#foster youth awareness

[onceuponafosterkid]

Residential Treatment Facilities

In the state of Colorado, they decided they want to close down residential treatment centers across the state. Their goal in this, is to place foster youth with foster families instead of treatment facilities. As someone who grew up in foster care treatment centers, I have a couple thoughts about this. Hypothetically, this is good idea. Every kid deserves a loving family. What I don’t agree with, is pulling kids like me out of a traumatic situation and placing them with a family who are not trained or prepared to deal with aftershocks of trauma. I lived in an abusive house for 12 and a half years. When the state finally pulled me out, they placed me in a residential treatment center where I had access to 24/7 therapeutic services. Without those around the clock services, I would have committed suicide. I went through a phase where almost every day I was fighting to die. I did not want to be alive. If they had placed me in a foster home instead of a treatment center, I would have killed myself, and I would have burned out every set of foster parents they placed me with. You cannot expect foster parents to be able to handle a child with the amount of trauma and behavioral issues I had. That is a job for treatment counselors and therapists. I do not believe youth should be institutionalized to the point of not being able to function in a normal society, but I think youth need time and space to stabilize in a therapeutic setting before they are placed in a family. Otherwise, it will not work. You cannot expect parents to perform the same tasks as a therapist or a counselor. You have to pick one, you can’t be both a therapist and a parent to a kid. It’s unfair and unrealistic to the youth and the parents.

[ex-foster]

[cripplerage]

Queenslander? Aged 25 or under? Want to give a speech at a Youth Summit in Brisbane in April? CLICK! THAT! LINK!

https://www.qfcc.qld.gov.au/amplify

Submissions close on the 12 of March.

"Don’t worry, you don’t need a fully written speech just yet.

To apply, submit a 2-3 minute video explaining who you are, and what you would talk about, touching on the key topics and specific messages that you want people to know about."

[fallahifag]

The skateboarding scene in Palestine is one of our most unique yet powerful forms of protest and resistance against the illegal Israeli occupation. Skateboarding in Palestine is far more than a sport or hobby; it is a form of resistance and empowerment. Riding a skateboard might seem like a simple act - but to Palestinians, it is a way to express their identity, defy oppressive forces, and reclaim agency over their bodies, land, and rights to movement.

Skateboarding in Palestine first gained popularity in the early 2000s in the West Bank. Palestinian skaters took matters into their own hands, constructing makeshift skate parks in abandoned buildings and empty lots. These spaces became more than recreational areas; they became symbols of empowerment and resistance for Palestinian youth. This act was a unique form of protest by allowing Palestinians to reclaim public spaces that were often damaged due to the occupation forces. In a land where movement is restricted and access to certain areas is limited, Palestinian skaters transformed overlooked spaces into vibrant skate parks. The act of reclaiming these spaces was a way to peacefully assert their right to challenge the limitations imposed upon them when it came to the use of public areas. Palestinians will not be confined or silenced by the occupation, and skateboarding is one of the many ways this sentiment is showcased.

Organizations and initiatives, such as SkatePal, have played a crucial role in supporting and developing the skateboarding scene in Palestine by building skateparks, providing equipment, and offering lessons. Initiatives like this create a safe space for young Palestinians who are often forced to give up a lot of their childhood joy to the occupation. Skateboarding fosters a much needed sense of community that Israel has tried to stifle for decades. Palestinian skaters also participate in global competitions and events to showcase their skills on an international stage!! This raises awareness about their ongoing struggles and, more importantly, their unwavering resilience.

Skateboarding serves as a means for Palestinians to express their identity and existence. In a genocidal, oppressive state, where freedom, creativity, and individuality are often suppressed, the act of skateboarding itself becomes a powerful statement of resistance against the occupation. It visually represents qualities that are intrinsic to the Palestinian spirit. Skateboarding empowers Palestinian youth by providing them control over their bodies and movement in their land.

In Palestine, skateboarding is not just a sport - it is a culture of reclaiming ownership, fostering confidence, independence, and resilience.

(None of these photos belong to me)

[pomefioredove]

lily of the valley

bonjour et joyeux premier mai! in france and belgium we give our loved ones lily of the valley flowers on may day to wish them luck in the upcoming year. sooo I thought... why not treat a few of my favorite boys?

summary: gifting them a lily of the valley type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, epel, rook, vil, lilia additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

"...Oh? And what's this?"

your first "victim" of the day is none other than the strict and formal Heartslabyul housewarden himself

as a man of tradition, and an enjoyer of flowers, you figure Riddle is the perfect place to start

as you're already well aware of the gardening culture in the Queendom of Roses, you even make an effort to read up on botanical facts about the gift ahead of time, if only to impress him

and... well, you didn't have the time to paint these ones red

or is that only for roses...? these rules can be quite confusing...

When you hand him the gift, he's simply surprised. Flowers? But he doesn't remember asking you for these...?

Riddle inspects the sprig of lilies in his hand, rolling the stem between his fingers as you explain their meaning

and, much to your delight, he's pleasantly receptive

"They're not roses, but... I suppose they're very nice. Thank you,"

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

"Now, what's all this for?"

if there's one thing Epel Felmier is absolutely tired of, it's flowers

well... it's not that he hates them, it's just... they're a girly thing, right? not to mention that Vil keeps them everywhere- the lounge, the rooms, he'd bet even that creepy basement under the dorm has a pristine porcelain vase full of the seasonal picks

ah, but flowers from you...?

and ones with a special meaning, no less

he'll never admit it aloud, but he's honored you chose him, of all people, to call a loved one

and so, Epel doesn't fuss too much when you take the liberty of putting the sprig in his front pocket, displaying it like a medal of honor

he might even chuckle at the whole thing

this is almost like something an old couple would do... it reminds him a little of his grandparents, even

"Well... alright. Aren't you as sweet as apple pie today?"

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

"Ah? A gift for me?"

his immediate reaction? how delightful!

how long it's been since he's received flowers like this... ah, they remind him of his youth!

despite his initial excitement, though, Lilia soon becomes far more invested in the meaning behind the gesture than the gesture itself!

he's fostered quite an interest in other cultures and traditions, after all, and he'll be more than glad to listen to you talk about your own for hours, and hours, and hours...

his curiosity is quite charming, isn't it?

perhaps he and his cuteness can convince you to exchange more stories sometime!

Lilia takes such a liking to the tradition, in fact, that he passes it on to Silver, Sebek, and Malleus, giving each a new sprig of lilies with a brief (and somewhat confusing) explanation

(Malleus may have to ask you about that later)

but, of course, Lilia reserves the bragging rights of getting his own flowers directly from you

"Fufufu, I hope this won't be the last time I get flowers from you, Prefect,"

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"Oh, my. For me? They're lovely,"

Vil has received wreaths of roses, bouquets of the finest arrangements, even entire rooms full of flowers from devoted fans and management

but... something about the measly little sprig of lilies you're handing him first thing in the morning is all the sweeter

if there's anything he'll give you credit for, it's your taste in flowers. you must have chosen the best of the bunch especially for him, the way it's practically glowing

as soon as he's done admiring your pick, he pins it to his lapel, and keeps it there for the rest of the day

this color just accentuates his uniform so nicely, doesn't it?

and once you're done reciting your knowledge about the flower, he'll be sure to add his own, explaining the symbolism of such a beauty

"Lily of the valley: a return of happiness... Hm, much like yourself, no?"

(he will not elaborate on what he means by that)

but he does have a little spring in his step for the next few hours

"Oh, and, dear? You can be sure to expect ten times as many of these from me at your door next year,"

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

"Ah, such a lovely shape! you have an incroyable eye for beauty, mon trickster!"

quite frankly, it doesn't matter what day it is; to gift Rook a lovely flower out of the beauty of your heart is enough to send him into a never-ending soliloquy

and now you say these are meant for your loved ones? do you mean to kill him with your thoughtfulness?!

he admires the flower for as long as the day will permit, and then presses it for preservation

he wouldn't want to lose this precious memory, after all!

in fact, he'll frame it riiight next to his bed so he may wake up to the sight of your kindness every morning!

and, just to be sure you know exactly how his heart is overflowing for you, you can expect a poem and dozens of flowers waiting for you on your doorstep the next morning

really... where does he find the time?

if you ask, he'll insist he's only expressing himself to you in the same way you have to him

"I only wish to show my utmost appreciation for your beautiful heart, miel!"

