#really this could apply to any of the papa's

[dearlymrme]

Y/N: Okay, that's it! I will now torture you.

Terzo: Oh... Kinky.

Y/N: I think you are sweet and beautiful.

Terzo: Wh–? Wait–

Y/N: You deserve to be cared for as much as you care for others.

Terzo: No...

Y/N Your feelings and needs are valid and deserve to be heard.

Terzo: Stop! I need a safeword!

[dunadaan]

The curse of trying to make dúnedain men is trying to make “tall, dark haired, grey eyed” look uniquely different without being mistaken for each other

[captain039]

The Meaning of Flowers

Viktor x reader

Bridgerton AU

Warnings: olden times, sexism, light swearing, plus size reader, older Viktor, age gap, fat shaming, sexual, smut, oral F and M receiving, innocent reader, light corruption kink, reader in her 20s

Conventional Alpha can wait I need more Viktor 🤣

Dearest reader, with the city abuzz with the newest ladies heading into this year’s social season, I’d like to comment on some gracious progress from our beloved men of progress. Two men from very different lives now living in the grandest building in our lovely city, the councils palace, I do wonder though if this is indeed the year a particular man of science finally permits eager mamas and eager young ladies a chance to bask in his presence? or will our lovely city simply see him as different as always and therefore make his indifference scowl on his face as always? We shall see indeed.

There’s a rush of light behind your eyelids and a groan leaving your lips as your lady maid opens the curtains too early once again.

“Good morning my lady” Mercy greets you.

“Morning Mercy” you sigh finally opening your eyes.

“How did you sleep?” She asks smiling at you.

“Fine” you sigh again sitting up rubbing your eyes.

“Well then, let’s get you bathed and dressed, I’m sure my lady is excited for this years social season” she grins much more happy than you are about this years season. You managed to miss a few social seasons, begging and possibly bribing your papa into letting you miss a few years, of course he cannot handle his darling daughters puppy dog eyes which might you add have perfected, though your mama wasn’t as happy at his caving than you were.

“Ecstatic” you mumble.

The social season, a time for parading, fluttering your eyelashes and fanning yourself oh so elegantly so that you may attract a suitor, what a stupid game. Being raised as a fine young lady of society this is what you’ve been preparing for your whole life and yet you’d rather dive into the river off the bridge that divides Piltover and Zaun. You wonder if you could sneak over without a guard noticing, maybe flutter your eyelashes and show a little skin, gods, the thought makes you want to gag. The dress your mama had bought for you is elegant and silky in looks, the cream fabric letting off a shine. Mercy has pinned your hair up nicely with a few small gemmed flowers and applied a lovely shade of rouge even if you despise the feel of it. Problem is, you feel horrible. Out of place, like you’re about to burst from the corset you’re wearing, you fear, if your breasts were pushed any higher they may indeed fall out the top of this dress. You prefer more covering dresses ones that don’t leave you so exposed even if nothing is truely exposed according to society.

“Would you stop adjusting yourself?” Your mama huffs at you slapping your hand from your dress. You sigh and look out the window to the carriage instead. Your papa gives you a brief smile which you return before the carriage slows and the great council palace looms above you. You never understood this part of the social season, presenting yourself to the council, an odd thing really, but here you are with the numerous amount of other ladies attending. The wait is what makes your hands clam in your gloves, standing there waiting for a guardsman to call your name so you can walk in, let the whole of Piltover judge you along with the council and leave, stupid. The dresses really are pretty though, similar in cream colours with gold accents or silver accents depending on the ladies, some even adorning rose gold or a darker silver. Trims of all different types from lace, flowers, gems, sequins or mixes, a long trail of material behind to add to the flare. You should feel pretty, your mama only goes to the best modiste and a glorious modiste she is at that, your body is just… a little heavier than it ought to be according to your mama. While you do so love sweets you rarely eat them anymore, the looks stopping you, the shame. You can’t ponder too long as your name is called, your mother gives you a nod, tells you to smile before the grand doors open. It feels like a rush of air, all the people, the faces the imposing table of the grand council. You forget to breathe as you walk, daring not to make any noise besides the movement of your dress. You approach their table, stand in the middle, Council woman Mel Medarda, Council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Council woman Shoola, Councilman Irius Bolbok, Councilman Torman Hoskel, Councilman Salo and their newest edition Councilman Jayce Talis man of progress, gods how you wish the ground would swallow you. Mel Medarda is known in your family, a friend even, you hope, she sits at the head of the table, offers you a smile before all the council men bow their head in respects and tradition before you’re practically running out of that horrid place.

The first soirée of the evening and your mother is already pointing out suitable (rich) bachelors, no thought for your feelings on the gentlemen’s frankly. Your father manages to steal her away and talk to the Kirammans, your mother does love bragging about her estate and wealth to even wealthier people. You manage to sneak to the side lines, dodging through ladies fawning and gentlemen sizing up this year’s newest editions. You however need out and somewhere quiet on the side lines to drink this horrid punch. You knock into someone along the way hearing an unceremonious clatter dulled by the music thankfully but not the nearby patrons.

“I’m so sorry” you bend down ungracefully just as your mother taught to you not too and pick up the gentlemen’s cane before standing back up and freezing. Duke Viktor, a man of progress, well known in his science and all of Piltover.

“I’m so sorry, My Duke” you now your head respectfully holding out his cane.

“It’s quite alright” he says and something about his voice makes you shiver. He takes his cane with long slender fingers and places it in the crook of his arm. He dismisses whoever he was speaking to with a wave of his hand his honey eyes still on you.

“Why is a lady such as yourself running from such festivities of a grand soirée?” He asks his finger lifting your chin so you look at him.

“I uh-“ you gulp a bit looking at the drink in your hand instead which thankfully you didn’t spill.

“Viktor!” You jolt at the sound of a loud voice and see Councilman Talis walking over.

“Councilman” Duke Viktor says nodding his head.

“Please, Viktor I’ve told you not to call me that” Councilman Talis chuckles before his eyes land on you.

“Ah, a lady! I apologise I did not realise you were preoccupied” The councilman smirks and you hear the annoyed sigh Duke Viktor gives his mouth opening before you cut in.

“That’s- I accidentally ran into the Duke, there was no conversation- I was just leaving” you nod quickly.

“Uh, goodnight” you nod again and rush off heart pounding in your chest unaware of the intrigued eyes that follow you.

Next part ->

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

papa, me want more yandere jjk zombie apocalypse!!!

no pressure tho lol love your writing

Me when someone calls me Papa:

But seriously thank you Hope you enjoy! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Zombie Apocalypse: Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen (3)

1  • 2

When you awaken it’s Nobara and Megumi who retrieve you for another tour

This time taking the time to let you partake in the activities with some of the residents

But it’s all to pass the time before Suguru comes to retrieve you

“Hey (Y/n) we have a few more tests to run and after that, I’ll let you go have fun with Satoru.”

Despite your reluctance to deal with the boisterous man you follow Suguru back to the lab where you first met him in

Chatting about anything you could 

“So I finally wanted to inform you about why you can’t go to the other neighborhood and why you have that wristband.”

“Finally! Even if I can’t be with them I want to see them still–”

“...(Y/n)...I’m so sorry.”

Setting you on the patient table Suguru informs you that your blood is the key to immunity against the zombie disease

Using some advanced technology to find you and put the wristband on you to label you among your group of friends

But that wasn’t all 

Holding you close he confides in you that in separate interviews your friend group had proven to be willing to go to extremes to get their hands on the cure

Said extremes were violent and alarming

all suggesting they’d abduct you and make you a living blood bag for them

It was actually not that far-fetched to you

You knew your friends were loosening their morals

You had to 

Especially after the betrayal from one of your members

It was likely that they may have come off that way

But you wonder if that would’ve applied to you as well

You really had no way of knowing

“(Y/n) I understand that this is difficult to take in…just know that me and Satoru are here for you. We’re going to protect you, no matter what.”

He was holding your chin as he looked into your eyes with promise

Letting him hold you in a hug

Suguru has a hard time holding in a smile that twitches widely on his face

After this Suguru takes the day off joining you to experience the different activities 

Satoru joined you both shortly thereafter

“Yay! My two favorite people are baking so adorably! It’d be a shame if someone came and tickled one of them relentlessly.”

“Sorry (Y/n).”

“Wait what—Ahhhh! Hahahaha!”

They’re pretty persistent when it comes to chasing away the thoughts of your friends possibly being as dangerous to you as they were to the zombies you’d been running from 

Enough for you to miss them when you once again say goodbye to Nobara and Megumi after they lead you to your room 

But before you can completely settle on your bed to sullenly stare at the ceiling the door to your room clicks open

“Heyyo you ready for me to show you what movies we’ve got? Of course, you are! C’mon, sweetcheeks!”

“Hope we didn’t wake you but we figured we’d hate to leave you alone.”

“Uh, thanks, you guys.”

“It’s no problem, the mind on its own is a scary place.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s why we’ll never let you go there! Now are you ready for the ultimate movie night? You’re not going to get a wink of sleep!”

That being said by the time the sun rose you were already resting on the couple your head in Satoru’s lap while Suguru held the rest of your body up

Completely oblivious to the second time the lock to your door opened up 

“You two look cozy!”

“Do not yell someone is clearly asleep.”

“So? I have the key to this door so it’s practically mine too.”

“The urge to decimate you always returns with a vengeance.”

“Ouch so cruel~!”

Suguru groaned and rolled his eyes at the both of them checking if you stirred at all

 while Satoru smiled at the blonde one of the duo only to receive an annoyed push of his glasses

“Nanamin you came back earlier than I expected.”

“Yes, my…partner took a very impulsive approach this time around.”

Suguru figured he’d chime in too, “Mahito did you bring any of them back alive?”

Mahito made a face putting a peace sign up as he posed mocking the anime signage now left as relics of the world before

“What do you think?”

“I don’t necessarily care, it’d just make things easier for them.”

“It is unbecoming of you to lie Doctor Geto.”

“Yeah, I could tell you were just itching to get your hands on those pigs!”

Suguru chuckled reaching to brush his hand against your cheek

“Maybe I was hoping to…enjoy a roast. It’s unfair if you’re the only one to enjoy the results of our labor.”

[thetreefairy]

Could you do another platonic yandere gojo where the reader refuses to call him papa or dad or sensei or anything after he kidnaps them so the reader just keeps calling him gojo? How would he react ?

Post mentioned : A purge with little chances

Warnings: yandere themes, manipulation, silent treatment, purge au, kinda angst? swearing, restraining, gojo hurts reader on purpose, not really explicit so-

Gn student reader, reader does have curly coded hair

Kofi - main masterlist

Dad loves you

Gojo had it all planned out, he would have an adorable child and Megumi would keep them company when he couldn't.

And after Reader's adaption period the other students would be able to visit them too, maybe even taking them out on trips with his other students.

But Reader wasn't doing what he planned,

to be fair, they were stuck on their bed with broken legs and needed to ask him for help on the most basic things. Which, in his mind, was holding back the adaption period.

Reader was quiet and loved being alone, something he found rather adorable.

But Reader still hasn't called him any variation of dad, and even stopped calling them sensei!

So today he got Megumi to come over and try to find out why Reader isn't calling him by his proper title as their yandere caretaker.

"Reader," Megumi started. "Wanna talk?"

Reader looked Megumi, giving him a side eye and ignoring him as well. Reader didn't have the energy to deal with them, they just couldn't.

This caused Gojo to walk over to their bed and pressing on their leg, causing Reader to gasp out in pain. "You will talk to Megumi," He hissed. "I'll go away for an hour, I expect Megumi to tell me how it went."

This caused Reader to glare at him, their eyes full with tears. "How about we do your hair, huh?" Megumi asked. "Teacher has no idea how to take care of it."

This caused Gojo to stick his tongue out as he left and shouted: "Be good!"

And that's how you were now being pampered by your old best friend while he was trying to convince you to at least call Gojo father. You just cried.

"I don't want to acknowledge him as my dad." Reader mumbled. "Teacher has been kind to you, so why don 't you want to?" Megumi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you stupid?" Reader hissed. "He took away my freedom, my choices, this bitch even fucked up my hair while i finally had some type of hair care!"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "You are so petty, you know that this is how the purge goes."

Reader gave him the middle finger, knowing full well he's saying that to pain Gojo in a good light.

And speaking of the devil

"Awhh, Megumi you got Reader's hair to look pretty!" Gojo greeted the two. "You should teach me sometime, or Reader can!"

Reader was still ignoring him, much to his annoyance, and from the look on Megumi's face. It wasn't gonna change soon, so perhaps he needed some drastic manners, maybe he should take away all their freedoms.

"Megumi, thank you for babysitting, I'll take it over." Megumi knew that look on Gojo's face. "Stay calm, they are simply acting out of frustation." Megumi whispered in Gojo's ear as he left.

But he didn't care anymore, he carried Reader to their bed, while their legs were healing, perhaps they shouldn't be. Maybe he should restrain Reader to the point they are nothing but a hopeless baby.

Maybe then they would call him dad or pa.

