[voyagetv67]

Spongebob 🧽, and Talking Tom 🐱, and El Primo 🦹‍♂️ and Big smoke👨🏿‍🦲, Dance in Night-club

[ciaossu-imagines]

KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN - VONGOLA PRIMO GENERATION MASTERLIST

Alaude

Assorted headcanons

NSFW headcanons

With a tiny s/o

General Fanmix

Bleach AU! headcanons

Assorted headcanons

Waking up together

NSFW headcanon

What would he be as a flower

His love language

NSFW headcanons

NSFW headcanons

Christmas headcanons

NSFW headcanons

Daemon Spade

College Professor AU! headcanons

NSFW headcanons

Reaction to a strip tease

Bleach AU! headcanons

What would he be as a flower

His love language

G.

What does he taste like when kissed?

What he would be as a flower

His love language

Sleep headcanons

Past headcanons

What would cause a mental breakdown?

Giotto

Assorted headcanons

NSFW headcanons

NSFW headcanon

What he would be as a flower

His love language

Knuckle

Werewolf AU! headcanons

Ideal partner headcanons

Innocent things his partner does that turns him on

Parenting headcanons

With a pregnant s/o

Physical affection headcanons

How he feels about being his s/o's first everything

Assorted headcanons

How he interacts with Giotto and the other Guardians

What would he be as a flower

His love language

No go bodily zone

Lampo

NSFW Never Have I

What he would be as a flower

His love language

Ugetsu Asari

Sad, Angry & NSFW headcanons

Pros and Cons to having sex with him

Him playing a song for his s/o drabble

NSFW headcanons

What does he taste like when kissed

What he would be as a flower

His love language

[elbiotipo]

Ya hice este post pero es imposible usar la teoría de generaciones (específicamente la de los Boomers, milenials, zoomers, etc.) para cualquier tipo de análisis serio político o social, porque son términos hechos exclusivamente en un contexto estadounidense y son solamente aplicables allá (capaz en Canadá y capazz en algún otro país del primer mundo)... es totalmente ridículo aplicarlo al resto del mundo, un adolescente en Argentina vivió los 70 de una manera totalemente diferente que un estadounidense, o un chino, o un egipcio.

Por ejemplo el mismo término baby boomer hace referencia al baby boom que ocurrió en EEUU después de la segunda guerra mundial. En un país como en Argentina, que no entró en la guerra, decir que hay "boomers" no tiene sentido. Y encima nadie se pone de acuerdo cuando empiezan. Los millenials empiezan en los 80? 90? terminan en los 2000? 2010? Nadie está de acuerdo, es inútil.

Y ni siquiera son aplicables en EEUU porque cada generación está compuesta de diferentes clases sociales con distintas experiencias de vida. Una familia de clase baja o de una minoría en EEUU seguramente recuerda los 60-70 de manera muy diferente que una familia clase alta anglosajona.

a lo sumo podés encontrar algunas tendencias de la cultura mundial (por ejemplo, la contracultura de los 60-70, la expansión del internet, etc.) pero nada muy útil.

[queenharumiura]

A simple lil bio thing, but: [x] I gave Haru a Primo generation incarnation (bc why not?) so it would make it easier to interact with any primo generation muses. o/ Don't have to settle for Haru interacting with 'ghosts' anymore! Say hello to Fiore Rossi.

[onceuponaladye]

AGREED!!!!

HE’S BEAUTIFUL, HE’S EVERYTHING

agreed but also @anadorablekiwi @onceuponaladye

[wisteriagoesvroom]

okay I need to let it out I love ollie’s bear branding but he is literally a DEER and he is literally british sungchan from riize

ok here is where i confess i am a 3rd gen stan so i can't ball hard with the gen5 references HOWEVER i see the vision and the vibes match is sooooo important

and you're right. he's literally a deer. afternoon of a faun aaaaaah-type beat but hopefully less sacrificial. but then again ollie's destiny may be to join ferrari and we all see how primo deer charles is doing...

[latinotiktok]

Propaganda:

Tortugas Ninja

-Miguel Ángel la tortuga ninja versión 2003 / es argentino pq yo lo digo (m identifico mucho con él es irreal) (also hizo una canción en español)

-April O'Neil de Rise of the TMNT es brasilera. ME CANSE DE QUE LOS GRINGOS TENGAN TODAS LAS TORTUGAS DENME A ALGUIEN. PONDRIA A CASEY PERO CREO QUE APRIL ES MAS "REALISTA"

-Leonardo Hamato (si, la tortuga ninja) ESPECÍFICAMENTE de la serie de 2012 mi evidencia es que se llama leo como messi y es la tortuga azul boludo obviamente es argentino es LA TORTUGA AZUL aparte ese insano tiene banda de cuchillos escondidos eso es re argentino a mi parecer, aparte es gay (delusion mia) y tiene psicosis (sorprendentemente canon, alucina a su viejo muerto a veces) aparte tiene 15 y mide 1.54 lol esta chiquito

-Michelangelo the ninja turtle. (any iteration tbh) SPECIFICALLY THE 2012 ONE THO. HE IS PERUVIAN. HE JUST IS

-Miguel Ángel, de las tortugas ninjas 2012. Ese pana es peruano.

-Las tortugas Ninja pero la nueva pelicula Mutant Mayhem pq hacen referencias a shakira y pura pendejada y media, tambien usan frases mexicanas te amo tanto toblaje de las tortugas ninja, tambien le dicen rafita a rafa MWAH

-Las tortugas ninja, son Japoneses y tambien son Latinos. Acaso necesito decir más???

-Las tortugas ninja. Porque si probaran la pizza de acá en comparación con la de NYC emigrarían de inmediato

-Casey Jones. Ya fue. Cual? El que parezca mas latino(EhemehemARGENTOehem), busquen en sus corazones... el de 2012 ya es mexicano asi que no cuenta pero necesito mas personajes de tmnt latinos

-Yo digo las tortugas ninja, que aunque yo preferiría que sean los 4 porque son gemelos/hermanos. Ya que la gente dicen específicamente a Miguel Ángel yo digo Leonardo porque si, y también porque en la nueva película "Caos Mutante" el actor de voz de el en el doblaje original, tiene raíces Mexicanas.

