#Not Another Tragic Backstory

[l-a-l-o-u]

Capucine 🌼

[champion-prism]

but all might's characterization drawing so much strength from mother figures. his victory pose, his laugh, from his earliest memories with his mother. learning to smile and be strong from nana. thinking of nana in his worst moments and gaining strength- i thought of her as my own mother, being formed as a person by nana's life and death. i dont know why hori specifically chose to make the seventh holder a woman (shigaraki's story would have worked if nana was male) but i love that toshinori yagi is a mama's boy.

so much of the media i love has cool male mentors or emphasises fathers, male mentors, or if women are a source of drive or inspiration they exist in that capacity as lovers; but to have an Incredibly Powerful male hero that goes "yes, i derive all my strength from my mother-figure mentor" is so dear to me. his earliest memories of his happy childhood featuring his biological mother.

[temsikghosts]

i found Yomiel's ancestor LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

[gengwasted]

Witch!Aventurine ???

I’ll be honest I was just looking for an excuse to draw him with a cool hat since they keep revoking his hat privileges

[snow-dragon-rider]

Baylan Skoll, shiny new Jedi Knight, full of boundless optimism and joy, takes a shiny new padawan, a tiny girl full of boundless optimism and joy to match, and the Council smiles at her endless questions and his endless patience.

Baylan Skoll, Jedi Knight, promises to teach and she promises to learn, and they adore each other and the Force dances around them in the hope of what could be.

Baylan Skoll, Jedi Knight, is sent off to war with his padawan like they all are, and already the Temple seems dimmer, like shadows creep in the corners without the two bright balls of light in the Force to keep them out.

Baylan Skoll, General in the Grand Army of the Republic, fights for what is right and teaches his padawan the same, as he keeps her as far from danger as he can in a galactic war.

Baylan Skoll, Jedi General, senses a change in the clones as the order comes down, and he pulls his padawan behind him, tells her to stay there and he will protect her, and she believes him, she always has, and he has never let her down before.

Baylan Skoll, traitor to the Republic, runs, shields his little padawan, sends her into the vents to hide while he cuts them a path out, and he kills dozens—hundreds?—he doesn’t know anymore—of clones, because he promised to protect her.

Baylan Skoll, Jedi Knight, fights no longer to get them out, but to get back to her, because the clones have found her and she is alone and she is terrified and the last thing he feels before he watches them execute her is her hope—her knowledge—that he will save her.

Baylan Skoll, broken man, kills every clone he can find because they took her and he couldn’t get her back, they betrayed the Jedi and he can’t get them back either, the Order has fallen and so has he.

Baylan Skoll, man on the run, takes his fight to whoever has the misfortune to catch his eye, and woe betide those he sets his sights on.

Baylan Skoll, mercenary, finds himself teaching a new apprentice to fight for a new Empire, not the old one the clones killed his padawan to create, but a new one, built by a new man, a man who sees the greater good and knows what must be done to bring it about (so he is told).

Baylan Skoll, fallen Jedi, finds this man, this Thrawn, and he has gone through trial and storm and tribulation and fire to get here, but so have Tano and her allies, and he will not give up without a fight, he never has.

Baylan Skoll, fallen Jedi, sees this boy, this child who would have been a padawan in the old days, who should be one now, who is in danger, who is terrified of the soldiers bearing down on him.

Baylan Skoll, fallen Jedi, fights for what is right, even though he hasn’t always, because he couldn’t save his padawan all those years ago, but damn it he will save Bridger’s.

Baylan Skoll, Jedi Knight, dies a hero, dies a death he could not all those years ago, dies to save a child, and the Force dances at the blaze of hope that burns so bright it shames the stars as it welcomes him home.

Baylan Skoll, worthy Jedi Knight, the Force says, be at peace.

[reactionimagesdaily]

[beansterpie]

rewatching LoK, i'm being reminded how much I dislike the.... the brothers, mako and bolin, yanno? they're such underwhelming characters on basically every level. it'd almost be impressive if they weren't in every episode and didn't annoy me so much ugh

[jinxed-ninjago]

I think one of the best things about Master of the Mountain is that it confirms that it’s canon that Cole is a naturally protective person, and it also implies that Cole got that from Lilly (not necessarily in the form of the promise — but Lilly protected the Geckles and Munce when they couldn’t protect themselves).