While reader was ignoring them, he decided to apply pressure to their legs rather severe. "Gojo- Stop!" Reader shouted, breaking their silence while holding back sobs. "Shh." He whispered, Reader was sure their legs broke again.

"Dad loves you, he's just doing this for your safety." He whispered in Reader's ear. "Dad will protect you."

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (8) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: sejanus crosses a line. 

word count: 5,961

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: scheming sejanus, jealous!coryo, angry!coryo, arguing, threats of execution, pet name (petal), not proofread

Thank you for the invitation. Though it was signed by Coryo, I imagine that you are the one who advocated for my presence at tonight’s opera. I appreciate that you hold our friendship in such high regard. That is why I write to you now. Ma has already confirmed our attendance for tonight, but I was hoping that I might be able to speak to you in private. During intermission, please meet me—

A knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. 

“Are you nearly ready?” your father asked from the other side of your door. 

“Just a moment more!” you called out, hurrying to return the letter to its envelope. You rose from your seat at the vanity, sparing a glance at your reflection to ensure nothing was out of place, before tucking the letter in your trunk at the end of your bed. 

When you reached your door, you took a breath. Your father was a perceptive man. If he saw your nerves were jumbled, he would have questions and you could not handle questions at this moment. 

Your father smiled as you opened the door. Then he frowned, glancing around the room behind you. “Where is your lady’s maid?”

“I dismissed her after I finished getting ready. I wanted some time to go through my correspondence.” It was perhaps best to tell the truth in that regard. What your father didn’t need to know what that you were just reading the one letter, over and over and over again, trying to surmise if it was real, if there was a trick being played against you. 

“I should hope you were not writing any replies. The last thing you need is to get ink everywhere.”

“No, Papa, I was only reading them and sorting out which ones needed to be replied to first.” Well, that was a lie. But it was harmless enough. You hoped. 

When you received Sejanus’s letter in the mail, it confused you. You were never the sort of friends that wrote to each other. It certainly would have been presumptuous if you had. But when you read the contents of the letter, learned of his proposed plan, it only served to confuse you further. You had spent the entire day reading the letter as your lady’s maid pinned your hair into an elaborate updo, applied your makeup, and even as you dressed. You were half sure that if you read it enough times, Sejanus himself might materialize to tell you it was all just a clever joke. That he didn’t really mean it. You knew Sejanus well enough, though, to know that he was quite serious about these sorts of things. 

Your father nodded, then extended his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his arm and allowed him to guide you downstairs. He was silent for a moment while you walked, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped. 

“Is there something wrong?” you asked. Had he already caught on to your ruse? Would he demand to see the letters and know that there was only one? Would he tell Snow? 

“I wanted to thank you for your cooperation,” he said. “I know this match was not what you hoped it to be, but I swore when you were born that I would do everything in my power to ensure that you are taken care of for life. You may not have gotten the love match you wished for, but you will be marrying into a reputable family with the resources available to provide you the best life imaginable. His Majesty will take care of you. He will be a good husband to you.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

He sniffed, then conceded, “No, I suppose I don’t. But His Majesty was incredibly persistent. He had been asking for your hand for some time—”

“What?”

He blinked, as if he was surprised you didn’t know. But how could you? How could you have known? “When you graduated from the Academy, he asked for your hand. I suppose he hoped for you to join him on base while he served as a Peacekeeper. That certainly wouldn’t have been an appropriate life for you, so I told him no. Then when he returned, he asked again. I told him I wished to see him prove himself to be a worthy husband for you. I never imagined that he would become King, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise. A welcome one, really, all things considered. Just before the season began this year, he asked again. I had no reason to tell him no, except that I wished for him to properly court you before we reached any firm agreement.”

You did the math in your head. If what your father said was true… “I’m four and twenty. If he has been asking since I graduated, then he has wanted to marry me for five years.”

“Longer, I presume. He already had a ring when he asked for your hand the first time.” He looked down at your hand. “The same one, if memory serves well. Cleaner, though.”

That…You didn’t know what to do with that. How long had Snow been vying for your attention? Even with Sejanus’s revelation that Snow’s feelings for you had been genuine, you assumed it was a recent development. Certainly not something that extended back to your schooldays. Had the bickering always been one-sided? No, that couldn’t be…

“We hated each other in school. We tormented each other,” you said, more to yourself than your father. 

But he laughed as if you spoke to him. “Sometimes, boys are mean to the girls they are interested in. Any attention is better than no attention, in their eyes.”

“I don’t know what to do with this,” you admitted. 

“Know that you will be loved. I have never seen any man be so dedicated to something, someone, for it not to be done out of love.”

Downstairs, the butler announced Snow’s arrival. Snow entered the room, his blue eyes immediately finding yours. Your father moved to start down the stairs, but you remained planted firmly in place. A question nagged at your mind. If Snow had been asking for your hand for five years…

“Why did you act like I had to convince Snow to marry me when the season started? If you all but promised him my hand?”

His eyebrows raised. “My little dove, you have never done what you were told. If I said that you were to be wed to His Majesty, you would have all but runaway to avoid it.”

“But why act like it was my responsibility to get his attention? To throw myself at his feet when he already wanted to marry me?”

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, he settled on, “If you thought that you were serving your family by pursuing His Majesty, I had hoped that you would have seen his intentions were pure and good. It might not have been a love match in the traditional sense, but it would not have been a loveless arrangement.”

Nothing, you thought, about Snow was pure and good. “My fate was already set in stone. It didn’t matter what I did, you would have married me off regardless.”

“Don’t put it like that, little dove—”

You dropped your father’s arm, gathered your skirts, and walked down the stairs alone as Snow moved to wait for you at the bottom. A smile grew on his face as he watched you. It looked so genuine. You supposed it was. 

Snow held his arm out to you as you reached the last few steps. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you down the final steps, before holding onto his bicep when you reached the ground floor.

“I like that color on you,” he said, eyeing the blue fabric. 

“You should. It took Tigris hours to find the shade closest to your eyes.” Your mother was insistent that, as the future Queen, you should build your wardrobe to complement your future husband as much as possible. 

“I shall send her my compliments then. Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded. 

“Good. We shall be riding alone this evening. Will that be alright?”

It wouldn’t have mattered if it did. Everyone else in your life was making decisions for you. Choosing what was best for you without ever asking what you wanted. What you desired. But you were angry at your father. Angry at both of your parents, because you were sure your mother knew something about this, too. Angry that they both would keep this from you instead of just telling you that you were to marry the King. You might have respected their decision more if they had. 

“I should kill my parents if I have to spend a moment with them tonight.”

Snow blinked. “Should I be concerned?”

“If you value your life, then you shouldn’t be.”

At that, Snow let out a huff of a laugh. “To kill the King would be treason.”

“Is a threat worth the same weight?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Then string me up at the gallows.”

He shook his head at you. He looked amused, like he didn’t take your words seriously. He probably thought you were just bickering to get on his nerves like you always did. “I would make an exception for you, petal.”

You turned your head, looking back up at your father, who still stood at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded. You turned back to Snow. “I wouldn’t kill you, for what it’s worth. As it turns out, you are the only person who has been honest with me recently.”

A frown settled on Snow’s face. “Is everything alright?”

You rolled your tongue over your teeth, contemplating whether you should tell him or not. It would be nice to vent, even to someone like Snow. But you didn’t wish to do it in front of your father, the source of your ire. And you weren’t sure you wouldn’t cry if you did talk about it. “I don’t wish to ruin my evening any further. Shall we go?”

Snow looked you over. Seeing nothing that would demand his immediate concern, he said, “We shall. But if you change your mind…”

“I will tell you if I do.”

The ride to the opera house was quiet. You weren’t sure if Snow was silent because he was giving you the space you asked for, or if he was concerned that your ire might soon turn on him. But he held your hand the entire time, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. Ordinarily, you would have been annoyed at the action. It was merely another way for Snow to exert a level of control over you. This time, however, it brought you some modicum of comfort. 

“I invited the Plinths per your request,” he murmured.

That should have lifted your spirts, but it only made your stomach churn. You couldn’t let Snow know that, of course. As hard as you fought for the Plinths’ presence, he would be less than pleased if you revealed you wished he hadn’t extended the invitation. “Thank you.” You squeezed his hand, more for your comfort than his own. “I appreciate that.”

Even if you didn’t appreciate it in the moment, you probably would appreciate his willingness to abide by your wishes in the future (though, you supposed you did have to coerce him to do it). 

Snow smiled and squeezed your hand back. “And I appreciate your vivaciousness. Even if it makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“That would be a shame,” you said before you could really think. 

“What?”

Well, you already got this far. You might as well finish the thought. “The nicest part about you is your hair. If you pulled it all out, you wouldn’t have anything going for you.”

Snow laughed—a genuine laugh. “If my hair is the key to gaining your affections, then I shall be sure to not pull it out.”

You laughed, too. It was…odd. How light you felt with Snow now. Though you still objected to how he asked for your hand, how your father gave you no choice in this matter, it was different knowing that Snow might not be doing all of this as some way to spite you. To get back at you for all the fights you had with him over the years.

The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper. If Snow found out about Sejanus’s letter, Sejanus’s plan, you could not imagine it ending well. Any semblance of goodwill he held for you could be ruined in a matter of minutes. Would you be set up for a miserable marriage if you withheld the information from him? 

“Snow, I—”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Your words died in your throat as the door opened. Snow stepped out first, then held a hand out for you to take. He helped you out of the carriage, his hands settling on your waist as you gained your footing. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling. 

As you moved to take Snow’s arm, he asked, “Would you like to wait for your parents or would you like to go our seats?”

You glanced back, seeing your family carriage in the distance. The idea of seeing your father again made you grind your teeth together. “Let’s go inside.”

Snow led you to one of the Lord’s Rooms where you would sit in the upper balcony of the opera house. It had been some years since you had been able to sit in one of the Lord’s Rooms. Since your time at the Academy, you supposed. These seats were saved for the upper echelon of the Capital’s elite. While your parents certainly were wealthy and titled, they could not quite afford such expensive seats. Truthfully, for a long time after the war ended, only the King and some dukes could afford it. It was only in recent years that marquesses, earls, and viscounts could begin sitting there again. 

You took a seat front and center of the Lord’s Room, Snow taking the seat to your left. A smile tugged at his face as you tried to not let your jaw fall slack. 

“Are you pleased with the seats, petal?” he asked. 

“It’s perfect,” you admitted, because it was. 

When you looked over at him, his smile had grown, his chest ever so slightly puffed out. Oh, he was proud of himself for this. You supposed he should be. If he had been vying for your attention for as long as your father insinuated, you imagined there was no limit to the lengths Snow would go to make you happy. 

“Good.”

You were curious, though, to the lengths that Snow would go. “What would you have done if I was displeased?”

“Erect an opera house to your exact specifications.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. To suggest such a thing was absurd. You were an intelligent young woman to be sure, but you hardly had the education required to design an opera house that both functioned as necessary and would not topple over in a gust of wind. “Then we should be thankful I am content here or else we might have to test the limits to the royal family’s protection from liability.”

Snow waved that off, though he still smirked at you referring to yourself as part of the royal family. “I would send anyone who would even think to sue you to the gallows.”

“So protective,” you teased. There was silence, for a moment, as you looked at Snow. Conversation was flowing easily, with none of its usual bite. Perhaps talking about your conversation with your father would be nice. To at least alleviate the stress you carried in your shoulders. “I am upset with my papa because of you.”

And that, perhaps, was the worst way to begin the conversation when you saw the way Snow’s smile turned into a frown. Oh dear, he probably thought you were trying to pick a fight. “I beg your pardon?”

“What I mean to say is, at the beginning of the season, when it was announced you were seeking a bride, my papa told me that I had to do whatever it took to win you over, even sacrifice my ideals. He made it seem as if it was something I had to do for the family. I refused, of course, but that did nothing to stop you from seeking me out. I wondered why for a long while, spent a long time convinced it was because you were trying to get back at me for all our quibbles over the years. But then I remembered Sejanus had told me that you were interested in me when we were children.”

Snow’s jaw ticked at the mention of Sejanus, so you quickly continued before he could spit some vitriol about your shared friend (for now, at least). 

 “That made no sense to me at the time he told me, of course, but the longer we courted, it started to feel real. Then, this evening, my papa told me that you had asked for my hand three times before. That you fought with me because you liked my attention, not necessarily because you had substantial disagreement with me. And when I asked, he said he lied to me about my needing to sacrifice my ideals to win you over, because he knew that I was already going to be your bride by the end of the season. I cannot respect a man who withholds things from me.”

“I apologize if I disrespected you, but—”

“Not you, my papa. It is clear now that, as far as this season was concerned, you had always made your intentions known. I can admire that. But my papa…I don’t know if I can trust him again. Or my mama, because I am sure she knew something about it, too.”

Snow considered you for a moment, before admitting, “If I had known you were kept in the dark, I would have told you. I assumed you knew I had spoken with your father and that that was part of the reason you kept fighting me. Telling me that you would rather marry anyone else but me.”

“No, I was, for once, clueless.”