-eu también pongamos a raphael la tortuga ninja (serie 2003 y 2012) / es argento (<- proyectando). m da risa mi headcanon d q si se enoja t lanza 90 insultos como el meme ese "escuchame una cosa hijo d remil-" (no sé cómo era pero le habían hecho mod d friday night funkin AJDHIAAJAJ)

Karamatsu Matsuno de la serie Osomatsu-san porque tiene el swing, las pelotas y el carisma para ser latino honorario profesor de rumba. ¿Han visto algunos de sus trajes oficiales? ¿Su flow? Si lo llevamos a un Carnaval de Río le cambiamos la vida

MATSUNO KARAMATSU just trust me su futuro está siendo un gogo boy en una fiesta de orgullo (Krmts ícono bi tqm)

Karamatsu Karamatsuuuuuu porque lo quiero rescatar de su destino NINI de mierda y hacerlo mi sugar baby. Que me limpie la piscina de plástico no más, bbsote ♥️♥️♥️

Wn el Karamatsu!!! Está tan rico acá lo adoptamos los gringos son demasiado tikis mikis ayy ñiñiñi "es que es cringe🥺" DÉBILES no lo aprecian 😤😤😤

KARAMATSU. ES UN NINI CON VIBRA SABROSONA, ESA ACTITUD LA APRECIARÍAMOS AQUÍ

Karamatsu. Oime a ver: - NINI que se dedica a tocar la guitarra y cantar desde el techo de su casa de forma autodidacta y empírica. El que no tenga un primo que canta canciones de Maná en las reuniones que alce la mano. - Era actor en el colegio y a veces es ✨Dramátiko✨ de forma telenovelezca, les juro que todo su repertorio se lo aprendió a Soraya y a los wachos machos de Pasión de Gavilanes - tiene alma de Horse Girl. Lo mismo ^^^. - Cejas latinas LPM - tiene un Alter Ego que se llama Summer Kamen (BUSQUENLO) y si eso solo no basta para nacionalizarlo en Brasil o algún país caribeño pos entonces el sistema nos ha fallado🧐

[francescosatanassi]

DI UNA COSA ERAVAMO CERTI

La Seghettina è un luogo sperduto nel cuore delle foreste casentinesi. Eppure, alla fine del '43, qui si scrisse la storia. Un gruppo di ufficiali inglesi, fuggiti dal carcere toscano di Vinciliata, fu condotto qui grazie alla rete antifascista locale. Il gruppo rimase alla Seghettina diversi mesi, incrociando le vite e i destini di persone come il comandante partigiano Libero; Arturo e Tonino Spazzoli (a capo di una vasta rete clandestina), l'agente dei servizi segreti americani Bruno Vailati; il capo del Fronte Nazionale Giusto Tolloy, ma anche il socialista Torquato Nanni e l'ex squadrista Leandro Arpinati, torbido individuo passato all'antifascismo per tentare di ripulirsi. È alla Seghettina che nacque il primo progetto d'azione militare unitaria tra alleati e partigiani. È qui che si pianificarono i primi aviolanci di armi. Ed è da qui, grazie alla solidarietà dei romagnoli, che gli inglesi partirono per raggiungere le linee alleate nascosti casa per casa, scoprendo che erano le persone comuni a mantenere intatta ed efficace la Resistenza di questa terra. Così scrisse il gen. Neame nelle sue memorie: “Di una cosa eravamo assolutamente certi, nessun contadino di queste montagne ci avrebbe mai tradito, né per denaro, né per minacce.”

[artificialmoth]

Waiter!!! Waiter!!!! More Alpha Delta and Omega please!!!!

anything for u, customer /silly

@skele-bunny

read on ao3 or below!

Like Coming Home Gen // No archive warnings Alpha/Delta/Omega // Light emotional hurt/comfort, mostly comfort A new Water ghoul is being summoned, and the best comes from it.

Alpha sighed, and adjusted his mask impatiently. “Omega, we can’t be late.” He called with a frown. Omega clattered around in their en suite bathroom, getting ready on his own. “What ghoul is it this time?” He asked as he sat on the edge of their bed, checking his nails.

Omega didn’t reply for a moment - probably making sure his hair looked good despite the mask and hood they were obligated to wear to the Ritual. “Water, I think.” His tone was distant, almost airy. Alpha winced, leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and sighed. Pushing his own mask up, he rubbed his face lightly and closed his eyes.

It was hard every time. The ghoul they’d been forced to leave behind in the Pits, the third piece to their silent trio, was never the one that was brought up by the summoning of another Water ghoul. Alpha wasn’t sure how long he could hold out hope for him to be the one plucked - there were hundreds of Water ghouls, the chances of him being chosen were slim to begin with.

But, hope was all he and Omega had.

In the Pits, they’d been an unstoppable little trio. While Alpha would never want to give his current pack up, he longed for the pretty Water ghoul they’d left behind. Being chosen for a summoning was random - it was pure luck that he and Omega got summoned together. Omega insisted it must’ve been because of their bond. Alpha refused to agree. If their bond was why, then Delta should’ve been with them.

Delta, their third - their Water ghoul. It’d been unwilling - Alpha held onto the hope, with each new Water summoned, to find Delta in the circle. That Delta hadn’t been killed in their absence, that if they ever went back, they’d reunite finally. That they’d go back to that idyllic spot by a vast lake, and find Delta in the water like always.

So far, it hadn’t happened.

Alpha knew the toll it was taking on Omega. He was the one to help with every summoning, it was harder and harder for him to greet a new Water ghoul, but never Delta.

Truthfully, it was just as hard on Alpha.

Sighing, he stood up, fixing his mask and walking to the bathroom. Pushing the door open fully, he stepped up behind Omega, and rested his hands on his hips. “C’mon. We gotta go.” He murmured quietly. Omega sighed, fixed his mask and nodded.

“Alright.” He murmured, voice sounding so small. Alpha squeezed him lightly, before stepping away and taking his hand. He guided Omega out, where they rejoined the rest of their pack and went down to the sprawling catacombs beneath the Abbey.

The trek there was well-learned, Alpha and Omega had attended every summoning since their own, since the revival of the band with Primo. They knew the path to the ritual room like the back of their hand. Stepping in, they found it already full. Terzo was waiting for them alongside some Cardinal Alpha had only seen once before, and a few clergy members.

Sister Imperator wasn’t present, thankfully. Alpha was sick of her hanging around, especially after she fired Papa Secondo.

Alpha led Omega to their spots, allowing the rest of their pack to file in behind them and line up against the wall closest to them, in their usual spots, with Alpha and Omega silently bracketing Terzo on either side. He was standing in front of the pulpit, one hand resting on the thick book laid open on it. Alpha didn’t know exactly what it contained - Omega did, apparently - but all Alpha knew was it contains any ritual they’d need.

On the other side of the pulpit, the Cardinal and another ghoul were finishing up setting everything up - the elaborate summoning circle, the candles, the offerings of fresh blood and exotic fish Alpha had seen being brought in yesterday.

Widening his stance, Alpha crossed his arms behind his back, the opposite to Omega, who kept his feet together and arms crossed over his chest. Tilting his head up, Alpha peered over the pulpit, watching the Cardinal and ghoul finish the final outline. Taking the thick chalk and stepping out of the way, they both hurried to join the silent line-up of Clergy members nearby.

The room was large, specially carved out to ensure the safety of the summoner and any onlookers. Terzo was the closest to the circle, the one most in-danger. It’s why Alpha and Omega stayed behind him, ready to defend him at all costs. While it hadn’t happened yet, neither were willing to take any chances and get him killed.