[sulieykte]

𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 - 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

pairing: dilf!jake sully x avatar!reader a/n: this one got a little bit away from me, and ended up a lot more plotty than i intended. warnings: 18+ mdni, age difference, uneven power dynamic, hints at cheating, accidental stimulation. barely proofread word count: 1900+

"Do I have a choice?"

"'Fraid not, kid." Jake said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the glare you shoot him at your least favoured nickname. You hated being thought of as a kid, especially by him. As pathetic as it was, from the moment the hormones had kicked in, you'd held a torch for Jake and you can’t bear the thought that the man who so often visited your dreams thinks of you as a child. By the smirk that graces his annoyingly gorgeous face each time you protested, you had begun to suspect that it only egged him on.

You were younger than all other Avatar drivers, besides Spider, having got your Avatar at twenty-one, over two decades after the others. A much more exciting coming of age than the earth tradition of being allowed to drink. By human standards, you'd been an adult for several years, but you had still not passed that threshold by Na'vi standards. 

The subject of your iknimaya had been a source of many arguments within the clan, and you knew that Jake had done his best to protect you from it, but even his power had limits when faced with the outrage of several clan elders. You were proficient at riding Pa'li, and that had saved you for the first year, but the pressure only got worse after the move to high camp. 

It wasn't that you didn't want to, but your terror of heights had been discovered In your youth when at Lo'ak dragged you along with him and Spider to the Hallelujah Mountains and it took several hours and scratches to poor Norm's face to get you down. Norm had been insistent that you be sedated for the move to High Camp.

"Look, you’ve always wanted to be one of the people, and I know they haven't always been the most welcoming..." His face scrunches in discomfort at the thought, he had done his best to foster a good relationship between the Omatikaya and the humans that remained, but there was only so much he could do after the trauma your people had caused to the Na'vi. You couldn't blame them, but you and Spider, whose only crimes were being born here, had both faced the sting of that trauma many times. "But you see how they are with Spider, he's one of the people now. Don't you want that, kid?"

One of the people was stretching the truth a little in your opinion, but you did want that and you were well aware that your refusal to partake in their clan traditions didn't help matters for you. 

"Besides, what is there to be afraid of? You love Bob!"

"I do love Bob." You agreed, giving the Ikran a pat on the neck and receiving a nuzzle in return. You'd tried to make up for your lack of participation in clan traditions by helping out more around camp. That included caring for the Ikran, and you had grown quite fond of Jake's Ikran, and he you. You look up at Jake, your ears pressing back against your head in a performance that rivalled the many you’d given as a child to get Norm to let you leave Hell’s Gate unattended, looking for an ounce of sympathy that you might elicit from him in a last ditch effort to get out of it. "I also love not hurtling thousands of feet to my death."

You knew it was all over for you when the lines around his eyes became more pronounced and he burst into laughter. 

“Nice try, but if I let you get away with it any longer, people are gonna start thinking I’ve gone soft.” He climbs up onto Bob’s back and reaches out a hand to you. “Come on, you wouldn’t have me ruin my reputation for you, would you? It’s just one ride, I’ll ease you in.”

Defeated, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you up in front of him. You were grateful to be sat facing away from him, it would at least save you from the embarrassment when your body is overtaken by terror, and would disguise some of the blush that heated your cheeks at being in such close proximity to him. You were even more grateful that he’d called you to the edge of the camp under the cover of darkness, so any members of the clan who might spot you would hopefully miss the colour of your cheeks.

You knew your attempts to hide your crush on the Olo’eyktan were not as effective as you might wish. Spider never failed to let you know how obvious your bodily reactions were whenever you were in his proximity, teasing you endlessly for every blush or stutter of your words. Though Spider was sure that Jake was well aware of your infatuation, you were certain he didn’t. He was way too happy to have you around, only giving that devilishly handsome grin of his whenever you found yourself lost for words in his presence. 

“Good girl.” Your body stiffens to stop the shiver that threatens to run down your spine at the sound of his voice, so deep and so so close to your ear as he reaches around you for Bob’s kuru. “When was the last time you trimmed your nails?” He asks, a deep chuckle vibrating against your back at your mumbled ‘that was one time…’. “Okay, you ready?” No, you weren’t and the shake of your head didn’t stop him from guiding each of your hands to grab onto a kuru. “Mirrors. Signal. Manoeuvre.”

Before you can question what the hell that means, the ground disappears from below you and High Camp disappears from your view. You only realise that the sound piercing your eardrums was your own screams when your voice begins to crack, your throat sore from sustaining the sound for so long and his laughter breaks through the sound.

“You back with me, kid?” He has to raise his voice to be heard over the whipping of the wind against your ears, and as awareness of your surroundings returns to you, you see that he’s settled you into a steady glide now, little over the treelines of what used to be the Omatikaya’s home. You’re so focussed on being so close to the place you used to think of as home and the adrenaline rushing through your body, that has your blood pumping and your head spinning, it takes much longer than you’d have liked to realise the position you’ve put yourself in.

In the panic of the descent, you’d all but climbed into Jake’s lap. Leaving no space between your bodies, your tail wrapped so tightly around his calf that you were sure you were cutting off his blood supply and although you’re thankful that it’s no longer Bob you were holding onto when you see the half moon indents in his wrists.

“Oh shit– Fuck! I’m so sorry.” Your body temperature rises several degrees over what you’re certain is safe when the reality of your situation hits you and the dizziness is no longer from height. There’s no way you’re thinking clearly through the blood rush to your head, and either insanity or stupidity takes over you when you try to detangle yourself from Jake all at once, releasing your hold on his arms and leg as you attempt a half baked lunge towards Bob’s neck and away from further humiliation that only leads to you nearly falling head first off of the Ikran and towards your greatest fear. 

“Jesus- Kid!” A strong arm pulls you backward, saving you from hurtling off to certain death but putting you back into the situation you were trying to escape, his thick bicep holding you tight around the shoulders and pressing you into his body. “What the hell are you thinking?” His voice reverberates in your ear, anger or irritation, whatever the tone was it had you blinking back tears. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The apologies flow out of you as the tears wish to, your attempts to wriggle out of his grasp in vain as he only pulled you closer, uttering soft words that you couldn’t hear through the blood rushing to your ears. Your hands reaching to pull at the arm that imprisoned you, every inch of your body moving in the attempt you escape his grasp and further mortification, your nails were much sharper in your Avatar body, but Jake was not as deterred by their assault as Norm had been. “Oh Eywa just let me fall, I’m never getting on one of these things again, you might as well give up–”

Your spine stiffens as he says your name, voice booming to interrupt your shrill rambling. 

“Fuck– stop moving.” He orders, and you realise he’s breathing heavily, his chest pushing against your back as it rises and falls in quick succession as if he’s trying to catch his breath. His bicep tenses, still pressing you securely into his body as he brings you below the treelines and your body relaxes as you see the ground approaching and the comfort of fresh earth below your feet and the omatikaya’s former settlement.

Your body jolts against Jake’s, the landing a little too rough in his rush to get you on solid ground. He grunts, like the wind has been knocked out of him and as quick as he is to break Tsaheylu, he isn’t so fast to let go of you.

“Jake?” You ask, peering over your shoulder as far as his grip would allow. Your body might have relaxed, but he appeared to have picked up all of the tension you’d lost. His eyes were squeezed shut, nostrils flaring in a sharp intake of breath.  Your heart drops, the last person to show understanding for you had finally lost his patience. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak like that. I’ll call Norm and get him to pull me out of the link so you can take my body back.” 

A hand stops you before you can reach your comm, a hand stops your wrist, and when you look around his eyes are open and there’s something in them that you’ve never seen before. No one has ever looked at you like this. Not in any body. Not with the hunger you see looking back at you. 

And then you feel it. Hard and thick against your lower back and you realise why he’d been desperate for you to stop moving. The heat that rises to your cheeks pools between your legs as you realise that you had done that to him, however unintentionally. It could’ve been just a natural reaction, something he couldn’t help, you had been grinding against him in your escape attempt and despite appearances, he was only human. 