Like throughout the series that’s been one of his defining traits; his sense of justice and drive to protect. His drive to protect and help those in need almost rivals Zane’s.

The fact that it’s confirmed in Master of the Mountain that it’s been a trait of his since he was a kid makes me so happy. Cole has been 100% down to fight someone if they’re being cruel and/or unjust since he was a kid.

He’s always lived up to that promise to Lilly before the promise was even a planned part of his past. I love that. I love that his drive to protect has always been a part of him. And tying it into his backstory made his character even more enjoyable to me.

Also, Cole’s little hand motions when he says “he’s always pickin’ on the little kids” is absolutely fucking adorable and it’s one of my favorite parts of the Dungeon Crawl! flashback.

[dw-flagler]

its kind of funny to me that in the comics supergirl kind of occupies the spot for like the edgy superman. which is kind of weird for her typical role as kid sidekick to superman because her thing as a character (at least the versions of her character that i like) is that she doesn't have a reason to help anybody and doesn't like earth. edgy superman. but she's also the kid sidekick. strange juxtaposition

[maudlin-scribbler]

Holy fuck can't believe I am turning 18 in november. It just hit me. I am so close to making it(to beinga legal adult, I guess). Not to be depressing, but there was a time this seemed...unrecheable, and sometimes it still feels like that. But hey, I am so close.

[lunar-years]

Any snippets to share from the Jamie-Father wip?

So "Jamie-Father fic" is just another name for what I've been calling the RJK friends with benefits fic on here. It started out as mainly a fic to explore jamie dealing with his dad being in rehab before it evolved into the royjamiekeeley post s3 mega-fic it's turned into, which is why it's titled that, lol.

I don't want to post too much because I haven't added much to it recently and i don't want to give ALL of it away, but here's a little something no context lol:

“No, I just meant—So there was this one time, I were doing a school project, right? ‘Supposed to do a book report on a person we admired, put a poster together and dress up like ‘em to do a presentation for the class.”  Roy shot him an amused look. “Tartt, if you’re about to say there are pictures of seven year old you dressed up as me out there, and you’ve been holding out on showing me…I have your mother’s mobile number, you know. I’ll ring her.”  Jamie jogged just close enough to elbow him lightly in the ribs. “Oi! Egomaniac, much? Who says I chose you?” Roy shrugged, “I saw the posters on your wall, so. Obvious conclusion. What’s that your stepdad told me? Roy Kent always remains…. Just admit that you’ve always admired me, and—”  “Fuck you,” said Jamie, laughing. Roy grinned at him all pleased with himself, so probably that was his intention all along, to get him laughing. Jamie wasn’t sure what to do with that. “Anyway, I was twelve, not seven, and you definitely weren’t the only player I cared about. You think I wanted to walk into a school in North Manchester in Chelsea blues?” he continued lightly, looking at the pathway in front of them instead of at Roy, “Not a fucking chance, mate. Social suicide, that. Went with Vinnie.” 

[hershelwidget]

wait hang on

HANG ON

DO YOU SEE MY VISION

[godsfavoritescientist]

Its funny how brutally honest the axolotl poem is. Imagine being the most feared triangle in the multiverse and some giant space lizard tells your twelve year old sworn enemies about the time you saw your own dimension burn and then tells them "[bill] says he's happy, he's a liar." I think if I was Bill Cipher I would put the axolotl at the top of my enemies list for that one

[avirael]

Legacy

“A’viloh! May I speak to you for a moment?”, a familiar voice called after him as Rael and A’vi turned to leave the feast the Company of Heroes had organised for them.

With a grimace on his face he froze on the spot. He hadn’t spoken to U’odh since his so called test at the Forgotten Springs and he would rather have jumped off of the next jetty than have this conversation now. In retrospect he thought it probably had been a mistake not to talk to him in the first place about everything that had happened. Leaving the bad news to Tykha and running away without another word had been cowardly but now it was too late to change the situation. Just like it was too late to change a lot of things he would do differently if he knew then what he knows now.

Rael threw an unfriendly look to the Miqo’te standing a few steps behind A’viloh and then fixed their eyes on A’vi, slightly shaking their head. “You don’t have to…”

“But I should…”, he whispered, his ears nervously twitching.