The room was circular, with a high, vaulted ceiling that made everything echo. Alpha hated it. It made his skin crawl. Omega had told him it was simply because of how close they were to Purgatory, here.

The barrier between Earth and the PIts was thin, here. Worn thin over years of summonings, tearing a very hole through existence into another plane to pull another ghoul out. It wasn’t natural, Omega assured, it was only normal that any ghoul’s hackles would be raised in a place like this.

Despite that, Omega had never seemed particularly bothered. It wasn’t clear why, Alpha just assumed it was a quality of Quintessence ghouls.

Sighing, Alpha glanced at Terzo. He looked calm, as he always did. Borderline calculating. Despite that, Alpha knew how much Terzo wanted to bring them Delta. When they’d quietly told him - and only him, noone, even their own pack, knew otherwise - about their beloved Water ghoul, Terzo had promised to do everything in his power to bring them together again.

In the Pits, they hadn’t been mated. Alpha and Omega had decided together not to mate after being summoned, either. Despite their close bond, neither of them wanted to exclude Delta. If they never found him again, they’d die without being mated. It simply wouldn’t feel right.

So, they resigned themselves to this - to hoping every time a new summoning came around, praying silently to themselves to find Delta in the circle.

Alpha tried to cling to the hope that Delta was alive, that he’d be brought home finally. But, as time went on, he wavered in his hope. Delta hadn’t been the strongest ghoul - despite Water ghouls being hardy, it was difficult for Delta to get around on land in the Pits. He was adept in the water, a hunter through and through. But it meant he could be flushed out easily, swept up in a net or outright driven from the water if a Fire ghoul was involved enough to heat it up too much. He would’ve been a sitting duck, especially on land.

Alpha knew Omega preferred not to think of those potentials. He did, too. It was hard to think that their Delta, their water ghoul, their third, might’ve died alone in the Pits, without them. It was easy, at times, to hate the Clergy. Early on, Alpha hated Primo. Hated the concept of the Emeritus’ actions, their desire to spread the word of Satan himself through music. Had they not wanted it, Alpha and Omega would never have been summoned.

To Alpha, it’s bittersweet. He loved being topside, loved the ghouls he’s come to cherish as a pack, but he longed for Delta above all else.

Rolling his shoulders, he adjusted his stance again. His tail swept to the side, spade bumping against Omega’s tail lightly. Omega didn’t move apart from hooking his tail around Alpha’s, the coarse fur rubbing lightly against Alpha’s skin.

Alpha refocused ahead of them when Terzo cleared his throat and stood straight as he began to speak in a mixture of old Latin and Ghoulish. It was bizarre to hear it from Terzo - bizarre to hear it from any human, frankly.

Water ghoul summonings always put Alpha on edge. Both with the hope to see Delta in the circle, and also as an innate instinct of being fire.

The air grew heavy, swelling with moisture. The longer the ritual went, the more humidity gathered. Droplets formed on the stone walls and floor and dripped from the ceiling. For Alpha, it was hard to breathe. His tail tightened around Omega’s, and he felt the quintessence ghoul send a spark up his tail. Soothing him.

He narrowed his eyes as every inhale started to ache. Lungs laden with moisture, nose burning slightly. The air felt heavy.

The water droplets that’d begun to form, started drawing in. Beading and grouping together, dragging along like rainwater on a window, being pulled to the center of the circle. The chalk remained untouched as the water passed over it, forming a puddle in the center that kept growing unnaturally. The stone floor under the ever increasing puddle of water, appeared to ripple as well. The stones cracking and crumbling away into nothing. Into the Void.

The water swirled around it violently, being held in place by the circle, invisible walls keeping the water from spilling out across the stone floor.It was hypnotic, rougher than Alpha had ever seen a summoning be before. The water was frothing, splashing violently and swirling into a whirlpool as the stone vanished.

Swirling down into the Void, meeting whatever ghoul was being summoned, easing the transition topside.

As the water was pulled back up, Terzo’s voice gained an almost ethereal effect to it as he spoke louder and louder. He gripped the pulpit on either side of the old book, white eye shining in the low lighting. Alpha could only see his profile, the way his brow furrowed and his eye went wide as he spoke with increasing volume and intensity.

Alpha knew the toll these summonings took on the Emeritus brothers - it’d taken trial and error for it to be wholly safe for Primo, specifically. He’d retired remarkably early, on his own accord as opposed to the false willingness that Secondo had. He hadn’t been well, and now in his retirement, he was flourishing. Still a stern old man, but he didn’t look quite as haggard anymore.

Turning his attention back to the circle, the stone floor was becoming visible again, the tendrils of the Void seeping back down between the seams and cracks in the old stones as they reformed seemingly from nothing. A webbed hand was gripping onto the stone, a body hauling out of the gap slowly closing around them. It was always a race to see if the ghoul would make it in time. Omega had to pull Alpha from the gap, lest the reforming stones crushed him. Despite their best efforts to keep the rift open long enough for even the weaker ghouls to make it through faster, it seemed that it was too hard on the Emeritus brothers.

The water was moving too violently for any of them to see the features of the ghoul in the circle, even as the water began to soak down into the stones, slowly disappearing back into the earth. Out of the corner of his eye, Alpha saw the Cardinal from before, holding tight to the ghouls arm at his side. If Alpha remembered correctly, this Cardinal had just been transferred to the Abbey recently, at Sister’s behest. His ghoul - a wiry little Quintessence runt - had been summoned by him. A test of his prowess, Alpha had attended the summoning to monitor it, curious to see what would come of the odd Cardinal.

Terzo stopped chanting after a moment, breathing hard. Alpha knew he was gripping the pulpit tight enough for his knuckles to go white, to hide the shake of his hands. Omega stepped forward, resting a tender hand on Terzo’s back, offering his quintessence to soothe him.

The water was gone, reduced to shallow puddles. The water ghoul in the center soaking and gasping roughly, gills flaring open as they struggled to adapt to breathing air again. Alpha knew how rough it could be for all ghouls, but especially water ghouls. It was disorienting for any of them, harder on a ghoul who’d just been swimming.

But… He stared harder, frowning.

They seemed familiar.

The ghoul wasn’t facing them, having hunched over and was coughing raggedly. The curve of their cheek, their horns, was familiar. The finned tail slapped wetly against the stones, lashing like a beached fish.

Tilting his head, he scented the air as best he could, still heavy with humidity. There wasn’t much to go off of - water ghouls didn’t have much of a scent when wet, but…

He broke formation, nearly knocking the pulpit over in his haste to pass Terzo and Omega.

“Alpha?” Omega called from Terzo’s other side, still tending to the man, surely giving him sparks of quintessence to try and ease the migraine caused by every summoning.

Alpha didn’t hesitate, even as one of the Clergy members called for Terzo to control his ghoul. Smearing the chalk - wet, now, easy to break the line - Alpha stumbled and dropped to his knees just before reaching the water ghoul.