But you couldn’t believe that. Not as you hold his gaze, neither of you able to look away. Not when he’s looking at you like he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life, his arm dropping as he releases his hold on you, only for his hands to find your hips, his fingers gripping at your skin. The silence is deafening, only filled with both of your heavy breathing until he breaks it, voice rougher than you were used to.

“Damn, kid. You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t ya?”

taglist: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @goodbird1 @avatarsslut @the-mourning-moon @blue-slxt @loaksulluyswife @multibishh @qweq-6802 @mylovescara @renaimel @xylianasblog @salamandraemcimadocaveirao @neteyamsyawntu

[morbidology]

Daryl Davis, an R&B and blues musician and activist, has shared stages with legendary musicians like Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis. Disturbed by the persistence of racism and driven to foster racial reconciliation, Davis embraced an unconventional approach. He actively sought out leaders of the Ku Klux Klan, engaging them in dialogue, sharing meals, and forming unexpected friendships. In his own unique way, Davis became an ambassador for racial healing.

Despite the atrocities committed by such organizations against people of his race, Davis keeps a "KKK Member in Good Standing" medallion in his wallet. He explained, "I’m completely aware of what those organizations have done to people of my race. But I try to extend my hand in friendships…"

Through his interactions, Davis discovered that many Klansmen harbored misconceptions about people of color, often rooted in indoctrination during their youth. His efforts have led to the departure of 20 to 60 individuals directly from the Klan, and indirectly influenced over 200 others to renounce their affiliations.

[viadescioism]

The Black Karate Federation (BKF)

The Black Karate Federation (BKF) emerged as a response to the events surrounding a pivotal tournament held in 1969, which featured a match between two prominent martial artists, Joe Lewis and Sijo Muhammad, who was then known as Steve Sanders. The establishment of the BKF was motivated by a desire to address issues of unequal opportunity and representation within the tournament circuit, particularly for African-Americans, Hispanics, and other minorities.

The BKF aimed to level the playing field by providing a platform that offered equal opportunities for martial artists from underrepresented backgrounds to showcase their skills and compete on a fair and inclusive basis. In doing so, it sought to break down the barriers and biases that had historically hindered the progress of minority practitioners in the martial arts community.

One of the significant contributions of the BKF was its commitment to fostering the growth and development of young people through martial arts. Recognizing the transformative power of martial arts training, the organization offered karate lessons to young individuals who may not have had the financial means to afford such opportunities. This initiative not only provided access to valuable self-defense skills but also promoted discipline, self-confidence, and personal growth among the youth, particularly in underserved communities.

"Our mission is to create a greater sense of awareness of both physical and mental health, to assist individuals, including at risk youth, in reaching their potential and expanding their social consciousness by establishing goals, building confidence and developing a strong self concept."

[lxmelle]

"When the day turns into night

And you’re way beyond my sight,

I’ll think of you, I’ll think of you.

When the night turns into day

And you still are far away,

I’ll think of you, I’ll think of you.

Even when I am not here

We still can be so very near

I want you to know my dear

I’ll think of you."

Source: Facebook & misterrogers.org/videos/when-the-day-turns-into-night

And think of each other throughout their short lives they did.

Headcannon, analysis and theorising - more under the cut:

I’ll preface with how I’m aware there is some reaching and rambling, but there are so many interesting parallels and foreshadowing in Gege’s work that I’ll be at risk of writing my own “war and peace” with my theories and headcannon. I might be wrong as always, but I hope it makes for an interesting read even if you don’t agree! Comments and reblogs welcome!

I’ve pondered on this theme of lateness. I have another draft post on this topic, but in this scenario it illustrates the impact of riko’s death and their defeat (eventual victory for Gojo) to Toji.

One ascended and the other descended. Arguably one saved the other, and equally debatably, they exchanged paths. However else you wish to explain it, Gojo deferred to Geto who was his moral compass, and was guided back to a sensible path. Geto did not wish to be saved by the time Gojo intervened, but ultimately was saved from himself before he could get too twisted.

Or, was it ultimately still a tale where Gojo was indeed too late, and despite everything he had, he could do nothing?

Nevertheless, their first defeat left them both scarred and changed.

Losing each other was something they never got over - Gojo and Geto had wounds shaped like each other.

One went off to find strength to change the world; the other went off to foster students to change the world. They pursued each other’s forte to make up for the sense of loss from their separation - trying to find completion within themselves and their world around them, but falling short of healing their emotions wounds - until they could meet the other once again to resolve their relational rupture.

Look at these two paralleling each other... papa Geto and Gojo sensei.

Let me start with Geto:

In this world, Geto admitted before his death that he could never smile from the bottom of his heart.

No matter how many people loved him, how much they were willing to dedicate to him by following and trusting him, Geto didn’t feel happy. We see, so touchingly, how much he was loved by his family - Mimiko, Nanako, Miguel, Larue.

Did he ever feel loved? He certainly felt protective over them, but did he feel he mattered, besides being the one who gave them a vision?

It doesn’t seem so. Geto seemed to think little of himself, for someone prideful and egotistical (by his own definition). He lost a sense of security in himself and value following Gojo’s distancing of himself too. Untethered, he probably felt like he was free falling.

I theorise that his desire for a better world was born out of a desire for redemption, and it was a curse to avenge the loss of his youth as well as those who had died under his care - Riko, “Gojo” (pre-enlightenment), and Haibara. Geto had lost himself within a spiral of depression and self-affirmation following the Toji incident.

I sense that his search for meaning and purpose through the protection of others was always an act of self-sacrifice that was exhausting and defeating for him. Just like the consumption of curses. Like a futile attempt at regaining control when he was slowly losing it even more - getting further and further away from what he really needed - to heal from his emotional wounds.

What he needed to resolve was learning that he was loved within the world; that he had a place and belonging there. It didn’t have to be about him being a protector or making a difference. When he was feeling balanced from within (secure), existing in harmony could become possible. The rest could then fall into place.

But how could Geto have faith in the universe, after the system fails them all, his best friend now finds meaning in acting alone (being protective in his own way), he learns that riko’s death/sacrifice was inconsequential, and that his fellow peers would just keep dying if he continued powerlessly chugging on. He began to believe he can only rely on himself in a world separate from jujutsu high.

The only time he can remember feeling safe or having equilibrium was in his youth beside his best friend, Gojo. The primary source of his wound was losing Gojo and the disillusionment of their defeat was not repairable.

For Geto, despite chasing his goals to the best of his ability, he could not smile authentically for all these years. The world that was presented to him felt cruel; like a curse stuck on vengeance and justice, he kept burying himself with lies that he used to avoid facing the inevitable truth that this could only end in one way. It began and will end with Gojo.

He could not replace what Gojo was to him, and the strength he may have envied to fulfil his goal, was a constant reminder of what he had lost - the trust and understanding of someone. His vision of clarity had become costly and darkened as time passed. To gain more power meant he’d become increasingly twisted. Knowing he was on borrowed time, that what he was doing was wrong, that it could only end one way - to Gojo’s hand.

Did Geto, like Yorozu, need to be seen too? Was this the validation he found / sought - to be witnessed? I honestly don’t know, but whatever Gojo and Geto shared, it was more reciprocal than Sukuna and Yorozu. I do wish Geto was more honest with Gojo, but I think it was enough in itself to yield completely to Gojo and accept his end.

Geto had a Gojo-shaped wound that Gojo mercifully filled upon his last moments - showing him unconditional love and regard despite the changes between them.

We are kept out of the last words Gojo delivered, but we see that: He was recognised by the one who had truly mattered to him the most - the one whom he loved, and thought he had lost. He smiled sincerely at the very end.

Geto was shown to shed not one but two tears in Gojo’s afterlife scene. How moved must he have been to receive the regard and love from his best friend? Despite the lack of honest insight from Geto (Gege, you’re so stingy with inner narratives), it seems rather clear that there is something there that only Gojo can ease for him.

As for Gojo:

In his death dream / afterlife scene, Gojo was shown to express to Geto: If you were there, I probably would’ve been satisfied. It was received as loving, as Geto shed tears to this, and we know Gojo deflects from emotions by abruptly changing topics when he gets a bit heavy.