“If you say so…”, Rael muttered. “But I’ll be right over there ready to set his ass on fire if he gets rude…”

With a smile on his face A’viloh nodded.

As Rael left, A’viloh took another deep breath and slowly turned. It was difficult to look into U’odh’s eyes but looking down at the jetty only made him more aware that he didn’t even have solid ground beneath his feet.

“Thank you.”, the older Miqo’te began and gestured to a bench a few yalms the other way. “Should we sit down?”

Incredulously he eyed U’odh. He hadn’t expected to be greeted with so much politeness and didn’t yet trust that it would remain this way for long. Slowly he followed and sat down but didn’t dare to speak. For a long few seconds it was silent.

“First of all”, U’odh finally spoke after having observed A’viloh for a moment. “This belongs to you.”

He pulled the Amalj’aa necklace from his pocket and offered it to A’viloh. “You won it in combat. It’s your trophy, not mine.”

Reluctantly A’viloh took the thing and turned the beats and bones of the necklace between his fingers. Staring at it was a good excuse not to look at the person sitting next to him.

“Secondly”, U’odh said after taking a deep breath. “I owe you an apology, A’viloh.”

Surprised A’vi looked up. He must have misheard that.

“I apologise, A’viloh.”, he repeated his piercing bright eyes unusually soft but nonetheless fixed on him. “For the longest time I blamed you for my son leaving. And when you had the audacity to return to the village and at that without him, it made me angry. Then Thykha told be the whole truth...”

Ah, there it was! Of course there were going to be accusations again. Of course he would have to hear all over again how everything would be so much better if he had never made it to the Forgotten Springs. He sighed, readying himself to listen to whatever lecture U’odh had prepared and looked back down to the necklace in his hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to say that I was right. I had a lot of time to think and I understand that it was wrong to blame you. It was never your fault that he left. It was always mine. I just didn’t want to admit it.”, U’odh explained and then paused for a moment before speaking again. “And now it is too late. The things I said made him leave and I didn’t even try to stop him. Had I been kinder, maybe things would be different now…”

For the second time today A’viloh couldn’t believe his ears. Slowly he looked up in disbelief. U’odh looked at him ruefully, somehow sad even. It was the same look again, that strange expression A‘vi had only seen twice on him. He had always only linked it to bad news of death and doom but now he saw that it was truly grief. Grief for his first wife, who had died way too soon, and for the home he thought he failed to protect when Dalamud was about to fall from the sky. Grief for Laqa, who they had both loved so dearly.

For a moment no one said anything until A’vi thought that he was probably expected to reply something. But what could he say?

“I don’t think so…”, he finally spoke. He wasn’t going to unfurl all of his feelings of guilt and self-doubt now. U’odh didn’t need to know about them. But if he was not supposed to blame himself, neither should the other Miqo’te. Helplessly A‘vi tried to find the right words for a moment. Great speeches weren’t one of his few strong points.

“Uhm…You know… Rael keeps on telling me something. They think wondering about the what-ifs only makes everything worse. They always say, You can’t change the past, but you can still change the future! or something like this… I‘m not as eloquent as them, I’m sorry…”

A’viloh was yet to put that mindset into motion for himself though. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Rael, standing on the other end of the jetty with crossed arms and not even trying to hide that they were watching.

Slowly the older Miqo’te nodded. “That Viera is a smart one…”

A‘viloh nodded too. “They are, but that’s not was I wanted to say…” he paused and tried to find the right words. “Um... I think sooner or later Laqa would have left anyway and who knows what would have happened then. He may not have said so in front of you but he always spoke of adventures. Ask U’tykha or any of the others. He always wanted more than this village could offer him. He adored you and in a way he wanted to be like you, I think. To see the world, to be strong and to help people. To be a hero. But at the Springs he couldn’t become that…”

He had to stop himself there. His own words suddenly felt like thorny vines wrapping themself too tightly around his throat and the last thing he wanted to do now was to look weak in U’odh’s eyes.

But the older Miqo’te just sighed. A deep, defeated sound, which A’vi had never heard him make before. Then he fell silent. Thoughtfully he looked at A’viloh, who just stared back trying to hide how shaken he felt all of a sudden. After another long moment, suddenly U’odh started to laugh. Not the loud, mocking laughter A’viloh was used to, it was more like a chuckle he couldn’t hold back but nonetheless it visibly startled A’vi.