He reached over for your hand. You allowed him to take it. “Well, you can rest assured that I will not let you be clueless as long as I can help it. We are to be partners in this marriage. There is no one that I could trust more to run this kingdom and raise our family than you.”

Your stomach twisted. All of this talk of honesty…It made you feel ill. You knew you should tell Snow about Sejanus’s letter. If he ever found out, any trust he had in you would easily be broken. You imagined he would lock you away in the palace, never let you see anyone but the staff and the heirs he would have you produce. And Sejanus…You shuddered at the idea of what Snow would do to him. It would make isolation look kind, you were sure. 

Knowing you had no other choice, you tried again to tell him. “Snow, I wish to tell you one more thing—”

You were cut off by the sound of Sejanus greeting you and Snow. You prayed you did not look as ill as you felt. 

“You look radiant this evening,” Sejanus said to you as he came to your side. Oh, Sejanus, he should not say those sorts of things. Not in front of Snow. Not when you knew how he felt. 

Snow rose to his feet, dropping your hand. It was the polite thing to do as a gentleman, but you knew it was more a power play than anything else. And, though Sejanus towered over Snow, something about the way Snow held himself made him seem like the giant. “She does, doesn’t she? It must be the pre-marital bliss.”

You ignored Snow. Well, if you couldn’t tell Snow about the letter now, you might as well make polite conversation until the next opportunity arose. “Thank you, my lord. You look quite dashing yourself. Did Tigris design your suit?”

“She did,” he beamed. Oh, Sejanus, don’t smile at you like that. “She is the only one I trust to not make me look like a fool.”

“Funny,” Snow muttered. 

You looked at him, your brows furrowed together. Was he trying to suggest Sejanus was a fool? Did Snow know something you didn’t? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he somehow already know of the letter? “What is?”

Snow blinked, as if he hadn’t expected you to hear him. A smile twitched at his lips. “You had said something similar, once.”

“Ah. Well, she is the best. Many people feel quite strongly over her,” you said. You smoothed a wrinkle on your dress. All of the kind talk between you and Coryo made you feel uneasy now that Sejanus was here. “It must be infuriating to know people like Tigris while they tolerate you.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Sejanus chided as Snow’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Don’t join in on the teasing. It will only make things worse. 

“But it’s so easy.”

Sejanus took the seat to your right. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Snow’s hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself from lashing out at Sejanus. Knowing that no one could see your face but Snow and Sejanus, you allowed yourself to roll your eyes. The corner of Sejanus’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. In any other circumstance, you might have been laughing with him at Snow’s expense. This all felt too confusing for you—something you would rather attempt to process in private rather than search your feelings in the moment. So you moved to the edge of your seat, propping your arm against the railing, leaning your cheek against your palm. Snow, as he sat back down, reached for your other hand, and you allowed him to take it. Jealous little thing, he was. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. 

The performance soon began with little more spoken between you, Snow, and Sejanus. Mostly talks about your upcoming nuptials, which made it feel like a knife was being twisted in your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Sejanus was trying to be cruel. Sejanus, though, was something of an angel, and you were sure he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Perhaps that was why you were so nervous about this. You knew how Snow would read Sejanus’s actions. You knew it would be far from good. 

You tried to push those thoughts away as the performers sang. It had been so long since you had been able to go to the opera, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. Snow would likely bring you to more performances, but just in case, you wanted to have fun while you could. Yet, Sejanus could not leave your mind. He felt entirely too close. It was almost suffocating. And when you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you saw the way his hand was placed on the arm of his chair, his palm face up, you felt ill. 

So ill, you could not stand it. 

When you dropped Snow’s hand, moving to leave the Lord’s Room, Snow rose to his feet. “Is everything alright, petal?”’

“I’m not feeling well. I just need to step outside for a moment,” you said. 

Sejanus, too, stood. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, don’t do that. Don’t give Snow anymore reason to get upset or concerned.

You waved Sejanus off. “It’s too stuffy in here. I just need a moment.”

Snow watched you, his brows pinched together. You again wondered if he could read your mind, if he knew what you knew. Or perhaps he was acting as if he cared in his own weird way, trying to ascertain if he needed to go with you just in case this was something more serious. “If you wish to leave early, we can. I don’t want you to feel as if we must stay even if you are ill.”

Don’t be kind. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t believe it’s that serious. Please, sit. I shall be back before you can even think to miss me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Snow sat down. Sejanus remained standing, watching as you turned to leave. It was not until you left the Lord’s Room, sparing a glance over your shoulder, that you saw Sejanus sit down, too.

It was easier to breathe outside of the room. Not much by much, but certainly easier. Being sat between Snow and Sejanus, even if had been something of your own doing, had become something of a personal hell. Damn Sejanus. Damn him. This evening wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a nice evening at the opera. You were supposed to get on Snow’s nerves. You were supposed to laugh with Sejanus and not worry about his insane ideas. It was supposed to be nice, not…whatever it was about to become. 

You found a somewhat secluded area of the foyer and leaned against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. You did not know if Snow or Sejanus or both would follow you. If they did, you worried about the other people who were invited eavesdropping on the conversation, realize that there was more than meets the eye regarding your betrothal to Snow. Oh, you would not be able to handle that scandal. 

After a minute or two, the sound of the opera singer ringing in the background, you pushed yourself off the wall. It had been long enough that Snow would become concerned and come looking for you. And it was close enough to intermission that Sejanus—

“You look like you’ve seen death.”

You sucked in a breath. “You need to leave.”

Sejanus stepped closer to you. Too close. He reached out, brushing a loose curl away from your face. You fought the urge to flinch away. “We can go—”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You cannot truly believe I would leave with you, can you? Sejanus, Snow is the King. He would do everything in his power, utilize every resource at his disposal, to find us and bring us straight to the Capital. You would lose your head, and I would never see daylight again.”

“That should not matter if we love each other. We could find somewhere no one could ever find us. We could live a life all of our own, never have to worry about anything else.”

“But I don’t love you.” 

“Coryo told me that you would rather marry me. That you thought I am an easy man to love. Is that not enough?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. It was so hard to look at him and not cry. Why was he making this so difficult? Why was he putting you in this position? “I might have loved you. In a different life, maybe. But I do not feel what you feel for me. I will not risk my life and yours for a maybe.”

“But you will risk a life of unhappiness with Coryo?”

Why did no one listen to you? 

Why did no one care to ask you what you wanted and actually listen? 

“It is not as if Snow hates me. He cares, in his own way. Even if he shows it in his strange ways. I would want for nothing with him.”

“Can you love him?” Sejanus stepped even closer to you. He cupped your face in his hands. You squeezed your eyes tighter. “Tell me you will be happy with him, and I will leave you alone. I won’t bring this up ever again. I will leave—”

Sejanus was ripped away from you before he could finish speaking. Your eyes flew open. What was happening? Why—

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Snow’s face was blood red, his knuckles nearly matching as he gripped Sejanus’s jacket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat. 

“Coryo, I—”

“You said you didn’t wish to marry her. You said you wouldn’t try to take her from me. Was that a life? Were you trying to catch me with my guard down? What happened to not wanting to hurt me?”

“Please—” 

You had never seen Snow so angry in all your life. Not even when you would spend every day at the Academy arguing with him. Not even when you had told him that you considered marrying Sejanus. Was Snow going to hurt Sejanus? He looked angry enough to kill. You couldn’t let that happen. 

“Snow—” you tried to say, but he did not hear you. 

“I should have the Peacekeepers drag you through the streets, throw you in a cell, and let you rot. I should have you executed,” Snow hissed. “This is treason.”

“Please, Snow—” you tried again. 

You tried to think. Tried to figure out something, anything, to say that could quell Snow’s anger. But you couldn’t even get through to him. It’s like he didn’t even realize you were speaking to him. Oh, what could you say?

“I should make your execution a fucking spectacle. I should make everyone watch as you are hung—”

“Coryo, stop!”

Snow’s head snapped to you. His pale blue eyes looked you up and down, as if he was trying to determine if he should direct his ire to you. He let go of Sejanus’s jacket with a push. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have made Sejanus stumble, but the sheer weight of everything brought the man tumbling down. Snow took a step towards you, his voice dangerously low as he asked, “Why should I?”

“I was telling him no. I don’t want to go with him,” you said, careful not to say Sejanus’s name. Saying his name in ordinary circumstances drove Snow insane. You hated to imagine what he might do if you did so now. He might just kill Sejanus with his bare hands. His hands. You glanced down, then reached for one of Snow’s hands. It was clenched into a fist, but he allowed you to open his hand, intertwine your fingers with his own. “I want to marry you, Coryo. I want to be your wife.”

Snow stared at your connected hands. He squeezed your hand. It looked like he couldn’t believe this was real. “He followed you out here. Were you planning to run away?”

You couldn’t lie to him. Not now. “He sent a letter this morning. He wanted to run away at intermission, when it was easy to disappear in a crowd. I…I tried to tell you, before he arrived this evening. I never intended to go with him.”

“He followed you.”

I didn’t ask him to, you wanted to say. But you knew that wouldn’t do anything to diminish Snow’s anger. Instead, you said, “I wish you followed me instead.”

When Snow looked at you, you could see his eyes softened ever so slightly. “I thought you might want some space.”

Though you did not wholly believe in what you were saying, you knew it was working to calm him down. “All I want is you, Coryo.”

For a second, a smile began to tug at Snow’s lips. But it vanished all too quick as he heard Sejanus begin to rise to his feet. “He needs to be punished.”

“Don’t have him killed.” When Snow’s eyes narrowed, you quickly added, “I don’t want the death of your friend, your best friend, to weigh heavily on your conscious. I-I know you’re upset now, rightfully so, but that should not mean you send him to the gallows.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed your words. “Then what do you suggest I do? If we are to be partners in life, you shall have a say in carrying out punishments.”

Oh, he was being cruel. Perhaps rightfully so. Snow would not harm you physically, but he would not be so above hurting you emotionally. You had not told him about the letter, and in his eyes, you were sure that put you on a similar level of treason as Sejanus’s actions. 

You fought the urge to look at Sejanus. “He shall enlist in the Peacekeepers,” you decided. “You can ensure he has an assignment far away from the Capital. Give him time to consider his betrayal.”

Snow said nothing. You worried he would dismiss your suggestion and call for the Peacekeepers anyways. That he would force you to watch as Sejanus was hung. You stepped closer, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Coryo?”

When you pulled away, Snow was blinking a mile a minute. You prayed that was enough to convince him, to show him that you were loyal to him. To spare Sejanus’s life.

“Go,” Snow spat at Sejanus. 

Sejanus gave a shaky nod. He dared to look at you, his mouth beginning to open. Whatever he intended to say, though, was lost. 

“If you are going to say anything, it should be to express your gratitude to her for sparing you from an execution.”

Sejanus swallowed. “Thank you.”

“If I learn that you have not enlisted by morning, however, I will follow through with stringing you up at the gallows.”

Sejanus nodded again and quickly left before more could be said. For his sake, you prayed he went straight to the enlistment offices. You weren’t sure if they were open at this time of night, but if he went now, he might be able to enlist first thing in the morning when they did open. 

You let your head fall against Snow’s chest. His heart thump’d, thump’d, thump’d quickly. You wound your arms around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. And as he hugged you back, you added, “And I apologize for not telling you of his plans. I…I didn’t think he would be so foolish to try to follow through on them. Or, I suppose, I hoped he wouldn’t.”

“You truly wouldn’t have left with him?”

“I only want a life with you, Coryo. You…may not be an easy man to love, but that does not mean I cannot love you.” Maybe if you said it enough times, you mused, it would become true. 

Snow pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I want to move up the wedding date.”

You shut your eyes. “You’ll work poor Tigris to the bone trying to finish my gown in time,” you tried to tease. Your heart wasn’t quite in it. 

“You could show up at the altar in a dressing gown for all I care. I don’t want anyone else trying to steal you away before I can make you mine.”

If this was the sort of anger you would have to grapple with should anyone else try— “Nor do I.” You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. A print of your lipstick left behind a stain. “I truly am sorry, Coryo.”

Maybe if you called him by his pet name enough times, he would forget this ever happen. 

“Don’t let it happen again.”

As you stood there in his tight embrace, people began spilling out into the foyer. Intermission, it seemed, had arrived. And not a single one of them were aware of events that just transpired. 

How lucky they were. 

[academyofbrokenhearts]

I have finally finished reading Blossom. Happy ending in the novel too, although a lot of things were vastly different; the main couple, of course, remained superior until the end.