Gojo also describes how, no matter how many people adored him, he felt a distance between them; although he didn’t feel lonely, he could not feel understood in all these years as the strongest.

The line was drawn even more following his enlightenment, and his only memory of connection was with Geto, who had modelled a way for him to connect with those weaker than him and not see them like feeble dirt beneath his feet (as Hajime did) or pursue power like Sukuna did without caring about “worthless” love.

His main reason for being a teacher was also Geto. I headcannon/theorise that it wouldn’t have been the first time Gojo missed him, imagined “what would Geto do?” or saw Geto in his students in those 10+ years. What could he do differently?

Through the impact of Geto’s loss and the power of their love within their friendship, Gojo was compelled to think about others - whether he wished to prevent it from happening again, to reform the jujutsu world, to make room for Geto to potentially return (pre-jjk 0), or to simply understand his students... Gojo stretched himself to carry the emotional and mental load that was almost exclusively Geto’s role in their friendship.

Gojo was never the most nurturing type, but he did his very best - to advise, demonstrate, and protect the youth of these students. Giving them their own blue spring was also an ode to what he shared with Geto. Despite healing a lot and making room for others, Gojo had a Geto-shaped would that only Geto could fill.

What Gojo needed to resolve was to learn to love others - even moreso following his enlightenment in the manner in which he did after Toji - that he did not have to be isolated and alone, that true connection (love) exists and was worthwhile.

Meaning and purpose beyond “just getting kicks” out of being the strongest or wielding his skills beyond self-fulfilment - were all possible - but Gojo only had a limited canvas to work from - it was mostly Geto’s palette that he expanded upon. That he didn’t want to repeat whatever mistakes either of them made if possible.

His main forte was being a skilled sorcerer. This was his primary focus still, because this was just in his nature. Gojo was practically bestowed with the assets for this role. Nobody can blame him for being greedy and coveting more (love/connection he once knew) or attempting more (influencing a new generation). Gojo was meant to be human with all his flaws and thankfully, he kept his humanity.

He ultimately tried to reach and connect to Sukuna - a potential peer whom he could “converse” with, but they were too different. He fulfilled a need to showcase his skill and philosophy to his students - alongside his own personal desire to “go all out” and die gloriously-victorious through giving it his all.

He found the connection he needed right upon his death; meeting Geto and his friends without the need for an encounter at death’s door with Sukuna - unlike Jogo and Hajime who spent their last moments with Sukuna in a dialogue. Gojo didn’t need to talk with Sukuna. They could not understand each other; not when Sukuna did not know real love - even Yorozu did not think so.

To know love is to long for it enough to recognise it.

Since Gojo could not share with Sukuna what he wanted to teach (about love) he was able to tell and share it with the only person he knew who could understand - Geto. Even if Nanami and Haibara didn’t, Geto did.

It’s enough for them, isn’t it?

And it’s enough for us to know their legacy continues. It is so heartwarming to see Gojo’s students and members of Geto’s family being there too - all fighting for their own reasons - to defend and / or in honour of their memory.

[citrus-soju]

I already talked about it in this post, but I want to share all of my thoughts properly.

The Metal Masked Assassin (I'll refer to him as MMA) was an incredibly unlucky person when you think about it. His mother passed away right after he was born. It's assumed she either died of blood loss due to birth complications, or she might have even been murdered, due to her baby being born with albinism.

We don't know anything about his father's whereabouts, if he's alive or dead, if he would take his children in if he knew. Either way, he's not in the picture. But unluckily, MMA was "left a brother".

Logically, we can put together that MMA's brother was older than him. We don't know for sure how many years the two siblings were apart, though. Judging by the picture of them as teens, their age difference doesn't appear to be too great. Of course, MMA might simply be tall, even as a teenager, and looking older than he really is.

There's also a possibility that, while both of them are depicted as teenagers in this picture, Agent 216 was actually already an adult while MMA was still young. It would make more sense for authorities to leave an infant in the care of a relative who's over at least 16 years old than leaving two young children completely on their own.

We can only speculate about their childhood years, honestly, since there is not much known at all. They could have been adopted by a distant relative, placed in a foster family, given up for adoption... But one thing is for sure, just from looking at these pictures - Even as teenagers, they were already prone to violence, and already hiding their faces.

Perhaps they got by thanks to armed robberies, perhaps they were already training to be assassins at this age. Personally, I'm voting for the first option, just because their clothes appear to be in a bad condition, holes and all, which is not the case in the image depicting them as adults. Their weapon of choice is also quite different; the bat and axe being more commonly used for self protection or work, and the machete/knife looking much more professional.

But now to the part I've been wanting to talk about.

Let's start with what we know about Agent 216. According to General Crozier, he is a "trained killer". That means, someone, or some kind of organization, must have taken him under their wing and taught him the art of being an assassin at some point. At least as a teenager. It's never specified where the two assassins got their education from. But however and wherever they spent their youth; Agent 216 was most likely the more skilled assassin, considering he's the one the General confides in and claims to be "perfect".

Ah yes, General Crozier. At least as an adult, Agent 216 must have some sort of connection to the US Military, or at least General Crozier directly, since it's him who personally hires him, and then informs MMA about his death later. No other tribunal members are present, nor are they aware that he was hired to kill, not just to spy.

What I find really interesting is that Agent 216 has a tattoo of the FalconBack Project logo on his left arm. Whatever that means. It makes me wonder if he and Crozier have some kind of connection outside of the deal, and if the assassination attempt on Dethklok was more of a personal favor to the General instead of a one time deal. Whatever connection they have was apparently meaningful enough for Agent 216 to get involved in a top secret project led by Salacia himself - but not his younger brother.

This raises a whole bunch of questions, but that's for another day and another post.

So where is MMA in all this? Where was he in all this?

While MMA is a violent person and seemingly has a passion for murder, what stood out to me is that he is never actually seen involved in any assassination related jobs that don't directly involve avenging his dead brother in a way - besides that one time where he's introduced. The people he fixates on besides Dethklok themselves are Klokateers and Charles Ofdensen, in particular. Perhaps that can simply be blamed on MMA's lack of screen time, but I would leave it up to Brendon Small to consider any small detail.

MMA appears to be as goal driven and determined as he is violent, with only a single goal in mind throughout the entire series - avenging Agent 216, regardless of what it may cost. He's willing to dispose of anyone who gets in his way, including his allies (Magnus).

What I'm thinking is... what if he wasn't even a blade for hire before the death of his brother? What if the only reason why Crozier was able to "hire" him was because of his promise for revenge? What if Agent 216 was the "actual" assassin among them, while MMA was more or less a sick and dependent child who simply got caught up in the situation?

This sounds farfetched but hear me out.

Regardless of how they grew up, regardless of what led up to this point; MMA's older brother was clearly very dear to him. So dear, in fact, that avenging him consumed every bit of space on his mind. While MMA willingly recruited people to assist him in his cause, for the most part, he used people who felt wronged by Dethklok for his own gain. Instead of viewing them as likeminded individuals, he saw them as underlings. Even Magnus, who did most of the "negotiating" during DSR, treated Toki's wounds and fed him, was just a puppet to MMA in the end. Once Magnus didn't cooperate with him anymore (claiming that the death of Ishnifus "wasn't part of his plan"), MMA didn't hesitate to show who's the REAL mastermind behind it all ("this was never your plan").

Throughout the series, we definitely saw that MMA has a tendency to use people for his benefit, and discard them once they're no longer useful to him, without any consideration for their feelings, or even their lives. We also learn that he's not much of a "talker" and much rather a "do-er". He leaves all the talking to Magnus, who dramatically goes off to Toki and Abigail about his reasoning, while MMA is in the background only thinking about revenge and his brother.

He seems to do very poorly with things not going his way. He doesn't listen to instructions from Crozier. He refuses to let Magnus berate him. Like a child, he no longer wants to play the game if it's not by his rules.

This is acquired behavior. Which means, somebody taught him that this is the way to go through live. Most likely - his older brother.

While he clearly holds a lot of admiration for Agent 216, it makes me wonder. The contrast between how much he looks up to his brother and how much he looks down on other human beings is stark. It's almost like he looks up to his brother like he's some kind of God leading him on his path, even displaying his body during the torture of Toki and Abigail. He MIGHT just be a crazy dude with a lust for blood who saw an excuse to kill and torture. He MIGHT just be very obsessed with the only person he has a real connection with.