He couldn’t care less about making a fool of himself, crawling forward to see them, cupping the ghouls face to bring them up to sit higher. Both to ease the strain on their lungs, and to see their face.

Meeting the ghouls eyes - no.

Meeting Delta’s eyes, Alpha felt the world itself sweep away beneath his knees.

“Delta!” He gasped raggedly, cupping his face, thumbs smoothing over his cheeks. He watched in real-time as Delta processed his face, took in his features. Watched his pretty blue-green eyes widen, before he suddenly had an armful of wet water ghoul.

Squeezing Delta close and burying his face into his neck, he felt his gills flare as Delta gasped and clung to him. Alpha gasped a sob.

For the first time in years, he could hold his water ghoul close. A scuffle nearby made his ears flick, but he knew it was Omega. Felt the larger ghoul drop beside Delta, leaned into him when Omega embraced them both.

Pulling back, Alpha brushed Delta’s wet hair out of his face, and took in his features.

“You’re alive.” He breathed in awe t. He’d hoped, prayed, that Delta was alive, still.

His chest felt lighter than it had since he was summoned, finally having Delta back. Tears brimmed Delta’s eyes as he tried to push closer to them both, claws digging into Alpha’s uniform.

Alpha squeezed him closer, pulling Omega in tighter and sandwiched Delta between them. Delta shook with silent sobs, burying his face against Omega’s chest, twisting to cling to him, too. Alpha cupped the back of Delta’s neck, sighing shakily. He moved to stand up, grabbing Delta’s arm when he reached out to him, turning with frantic, frightened eyes. Omega rose, too, hands firm on Delta’s waist to help him stand up, as well.

Keeping a hold of Delta’s arm, Alpha turned, half-stepping to reach out toward their pack for the blanket to cover Delta up. It’s a lot colder on the surface than the pits, and significantly colder than the areas Delta preferred swimming.

Already, he could feel Delta begin to shiver, finned tail brushing along the floor as he tucked it close to his body, around a leg.

Pebble - a newer ghoul, one Alpha didn’t know quite as well as the others - passed the blanket over. Unfolding it with a shake, Alpha wrapped it around Delta’s shoulders, using a corner of it to ruffle through his damp hair, before tucking it around him properly. Pulling Delta in close afterward, Alpha cranked up his own heat to keep him warm.

Delta nestled close, despite keeping an arm out to hold onto Omega. Terzo had stepped around the pulpit, even in his paints, Alpha could see the furrow between his brow as he watched.

“Papa.” Alpha ducked his head, “My apologies, for acting out of line.” A rehearsed script - Terzo couldn’t care less about what Alpha did, as long as he didn’t burn anything down or kill someone without reason. It was all for show, the Clergy members nearby were ruffled and upset that a ghoul would dare break formation before Papa allowed.

Raising his hand, Terzo dismissed his words, “What is the reason?” He asked, though Alpha could hear the hopeful tone behind how exhausted he sounded. Ears tipping forward slightly, Alpha lifted his head.

“This is Delta.” He stated, tail giving a short wag before he stopped, hooking his tail around Delta’s to keep himself from showing how excited he was. In front of the Clergy, he doesn’t want to give them any ammunition to dislike him more, or try and argue that he’s unfit.

Terzo’s eyes shone slightly, softening as he smiled, “Delta, hm?” He walked closer, reaching forward to cup one of Delta’s hands, which was clasped in Alpha’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my ghoul.”

Delta blinked at him, before ducking his head and nodding, “Who…?”

“We’ll tell you.” Omega rumbled low in his chest soothingly, “Let’s get you warmed up, first.”

Terzo nods, squeezing Delta’s hand before releasing him and stepping aside, “I won’t stop you.” He smiled warmly, resting a hand on Omega’s forearm, meeting Alpha’s eyes, “I’m glad to have brought him to you, again.”

Alpha nodded shortly, offering a tense smile. Now that Delta was at his side, he was on edge again. Nervous. The Clergy couldn’t be trusted, they were always conspiring behind Terzo’s back, with Sister Imperator.

He couldn’t trust them, didn’t want to trust them. He wanted to get Delta out of their sight as soon as possible. Wanted to take Delta away and hide him in their den, nestle him in his and Omega’s - and now Delta’s - nest so his scent would weave into the fabric there and stay.

With no hesitation, they moved. Delta wasn’t sure on his feet yet, but kept up. The cold floor surely irritated his sensitive skin. Their pack fell in behind and around them. Alpha and Omega were the largest, taking the lead with Delta easily, whilst the others trailed behind them. A loose formation to protect their newest member, their most vulnerable.

They kept up the formation until they reached their quarters, Alpha immediately pulling both of his ghouls away, into his shared room with Omega. Using the blanket, he wiped Delta down gently, his skin now mostly dry, his hair sticking up oddly due to how it dried.

Smiling, Alpha hefted Delta up into the nest, all but tossing him. It earned a squeal, before the water ghoul groaned and twisted, rolling over and burying his face in the nearest blanket. His tail thudded against the bedding as it wagged hard.

Omega discarded his mask as Alpha took his own off, already starting to strip. They dumped their uniforms off to the side - Alpha would be irritated, later, but he couldn’t care now.

Climbing into bed together, Alpha flopped down beside Delta, and Omega took up his spot behind Delta.

Sighing happily, Alpha’s tail began to wag, and managed to keep in time with Delta’s, too. A heavy purr started from Omega, and Alpha followed shortly. Curling closer, he nestled his nose into Delta’s hair and closed his eyes.

“I never thought I’d see you two again.” Delta admitted, voice small and wet with unshed tears. Alpha squeezed him and rested his hand on Delta’s side, rubbing the bare skin soothingly.

“We’re here. You’re here.” Omega murmured, Alpha could feel him moving around. Pressing up behind Delta, tucking his face into the back of Delta’s neck. His big hand brushed briefly against Alpha’s, before resting on Delta’s hip.

“You’re here…” Alpha parroted, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He was finally able to relax fully, finally at ease. Finally, it felt like he was home.

[anamelessfool]

𝔓𝔞𝔭𝔞 ℭ𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔬 (1907-1983) and fic!

Reign 1942-1954, Satanic Bishop of New York City (1954-1983)

Everybody needs a mentor, especially delusional people like Young Nihil. So enter Papa Camino, a Papa Emeritus who is heavily influenced by Cab Calloway. (And is wearing an actual Schiaparelli silk tie from the 1950s) Notable Ghouls: Phantom, Dewdrop, Cumulus

The Path (AO3 Link)

GEN Young Nihil & OC Papa, Young Nihil & Family 3K Words

Tags: Mentor Figure, Deal With The Devil, Family Angst, 4 Year Old Primo Is In This One, This is Officially the Most Self Indulgent Fic I've Written and Yes I'm Including the Smut, Alternate History, Ghost Scenes from the Void AU, Ministry Lore and Dramaaaaa

1957, New York City: Bishop Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

More Art and the Fic Below the Cut!