Things we got in the novel that I am glad didn't make it into the series:

Dou Zhao, an adult woman, scheming and navigating complex familial relationships while in a two year old, then a five year old body. I get how it might be interesting for some, but it was incredibly boring for me, and since she managed to neutralise her stepmother quite early on, I saw no need to spend so much time watching her building up and managing relationships with everyone in the Dou family. Moreover, I am glad that the size of the family was trimmed down (I still can't make sense of all the relationships presented in the novel) and some characters were changed compared to how they were in the novel; it was amazing to see Grandma, who had been only a concubine in the book (and therefore couldn't even be called Grandma by Dou Zhao according to customs, let alone have any kind of power), turning into a formidable matriarch, and it was also cool to see Zhao Zhangru as the constant sidekick;

no Song Mo until 114 chapters in. I must confess that my main fascination in both the series and the novel was the relationship between the mains, and the fact that he is only mentioned once or twice before his first dramatic appearance was definitely not enough for me;

way too much time spent on side characters; like I said in a previous post, did I really need to know in detail how Suxin and Sulan ended up serving Dou Zhao? And it felt even more useless since in the novel they end up getting married and leaving the Song Manor, and only getting mentioned in passing from that moment on;

Things I wish would have made it into the series, but did not (and some of them could have never made it, unless the entire censorship board would have been in a coma):

all the sexual encounters between Song Mo and Dou Zhao. Like in the series, the start of their physical intimacy is quite slow, they don't consummate during their wedding night (but unlike in the series, it's not because she prepares a period PowerPoint presentation, it's simply because he knows the next days as newlyweds will be tiring, and just wants to allow them to rest). Unlike in the series, no one is cockblocking Song Mo (in fact, their subordinates are even alarmed at the lack of consummation), and when he decides to make a move on Dou Zhao, he does it, and no one dares to interrupt. They make love quite regularly from that moment on, and I like how Dou Zhao's reluctance is gradually melting away, and how the novel is clearly stating that she enjoys the encounters just as much as he does, and even becomes bold enough to initiate later on;

them being parents. I know we get that one cute scene with their daughter at the end of the series, but Song Mo is such a good dad and husband in the novel, constantly prioritising Dou Zhao's comfort and being just as involved in the child's rearing as she is (to the point that their son learns to say Papa before Mama). I surely wish we would have seen more of that in the series.

Song Yichun does not die in the novel. He is, in a delightful twist of fate, forced to expel Song Han from the family, a treatment he had hoped to apply to Song Mo, and is left disabled after Song Han attacks him. Moreover, the daughter he had switched at birth with Song Han is discovered alive, Song Mo takes her under his protection, and she gets married and lives happily. I surely wish karma would have hit the old man in the face like this in the series as well.

Other things that got changed which I am fairly neutral about:

Song Mo and Dou Zhao's backgrounds in life 1. I have to say I loved how the series made it crystal clear that life 1 was an utterly doomed timeline, with both of them being betrayed and ultimately killed, while the entire country was burning. Life 1 in the novel was bleak in a different, more subtle, way. Dou Zhao dies after a long illness, almost completely devoid of any human warmth - the novel tells us that both her sons with Wei Tingyu are distant, as a result of her being too busy with household matters to be able to form a bond with them, and the only warmth she gets is from her daughter, a child she had after forcing herself to have sex with her husband once more (she had trauma from miscarriage), hoping she could get pregnant again and alleviate her loneliness somewhat. And Song Mo, unlike in the series, is a very powerful figure after the coup, but is perceived as merciless (having slaughtered both his father and brother), cynical (he never finds out the truth about his uncle's death, and never bothers to) and, in the end, utterly, utterly alone;

the dynamic between them after the rebirth. Unlike in the series, where they forged a bond in life 1 which was the basis for their relationship as adults in life 2, in the novel they meet as teenagers (when he is 13 and she is 14), and he is more or less smitten from the beginning, whereas she fears and despises him at first, gradually starting to understand him the more their paths cross. While in the series, they are already both in love by the time she accepts his proposal (having gone through a lot of adventures together that strengthened their bond), in the novel, he is the one with the huge crush, while she accepts his proposal for more pragmatic reasons, trusting that he is capable and will support her in the way Wei Tingyu was unable to. But the attraction between them is mutual, and I really liked watching her slowly but surely falling in love with him due to his constant care and attention towards her;

Song Mo is way more calculated in the novel than in the series, where he's simply feral and would wreak havoc at any given moment were it not for Dou Zhao and her more sensible approaches. It makes for an interesting dynamic in the series, where they pretty much compliment each other, but I must confess I loved his scheming and 5D chess playing in the novel;

Dou Ming's entire character. Unlike in the series, which presented a nature versus nurture situation, with Dou Ming being shrewd in life 1 after being raised by her mother, and a sweet, innocent girl in life 2, as a result of not being raised by her mother, in the novel, Dou Ming exhibits jealousy from an early age, and constantly feels inferior, which ultimately results in her taking Dou Zhao's place as Wei Tingyu's wife. Their marriage is unhappy, as, just like in the series, he is not very smart and doesn't like facing difficulties. Unlike in the series, she doesn't die (she's too petty to die), but it's clear by the time she makes her last appearance in the novel that her life is miserable, and there is no chance of improvement;

Wang Yingxue is not even half as cunning and manipulative as her series counterpart; she fails to charm Dou Shiying in any meaningful way (he is never in love with her and only wants to take her as a concubine because they had a sexual encounter while he was drunk, and he wants to save face) and ultimately she pushes him away, becomes a pariah in the family and is sent to a country estate to die forgotten by everyone, including her daughter;

Miao Ansu has a completely different familial background and no connection to Dou Zhao prior to her marriage with Song Han. She's also far from being the timid forest creature the series portrays her as;

Song Han manages to be somehow even more awful than his series counterpart. Not only is he not in love with Miao Ansu, he also lacks any kind of respect for her, which ultimately pushes her to align with Dou Zhao and Song Mo, and initiate his downfall. His death is not described in the novel, but it is heavily implied.

Overall, while there were a lot of things I liked about the book, I think I prefer the pacing of the series way more. Also, the series got a "will they get their happily ever after, won't they?" feeling with the poison subplot that the novel lacked until very close to the end (when Dou Zhao is almost taken hostage during the palace coup). The royals are awful as hell in both iterations, the injustice never really gets solved (in my opinion, the Emperor was also very much to blame for Jiang Meisun's death, not only the scheming Empress), but at least the lovely main couple lives happily ever after.

Would I rather recommend the book or the series? Honestly, probably the series, but the Song Mo/Dou Zhao dynamic is lovely in the novel as well, and, if nothing else, those passages about their relationship are definitely worth reading.

[youareiron-andyouarestrong]

Ooh if you’re still in your jyncass era prayer beads for the November prompts? If not feel free to apply to any pairing you like

Kassa remembers Mami's beads.

A multi-strand bracelet wrapped around her wrist, made out of smooth, dark brown wood, each one lovingly carved by Kassa's bisabuelo, handed down from father to father to daughter. Each one knotted on the long, tough fibers they used to weave their cloaks. Mami would thumb off each bead and say, Stella. Benedicíon. Rosa. Teo. Benedicíon.

Depending on the family, some bead strings would have twenty, thirty, maybe even forty. Kassa's family was the only one in the whole village that had fifty-five. He'd been so proud of that, fifty-five ancestors, and each name spoken like a blessing.

The beads were beautiful, but they weren't meant for just prayer. Mami could flick her wrist and snap them out like a whip; wrap them twice around an opponent's neck before they could make a step towards her. Once they were older, Mami had promised to teach him and Kerri how to use them. The day the Imperials came to Kenari, Mami had unwound the beads from where they lived around her wrist, and prayed through gritted teeth: "Franco. Ayúdanos." Franco had been the name of Kassa and Kerri's abuelo. That's when Kassa truly understood the trouble they were in. You only ever called upon the ancestors if you were in the direst need.

Mama had been wearing the beads when she and Papa had been killed. Kassa had unwrapped the beads from around her wrist and taken them back to the remains of the village, now the camp where and all the other children and teenagers slept. Between him and Kerri, they slept with them shared in their clenched fists every night.

He'd given the beads to Kerri right before he left for salvage. Mostly to stop her fussing at him for going out and leaving her, again, but also because he was the oldest, and that meant, Papa told him often enough, making sacrifices. For your sister, mijo. A calloused, gnarled hand, but still so strong, gently ruffled his hair. He'd wrapped them around his sister's wrist and said, "Keep them safe for me, si?" She nodded solemnly, awed by the responsibility.

He never saw those beads again.

/

Cassian didn't touch the beads, Jyn noticed.

They jumbled together in the trappings of a cover identity Command had worked out for them, a laborer couple out to make a few credits in an Imperial factory. The quartermaster had given them a hastily assembled bundle of clothing, accessories and other such things and Cassian had looked barely concealed disapproval. "It's got to have continuity," he muttered, going through the mismatched contents of their go bags.

Jyn followed his example, but honestly, she didn't really care. She learned how to make do with almost nothing in the last fifteen years. Being handed an entire bag worth of clothes, shoes and gear felt like the height of luxury. The beads slipped out of the tangle of items, falling amongst the scarves and layers they'd been given. Jyn was surprised--jewelry wasn't common item in the quartermaster's supplies--but Cassian saw them and just--stopped, for a second. As if recalling something.

"Oh," he said, looking at the beads. "Where did--?" he looked around the bunk where their items had been laid out by the two of them. "Did those come with the clothes?"

"They did," Jyn confirmed. "Do you know what they're supposed to be?"

Cassian paused, still looking at the beads, his normally quick hands still. "They're--they're an ancestor strand. Or beads. Each bead means a family member who came before you."

Jyn glanced down at the necklace. There had to be at least thirty beads on the cord. "Did this belong to someone?"

"It must've," Cassian said, his tone oddly blank. "Most--most of the effects are donated, or--if a member of the Rebellion is killed in action...they're asked, beforehand, if they want their personal effects want to be donated to the stores so it can be reused or repurposed, or sent back to their families, if we can manage it. Most choose to donate."

Jyn's hand closed around her kyber crystal unthinkingly. Each bead on the strand meant someone's family. Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles. Grandparents. "Then...whoever this belonged to..."

"They might not have had family to send it back to," Cassian said. His voice was quiet now, just stating a fact they knew all too well.

The beads lay on the bunk innocuously. Each one had been carefully, precisely carved. Dark brown wood, well-polished from years of use. "Do--do you want them?" Jyn asked uncertainly. She didn't think it would be right for her to use them.

Cassian looked at the beads. His voice grew strange, distant. "My family had a strand of beads like this. Fifty-five on a cord. " He gave himself a slight shake and carefully picked it up, wrapped it multiple times around his wrist. His movements looked like something he had seen done a dozen different times. "It will come in handy if others have them," he told Jyn, steady again. "That way they can recognize us as someone they can trust."

Jyn nodded slowly, seeing the sense of that. They gleamed on Cassian's wrist, an unbroken line. "Who will they be?" she asked. "The beads?"

Cassian glanced down at his wrist. "They'll be my family," he said simply. "Everyone who came before me, and..." he glanced at Jyn, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. "Everyone's who with me now."

That pleased Jyn inordinately, so she ducked her head to hide her own small smile.

[greedyhoneyz]

Dance Of The Little Swans

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: dad!kylian mbappe x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: two little ducklings have bloomed into swans.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: fluff. lots of fluff.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･authors note: this is a lengthy one. im not really happy with this might rewrite but enjoy anyways!

“Stay still, sweetheart.” (name) affirmed softly. The digits of her fingers carefully carved over her daughter’s head, applying as little pressure as she could, to fix the little hairs fighting the gel she had applied to her coily hair.

Perched on her knees, (name) rigidly groomed her daughter to swanlike perfection. Littered at her feet were hair products, combs, makeup palettes and glitter. Once fresh out of the packet— all items alike had been battered beyond recognition for today’s recital.

Giving her daughter a once-over, her gentle eyes frantically searched over her face and tutu, (name) helped her down from her chair.

“There,” she whispered, her fingers tenderly picking out her tutu. “All done.”

With bright eyes and a smile stretching from ear to ear, Maya waddled towards her sister.

“Rena,” she shrieked excitedly, catching her sister’s attention. Seated in her grandma’s lap, Rena fixed her gaze to her twin, her curious fingers caught between her hair. “Do I look pretty?”

Rena blinked blankly at her sister and pondered only for a few seconds before an identical smile painted her features. She nodded frantically and wiggled free from her grandma’s lap, and met her sister half way to respond in a tone similar to her sister’s. “You look like me!”

Maya squealed with delight, pulling her sister’s hands into her own and bounced ecstatically, her tutu fluttering in the air.

Standing back on her two feet, (name) brushed away the dirt on her pants. She pulled at her top, stretching out its creases and smiled warmly at her mother-in-law.

Backstage, frantic mothers and their daughters— nervous or scared, sat amongst each other. The twins were the latter.

They were excited.

Perhaps, it was the comfort and safety that came with having another half that flushed away any fear or fright they would have felt. Needless to say, (name) was glad she wasn’t wiping away tears.

Though, there was a lingering spec of jealousy that stinged (name’s) heart— she envied the fondness the twins had for each other, she never had that as a young dancer.

Wiping her hands clean from gel residue, (name) cooed her daughters over. “Girls,”

Hand in hand, the twins rushed towards her, peering up at her with smiles stretching from ear to ear.

Crouching down, (name) grabbed their hands. She engulfed their hands into her palms, squeezing it tight and beamed. She took in the sight of her children, the glee that transformed their features and blew a breath. “Are you two excited?”