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing funny about that.” U’odh excused himself. “It’s just who would have believed that, of the two of you, you would be the one to one day sit here facing adventures equal to those of the Company of Heroes? I don’t mean to offend you, but it seems so impossible.”

“It's alright…”, A’viloh said and nodded. “You’re right. I certainly didn’t ever imagine something like this.”

For a second the older Miqo’te seemed to think about his next words. “I didn’t listen to you when you returned home. Instead I mocked you. I would understand if you refused to answer my questions now, but what made you the one to defeat Ifrit?”

This question surprised A’viloh. Neither had he expected it nor was he really sure what the right answer would be. “I don’t know.”, he admitted. “I didn’t exactly plan to do that. It just happened…”

That answer didn’t seem to be the one U’odh had wanted to hear. Curiously he tilted his head to one side and rephrased his question. “But what made you strong enough to do that?”

Yet again A’viloh felt like this was a test. One he was failing.

“Uhm… that’s thanks to other people I guess. When I would just have given up, they took care of me. And then I wanted to help them in return. So I went to Uldah, just like Laqa had dreamed, and I did as we planned. I learned to fight and made as much Gil as I could to help my friends. And from then on I just kept going. No matter where you go, there are always people who need help, so I just did everything I could. And somehow now I’m here…”

“I see…”, U’odh nodded, carefully evaluating the given reply before saying: “Your answer makes me happy, A’viloh. You know why that is?”

Confused A’viloh stared at him. Was he supposed to know why? Hesitantly he shook his head.

U’odh smiled at him. Not in a condescending way but with a strange mixture of feelings. “My son is not dead. Not entirely at least. You have become everything he ever dreamed and more.” Slowly he stretched out his right arm and with his index finger he tapped against A’viloh chest. “He is right here. Laqa is always with you and he would be so proud to see what you have become. And I, if you allow me to say so, am very proud of you as well.”

It’s not like A’viloh cared much about U’odh’s opinion of him, or at least he told himself so, but somehow his words still moved him more than he thought. He hadn’t expected so much sentiment from the older Miqo’te, so for a second he just stared at him perplexed. Then he could feel that tight feeling in his throat again. He tried to breath but it only got worse and then his eyes started to burn. Frantically he blinked, trying his best not to cry but it was in vain. It was simply too much. Embarrassed he hid his face behind his hands as he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “I’m sorry…”, he muttered with a faltering voice.

“Don’t be sorry.”, U’odh replied and put a hand on his shoulder. Then after a moment he nodded sideways. “But please stop. Your friend there seems to think I made you cry and looks very displeased about it.”

A’viloh laughed a little and tried to wipe the tears away but it was rather useless. He could already imagine Rael preparing a few nasty words or a fire-spell to throw at U’odh’s head. “I guess I shouldn’t let them wait so long…”

U’odh agreed but as A‘viloh got up to leave he added. “Please know that you can always return home if you like.”

A’viloh paused and turned to look at him. “I don’t know…”, he said and then added quietly. “It’s not the same anymore…”

U’odh simply nodded. “I know.”

As A’viloh reached the end of the jetty and stepped onto the sand next to Rael, the Viera gave them a curious look. “Why are you crying? Should I rather make it thunder than fireballs?”

A’viloh shook his head and smiled as he pressed the hand holding the Amalj'aa necklace to his chest. “No. It’s alright.”

[typemoonconfessions]

[morninkim]

Congratulations! As of today, you are a Kamen Rider.

OKAY I’m done with designing my Geats OC, Kamen Rider Haunt. They’re based on a greyhound and use the Phantom and Racer Raise Buckles.

The Phantom Raise Buckle grants the Phantom Chain, a weapon that can pass through solid objects as the user wishes with an expandable length to attack any Jyamato at a distance or up close, while the Racer Buckle grants the Racer Spoilers, twin blade that allow the user to make up close attacks at great speed.

Haunt keeps their wish close to their chest and, despite outwardly presenting very friendly, will take any opportunity to sabotage other DGP Riders. But only if they’re sure they won’t be caught.