Or perhaps, his brother isn't the good person he views him as.

I believe Agent 216 might have always made MMA feel inferior to him, knowingly or not. Being labeled the "perfect" assassin, the older brother who was kind enough to raise an abandoned baby, the one fending for them. Plus, with MMA having some visible physical deformities, he most likely was the "better looking" one, too.

Perhaps the reason why MMA isn't seen assassinating anyone for other reasons than revenge is that his brother simply took the spotlight. In the best case, Agent 216 merely wanted to protect MMA from this kind of lifestyle, both because he's his little brother who he cared for, as well as considering Albinism comes with a long list of potential health issues, depending on the exact diagnosis. Examples are vision problems, ranging from nystagmus (rapid uncontrollable eye movements) to legal blindness, sensitivity to (sun)light in both eyes and skin, a weaker immune system, a higher risk of infections, premature aging, etc.

Or perhaps all these things were a lot of excuses for Agent 216 to treat his little brother harshly and cast him into the shadows.

Tidbits that made me put this together in my mind would be, for example, the fact that MMA is covered in scars, while Agent 216 is not. Strange, considering that his targets are mostly seen tied up, hanging from hooks or otherwise immobilized. And somehow, all these scars look the same. They all look as if they were inflicted by... a machete perhaps.

In early concept art, MMA is shown with what appears to be burn marks. They almost look as if they were deliberately inflicted on him. The spotting doesn't exactly appear like he got caught in a fire, much rather that they came from separate instances.

And one more thing, which might just be an observation I made that you might disagree with. But as someone who worked with both abused and disabled children in the past... I recognize some of his patterns and behaviors.

Looking up to the one person caring for him without even a second thought. Enduring great pain for their sake. HAPPILY doing so. Not being great at dealing with instructions. Not handling it well when someone disagrees with him or even scolds him. Letting the "adult Magnus" do the talking for him in difficult situations. Struggling to relate to people, perhaps even due to low emotional intelligence, or simply not understanding that people have feelings. Not CARING if they have feelings, possibly. Using people for his benefit, then discarding them like dolls he's done playing with once they're not useful anymore.

All acquired behaviors somebody taught him in his life.

Considering his condition, harsh upbringing and visible deformities, it wouldn't surprise me if he was a younger age mentally. His behavior is almost childlike in ways. The way he phrases things, too. Revengencers, instead of Revengers. The fact that he has these scars, yet his brother didn't have a single one on him.

This might be a reach. A big reach. But what if Agent 216 had him completely wrapped around his finger. All like "I had to endure so much for your sake, so I have a right to take my anger out on you", and perhaps followed up by an "I do this because I love you and because that's the only way you learn". I can see him making MMA feel inferior, for his appearance, for needing food, medication, comfort. Guilty for "killing" their mother. For being a burden. How dare he want love. Isn't it enough that he puts his life on the line for him every day? What is love? Baby don't hurt me

To me, he's a lost, disabled person stuck in a trauma bond with his brother until the end.

[bdsmrist]

i know the game goes in detail about joyce’s pearly white teeth, but what about the other character’s teeth?

harry’s teeth would be surprisingly straight, but yellowed from the years of substance abuse. probably has worn down gums, too. still, i think it adds to his character. its like he has a golden smile, in a way. and funnily enough, altho hes been aware of his teeth’s condition throughout the years, that’s never stopped him from smiling. not just because of “the expression” necessarily, but because he loves giving that to ppl. loves letting them know his happiness is directed at them

kim’s teeth would be crowded. especially the bottom row. its unlikely he could afford dental care in his youth with being in the foster care system and all. and he’s probably a little insecure about it. but the few times he flashes you a smile, you can see the how one if his canines pushes the incisor in, and its the most charming thing ever; how his sharp tooth pokes out to say hello. god, i bet he has the warmest smile ever, even warmer than harry’s. it comes sparingly, and he avoids doing it, but when he does, its like god’s gift to you

jean’s teeth seem pretty normal at first glance. u dont get to see em much; he doesnt rly smile that often. nothin to smile abt in this world. however, when he *does* smile, u notice one of his premolars are missing (harry probably noticed it pretty quickly) but if u were to ask him how and why that is, its probably the most anticlimactic thing ever. not “i got my teeth knocked out on a mission once” but rather “i ate shit once middle school and thats that”

im pretty sure it’s canon that ruby has a gap tooth, which is hot and does get her bitches. but i think she just has small teeth in general, with the exception of her two front teeth. like the kind that in retrospect kinda look like shark teeth. its so cool. and also shes a side-smiler, a smirker, if you will. too powerful for this world.

idk man, i feel like teeth are often times an indicator of peoples socio-economical background that isnt talked about enough (hence, joyce’s teeth being something harry notes first hand). but i dont think we’re meant to have “perfect” teeth. teeth have stories, and hold records of our lives. and with how nuanced every single character of the disco-verse is, i dont doubt everyones smile says something unique about them.

[writing-sideblog-behind-books]

yoichi kisses kudo with desperation. he pours everything of himself into the kiss in the hope that if they have to die he will at least be firt. his brother is vengeful and on a war path and the quirk he forced on yoichi is not enough to stop him. none of them are. and when he finds they they are all dead. yoichi needs to be among the bodies. couldn't bear going back into his brother's cage. his heroes are dead. kudo doesn't know how he got it but as he's bleeding all over bruce's cuts he hopes that yoichi's legacy won't die with him. it's hikage that figues it out and takes the burden off of bruce's shoulders. now when he'll inevetably have to face that Demon this power won't die with him. it's hikage that gives it to daigoro when his body can't deal with the quirk anymore. aware, he's condemning this man to death either by his body betraying him or getting discovered by Him. daigoro is dying when he gives en the quirk. it's a last desperate move and en hadn't even known of the quirk but he won't have the quirk die with him. won't allow the Monster to get away with killing the last piece of his brother and their only hope. En plans to give Nana the quirk for a long time, tells her what he knows of it's history and helps her train her body to recieve it. Then, he is found and Nana recieves it not in a controlled, secret location but on the side of a devestating battle where she chokes down a blodied stand of hair and her tears. The seventh user of their quirk is also the first one to have a child. her son has a wide, toothy smile and nana loves him more than anything. she hides him away before she goes to her death. yagi, ever the loyal student fights to stay by her side but she can't let this be the end. if she fails to beat this Evil there needs to be hope. Yagi, with his endless kindness and bright smile will be that hope. and when he grows strong enough he'll put and end to this endless cycle of condemnation and death. she's sure in her entire heart of that. kotaro is a stange child but his foster family attributes it to the shock of the sudden abandonment of his mother. izuku teaches all might to be more than he is. brings light into his live and lets him relearn to love himself. their mission is over. all for one dead. but it's his sensei's legacy and even with it's purpose fullfilled it can still bring hope, can still save lives. hana is a a bright child, as weird as her father in his youth - before he learned to hide it, before the spark left him - and too smart for her age. izuku gets the quirk after only a few months of training. it flows in his veins and explodes his limbs at first but it feels right. like it was always supposed to be this way. like the emptiness in his body was waiting for it his whole life. tenko is shy and quiet but there is intelligence in his eyes also. he and hana are strangely close, something pulling them together. as he grows older he grows into the weirdness, unlike his father and his sister. he is quirkless and there is space in him for IT to settle. then he gets lost on the playground and a strange man returns him home. memories spark to light as the man ruffles tenko's head and he flinches back with sudden, inexplicable terror. he comes home in tears and everyone believes it's the scare of getting lost. not soon after this tenko's quirk activates and in a terrible accident, he kills his entire family. as izuku gains control over their quirk he starts thirsting for the history of it. for the names and stories of those before him. not just their names but their favorite colors. it's stange but especially after the sports festival he feels as though he's sharing a flat with stangers. meeting shigaraki at the mall, those fingers closing around his neck belw the fear, a feeling of intense deja-vu hits him and yearning sparks along his veins like lightning. it's like his quirk is calling out to this villain.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Ok so I really wanna ask something 🙏🏽

How do you think this all panned out? After Genesis discovered the truth, did he ever actually confront his foster parents when he came to Banora? You know..before he killed them? Was it quick or did his parents desperately try to reason with him before their demise? In my mind I can imagine Gen was kind of losing it from the hurt and betrayal, especially for him and his clones to go out and slaughter all the townspeople but idk

I'm a sucker for angst (as we all are around here) x

The degradation not only affected his body but also his mind profoundly—though it does not excuse his actions. I know It's widely accepted that Genesis's parents were assholes, but I like to give them nuance like every parent in the franchise (minus Hojo fuck him) and make them dismissive, but caring in their own way, and it stems from a scene that I've overanalyzed to shit:

In that scene where Zack and Tseng find Genesis in the factory, Zack says that Gen's parents would’ve given Shinra false information without the need for threats, and Genesis’s demeanor completely shifts. In an earlier scene, Lazard alludes to how his parents could be lying to cover for him, so what was Genesis’s reaction here? Guilt? Anger because Zack pointed out his parents were loyal? Anger because Zack insinuated that his parents cared for him and Genesis knew they didn't?