“Yes!” The twins shook their heads happily.

“Okay, do you remember your steps?” (name) asked.

“Uhuh!”

“Show me!” The twins quickly shuffled into position, angling their hands above their heads and rising to stand on their toes in their nude slippers. They twirled around with no sense of unison and dangled their legs in the air before returning to ground. And when their performance came to an end, the twins posed like graceful swans intoxicated by laughing gas.

Standing back upright, (name) clapped and cheered, Fazya following her motions. “Bravo!”

“Well done,” (name) cooed affectionately, landing a kiss on her daughters’ cheeks. “Your papa is going to be so surprised watching you two dance.”

At the mention of their father, the twins immediately buzzed with an electrified excitement, scratching at their mother’s legs.

“Where is papa?!”

“Is papa coming?!”

“Papa’s coming, don’t worry.” (name) assured gently, reclaiming their hands into her own.

It was a while before the girls were called in, their teacher kindly instructing parents to take their seats in the auditorium. (name) and Fazya quickly gave their goodbyes; kisses to their cheeks and a curt wave, and retreated into the auditorium just as the girls’ dance teacher rounded them in. “Mes enfants….”

The auditorium was sparsely filled as parents began to file in and take their seats. Chatter hung amongst them— talks of pictures, videos, costumes and at-home practice.

(name) aimlessly followed behind her mother-in-law, rapidly padding her fingers against her phone. She drew her eyebrows together and narrowed her eyes, gnawing at her bottom lip.

Repositioning her purse over her shoulder, (name) pressed through her phone, swiping through her call logs. She tapped her finger against Kylian’s name, and raised her phone to ear. It rang for a few seconds before he answered. “Yes?”

“Where are you? It’s starting soon.” Plopping down into her seat, (name) turned her head from left to right, scanning the room.

“I’m here.” Kylian replied curtly, the slamming of a car door could be heard through the phone.

(name) breathed, sighing in relief. “Okay.”

She settled into the cushion of her seat, ending the call and turned to her mother-in-law, joining her conversation.

And when Kylian finally arrived, his father and brother in tow, he sat himself beside her and kissed her cheek.

Jeering her head, a small smile found its way to (name’s) lips as her gaze settled on Kylian. She watched his face mimic her hopeful expression and whisper. “Hey.”

He reached for her hand, settled on top of her purse and pulled her fingers between his. Her hand rested in his lap, wrapped beneath his own as his thumb soothed the back of her hand.

Row by row, the lights above dimmed, a suspenseful silence casted through the auditorium as all attention settled on the grand drapes illuminating beneath spotlights.

A classical symphony sung quietly as the drapes drew back, unveiling the stage. The stage was empty— except for the few props decorated in each corner and the backdrop.

The symphony, a light hearted tune grew louder just as the swans fluttered onto the stage. In identical fluffy, white skirts, they smiled, their tiny arms held above their heads.

The piece shifted, and a much cheerier and upbeat symphony began to play. The girls, the swans, moved in ‘almost’ sync. Some were fast, some were slow and some others followed the tune with complete grace.

The twins, Maya, was fast, and Rena, was slow. Yet, the two wore grins that stretched across their faces, with eyes that glimmered as vividly as the spotlights hanging above them. They moved their tiny slippers, balancing on the tip of their toes, fluttering from corner to corner, twirling in imperfect circles— all with joy riddled across their faces.

The classical symphony, once grand and cherry, eased into a halt, and the dance of the little swans came to an end with a graceful bow. The auditorium filled with applause and cheers from proud parents and spectators as the overhead ceiling lights illuminated the room once again.

“Papa!” Kylian held his arms out wide, a grin painted his features as the twins scuttled into his arms. He heaved, clutching them at the hip and hoisted them to his chest. Kylian huffed, letting out a winded breath and peered down at his children.

They flooded him with loaded questions as their sticky, inquisitive fingers explored his face and ears.

“Papa, did you see me? I spun around really good.”

“Do you like my hair Papa? Mommy did it for me!”

“I’m so proud of you two,” He began, pressing a hard kiss to each cheek. “You did so well.”

Kylian see-sawed his children from side to side as their rambunctious giggles filled his ears. Their legs swung freely in the air, oblivious to their father’s weakening grasps. Slowly but steadily, the twins slid from their father’s arms, their feathery tutus rumpled between the friction.

Planting the twins on stable ground, Kylian took hold of their tiny hands. They fidgeted and crawled between his legs as he offered greetings to parents and their little ones who passed by until (name) returned.

“Babe,” she began, lightly pulling at the twins' cheeks. “Your mom wants to take pictures….”

Kylian nodded and peered down at his daughters. “Do you girls want to take some pictures?”

The twins both nodded eagerly, their soft brown eyes twinkling before shooting off. Their little tutus bounced and fluttered as they disappeared into the merge of people and children.

By the time Kylian and (name) found them, hand in hand, Maya and Rena had accustomed themselves to a wall whilst Kylian’s parents captured pictures.

The twins smiled from ear to ear, wrapped in a tight embrace as bright flashes glared. A minute had passed, with Kylian and (name) capturing their own pictures of the twins before they situated themselves towards the wall.

Holstering each twin on their hip, Rena on (name’s) and Maya on Kylian’s— the family beamed.

(name) pressed the side of her face against Rena’s, her little arm wrapped around her shoulder. The corners of their mouths turned up as their eyes glinted, (name’s) affectionate hand raised to the back of Rena’s head. Both Kylian and Maya shared a closed eye smile, their pearly whites showing. Kylian cradled her tiny hand in his and held it to his chest.

“Say cheese!”

Kylian held his breath, edging closer to (name) and stared ahead, resisting the urge to blink. He settled to find comfort between his family, his daughters to his right and left and his wife, beside him. Kylian's grin grew wider, his eyes filled with stars just as his mother’s phone emitted a flare, forever capturing this moment with his family.

[freak-attorney]

Do you have any school related (highschool and/or college) related AA headcanons? I'm not sure how schooling worked exactly for Mia, Maya, and Pearl given where they lived, so I dunno. Mainly Phoenix, Edgeworth, Franziska and Gumshoe

Ace Attorney HS/Uni Headcanons!

(I admittedly haven't thought about this much before but I'm happy to share!)

Phoenix Wright

High School

Really good at creative writing

Good at the humanities in general

Barely passed chemistry (started a fire in the lab and had to let his partner take over for the rest of the year)

Best friends with his Language Arts teacher

Got detention for being late to class too much

Did NOT pass the Presidential Fitness Test (he couldn't do a pull up)

On a first name basis with the lunch ladies

Applied to maybe 3 colleges

He was a band kid for sure... probably played the clarinet

University/College

Was really good friends with his roommate but they lost touch once he went to law school

Not great at pottery but still made little projects to give to his friends whenever he took a class

Rushed a few fraternities (he didn't get a bid to any of them)

Didn't learn how to talk to girls until Dahlia/Iris

Took a few philosophy classes and yapped in every discussion

Joined a debate club.. he lost most of the time but it made him want to get better!

Was very much oblivious to every girl that ever attempted to flirt with him

Had a group of 3-4 friends that he ate lunch with at the same time everyday

Got super wasted at a party and ended up in the front yard of a frat house off campus

Sweatpants + a hoodie were his go to fits

Miles Edgeworth

High School

Did not get along with many others

Went to public school up until high school where he went to a fancy private school

HATED group projects (asked the teachers if he could just do it himself)

It still haunts him that he got a "B" in Physics

Definitely took APUSH/any AP class he could

Did dual enrollment (completed his Associates)

Helped with the theatre program but only as part of the crew (probably stage manager or lead tech)

Valedictorian

Grade "A" instigator (he started a few fights)

Perfect attendance

Headphones in ALL THE TIME

Applied to at least 30 colleges

Scarily good at dodgeball whenever they played in phys ed

Threw up when they had to do frog dissections

College/University

Refused one of his top choices due to their communal showers

Never spoke a word to his roommate

Became a fan of women's rugby (introduced Franzi to it)

Thought Greek life was a waste of time and never even thought about rushing

Didn't go to a single party

Practically lived in the library

Took a class that introduced him to digital art and he really liked it (he didn't have time to continue it once the class ended)

Franziska von Karma

High School

Well-liked or feared?? Depends on who you ask

Fancy private schools her entire life. High school was no different.

Went through a phase of growing out her bangs but hated it

Full face of makeup every. single. day.

Straight A's (Papa would NOT be happy with anything less)

Extremely competitive with EVERYTHING (even the pacer test)

Excelled in the hard sciences but still went into law

She was the teacher's pet but no one dared to call her on it

Applied to every college she could find

Color coordinated notes for each class

Turned in assignments weeks before they were due

Dual enrollment/AP/IB is a given

She was in chorus (Alto)

Used a leather crossbody in place of a normal backpack

Valedictorian but she doesn't see it as a "real" achievement

College/University

Heavily involved with research

Knew her major the moment she applied (probably before then)

President of the debate team

Requested to not have a roommate

On the women's rugby team

Made out with one of the members of said rugby team and was too embarrassed afterwards to show up to practice for the next week (this one is so specific sorry)

Dressed well for class no matter how early

But she preferred late classes

Took many walks around campus at night

Got invited to Greek life formals (they were very bluntly turned down)

Overpacked for the school year every single time

Started the knitting club

Took ochem "for fun"

Godot/Diego

High School

Looked like a jock stereotype

Bullied the bullies

Public school all the way man

Kept photos of all his friends in his locker

On the track & field team (pole vaulting was his favorite)

Did swimming for a year (butterfly is his stroke)

Had several girlfriends before buckling down senior year and focusing on studying

Failed History

Took Spanish for his foreign language (he already knew it)

Applied to any college where he could get a scholarship

College/University

Involved in EVERYTHING

Didn't get along well with his roommate (Diego's side of the room was always messy)

Switched his major several times (started with music, then bio, then landed on polysci)

Definitely a tour guide

Continued playing sports throughout uni (including intramurals)

Joined 2 frats

Volunteered a lot (service distinction)

Got a job at a coffee shop near campus and that's where it all began...

Started growing out his facial hair sophomore year

Dick Gumshoe

High School

Not the smartest guy, but probably the nicest

Got along with everyone no problem

Found ways to skip phys ed

Friends with the nurse (very clumsy)

Excelled in trigonometry but not much else

Went to all the football games

Probably signed up to be the mascot

Did just enough to pass his classes

Fell asleep during class a lot

The chatty guy on the bus

Unintentional class clown

Spoke up in class a lot even if he was wrong

College/University

Only got into one college... but it was the one he really wanted!

Didn't do well in core classes but once he got to things he was interested in it was practically straight A's

Considered being a teacher for a long time but decided on detective

Signed up for a philosophy class but dropped it

Super interested in entomology

Joined club basketball (he wasn't super good but he had fun)

Kept the same roommate for all 4 years and still talks to him from time to time

Pretty well known on campus ("oh you mean the big, loud guy with the green jacket?")

Started wearing his iconic jacket at this time

Always wore jeans no matter the weather

Went to a few parties even though it's not his scene (some friends wanted him to go with them)

Received surprise bids from some fraternities but he declined

That's what I have for now! I hope you enjoyed, anon!!! I added Godot because I love him 🙂‍↕️

(feel free to request any other headcanons, I love making them! Other fandoms I'm in include Danganronpa (only played THH), Banana Fish, Haikyuu, Free, and Kakegurui!)

[ramblingoak]

Got any wholesome papa head cannons you wanna ramble about?

So this is kind of a sequel in a way to Dumbasses which I wrote many, many moons ago about Cardinal Primo trying to navigate being an older brother.

Also apologies because this definitely got away from me...but here's some wholesome thoughts (maybe a wee bit of angst) from Primo about his younger brothers. No warnings, about 1,300 words and not proofread 💙

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

Primo is very proud of his brothers.

It's no secret that Nihil was a shit father, absent even when he wasn't touring. He never spent any more time than was necessary with his boys. Nihil paid various Siblings of Sin to do that for him. That job fell to Primo when he was old enough. Primo who had recently been made a Cardinal and given more responsibilities than he really was prepared to deal with. Being a father wasn't really ever something Primo had thought about but here he was with three younger brothers all looking to him for guidance.

Secondo had been the toughest to take care of. He had already been a bitter old man even as a teenager. Just another thing Primo could blame on Nihil. Primo tried to act like more of an older brother to him than a parent, Secondo didn't react to authority figures very well at all. Primo had lost track of how many flowers and fruits baskets he had sent to traumatized Sisters who had barely survived having Secondo in their classes.

But his brother had come out of it all a brilliant, strong young man. He moved up the ranks of the church faster than even Primo had. Despite Nihil's attempts at making it a contest Primo tried to not feel like Secondo was biting at his heels. Secondo was ambitious, that was all. He had come to Primo before he reached each new position in the church, wanting the blessing of his fratello before he continued his rise within the clergy.