1957 New York City

Camino was a man who demanded what he wanted, and created for himself what he was denied. After his wildly successful tour as Papa Emeritus of the Satanic Church of the Void, he brought his expertise, his talent, and his cunning to his new post as the Satanic Bishop of New York City.

After the fourth rejection of his application to join the most prestigious gentlemen’s social club in the city (and it was definitely not because he was a Satanic Anti-Pope) Camino decided to run his own club out of the New York Ministry location. The music was hotter, the skirts were shorter and the booze flowed higher than the runoff in the gutters after a rainstorm.

The New York City chapter of the Satanic Church of the Void soon became less a place of organized worship and more the most chaotic and happening nightclub no one dared talk about in the sunshine. No act was denied, no artistic experiment too bizarre— almost twenty-four hours of the day there would be something to see for everyone. At two PM there could be a poetry reading for moody folks in black turtlenecks. At four PM was a 1920s Big Band Revival stint, six to ten PM Camino himself took command as bandleader. Midnight to two AM was reserved for drag shows. Often at three AM some interpretive dancer could be writhing on stage wrapped in tinfoil wailing about his daddy issues. It was vibrant, sometimes exhausting but never ever boring. Just like the Bishop.

And any high society man caught sneaking in would be promptly hogtied and left out in the alley with the rest of the trash.

Camino always got what he wanted. And he wanted to share what he took from life with everyone he thought hungry enough to work for it. He was also a man who today invited Zero, of all the siblings in his care, to a private meeting in his office.

As Zero sat uneasily in a plush armchair he could pick himself out from the posters and photographs covering the wood-paneled walls of the bishop’s office. He was often in the background— a blur holding a guitar, a trombone, hiding behind a mountain of drums. In six years Zero had become an established character in Camino’s church. He had stopped his rail-hopping life and settled in with a pretty blonde poetess, living just outside earshot of the church turned nightclub with a couple of potted plants and a young son. It surprised him how much he enjoyed the ebb and flow of a domestic existence. But then again, living and working in a place of constant change and noise and life and art is like wandering without ever leaving home.

“Brother Zero, I can hear your knees knocking from over here!” Bishop Camino closed the humidor cabinet and returned to his massive desk with a choice cigar. He winked his eye, his human eye. The Infernal Eye, his gift and his curse from his time as Papa, leered into Zero. It was as icy and silvery as the tools Camino used to delicately trim and light his smoke. “You'd know if you were in trouble! Relax, stay a while! How's junior?”

“Oh, swell, just swell,” said Zero, slowly uncurling himself in his seat.

“I got box seats at the Polo Grounds whenever you two want to see a game,” Camino replied. “Owner of the Giants owes me. Funny how many folks owe me, hm?”

“You're more than generous, all the time.” Zero couldn't help but feel a fondness for the man. “You helped me.”

“Alley cats are hungry, feed ‘em. Keeps the rats away. Now…” Camino noticed the smallest mote of dust on his suit, frowned deeply, and brushed it off. Camino never wore formal vestments outside of Mass, preferring instead a red silk suit with razor-sharp shoulders. Firstly because that was his look during his time as Papa Emeritus, and secondly because there was no one in New York City who would dare tell the bishop otherwise.

“Have you ever thought about the path?” He continued. Bishop Camino leaned back in his leather chair, settling in to a languid taste of his Cuban cigar. “I think you have what it takes to be Papa. Believe me, I know.”

Zero’s eyes widened, his mouth stretching open cartoonishly in shock. “You really think that?”

“Claro. Really. You've played in the house band many a time. You know more instruments than most, and catch on so quick. You're more Ghoul than man sometimes,” Camino chuckled. Zero had indeed performed for a few years in Camino's exclusive club for degenerates, and his saxophone playing was described as “a good start” which was a big compliment coming from the Bishop.

“Times are different. Big bands are out. Five pieces are in. More flexible. Digestible. What with television everywhere now.” Camino nodded. “Jazz clubs are gone, thing of the past. I'm not too proud to admit that.”

“Oh, you got more talent in your little finger than most in their whole body!” Zero piped up. “Don't sell yourself short!”

Camino gave him a wry look. “Hermano, I didn't say anything about that. Of course I'm talented. I'm the most talented motherfucker you ever saw. But times are changing. The Church needs fresh blood. And you'd be perfect for it. You got a face for television!”

Zero looked through the wooden blinds of the window, at the lines of taxis dutifully filing past. A limo turned the corner, its black and silver form sleek amongst the herd of yellow and checkerboard. Zero saw the shining sweep of the Rolls-Royce maiden perched on the hood, bowing low with her steel gossamer cloak frozen forever against the wind. A face for television, Zero thought. He never really had a television, or an actual home to plug any sort of luxury into since leaving Milwaukee, but everyone that did had the potential to see him. To hear his music. To see his face.

“That sounds swell, how would I even start?”

Camino grunted a laugh, his teeth gripping his cigar. From his place behind his massive desk he elegantly poured a finger of amber liquid from a crystal decanter into two equally opulent glasses. “Well, you have to let everyone know your intention. Even when you're not saying a word. Especially then. Your whole body must…vibrate…with that desire.”

Zero took a glass from him, nodding eagerly. “I can do that. I can vibrate with desire!”

“Naturally,” said Camino. “I'll put you in touch with Mother Imperator’s assistant, a em…a Sister Rebecca. She'll help me authorize a transfer and you can move to the heart of the Ministry.”

They clinked glasses, and Zero took a sip. It burned across his throat, tore a hole in his belly. He coughed in surprise, making every attempt to choke as politely as possible. “Move? There's somewhere else?”

“Yes, a few hours drive up north,” Camino replied. His perfectly sculpted thin moustache twitched as he frowned. “And how the hell you choking on that, boy? That's a goddamn forty year.”

Zero mumbled an apology, then felt Camino’s strong hand on his chin, jerking his face upwards for inspection. His hand was surprisingly soft, well manicured. The floral scent of hair oil drifted down from his clothing. The older man smirked, his eyes crinkling as thoughts passed through his mind. The Infernal Eye glared down at Zero from its socket in Camino’s skull, its glow removed from this realm, a separate entity also holding judgement towards him. He could have sworn the steely pinprick of a pupil moved independent from the human eye just across the bridge of the jazz singer’s nose. Zero swallowed. “Face for television,” Camino murmured, and with his other hand took a thoughtful sip of his own glass.

Zero stretched his mouth into a submissive smile. “Maybe.”

Camino gave Zero a rough pat, nearly a slap on the side of his face, and stepped away to pick up his cigar again. “Listen here, I sent my successor up to their headquarters, had them start meeting people, gather friends— boom! They're now Papa Emeritus and gaining traction in the charts every day. The trick…is to be underfoot.” Camino let out a satisfied puff of smoke. “Thing about that place is that running the Ministry is the only thing anyone can do up there in that godforsaken wilderness. So if you want something you're front and center!”