He goes from lounging on the ground, seemingly smug and unaffected with his little Loveless copy, to abruptly standing up, proclaiming, "My parents betrayed me. They have always betrayed me from the very beginning," and hurling a ball of fire at Tseng. I might be reading too much into this, but that scene always stuck out to me.

In any case, you’ve given me a really good prompt and you asked for angst! So here you go:

-

He wasn’t blind to how privileged he was, even as a child. He knew some children in the village with unhappy home lives and parents who did not speak to each other, others whose financial conditions wrecked their families. Genesis became hyper-aware of that privilege when his best and only friend became one of them. Angeal lost his father young, being raised by a single mother in the latter half of his youth who did not make enough to support both herself and her son.

And then he met Sephiroth, another victim of an unhappy childhood, who had no parents and grew up confined to the walls of the same company that curated his birth.

Genesis was the odd one out in their trio, the only one who knew what a stable home life was like, to have two healthy parents—although he was not a healthy child. He was the only one who did not know what it was to not come home to two people at the end of the day, to not have every one of your whims indulged in. Granted, weren’t perfect.

As a child Genesis would call them strict. Genesis grew up needing to be perfect, to make them proud, someone that they could gloat over, which was why they posed no objection when he wanted to join SOLDIER. His father was a proud man, a prominent figure in Banora’s gentry, head of a house older than Banora itself. But he was fair, which was one of Genesis’ favorite qualities about him. He never discouraged his son’s theatrics, seeing them as opportunities for prestige. So he allowed Genesis fencing lessons, writing, and theater, and agricultural pursuits, all under the condition that he excelled in all areas. Genesis was set on pleasing them as a child, vying to be the best, the most awarded, and to give his parents all the awards they wanted.

This pleasing attitude began to wane when he hardened into a young man. He longed for independence, making use of his hidden base in the Banora mines, oftentimes favoring his hiding spot over his room back at home. Suffocated by his parents and their demands, he longed for independence, to move to the city and make a name for himself.

The arguments in the Rhapsodos house were plentiful when Genesis had grown into a reckless and headstrong teenager, always combative in his replies and with a tongue sharper than his sword.

But people grow and change, as did Genesis. He became a proud man, just like his father. Perhaps all the years he ingrained in Genesis's head that he needed to be the best finally got to him, and the need to be loved, glorified, and perfect became him.

His relationship with them became better as an adult, although his mother never changed.

Genesis understood his mother, granting her the compassion he did not give his father in his youth. She was at times overbearing, always fussing over him, with a hand over his forehead making sure his temperature was fine and an eye so critical and vain one would’ve thought he inherited from her had he been her biological son.

Mrs. Rhapsodos could not have children of her own, an upsetting condition to have with a social circle that prided itself over their heirs. The couple eagerly accepted the sickly baby when Shinra offered him to them. By their understanding, the baby had been a failure, not meeting Hollander’s standard and unfit to be theirs. The Rhapsodos did not see him that way. For people who had longed for a child, the one they were given was perfect beyond comparison. And perfect he would be, no matter how hard they would have to push him.

As a child, Genesis was careful not to track mud into the house. Springs in Banora were rough, with rain so insistent on decimating the local plantation, that it turned even the finest sand on the ground into mud. Mrs. Rhapsodos liked her plush white carpets, and Genesis knew the punishment for sullying the polished floors of the house would be severe. She knew where to hit her son where it hurt, knowing where he kept his flashlight he used to read late at night—unaware that the mako and enhancements in Genesis’s blood made him fit to see at night—and she knew to confiscate his books—unaware that when Genesis really liked a book, he memorized it to not need the pages to entertain himself.

It was a silly story to tell now as a man, trudging through the mud and rainfall in the middle of a Banora spring. He was coming back from Hollander’s lab with a stack of files under his arm, their contents so horrific that he thanked the rain for concealing his tears from any passersby. They had given him indefinite leave after the events in the training room. The wound in his shoulder wasn’t getting better, his duties were getting harder to fulfill by the day, so they sent him home until his condition improved.

But Genesis didn’t plan on staying there for long, especially after what he had just discovered, after what Hollander had confessed to.

His already fragile mind was a wreck.

Genesis didn’t bother to kick off his muddy boots when he went inside the house that day, watching the debris stain the white carpet, like the disbelief and rage quietly rolling off his shoulders. He rejected the maid who tried to get him to take his wet coat off, holding the files closer to him as he walked through the house. He heard laughter and the sound of talking and soft piano coming from the parlor room. It blended with the sound of his heavy breathing and footsteps. He stood at the doorway, holding the files tighter than before, forcing himself to look at them.

The question ‘Why?’ came in and out of mind, leveling with the hurt in his chest that refused to go away, competing with the pain in his shoulder that had become constant. His father sat at the piano, playing a few keys as he debated with his mother. She sat on the opposite armchair, working through her correspondences while they talked. As soon as their son’s presence became known, their conversation stopped at once.

Had he been a boy, he would’ve worried about his mother scolding him for the mud. Now he just stared at her. Mother was such a strong term.

“Genesis?” She sounded concerned and nothing but, putting her book down and rising from her seat at once. “Have you been out in the rain in your condition? Goddess help me,” she sighed, reaching instinctively for his wet coat, stopping to wipe away the rainwater from his face. “The cold can’t be good for your shoulder, darling.” He let her tug his coat away, keeping the files close to him. “What would happen if you caught a cold to complement your injury? What would people say? They'd think we're killing you to collect checks, that's what.”

His father rose from the piano, looking at him just as he did when he was a naughty child, staying out too long in the rain with Angeal and coming back with scraped knees.

“What were you doing out?” he asked, sinking his hands into the pockets or his trousers, looking at Genesis from his muddy shows to his wet hair. “Where did you go? Did anyone see you like that?”

Genesis stood still, watching.

He felt his mother's hand on the bandaged part of his shoulder, muttering something about having them changed and sterilized again.

“I went to visit Dr. Hollander,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “No one who matters saw me in this state, rest assured.”

His father nodded. “Is it your injury? Has the pain gotten worse?”

Genesis shook his head. “Just some conversation.” He glanced down at the files in his arms. “I needed to clarify some…things.” So many things.

His cryptic words fell on deaf ears to his mother, who gave his wet coat to a house staff before turning her attention back to him. “I’m going to run you a proper bath. The only thing you're going to achieve by bathing in the rain is an early grave.”

His mother brushed the wet hair out of his eyes. She was irritated, but she meant well, even if Genesis’s fortified mental state was slipping before he could realize that.

“I don’t think the rain can promise me something I already have.”

His mother's hand froze. “Genesis,” she said warningly.

His father laughed, likely trying to alleviate the tension and play into his son’s dark humor. “

Genesis looked down at her. He wasn't sure if none of it made sense, or if everything fell into place so perfectly he could no longer deny the absurdity of his life so far. His name was Genesis, for god's sake. The first one. The failed one. Half of Project G. Soon to be martyred for his belief that he could be anything but what he was born as—broken.

He shook her off, turning his back and starting out of the parlor. “I can take care of that bath myself. Excuse me.”