The night before Primo's final ritual, when Secondo was set to become Papa Emeritus II, they had shared a few drinks in silence before Secondo asked for Primo's blessing. Secondo wanted to be Papa badly, so very badly. He wanted to show Nihil what he was capable of, he wanted to show the old bastard what he could do while in charge of the church. But he wasn't interested in doing any of that without Primo at his back. They had both shared a rare embrace and Primo had promised Secondo, who in that moment looked far younger than he actually was, that he would always be there for him.

Lucifer himself wouldn't be able to drag him away if Secondo needed him.

Terzo was in many ways the complete opposite of Secondo. There wasn't as much ambition, as much desire for power. Terzo was gifted and incredibly smart, much smarter than most gave him credit for. When he applied himself he got high marks from the Sisters and Brothers in charge of the classes at the abbey. The issue was Terzo often didn't want to apply himself. He preferred indulging in sin rather than learning about it. The older he got the more this became true and when Terzo achieved the rank of Cardinal well...

Let's just say Cardinal Terzo's favorite sin was lust and leave it at that.

Primo really didn't really care what Terzo got up to and he certainly didn't want to hear any details. He just wanted Terzo to be happy and safe. Every time he saw his little brother he couldn't help but think of that scared little boy that trailed him everywhere. The loss of his mother had hit Terzo extremely hard and Primo had done his best to fill both parental roles for him.

It was hard for anyone else to tell, but Primo could see it. He knew that despite the companions Terzo always had his little brother was still lonely. Still looking for someone to fill a void by his side. Primo remembered the night when Terzo ascended to Papa, when Secondo bowed on stage to him and let Terzo take the spotlight. The two older Emeritus's had watched off stage as Terzo expertly performed the ritual as if he was born to be up there and in the spotlight.

In a way he was, this was what the Emeritus's were all aiming for. To be Papa, to lead the church to greater things. Primo could see all of that happening under Terzo. He was talented, handsome and charismatic, a true leader. Primo couldn't help but worry about his little brother though, especially as he prepared to hit the road with his ghouls. Touring could be brutal and Primo was concerned that Terzo would be overwhelmed with indulging instead of focusing on what he was supposed to be doing.

It took him witnessing something he probably shouldn't have for Primo to feel better about Terzo leaving. He had been trying to track down his younger brother the night before he was set to leave and had finally found him out in the gardens. Right when Primo was about to walk up he was stopped by another figure joining Terzo. One of Terzo's newly summoned ghouls, Omega he believed was his name, had placed a clawed hand on his brother's shoulder and Primo watched as it trailed up to Terzo's face. Omega had brushed the back of his fingers across his cheek, letting them move back into Terzo's hair, gently combing through it. Terzo had said something Primo couldn't hear before he'd risen up on his toes and placed a kiss on the mask covering the ghoul's face.

Perhaps Terzo wouldn't need his help after all.

Little Copia had been a surprise and at first, not a good one. Primo hadn't been happy to have another Emeritus heir dumped at the church door step. At least this time it wasn't just Primo yelling at Nihil because Secondo and Terzo were there as well. Poor Copia had been scared out of his mind. It was rare for Primo to let his anger get the best of him and even a teenaged Secondo had been surprised at his outburst. When Primo felt like his point had been made, not that Nihil actually gave a fuck about anything that had been said, he had left the old man's office to take Copia around the abbey. However the sight he saw let him know that he was too late.

Primo hadn't even noticed that Terzo had left the office, although he supposed it made sense. Terzo always quickly grew bored when "the adults were yelling" and his new little brother was much more interesting to him. The two of them were deep in a conversation, hurried Italian mixed with English being thrown between them. Primo had walked up and was about to tell Terzo to get back to his lessons, but before he could even open his mouth Terzo had latched onto Copia's little hand and the two had taken off down the hallway.

He knew he should have stopped them, at the very least he should have gone with them. Primo had turned to Secondo and was about to ask him to chase them down, but all he got was a sneer in response. Secondo promptly stalked off the other direction leaving Primo desperately hoping that Nihil didn't have any other little Emeritus's that might show up. Three was more than enough.

As Copia grew up and began to achieve great things Primo couldn't help but still see the nervous little boy in him. Although he could definitely be a smart ass he was probably the sweetest of the four brothers. He treated the entire congregation with care from the siblings to the ghouls and even to the rats he would save from the traps in the kitchens. Copia was special and Primo couldn't wait to see how the church would flourish under him.

Primo was proud of all of his brothers. Each of them had their faults of course, but one of them was always there to pick up the slack and help. They wouldn't do it without giving each other a hard time, but that's what brothers were for. Primo had done his best to teach them that they were all in this together, that the church was theirs. They had to help each other to bring the church to greatness in the name of Lucifer.

Even when they were acting like dumbasses.

(also P.S. Primo has kept every drawing his little brothers ever gave him)

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

my masterlist

my archive of our own page

[crj-online]

Art for a flashback in Chapter 4 (coming soon)

Flashback HERE :

“GUYS, GUESS WHAT I JUST LEARNED ABOUT!” Leo came rushing in, having a little piece of paper in his hand as he ran to the others.

“Wha’ is that, Leo?” Raph asked, staring at the piece of paper as Leo came to a halt.

“This dear bro is a pam-ph-at…ya, a pamphat!! It help older kids, like teenger apply for a place called…co-leg…ya, coleg.” Leo said with a big smile on his face.

“First of all, it's a ‘pamphlet’ not whatever you just said and its ‘college’...like you didn’t say. But, that’s beside the point, where did you even get that?” Donnie correcting Leo’s language was something he would do a lot when they were all younger, it was just something he liked to do.

“Ya, whaever you say, Dee. Anywhizzle, me and papa were on the surface, that's how I found the…um.” He paused, trying to remember how Donnie said it.

“Pamphlet, Leo. It’s not that hard.” Donnie pointed out, making it seem pretty obvious.

“Ya, tha word. Now, papa said if we were good, he cou’ possibly get us into this…college? Is that how you say it…ya, tha’ right? Ya, bu’...papa also said we need to be older, so we still have time to be good turtles.”

“You really think we cou’ go to college, Leo? It seems to be mor’ for human teens.” Raph pointed out, looking at the pamphlet with a picture of happy humans on the front.

“Of cour’ we could, Raphie! How has dis whole situatian stopped us before? Just like how Dee could be in college beca’ he is big-brained. Mikey is still too young, really too young. You Raphie, you could go too before any of us, sine you oldest.” Leo pointed at each of his brothers with a big grin.

“You really think…we could go to college?” Donnie had some doubt in his voice but it also had some hope in it.

“Of course, Dee. We could all make it, togeder.” Leo wrapped a hand around Donnie’s neck and leaned a little on him.

The four of them the rest of the day talked about their future, together in college, even if they didn’t truly make it.

[redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh]

Since y’all liked me getting beaten down by GX characters so much, here’s:

Yu-Gi-Oh ARC-V Characters ranked by how easily I could take them in a fight

same rules apply: fisticuffs only and my personal feelings about the characters do not matter

also since ARC-V is WEIRD AF when it comes to characters this will be characters that are exclusive to ARC-V. so no repeat of Asuka. We already know I bite harder than she does.

without further ado, here we go:

Reira Akaba. No shit. is literally a baby. if I was a baby kicking kind of person I could punt her into the sun. However as I do not kick babies I am more inclined to wrap her in a lil blanket and put her in the corner.

Yuya Sakaki. Bitch. One good step on his toes and he’s going “reaction shot?!” I pull on his stupid fuckin goggles and snap them back onto his face. he’s down. count to ten.

Yuzu Hiragi. Canonically the bracelet girls really suck at holding their own at any given moment. Yuzu is the weakest physically because she has never seen war or hardship to the level of the other three. I could take her in four seconds. pigtail tug time.

Yuri. The second weakest physically of the Yu boys. has been coddled by Leo for years. probably sparred with Sho at the academy to make himself feel better about having 0% body weight from muscles. eat shit you purple motherfucker.

Dennis McField. not only would I beat him, I would enjoy doing it. I’d love to curbstomp that motherfucker off a boat, except he already did that to himself. physically he is a fuckin twig and I am five feet seven inches of pure unadulterated god complex. he’ll wish I turned his ass into a card.

Reiji Akaba. the scarf works to his detriment. I do two laps around him holding the end of that thing and suddenly his face is turning blue and he’s calling for papa. unfortunately for him I have zero mercy.

Rin. again, the bracelet girls are notoriously bad at being strong independent women. we literally don’t see Rin for most of the series because she got herself kidnapped off the cuff. that being said she could probably hold her own against me, but I think she’s too sweet for that.

Z-ARC. We’ve established I bite. even outside of human form, if you look at him, he’s got a fuck ton of exposed veins, both as regular Z-ARC and Yuya Z-ARC. chompy chompy motherfucker you’ll pass out from the blood loss before I can kick your ass properly.

Yugo. Canonically relies on his motorcycle for fuckin everything. lost to Yuri because he rolled a nat one on his constitution saving throw. even though he’s probably physically in shape from motorcycle stuff I could flick him in the forehead and he’d be whining like a baby. If I got the first shot in, I’d have a 99% chance of winning. If he got to me first it would go to about 60%. again, I bite.

Leo Akaba. Here’s where we get into characters that have a greater than 50% chance of beating me. Leo is canonically ripped and also has zero emotions. I would only win if I got close enough for a nut kick, but there’s only one person who wants to be that close to Leo Akaba and it sure as hell ain’t me.

Sora Shuin’in. Holy fuck who let their feral cat off its leash. Sora is literally insane and I am requesting backup. He’d shove that lollipop so far up my ass that I’d be able to tell whether it was lime or green apple. I live in fear of Sora suddenly materializing in my room

Ruri Kurosaki. Remember how I bite? She bites harder. She puts up with No Shit and also has No Fucks To Give.

Serena. No further explanation needed. I fear that explaining it further would cause Feral Child #2 to burst into my brain and start kicking.

Yusho Sakaki. Sweet mother of blue eyes white dragon. remember how I said my personal feelings don’t matter? now they do. smash. next question. wait what were we talking about?

Shun Kurosaki. kinda lost the plot on Yusho but we’re back on track now. Shun canonically took out armed guards by Batmanning his ass up a wall. There’s posters up for him that say “lost dog” and the caption is just “if you find him please keep him”.

Yuto. Everything that Shun is + Ruri taught him how to effectively bite.

Noburu Gongenzaka. he is actually ripped and wears cement shoes for funzies. he could probably just stomp once and my shaky joints would give out on their own. bye.

Yoko Sakaki. canonically beat the stuffing out of people in her past life and I would let her. angry mom energy means I barely make it out alive. smash. wait— shit—

[slavghoul]

Hi Slav, this maybe isn't ghost related, but perhaps more personal. Often times when I read through your posts, I find that we share similar thoughts or preferences. For example, I find it very very odd when the papas are referred to as Terzo or Secondo etc in serious conversation because that isn't how it was when I joined, and it's just not how I enjoy the band. But, I don't want to be someone who perpetuates the new vs old debates. I actually really value and respect your take on things because you're able to inject your opinion in a way that doesn't alienate anyone or make anyone feel stupid. I however feel as though I cannot let go of the frustration I feel when I engage with the fandom. I dont participate much at all because I dont jive with the current culture, but when I do indulge I just feel discontent and disgruntled. It's like I can feel myself becoming the jaded old man. I'm not super hung up on it, it's not really something I think about often. I usually just use the walk away method the moment I start to feel irritated. I got other things to do besides get mad at things I cannot change. But it still sucks

Preamble out of the way, how do you stay so calm and chill and remember to be considerate when you feel your enjoyment of things doesnt align with the vocal majority? How did you acheive your current mindset beyond just learning to let go or not engage with things that might lead to feelings like this? I'm using ghost as the base for this question, but I'm really asking for some general wisdom. I apologize if that's a little loaded.

Jokes aside, this is a lovely and thoughtful question, thank you, but I’m not sure if I have any advice, other than „create your own bubble and live in it because the outside world is a terrible place.” I have my own Ghost-bubble that I very rarely step out of. When I do, I sometimes regret it. You must remember that what thoughts I decide to share here are not all of the thoughts I have. I go through those same moments of disillusionment as you do, it’s just not something I necessarily want to burden others with, so you don’t see me talking about it. I always tried to make this place, to the extent I could make it so, positive and welcoming to everyone, so I keep my personal frustrations on the down low. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, though. Yes, learning to let go and not engaging with matters that leave you feeling like this is possibly the only solution with any viable effects. I try to keep in mind that my enjoyment of the band is my personal experience. What others think and how they behave or interpret things doesn’t define the true essence of what I hold dear. Ask yourself: what was it that made you fall in love with the band? What brings you real joy? Then focus on that. This won’t apply to everyone, but a lot of what brings me joy in relation with the band are things I do on my own, e.g. writing with no intention to share the texts with anyone, collecting, archiving, keeping stats on things that probably only I care about, etc. That’s my happy Ghost bubble, mostly a lone but peaceful place. I think it’s absolutely crucial to craft your own fandom experience, one that suits and satisfies your needs while also keeping you sane. This is meant to be a positive experience after all. But sometimes you gotta make effort to make it so. 