“But…moving?” Zero had just finally put roots down after a youth of wandering. He thought of Nance, of little Primo waiting for him back at their apartment. Nance with the baby on her lap as she sat by the plants on the fire escape, her red lips smiling contentedly out at the symphony of asphalt and blaring car horns.

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Camino. “Kids love it out there. At least I'm pretty certain they do.”

Camino was met with an awkward silence, and he settled into his chair, the leather offering a tired wheeze. “Yes, the city is difficult to leave,” Camino continued, steepling his fingers. He grinned. “Which is why I came back.” And promptly at midnight a town car would pick him up and drive him back to his home in Queens. “But, I've done my time, and did the work. I'm here to guide now. And I think you need to take bigger risks.”

“Nance loves it here. She was born here.” Zero smiled slightly into the middle space. “Primo was born here.”

“It's not easy raising a child in the city, believe me. My sisters complain enough. And me…well, I became a jazz singer.” He chuckled. “That tells you everything you need to know about that.”

“Could be good for junior,” Zero mused.

“Would be good for his old man too,” Camino replied with a wink. “You just say the word. I'm serious about you.”

Horns blared from outside on the street, followed by shouts and curses. The chauffeur of the Rolls-Royce rolled up up his sleeves and unbuttoned his vest as his cap fell on the sidewalk. Across from him, an equally irate taxi driver wrenched himself from the crumpled yellow door of his taxi. A woman was trapped in the back of the Rolls, hanging out the window and screeching while the rat-like dog in her arms barked. The taxi driver jumped across the hood of the limo and delivered a heavy-fisted crack to the chauffeur’s mug that Zero could hear all the way from his spot by the window. He winced as he unconsciously massaged the same place on his jaw. Camino clapped his hand across Zero’s shoulder, laughing, his lips peeled back over sharp white teeth in a roar of amusement. The Infernal Eye shone. “Fresh air and sunshine, hermano!”

-------

“Fresh air, sunshine, forests and mountains,” said Zero as he and Sister Nance held hands on a park bench and watched their young son totter around the steel playground. “Would be good for junior, yanno?”

“This sounds rehearsed,” Nance snorted, flashing him one of her elfin grins. “What's the deal? Why all of a sudden you want to move?”

Zero shrugged. “No deal. Just…need a change, maybe.”

“Zero, dear. Don't even try to lie to me.”

“Bishop Camino… thinks I should be Papa Emeritus.”

“You?” Nance made a face. “You haven't held a single job for more than a year. And you…want to run this whole thing? You want to be Papa?”

Zero frowned back, a little wounded but willing to fight. “None of those gigs were ever that interesting.”

“And you can't just up and walk away from this one,” Nance said. “No session musician or delivery boy or taxi driver ever had to commit his soul.” She tapped the place under her left eye. “Camino and the others…got a piece of their immortal soul committed to the Void. A chunk of it is just…it's just gone.”

That whitened eye of Camino burned in Zero’s brain once more. The sharp-toothed wicked grin, the bone-chilling tension of that pinprick pupil sliding across him and passing judgement. Zero had a face for television, sure— but Camino…Camino’s visage came from someplace else.

Like any blow he's ever taken, Zero shrugged it all off. “Wasn't using my immortal soul much anyway,” he chuckled.

“Goddamit Zero.” Nance crumpled into a fussy search of her coat for her silver cigarette case. He felt the cold air return to the palm of his now abandoned hand as it rested on the park bench.

Primo zoomed over from across the playground, falling into his mother’s arms. Irving Robert, really, but Primo was a better nickname for him than Uno.

“Push me on the swings?” asked their son, grinning under the hat Nance had knitted for him last week.

Nance cupped his face in her hands, smiling sweetly. “In a few minutes, Primo, your father and I are talking. But I bet you know how to do it yourself. We want to watch.”

“Oh, I can!”

“Good, now run! We're watching!” And Primo spun around and raced over to the swings across the park, leaving them for a few precious moments. Nance lit the cigarette in her mouth and took a drag, sighing on the exhale.

“Feels like the only thing that sticks in your brain are bad ideas, Zero,” Nance muttered. “I'm saying that affectionately.”

“You're one of ‘em,” he teased back, and she shoved him with a little laugh.

“Fine. You want to move to the Ministry Headquarters. Work right under Mother Imperator and Papa Emeritus and their whole shitty retinue.”

“And bring you along, of course,” Zero added in an attempt to reassure her. He was glad that she was even considering his idea now.

“I've been up there,” Nance continued. “Not much to do, so siblings get obsessive. I didn't want to stay long.”

“Obsessive?”

“Mother Imperator…” Nance stifled a laugh. “Absolute bag. A good hundred years old, easy. Refuses to speak anything but Italian. There's two siblings waiting for her to drop dead. Any day now, it feels.”

“Oh really now?” Zero mused, half listening.

“Sister Rebecca, for one. She went right to the top as the Dark Mother's Personal Assistant. Fluent in six languages, Italian especially. Comes from a bloodline of senators and government officials. Family's got mob money. She's next in line, for sure. And then there's…” Nance winced, as if an icy wind passed through her. “Maestra Eunice.”

“Oh, she's important?” Zero had seen her from time to time, conversing with Camino. Her hooded eyes, her deep scowl. He remembered her because he thought it a shame when blondes scowled like that. And Camino always looked queasy after their meetings.

“Leader of the Conclave,” Nance explained. “Old, old Ministry family. She's been shuffled around. She doesn't make too many friends.” Nance smiled crookedly. “And Rebecca would easily cut her throat in her sleep if Eunice doesn't get to Rebecca first. It's no good out there. Too heavy while those two wait for old Imperator to croak. You really want to live in the middle of that?”

“Two broads in a spat,” stated Zero. He figured early on that if there were two women left on the entirety of this Earth they still would think the other was talking behind their back.

“One has the keys to the entire global network of our Church, the other the deepest understanding of the magic that comes from the Void,” said Nance. “These are the two broads no one wants to stand in between.”

“Who says I have to stand between ‘em? I can make my music. And that's all I got to do.”

“There's no budging you, is there.”

“Camino…believes in me.” It was the first sincere thing Zero had said in a long while, and it left his heart with a wrenching whine that was carried through into his voice. It held such a sad little timbre that Nance shifted in her seat to look at him. “He believes in what I do.”

Zero knew few people in his life ever put their faith in him. Teachers thought him stupid. Fellow tramps on the road thought he was easy pickings. Not even his own father had much to do with him; his father, who's only belief was in his own ability to pick winning dogs at the track.

“You got to take risks on what you believe,” Zero added as she continued to contemplate his expression.

“But…moving…”

“Six years is the longest I've been in a single place,” announced Zero. He wanted to add “and loved someone”, but the thought felt intrusive and not at all something Nance wanted to hear. She knew his feet got restless if he sat for too long. She had been good to him, good for him, and he owed her his affection.