They were complacent in his pain right now. It could've been avoided if they had been honest with him from the beginning, instead of cradling him in lies.

“Are you sure?” She pressed. Genesis had started up the stairs when he was forced to look back at her again. It hurt every time he had to.

She was leaning on the edge of the banister. His father had come out to look at him too. They both looked concerned. It sickened him. How could they still feign concern even now? He was dying. It had already been done.

“I'm sure.” His voice cracked. He continued up the stairs, trying his hardest not to look at the photographs on the wall, the ones where the three look like a happy family, like he was their son instead of a fostered science project they were being paid to keep.

“Angeal called while you were out,” his father said. “He and Sephiroth have been trying to contact you. They told us to have you call them when you're home.”

Genesis nodded. “I'll see to it. Thank you.”

“I hope you haven't been ignoring them,” his father continued. “Need I remind you that a rift between the three of you could end up in the news.”

Genesis rolled his eyes.

When he reached the top, he leaned against the corner. He would never admit it to himself but he had to catch his breath after activities as minuscule as pulling his weight.

From there, he could hear their soft voices at the bottom when they thought he was out of earshot.

“You don't think it's scarlet fever again, is it?” his mother asked, exasperated. “He did look a bit red.”

His father hummed in amusement. “His hair is red and so is half of his wardrobe.”

“You know what I mean!”

He could hear a clinking glass that told him his father had gotten into the liquor at the table at the bottom of the steps. “Boys his age are complicated. How would you feel if you were put on leave for an injury you had no promised cure for?”

“Surely Dr. Hollander will—”

“I wouldn't put your faith in that man if I were you.”

“You watch your mouth. Hollander has done more to try to help him than any other doctor.”

“I'm being realistic, dear.” There was a pause. “The best we can do for him right now is pray and be here for him with whatever he needs.”

A choked cry from his mother. “Oh, my poor boy…Do you think he's lonely? He's away from his friends.”

Genesis could practically feel his father shake his own head as he took a sip of his brandy. “From what Angeal said, it's my understanding that he's not speaking to either Sephiroth or him.”

His mother huffed. “They were such good friends. He and Angeal have been attached at the hip since they were infants, and Sephiroth has been an amazing influence on him, don't you think?”

“Sephiroth did deliver the blow, dear.”

She gasped. “He's mad at him. Oh, what have I told that boy about holding grudges? Stubbornness that severe leads to a life of loneliness and unpopularity.”

“He's in pain, dear.”

“I'll go run him that bath, and perhaps drown him in oils if that is what it takes to wipe that frown off of his face. Goddess forbid anyone see him in that state. What would people say?”

Genesis heard his mother shuffling up the stairs. He stayed still. A single teardrop rolled down his cheek. He felt light-headed, gripping the wall for support as he caught his breath.

His father sighed disapprovingly. “He's a grown man—”

“—and as frail as he was the day we got him,” Mrs. Rhapsodos snapped.

Weeks passed, and Genesis found himself back at SOLDIER, back to his duties despite Sephiroth and Angeal’s reservations. Their conversations were rocky, with Genesis keeping to himself mostly, and opting to open up to Angeal mostly.

His shoulder still ached, a constant reminder of his vulnerability, but he pushed through the pain, determined to prove himself capable.

Returning to the familiar routines of SOLDIER life, Genesis buried himself in his work, throwing himself into missions with a fervor that bordered on recklessness. He sought solace in the adrenaline of battle, the rush of combat temporarily numbing the storm in his mind.

The revelations from his visit to Hollander lingered in his mind. He needed to do something, to act quickly and find a cure.

But as the days turned into weeks, Genesis found himself increasingly isolated, the rift between him and his friends widening with each passing day. Sephiroth and Angeal's concern only served to fuel his resentment, their attempts to reach out were met with cold indifference from him.

Genesis seized the first opportunity to embark on that mission to Wutai, abandoning the dreaded company that ruined his life, he found himself at the helm of a formidable force, half of SOLDIER standing behind him.

He did see his parents again after that. He confronted them the same week he returned with his army. Screams echoed through the halls of the old house, mingling with the sounds of shattering glass and the metallic tang of blood staining his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he unleashed the full force of his fury on his surroundings, refusing to address them as anything but mere strangers.

He hurled threats and accusations, his voice raw as he demanded answers, refusing to relent until they finally confessed.

His mother pleaded with him to let go of his anger. He told her that he was no son of hers. It was too late for reconciliation, and that night was the last he saw them.

Despite the pain and regret that gnawed at their hearts, his parents understood his reaction. They grappled with their own remorse, haunted by the realization that they had failed him in more ways than one. They lamented their shortcomings, wishing they had been more understanding, less rigid, more nurturing.

But their regrets remained unspoken, buried beneath layers of guilt and shame. And when the Turks came searching for Genesis in Banora, they chose to keep their encounter with him a secret, pleading with them, telling him that he was sick and not in his right mind.

In the end, their silence spoke volumes. Shinra got no information about Genesis's whereabouts from them, even if they knew about what was being done down at the factory.

Amidst the chaos of the degradation consuming his mind and body, there came fleeting moments of lucidity, like brief flickers of a dying flame in his mind. Genesis found himself trapped in an echo chamber of desperation, his thoughts consumed by the haunting verses of LOVELESS, recited on autopilot like a broken record.

For a time, he drifted in a haze, his vision clouded by hallucinations of grand battles and elusive cures, lost in a world of his own making. He moved through the motions of life like a puppet on strings, his once sharp mind dulled by the relentless onslaught of his deteriorating condition.

Autopilot became his default state, his every action guided by instinct and prophecy rather than reason. He grew distrustful of the path he walked, his anger and hurt festering like a poison within him.

It was at the tail end of his ruthless attack on Banora, when it all briefly returned to him. By then, his morals and senses had been corrupted by the insidious parasite eating away at his brain, transforming him into a cruel, unrelenting shell of his former self.

But in that brief moment of clarity, he saw them—his parents, their lifeless forms at his feet. It was a sight that pierced through the fog of his mind, stirring something deep within him. Despite the cruelty he had inflicted upon them, despite the lies and betrayal, his heart tightened with a pang of remorse. The copies had gotten to them, just as he knew they would.

So he did what little he could to atone for his sins. With trembling hands, he buried them, giving them the dignity of a proper burial. As he worked, visions of his past flooded his mind like a river, washing over him with bittersweet nostalgia.

He remembered the simple joys of his childhood—apple picking with his mother, following his father on business trips to the city.

But even as the memories washed over him, he knew they were nothing more than a facade, a cruel illusion designed to keep him ignorant and complacent.

"The grave at the house," Tseng's voice cut through the tension. "We found the remains of our people there as well."

Genesis's mind raced, the words of Loveless echoing in his ears like a mantra. "It didn't take much to have them send false reports," he said coolly, "Just some mild threats…"

Zack's voice broke through the haze. "They would have done that anyway. At least your parents would have."

It was like a glass shattering over Genesis's head. Slowly, he looked up, unfurling himself from his position on the floor. Rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to erupt into a fiery inferno.

"My parents betrayed me," he spat, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "They had always betrayed me from the very beginning."

As Zack's words sank in, Genesis felt a surge of indignation rising within him. How dare they speak of things they didn't understand, to accuse him as if he were the villain? He was the hero, the chosen one, destined for greatness.

Fire glowed ominously from his bracer.

They didn't know anything at all.

[nyxhaven]

A Forbidden Chapter (gale x tav)

Amidst the ancient tomes of Blackstaff Academy's library, a secret liaison unfolds between Gale Dekarios, a distinguished wizard, and Tav, his promising student. Their connection transcends the bounds of mentorship, weaving together passion and the pursuit of forbidden knowledge. As sparks fly and desires ignite, the clandestine affair leads them to the academy's restricted section, where the boundaries between magic and desire blur, and they delve into the mysteries of both their hearts and the arcane arts.

(SMUT 18+ MDNI teacher x student au, Tav is an adult (20) going to blackstaff academy)

(it’s a lana del ray type of vibe this time.)

Today, Gale had invited Tav, a promising new student, to assist in collecting rare tomes for extra credit. The decision to choose Tav had been fueled not just by their eagerness but also by the undeniable connection he felt with the young mage.