[brainysmurfofficial]

Evolution of Brainy Smurf, Part 6

Years covered: 1986-1989

Picking up our Brainy Smurf journey from where it left off, we can now have a look at the latter seasons of the cartoon show!

You know that phrase, “jack of all trades, master of none”? Well, Brainy likes to style himself as a “jack of all trades, master of all”, but in the end, it just means he’s not actually good at anything beyond forever exhibiting severe cases of the Dunning-Kruger effect. One might be tempted to claim that the only thing he’s actually good at is pretending to be good at things, but in reality, he’s not even good at that, because everyone is almost constantly seeing through the illusion.

There have been a minority of occasions where other smurfs have taken Brainy at his word – and in practically every instance, they have quickly learned their lesson – that their trust is misplaced. Anything from other smurfs trusting Brainy’s insistence about knowledge of which way to go, to the smurflings trusting that he knew what he was doing with Grandpa’s hot air balloon.

The veneer, the illusion of expertise, is what seems to matter to Brainy – the notion that if he could simply get others to believe he’s an expert, it would automatically bestow legitimacy and corresponding skill upon him.

In fact, these tactics can work quite well in the Real World if applied effectively. Someone who is genuinely very good at something but doesn’t know their own worth or how to market themselves generally isn’t going to receive the recognition of someone who is constantly putting themselves out there even if their skills are significantly less than that of others in the area.

But that isn’t really applicable to Brainy’s situation. His sneaky tactics may work on occasion – see what I mentioned above about others extending their trust to him sometimes – but they just about always pay the price for it. Everyone ultimately knows the score.

Brainy Smurf is incompetent.

And he’s incompetent at covering up his own incompetence.

In All The Smurf’s A Stage, he dubs himself as “Brainy Smurf: Manager to the Stars!”. He promises much, but doesn’t exactly deliver. When it comes to undertaking negotiations in his managerial role, Brainy instantly falls flat and fails to secure any kind of good deal, instead declaring, “I’ll make you all stars of the play, but that’s my final offer!”. (“Final offer”… as if it’s any kind of hard sell!). That is not how you negotiate, Brainy! The others already weren’t going to put up any fight or seemingly make any demands at all, and then you went ahead and promised them above and beyond what was needed, not to mention that the play didn’t have three starring roles to spare. And yet, he’s totally clueless about all this. He thinks he’s doing a good job. He’s unable to properly step outside his own mind for a second and properly survey or even understand the situation. The scene is very deliberately written this way, of course – that’s the entire joke. The writers know exactly what they’re doing and they know Brainy tends to be rather hopeless in the skills department, in contrast with what he’d like to believe.

In Sassette’s Tooth, when the other smurfs find out about Gargamel’s plot, Snappy wonders: “But who’d be silly enough to fall for a trick like that?”

Cue the group collectively exclaiming in realisation: “Brainy!”

Yeah, they know the score.

When Brainy Smurf, by some miracle or other, is actually able to get his way, his suggestions, when implemented, do not work.

In The Answer Smurf, when the smurflings follow Brainy’s advice for building their treehouse, it’s obviously structurally unsound and readily crumbles. (Handy’s machine is also having issues thanks to Brainy’s input. Brainy’s advice backfires. A lot.)

And let’s not forget Papa For A Day. There is a rather amusing set-up wherein the ironic words of “how much worse can it possibly get?” are voiced. And then, of course, this is immediately followed by...

...Brainy taking his turn in the role of Papa Smurf. This juxtaposition between scenes is very intentional.

Brainy’s supposedly “easy, step-by-step” plans are contradictory, self-defeating nonsense. Nails are to be hammered into the very same place they are to be removed from – instructions that undo other instructions. It even proves to be dangerous, with his own instructions sending him hurtling to the ground!

“Oh, well, it looked good on paper…”

This is a smurf who really doesn’t know what he’s doing.

In Predictable Smurfs, we’re also treated to a scene where Brainy states: “Using Brainy Smurf’s Boat-Building Bible, I have perfected a pod totally impervious to water penetration! In short, this boat is –” (at this point, Brainy notices with some alarm that his boat is sinking) “-Unsinkable!”

Grandpa chimes in with the following response: “Yep, just like last year!”. Not only does Brainy run rampant with making mistakes, but he doesn’t seem to learn from them (and this is widely known and understood by other smurfs). He’s prone to making the same mistakes over and over. An example of this kind of thing which I especially liked can be found in The Smurf Who Could Do No Wrong:

“Face it, Grandpa, you were just lucky in our first 326 games, but now, I, Brainy Smurf, have finally come up with a foolproof strategy to win!”

THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SIX GAMES. I love that. I tend to forget just how large the amount of games that have already taken place actually IS. And then the sheer size of the number always leaves me taken-aback. He seemingly didn’t win ANY of those games?? It certainly rules out Grandpa merely being “lucky”, but that doesn’t deter Brainy from claiming luck as a paper-thin excuse anyway, of course! (An additional fun thing to note here is that Brainy’s comics counterpart has also been depicted as losing at chess, but I digress!)

How informative do you think his endless supply of books on any and every subject really are? Not very. In Land of Lost and Found, he makes basic mistakes e.g. looking through the telescope incorrectly, despite having authored a work titled “Brainy Smurf’s Guide to the Stars”. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Brainy boasting about authorship of a book with a subject matter he’s clearly inexperienced with is very par-for-the-course – we are especially stripped of any benefit of the doubt when he’s writing or in the process of writing book(s) on topic(s) he cannot reasonably know about if he has only just become acquainted with the subject at hand. Brainy’s vast library of literature writ by his hand is not indicative of knowledge (as he would be wont to claim), but is instead indicative of a kind of graphomania.

To help illustrate this, we can talk about Archives of Evil.

I don’t just want to talk about how Brainy’s typical approach of “doing things completely wrong/incorrectly with total confidence” is on stark display within this episode, I also want to discuss what the episode seems to (try to) do with its ending – the statement it seems to be making.

First, though: we are treated to some rather amusing scenes when Brainy misconstrues what he is reading, unable to realise that it’s not a book of spells, it’s a cookbook. One should think the difference would be obvious, but this is Brainy Smurf…

And then we get the ending, and the way that Nemesis is defeated. Papa Smurf bluffs about the value and power of the book in his possession, so naturally Nemesis steals it so that he can absorb its contents – this is precisely what Papa wanted him to do. The book happens to have been created by Brainy.

“I now possess pure-”

“-ignorance?!”

[...]

Papa: Nemesis thought he was absorbing powerful magic, but Brainy’s book was so full of, eheh…

Papa: ...pure ignorance, the evil knowledge Nemesis absorbed fled for its life!

Nemesis is defeated by none other than the sheer power of Brainy’s ignorance. That’s it. That’s the episode resolution. (I love it).

Brainy appears to remain largely oblivious (or should I say ignorant) to the actual implications of all of this. He puts on his usual self-aggrandising spin instead, choosing to proudly proclaim, “In other words, I, Brainy Smurf, once again saved the day! Naturally, I knew what I was doing all along!”

Brainy wants to be (perceived as) a fountain of knowledge, but in the end, he’s really a fountain of ignorance.

It’s interesting to note that in Reckless Smurfs, it’s Brainy and Snappy who are (initially) the only ones unaffected by the spell that makes smurfs reckless. As discussed in a previous post (when I talked about Love Those Smurfs), whenever the village falls victim to some magic or other, any unaffected smurfs will typically already exhibit the traits brought out by the spell in a significant enough capacity for ironic purposes, and this is no exception. Snappy in this episode had a clear theme/plot line of being too reckless as a tie-in to the overall story, but what of Brainy? Well, we already know Brainy has impulsive and reckless tendencies in general, but if that wasn’t enough, the story makes a point of calling attention to this – Brainy scolds Snappy for not thinking enough about the consequences of his actions, only to cause himself to become stuck and in need of assistance for failing to do just that. In fact, it seems that Brainy and Snappy remained exempt from the effects of the Daredevil Dust because of Brainy’s reckless lack of attention to his surroundings, as it is what causes their delay, preventing them from being amongst the victims at time of “infection”.

(And of course, Brainy’s self-perception continues to be hilariously inaccurate, as he can be found referring to himself as a “responsible smurf” in Jokey’s Joke Book, for example.)

Now let’s turn our attention to Brainy’s bureaucratic inclinations – this has been discussed in prior post(s), but these latter seasons of the cartoon show also offer up plenty more examples of it. In Smurfing For Gold, Brainy tries to deal with Gargamel by drawing up a contract.

(A side note, Papa also imagines Brainy trying to solve an issue through a contract (specifically, a treaty) in the season 5 episode Papa’s Day Off).

In Locomotive Smurfs, he writes a schedule for the train and checks tickets. In Gargamel’s Quest, he turns to petitioning as a means to attempt to achieve his goal at the time.

As also discussed previously, Brainy is someone who often likes to Get Involved with things (i.e. taking advantage of the latest fad in the village, so long as he’s not the designated naysayer for that episode), getting in on the “ground floor” and taking charge in some capacity – this is often combined with his bureaucratic leanings.

In A Hole In Smurf, Brainy doesn’t hesitate: he positions himself as an essential go-to, having a proper counter and set-up at the ready in no time to distribute the sheets that smurfs need to mark their golfing scores. He’s leapt at the opportunity to formalise it all, taking the idea of golfing that’s taken the smurfs by storm, and giving it more structure and sense of being official. He’s also involved in scheduling – what times courses are available, who golfs when, etc.

Unsurprisingly, he’s also taking the opportunity to hawk his new book on golfing as well.

In The Smurfy Verdict, it’s Brainy who takes it upon himself to start lawyering all over the place, etc.

He likes to be at the centre of things, such as the numerous instances where he takes on a detective role to investigate the latest mystery that has presented itself to the village. This allows him to take charge of a/the narrative, put a spotlight on himself while also trying to satisfy his own curiosity.

And in Season 9’s Like It Or Smurf It, we see Brainy’s sense of showmanship – something he’s exhibited before in the show, but it really comes out here, when he takes on a game show host-type role.

All in all, seasons 6 and beyond are very much a continuation of the character we have already been well-acquainted with from the previous seasons, and so we get to see more of the traits that have already been expressed before – such as carelessness, cowardice, etc. I’ve mentioned his tendencies towards melodrama and exaggeration before (just one example: in Smurf Pet, he claims, “I had to risk life and limb as I was attacked by vicious Nebbits”, which really goes beyond misconstruing what actually happened and reaches into outright fabrication), and this can sometimes combine with his naysaying – there are instances where he assumes The Worst in a given situation/crisis and reacts accordingly, assuming that they’re all doomed – in other situations his reactions may not be quite so severe, but he can still be quite negative in a more low-key manner, leaning into sarcasm instead to bemoan a given situation or other. He can be very cynical sometimes.

But all the groundwork has already been laid, in previous seasons. Seasons 6 and beyond are just a continuation. Brainy vies for power, Brainy is inclined to be sneaky and deceptive at times to try and get what he wants, he is unafraid to shift blame onto others for his own mistakes, etc etc etc.

Essence of Brainy is a great character study for how we can use it to reverse-engineer a description/analysis of Brainy Smurf. While stripped of his essence, he acts opposite to his usual self in order to serve as a narrative contrast, so by looking at his portrayal in the episode while stripped of essence, we can then ask: what does this tell us about Brainy in his usual incarnation?

Brainy as depicted without his essence is meek, lacking strong opinions on things, and polite.

So Brainy as a character is overconfident, opinionated, imposing, inconsiderate, overbearing and rude.

In the season 8 intro sequence, he really does just shove Handy out of the way so that he can look through the telescope instead, ahaha. And I just thought: isn’t that a small but good/accurate encapsulation of his character? He’s rude, he’s pushy, he’s self-serving, and so on and so forth. We know the routine by now, in the latter half of the show.

Take this exchange from Jungle Jitterbug:

Brainy: “[Vanity’s] back to normal, all right – the most self-centred smurf of all!”

Jokey: [chuckles] “Next to you, Brainy!”

Yeah, pretty much. :P

This post isn’t all-encompassing; there are many other episodes/scenes that could be discussed, but I’ve mentioned before that these posts are not meant to be a completely comprehensive rundown, but rather to provide more of a scaffold, an outline of the Brainy Smurf character and its evolution.

Finally, we have to mention the comics for a moment!

The Smurflings comic was released in 1988, and I daresay the influence of cartoon Brainy on his comics counterpart is quite palpable – for one, we get a being-tossing-out-of-the-village gag!

Brainy as depicted in this comic also seems to be quite mean-spirited in actively wanting the smurflings’ concert to flop.

And… Hmm, the vibes just feel different here compared with the earlier comics Brainy. I really think the influence of cartoon Brainy is seeping in – which would especially make sense considering that the episode of the cartoon introducing the smurflings came first, before this comic, so the situation is rife with opportunity for cartoon Brainy to have a bleed-over effect!

I just don’t think this would really be in the earlier incarnation of Schtroumpf à lunettes’s particular style/approach. I’m welcome to hearing other opinions on this, but yeah. (I think cartoon Brainy is a bit of a Bad Influence in this respect, ehehehe).