Nance grabbed his hand, turning his attention to look into her soft brown eyes. “Robert,” she began quietly, and she only used his real name when she wanted him to really listen. “What about your son? Robert…what about me?”

“I want to live my dream,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “And my dream includes you. And Primo. I…I promise I'll do right. You know I always try to do right.”

Nance smiled faintly back. “You always try,” she said quietly. “I can't argue with that. I'm happy…you found someone else who believes in you.”

“Mo-om!” Primo called to them both from his place on the swings, his arms and legs dangling as his body lay across the steel seat.

Nance got up and dropped her smoke to the ground, crushing it underfoot. “Just…give me a few days to think about it."

Zero gave her a thin smile as he watched her cross the playground. He felt he had moved the pieces in the way he wanted them, needed them to move. And he was pretty sure of the rules of the game, so how hard would all of this be? Except he felt a queasiness now instead of relief. The feeling of his words being more of a wager than a sign of honesty hung about his shoulders. He had the faint memory of being on the other side of that conversation. And in those moments what he thought was a promise, was really only a way to buy time.

It would be well worth it in the end, he assured himself. Good ideas always are, and Camino had said himself how much of a good idea Zero was. Zero got to his feet, brushing off his knees as his good-natured smile returned to his face. There was nothing to worry about. He always came out on top. He always pulled through, and folks always leant him a helping hand. And of course he'd always support Nance, and Primo. He promised her and so he owed her. What more is a promise than an IOU to someone else?

Funny how many folks owe me, said Camino as his dead eye flashed. Great men are owed. And Zero was ready to be a lender.

My Fic List | My AO3 | More Domestic Fics

Papa Camino & Dewdrop, Phantom Fic

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Got tagged by @chaotic-neutral-knitter to share my favorite fics I've written and I feel a little bad not putting any of my 3 OFMD fics on the list. But in my defense it was very hard to choose between my 116 slutty slutty children, and while I like my OFMD fics a lot (especially Learning and Remembering) I decided to limit myself to five fics across all the fandoms I have written for over the past nine (!!) years, and there are some that stand above the rest.

Maybe I'll Show You the Way (Dune, Paul/Chani). Maybe my recency bias is showing but I really think this is one of the best things I've written. Paul and Chani's whole "falling in love while fighting side by side in an anti-colonial armed resistance movement" romance in Dune Part Two felt like it was designed in a lab to appeal to me specifically, and I just wanted more of it! What started with a simple "5 times they fucked in between fighting the Harkonnens" premise has become a novella-length character study about war, politics, solidarity and resistance to oppression in all its forms, interlaced with a very sweet, youthful first-love romance that always has a bittersweet edge because we the audience know these characters are living in a tragedy. This fic is one chapter from completion and I've been stalling because I really wanna stick the landing on this one, but it will get finished!

a narrow door, swiftly closing (Dune, Paul/Duncan) Different ship, different era (post-Dune Part One) and a very different vibe. The fun of this ship is the multiple power imbalances running in different directions (younger/older, student/teacher, lord/vassal, end product of a 90-generation eugenics program with a mind that can bridge time and space/Just Some Guy). It's also got that chewy age gap thing where the older character has watched the younger character grow from a child to an adult and has to wrestle with the realization that they find them sexually attractive now. Peak forbidden romance and mutual pining in this one and not just one but two of my favorite finally-crossing-the-line kisses I have ever written.

Three Times Is a Habit (Trust, Primo/The Other Paul) Ah yes, my "which doomed curly-haired teenage twink heir to a powerful dynasty named Paul are we talking about?" era. For a hot second (most of 2021) I was really into this hidden gem FX limited series Trust, based (with many creative liberties taken) on the real kidnapping of John Paul Getty III in Italy in the 1970s. The fun of this fandom is that every ship is an absolute garbage fire of bad decisions, and writing the trainwreck emotional logic that leads to a traumatized teenager repeatedly hooking up with his kidnapper was an adventure. There's also a fun meta layer at play in the relationship between our reality, the fictionalized "true" version of the kidnapping that happens in the show, the lies the characters tell about the fictionalized version of the kidnapping in the show, and the version of the characters I'm writing, some of whom are based on real people and some of whom are made up. (Is this RPF? You decide.) This fic will make zero sense if you haven't watched the show. But you should! It's a wild ride with a great cast (Donald Sutherland presente!)

Salvage & Scrap (Mad Max: Fury Road, Gen) Two minor characters who have a combined total of maybe five minutes of screen time produced what was until recently my longest fic on AO3. This fic was based on a fantastic prompt: what if Ace (the older war boy who seems to be Furiosa's second in command on the War Rig) and Valkyrie (Furiosa's Green Place gal pal) both survived their violent vehicular encounters and met each other? The idea was immediately appealing to me because they both care about Furiosa but have known such different versions of her, and the way their worldviews would clash seemed like great story fodder. I still love the imagery of them meeting at the place where their worlds have literally collided--the wreck of the War Rig in the Rock Riders' canyon. Also I recently reread this and I forgot how devastating the tiny glimpse we get of Furiosa is in this fic.

Fightplay (Mad Max: Fury Road, Max/Furiosa) You know this list wouldn't be complete without a smutty Maxiosa fic. It was really hard to pick one piece of the 127k smut novel I wrote about them in non-chronological order over the course of about 3 years (2015-2018). But Fightplay was definitely the start of writing uhhh a certain kind of dynamic for them. The prose is very spare and exacting in a way that I still find hot 9 years later.

Tagging @thebyrchentwigges, @thetardigrape, @nandamai, @bethagain, @demolitionwoman-blog and anyone else who wants to do this!

[ketchup-chup]

Not the same anon, but why do you not consider the arcobaleno trials canon? Amano wrote them

Hello! So I first wanna preface this by saying that this is no hate to anyone who enjoys the fillers. While I personally do not like the arcobaleno trial fillers I do enjoy the one focusing on the Primo Gen! And to be frank a lot of this is just my personal opinion!

Now, onto the reasons I don’t consider them canon! Which is actually quite a few reasons but I’ll just discuss the major ones.

First, Amano did not write them! In fact, the rumour that Amano approved or had any direct hand in making them is just that. A rumour. This post by boxanimal does a lot better of a job at explaining it than I ever could so I highly recommend reading that.

But essentially. At most Amano may have given the anime staff some info about the arcobaleno’s personalities (and in the Primo Gen case probably info about Daemon’s whole thing) but there is no actual evidence to point to the fact Amano wrote or gave the fillers their stamp of approval to be considered canon.

(putting the rest under a read more since it got quite long)

Second: the characterizations are awful. I'm just gonna talk about Reborn here because he's my favourite because it's the most obvious and it directly contradicts what he’s said previously. I would make the argument the fillers write him very out of character.

What I mean by this is that during Reborn’s trial he says the following to Tsuna:

“The world’s done for if you don’t clear this trial. Don’t you care about what happens to Kyoko, Haru, and your mother?” He mentions saving the world a little later on in this battle as well.

THE THING IS!!! REBORN WOULD NEVER SAY THAT TO TSUNA!! He does not want Tsuna to play the “hero”! It was never about saving the world! This directly contradicts what he tells Tsuna at the start of the Future arc!

“Don’t try to act cool, Tsuna. You’re not the hero type, are you?” “Your reasons for enduring this training, to bring everyone back to the past, or whatever- they’re not you at all.” “Your feelings were a lot more simple at the time, weren’t they?”

Reborn knows Tsuna and knows better that this type of argument/encouragement(?) would not work! Being the hero is not what Reborn wants of Tsuna!!! it's not what he's been trying to teach him or to ever use as his main source of motivation!

So yeah. The characterizations are just. Not good.

Which brings me onto my last point. Which is the most “this is just my personal opinion” of the whole thing.

I do have the belief that the fillers are a large part the reason for many of the most common misconceptions of the arcobaleno. It goes into my previous point where the characterizations are just… not that great.

I do believe it’s why the headcanon that Luce is extremely manipulative and led the other arcobaleno (purposefully) to their doom is so popular and where it initially comes from. When we just don’t see that at all in canon nor do we see any hint or sign that the other arcobaleno hold a grudge against her.

And listen! I am a Luce defender till the day I die, I will admit this!! And I do also have the headcanon as well that she was aware of their fate. But to just water it down to “she misled and lied to the others therefore she is an awful person” does such a disservice to her and the tragedy that is being a Sky arcobaleno (and by extension the "curse" of having divination powers).

There are a lot of other weird things the filler implies (like Luce being pregnant as a baby) that I also won't get into. but yeah, I am just not a big fan of all the implications you get from fillers about these characters.

So yes. This is all to say you will never see me point to the fillers or use any information from them for any discussion regarding the arcobaleno.

If you enjoy the fillers and would like to consider them when you build your headcanons I think that's totally fair and great! You just won't see that from me personally, and I just ask that people don't point to it when discussing canon!

[a-room-of-my-own]

Sarkozy a supprimé l'équivalent de 10,000 postes de flics, la situation actuelle lui est attribuable en partie. C'est lui qui a eu la riche idée du non remplacement d'un fonctionnaire sur deux, ce qui a donné rapidement des campagnes de recrutement énormes quand certaines administrations se sont rendues compte que c'était ingérable de travailler avec tellement de gens en moins. Exemple type, les services de greffe et la pénitentiaire. Mais aussi la police ! D'où les recrutements de cowboys formés et 4 jours et demi avec les conséquences que l'ont sait.

J'ai été agressée dans la rue il y a 3 ans, je suis allée porter plainte, et je me suis retrouvée avec un mec qui faisait 3 fautes par ligne dans son PV et qui avait Rires et Chansons à tue-tête dans le bureau tout le long du dépôt de plainte. Heureusement que c'était pas grave et que j'étais ni blessée ni rien.

Sarkozy est un criminel en col blanc qui n'avait rien à cirer de la sécurité de qui que ce soit, il avait juste compris que surjouer sur l'insécurité lui permettait de siphonner les voix du FN. Il avait copié l'idée du Karcher sur Arnold Schwarzenegger et son fameux "coup de balai" quand il était en campagne pour devenir gouverneur de Californie quelques années auparavant. C'était juste un ridicule gimmick.

En plus la droite comme la gauche font comme si les gens qui habitent en banlieue, et d'autant plus ceux d'origine étrangère, ne souffraient pas de la délinquance. Comme si le cœur du problème était que parfois elle déborde! Alors que c'est évidemment eux qui en souffrent quotidiennement. La droite veut karchériser tout le monde, la gauche amalgame délinquants et gens honnêtes en présentant toute tentative de retour à l'ordre comme forcément raciste. C'est les deux faces de la même médaille : tous délinquants ou complices et c'est de leur faute / tous délinquants ou complices et c'est de la faute de l'état.

Avec au premier plan un 🕊petit ange🕊 tentant de brûler le drapeau français.

Autre chose qui me rend dingue, dans les jours à venir on va nous proposer des mesures dignes d'un pays en guerre, avec état d'urgence, couvre-feu, surveillance etc... des mesures qui nous obligeront tous à vivre dans une forme de bunkerisation de la vie publique, à cause d'une minorité violente qu'on repoussera dans ses quartiers avant de les arroser à coup de subventions tout en filant les clefs aux dealers et aux imams.

[menorir29]

En teoria este....tumblazo(? era para seguir el mini proyecto

¡Pero al fin imagine a los otros niños de los personajes!

El unico que habia dibujado era a valen (hijo de floyd y venner) sin embargo, ya hace bastante queria dibujar al resto de primos

Si gente, soy pesima con la anatomia country, asi que lo dibuje "normal", igualmente veo muchos niños con el gen de delta, entonces intente hacerlo diferente

¿Datos?

Solo dire que cada uno se lleva 1 o 2 años de diferencia

(No se preocupen, en este fandom, no hice ningun Au)

[kidstemplatte]

i asked my best friend who doesn’t know ghost to name the papas and give them personalities.

here is what she said. i can’t stop laughing. she nailed it. i’m literally in tears.

nihil-

big fred energy. i feel like he’s like farkle from girl meets world. nerd asf and very annoying. messed around in his moms makeup for halloween, no older than 25 but still lives with his parents.

primo-

has a fucking name like linus the mystical. oh this bitch wishes he was the fucking wizard from sofia the first. he has mad vision problems and that’s why his eye makeup is fucked up. lil slytherin ass about to cast a spell on you at a magic themed restaurant. cheap ass costume (he bought it from party city)

secondo-

this is tate from murder house, bitch ass needs anger management classes asap. frequent victim of flashback. he really hates tomatoes. permanently constipated and rlly upset about it

terzo-

william. the least weird so far but also the worst makeup. best outfit though. lowkey giving brendon urie v&v era. but he makes these high heels work (ik it’s not v&v leave me alone) his fruity ass will not walk on wet grass and only drinks mimosas even at night. he thinks he gets bitches but he actually has zero game.

(papa) copia-

oh his name is like angelo or smth. do not get me started on this bitch. while all the others were significantly under 30 this man is like 60. he hates the mailman and gets really pissed when his neighbors’ dog barks. his house is like the neighborhood haunted house and the kids knock on his door as a dare on halloween and he answers the door every 4th kid and tells them to fuck off. his ass saw the movie saw once and said this is my new look forever. he only leaves his house once a week for a 10 microwaveable meals and an entire jar of theatre grade black and white face paint.

cardinal copia-

holy fuck this bitch (paul) is the worst one. makeup still bad but also he didn’t even try. he thinks he’s the shit but he’s the most annoying one, worse than fred, no one likes him. he asks everyone to call him frederick the fierce or some shit and they’re all like “shut up paul” his favorite movie character is uncle fester and he gets way too into the younger one’s jokes in the way millennials try to assimilate w gen z humor, but his 45 yr old ass always fails