And… Well, I think that’s about it? Brainy’s famous 80s cartoon iteration sketched out – and a hint on how it’s even started to make an impression on other media he’s featured in, too!

The situation seems to call for some kind of sweeping summary/statement/conclusion, and there were some things I toyed with discussing, but ultimately, I really don’t know if I could do it all justice, so I’m going to be a touch light on closing off this post.

But this nevertheless certainly closes a huge and far-reaching, impactful chapter in the Brainy Smurf timeline. Next, we’ll take a look at how Brainy’s character/characterisation proceeded after the end of the 80s cartoon show! Thanks so much for reading! ^_^

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Special angst. Featuring touch-starved Special, homemade quintessence fuckery and lore, basically Special can't touch anyone or they die, Omega and Delta try to help.

CW : Angst, like pretty heavy angst I think, Hurt/comfort, talk of death

Ghouls are social creatures. Not all to the same extend, not all in the same way, but the fact remains : ghouls thrive in eachother's company, in the knowledge that someone, somewhere, is waiting for them, ready to welcome them.

And, ghouls are physically affectionate, as a result of this need to be close and feel surrounded by loved ones. Of course, it's a generic rule, and it doesn't applie the same way to each individuals, but, most of the time, ghouls live off of casual touch, hand holding, hugs, cuddles, clasps on the shoulders, arms slung around waists, tails intertwining.

It's Satan's best joke, really, that Special can't even have that.

That he's so fucked up that not only no one bears to be in his presence, but he could also kill the poor ghoul who'd pity him enough to try and give him a hug.

Because Special's elements are all pulling him in different direction, trying to evade the too tight confine of his body, weak fire sorrowfuly begging to be smothered out, destructive quintessence furiously grasping at every bits of vital energy it can find, literaly sucking the life out of anyone stupid enough to have any kind of skin-to-skin contact with Special.

At least it's vaguely less awfull now that he managed to contain the devastating effect of his quintessence to his body - the screams of agony of the people who tried to approach him after his summoning, Omega's pained grunts as he backed away, the soft blanket he had held out for Special falling at his feet, the sheer terror on the ancient ghoul's face as he watched the humans unfortunate enough to be in Special's quintessence's range dropping like fly, oh, Special remembers it all so well.

Six Siblings died that way, simply because they were standing too close to him. Omega was, too, and is only alive because of his highly resistant nature, allowing him to stumble back in time.

It took weeks of sitting across from Omega, safe distance between them, training relentlessly to try and tame his quintessence, before Special could evolve around people without draining them. But it worked.

Provided he stays dressed head to toe, not a silver of skin showing, of course.

Special could, theoretically, be on the recieving end of ghoul's typical affection, the soft nudges, pats and caresses rythming their lives, long as no one makes contact with his skin, long as all those displays take place through a layer of clothing.

But then again, Special can't blame them for being wary, and prefering to stay away altogether. They're right, after all. You never know what might happen, if Special won't suddenly lose control and kill everyone in a three meters radius just by existing.

Special hasn't see anyone in days. Omega said he'd come by, but he hasn't yet. Special vaguely remembers something about Delta the...water ghoul, right ? Well, one of them anyway. There's a lot of those around, Special keeps forgetting who's who, doesn't see them enough to properly remember. He sticks to the dark corners, only goes out in the dead of the night, only watches the other ghouls from afar, except maybe for Omega.

But Omega's not here, hasn't been here for too long, busy taking care of Delta, whatever that means. Special wonders if he'll come back. Special wonders why he needs Omega to come to his room, why he can't bring himself to get up and go find the quint by himself. It's not like it's forbidden or anything. He just can't do it, the thought of opening his bedroom door in the middle of the day strictly unfathomable.

No, Special, at least during the day, needs someone to open it, someone to drag him outside if he really is needed, like for interviews, because apparently he's the only fucker who agreed to do them when neither Papa nor Omega are free.

A third choice, that would probably be even further down the list of candidates if it wasn't for his uncanny ability to entertain humans, with jokes and crudes, snarky remarks masking the cracks of his shattered soul.

So Special waits, sitting motionless in the middle of his bed. He hasn't seen anyone in days. He hasn't been touched since forever. No, that's not true. Omega cupped the back of his head the last time he was here, protected by the mask and balaclava Special always has to wears, and pressed a kiss to the metal covering his forehead.

It had nearly unraveld him.

Special doesn't know why Omega still bothers with him, what sick sense of responsability pushes the quint to visit Special as often as he can bear, why he insist on being so patient, so gentle, smiling with sadness in his eyes.

Special doesn't want pity. But he could never tell Omega not to come back.

His hair is getting too long. It's itchy in the back of his neck, keeps getting stuck in folds of fabric. Special shifts uncomfortably, thinking about stealing a pair of scissors and chopping it off himself. It's always a delicate task, cutting his hair : he's not good at it himself, but whenever Omega's doing it, he has to be extra cautious, avoiding any contact with Special's scalp, not even able to properly run his fingers through it. Special's hair is never perfect, always a bit messy, as a result, but now it's even worse.

He really needs Omega to come back.

It hits Special like a freight train.

He needs Omega to come back. He needs to hear his voice, to see the lines and creases on his face, the tired slope of his broad shoulders, the softness of his eyes. Special needs his tentative, fleeting touches, needs to talk to him, needs to be carefully held, even if it's all tainted with Omega's guilt, obligation and pity.

He needs to know Omega hasn't moved on, hasn't chalked him up as a lost cause, that Special hasn't lost the only comfort life ever granted him.

A knock startles him out of his thoughts, his whole being shaking with relief at the familiar pattern.

"Spesh ? Can I come in ?"

Special nearly sobs. His voice scratches in his throat.

"Yes."

Omega slips in the room. He's maskless, and Special drinks him in like a ghoul starved. He looks tired, like he hasn't slept in days, but. He's smiling. Omega is smiling, wide an bright, eyes gleaming. It makes Special's own lips pull in an unfamiliar direction, up up up, until concealed under the mask, his mouth weakly mimics Omega's.

"I have good news for you, Spesh. Really good news. Would you let me bring someone else in here ?"

Special visibly flinches, though still half frozen, cossed-legged on the bed. Omega's face softens in that way Special yearns for.

"It's okay, it'll be fine. I promise. Do you trust me ?"

Special doesn't need to think about the answer, nodding with more conviction than he ever displayed before. It gets a soft chuff out of Omega.

"Attaboy."

The quint moves with a grace Special envies, reaching for the door and opening it like it's the easiest thing in the world. Maybe, to him, it is.

The ghoul that steps in looks just as tired as Omega, if not more, but is also sporting a smile, hair an absolute mess, looking like it got chopped with absolutely no regard for the aesthetical result, as uneven as it is unruly.

"Spesh, this is Delta, remember ? Delta, this is Special."

Special blinks, unmoving as a statue, as he often is. Sometimes, he thinks that if he keeps perfectly still, the universe will forget that he is supposed to be, and simply let him stop existing.

Delta. Yes Special remembers. He doesn't smell like most water ghouls, though, it's quite disarming.

"Hello, Special," Delta breathes, barely above a whisper, "it's nice to officially meet you."

Unsure of what to do with that soft tone, with how genuine Delta apparently is, Special looks toward Omega, silently begging for guidance. The quint goes to sit next to him, one hand brushing his back ever so slightly. Special has to bite his tongue to contain a relieved whimper.

"He's here because we discovered something, and I have a theory," Omega explains.

Delta is standing straight, hands folded behind his back, withstanding Special's wary scrunity with an easy smile. Something about him is...off, Special notes. It's not necessarily bad, but it intrigues him.

Delta looks like a water ghoul. Blueish tint to his grey skin, gills, needle sharp fangs, webbed fingers, a few fish-like scales visible on his forearms. And yet...

Special doesn't realize he's leaning forward until Delta tilts his head in amusement. He leans back immediately, clasping his gloved hands tighter on his lap.

"I think," Omega goes on, "that he might be able to touch you without consequences."

It's instinctive, the way Special stiffens, shaking his head desperately at Omega, clearing his throat to find his voice again.

"No, no, no, Megs, it'll end up badly-"

"Listen- listen to me, Spesh, listen," Omega interrupts his panicked babbling, craddling his masked face between two big hands, "i'm not pulling this out of my ass, okay ? Delta here, well, we needed a new quintessence ghoul, at least for a little while, until we could summon a new one, and...Delta volunteer for an...elemental transition of some kind."

Special blinks, shaking in Omega's grip. Well, that explains the funny feeling, the strange scent.

"But...Delta's still water," Special rasps. Omega hums, nodding.

"Yes, but not exclusively. He's not...quintessence either. It's more like...he became a vessel quintessence can pass through. He can channel it from the outside, dig it from the source rather than something within him like us quintessence ghoul do, quite literaly pull it from thin air, let it flow through him, and release it."

Special frowns, trying to wrap his mind around all this.

"But...raw quintessence, the one that is everywhere, is impossible to access to unless you are a quint, because your quintessence connects you to it, opens you a door. Right ?"

It's more words than he's spoken in weeks outside of interviews, but excitement suddenly buzzes in his body, brain finally feeded something to think about, to analyse, to study. Special is a cerebral creature, no matter what people might thing, and such an incredible discovery makes him feel almost alive.

Omega laughs, a breathless, amazed little thing.

"I know. But, apparently, we managed to crack that door open for Delta. He doesn't have much control over the quintessence he releases, but it's enough for the Clergy, for now."

Special glances toward Delta from the corner of his eyes.

"That's...you wrote it down, right ? Records of this could be incredibly useful-"

The smile he gets makes Special's heart miss a beat. Omega looks so fond, so full of love, it's almost painful.

"I did. I'll hand you my notes. But, back to you. What your quintessence does, is devouring energy out of living things-"

Special hangs his head down, shame creeping up his spine, wrapping around his throat.

"Hey, none of that, Spesh," Omega soothes, pulling his head up by the metal point of the mask's chin, "let me finish. What if someone was full of an energy they can fully dispose of ? If someone could let your quintessence take without it harming them, that means they could touch you. Delta could touch you."

Special blinks.

"But...you can't touch me."

"Because your quintessence takes the one at my core - drains me dry of a source of power so entangled in my being that losing it would mean losing me. But Delta's quintessence doesn't come from him."

Slowly, Delta comes closer, kneeling by the bed, offering his bare hand to Special, smiling, and Special- can't understand why. Why anyone would willingly take such risks - first the attempted elemental transition, now this.

Omega brushes Special's shoulder.

"Please, try it. I know...how hard isolation is for you. Please, sparkle, try. If anything goes wrong i'll pull Delta away before any real damages can be done, I promise."

The coppery taste of blood hits Special's tongue, and it's the only reason he's aware he's biting his lip. Then Delta talks.

"I volunteered, Special. I know this is going to work. I trust Omega's theory, and. I think I can trust you, too."

This time Special does sob.

"If I hurt you..."

"You won't. Give me your hand, Special, it'll be okay."

And Special is terrified. Terrified that it won't work, that he'll hurt Delta, who seems the nicest ghoul you could ever wish for. Terrified that it'll work, that the one time he manages to touch someone without killing them will kill him, that all it would take would be a brush of skin against his own to destroy him.

Despite all that, Special slowly, oh so slowly takes one glove off, revealing too-pale skin and twitchy fingers. Delta' smile widens, then the air shifts a bit, starts blurring around him. One of his eyes turns purple, his skin shimering slightly.

"It's a bit like holding my breath," the water (?) ghoul explains, "i can't keep it for too long, maybe a couple of minutes, after, i have to release it. Open the valves, kind of. But, if I just keep them open, just let quintessence flow in and out freely, like this-"

Another shift in the air. The shimer on Delta's skin dims, his features relaxing.

"Then I can keep it that way as long as i like, effortlessly for the most part. That's how we can touch. I'm ready when you are."

He's going to do this. Special is going to do this. His hand is shaky when he wraps it loosely around Delta's - ready to pull away at any moment - but the second their skin makes contact, he gasps and can't help tightening it.

Delta doesn't flinch. His skin glints a bit more, but that's it. Special's quintessence is hungrily drinking in the one flowing though Delta, but he doesn't need it. He can let Special take it.

Salt. Salt on his tongue, now. Special is crying. Holding onto Delta's hand for dear life, shoulders shaking, Special is crying, the water ghoul shushing him softly, thumb drawing circles on the back of his hand.

Omega helps unclasping the mask, watching with tears of his own as Special takes it off, throws it somewhere, who cares, where the balaclava and second glove quickly follow.

Delta opens his arm, still not letting go. Special sobs so hard he's sure it's going to turn him inside out, slidding off the bed and into Delta's firm, tender embrace, burrying his face in the water ghoul's neck, finally able to touch, to feel, truly feel.

He can't see it, but Omega's crying in earnest now, Delta fighting tears as well.

Special isn't okay. Special might never be okay, Delta might be the only person he'll ever get to touch, it might stop working at some point, there might be a catch, but oh, Special doesn't care.

He'd trade his infernal eterinity for this moment in time, folded in arms that hold him like something precious.