In the weeks leading up to this moment, Gale had noticed Tav's presence in his class, and he couldn't help but admire the way their eyes sparkled with curiosity. Tav's work had always stood out, their talents shining through, but it was their dedication to learning and the subtle smiles exchanged in class that had truly caught Gale's attention.

Gale, being a skilled and observant teacher, had praised Tav's progress subtly, giving them knowing looks during lectures that conveyed encouragement and a connection beyond the classroom. Today's invitation was an extension of his desire to foster that connection, to share not only knowledge but also an unspoken understanding that transcended the boundaries of teacher and student.

As they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of the library, Tav's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and affection. The unspoken tension had grown between them, and with each book they collected, Gale's admiration for Tav only deepened. It was a connection that felt like fate.

Tav, with youthful enthusiasm, climbed the ladder on the bookshelf reaching out far for a book. Stretching their arm out far to grab the spine of the book and slipping off, it was in that moment of near-fall that Gale's reflexes kicked in. With a swift, yet gentle motion, he reached out, his strong arms catching Tav just in time.

“If you wanted to get closer to me, Tav, I'd prefer a more direct approach,” Gale said softly.

Tav, caught in Gale's embrace, felt the solidness of those broad shoulders and the warmth of his presence. There was an unspoken intimacy in that fleeting connection, an unspoken promise of protection and guidance. Gale's steady grip conveyed not just physical support but also a sense of mentorship and trust.

Their eyes met, and in that brief, charged moment, the unspoken tension between them seemed to intensify. The library held its collective breath as if aware of the growing connection, and the exchange of more than just books hung heavily in the air.

“Thank you, Mr. Dekarios. I'll make sure to be more careful next time.”

With a mixture of longing and hesitation, Gale, being mindful of his role as a teacher, leaned in, his lips gently pressing against Tav's. His kiss held a world of unspoken emotions, pulling away, but before he could even finish apologizing quietly, Tav responded with a passionate kiss of their own. It was a confirmation of feelings that could no longer be contained, an affirmation of a connection that defied boundaries and rules.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, with books as their silent witnesses, Gale and Tav shared a moment of profound connection, where their hearts and lips spoke a language only they understood. The unspoken bond between mentor and student had now transformed into something deeper, something they were both willing to explore.

The moment of shared intimacy in the library lingered, its allure drawing Gale and Tav closer. As they exchanged a knowing look, the desire for more knowledge tugged at their hearts, and they couldn't resist the forbidden allure of the academy's restricted section.

With a silent nod, Gale, his robes trailing behind him, led the way toward a hidden door at the far end of the library. The door was adorned with intricate sigils, ancient warding runes meant to deter curious students, but Gale's expertise allowed him to bypass these protections with ease.

Tav followed, their pulse quickening, a sense of exhilaration coursing through them. The door creaked open, revealing a passage that led deeper into the heart of the restricted section. The air in this hidden chamber was heavy with the weight of forbidden knowledge, and the shelves were lined with tomes that held secrets too dangerous for the average mage.

As they ventured further into this clandestine world of forgotten spells and dark rituals, Gale's hand brushed against Tav's, sending a shiver down their spine. It was a fleeting touch, but it carried the promise of something more profound.

Tav couldn't help but steal glances at Gale, admiring the grace with which he navigated the labyrinthine shelves, and the wisdom that radiated from him. With each stolen glance, the bond between them deepened, and the knowledge they were seeking seemed to pale in comparison to the connection they were forging.

In the restricted section, where the boundaries of morality and the allure of the arcane blurred, Gale and Tav were on the brink of discovering not only hidden spells but also the mysteries of their own hearts.

Deep within the labyrinthine depths of the restricted section, Gale and Tav ventured further into the heart of the arcane secrets. The dim light and the heavy atmosphere seemed to heighten their connection, the desire for forbidden knowledge entwined with their growing attraction. The tunnels of books opened up to a large common area, similar to the main Blackstaff library, just not lit up and with no windows. Gale snaps his fingers, and the candles, chandeliers, and large fireplace ignited with flames, illuminating the walls of ancient forgotten books surrounding them. A large couch and plush rug appeared by the fireplace.

Gale took Tav's hands into his, rubbing small circles on Tav's knuckles. “Is this okay? Say it now; we'll leave, and you'll never see me anymore.”

“I don't know what I want; I just know that this feels right.”

Tav’s heart raced as Gale pulled them close, his touch now more urgent and passionate. Their lips met in a kiss that was deeper and more fervent than before, reflecting their shared hunger for more than just knowledge. Gale's fingers tangled in Tav's hair, and their bodies pressed together, entwined in the ancient magic that surrounded them.

As the kiss deepened, the boundaries between mentor and student blurred, and the allure of the forbidden merged with their longing for one another. Gale's hands explored Tav's body with a sense of familiarity, igniting a fire within them both. The silent library seemed to amplify the intensity of their connection, the hidden chamber now a sanctuary for their desires.

Gale pulled Tav down onto the plush rug with him, laying Tav on their back. He unbuttoned their robe, slowly pulling it off their shoulders. Placing kisses along Tav's collarbone, down the middle of their chest. Tav's breath hitched to Gale’s touch; noticing it, Gale pulled back. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine; I've just never done anything like this before. I've kissed people.” Tav rambled, becoming flustered and nervous. They turned their face away from Gale's gaze. Feeling long fingers pull their jaw back to his face.

“That's just fine; I'll be sure to go slow, and if you wanna stop, just say so, darling.”

Tav's body relaxed; Gale's words comforted them. Tav leaned back into Gale, kissing him, needy, sloppy, youthfully excited. Gale's scruff rubbed Tav's soft skin as they deepened their kiss. Gale stood over Tav, his feet on both sides of their hips; he untied the waistband of his robe, slowly disrobing himself, leaving him in tight gray briefs, showing his large bulge. A gulp came from Tav's throat; Gale noticed the worry and anticipation on their face. Gale's finger beckoned Tav to lean up and come closer.

Tav's face at height with Gale's hips, they cupped the clothed bulge, kissing the cock over the cloth for a little bit before Gale's dick couldn't help it anymore and his head escaped the waistband of his briefs. Tav took the invitation to pull down his underwear; he helped by stepping out of them, kicking them away. Tav took the time to slip their robe off, remaining in their delicacies.

Grabbing the base of Gale's cock, Tav began to pump; a deep moan found its way to Gale's mouth. Knowing their doing good work, they continued to pump Gale's cock, kissing his crown and balls. Gale's breaths came quicker, grabbing a handful of Tav's hair to guide them to the places to kiss while they still stroked Gale. Kissing under his balls or the part where his dick meets his thighs.

Gale cupped the bottom of Tav's head, making them look up. “Last week, your essay on illusions needed some help to make up for the credit. Care to indulge in my lecture,” he said in a disciplinary voice. Tav let out a small nod, trying not to show the excitement of wetness coming from their core.

Gale leaned over, whispering into Tav's ear. “Go bend over that desk.”

Following the orders, Tav leaned over the desk, luckily, it's smoothed and polished. Gale sauntered over, extending his hand and muttering a small incantation; another arm extended, separating into a whole other Gale. Gale's illusion came around to Tav's face, kneeling down to their level; Gale came from behind Tav, palming Tav's ass, pulling off their undergarments. He spread them open, taking in the view of Tav bent over. “By the gods, looks like I won't be needing any grease with the mess you've already made.” Taking his finger, he rimmed your hole using your own slick while Gale's illusion kissed you before standing up, his cock at the height of Tav's lips. Tav took Gale's illusionary cock into their mouth. His illusion rocked their hips into Tav's mouth. Gale, meanwhile, slipped a finger into Tav, slowly stretching them before adding a second, hearing their moans muffled on the illusionary's dick. It pulled out, leaving strings of saliva dripping from Tav's lips. “How are we feeling so far, young scholar?” Gale said teasingly about Tav's love for knowledge and praise.

“Please… please, Mr. Dekarios, don’t stop.” Tav whimpered. Resuming, Gale's illusion went back to gagging Tav with their dick. Gale chuckled with eagerness. Knowing they had been stretched out, Gale brought the tip of his dick to Tav, teasing their hole. Finally, hitching his tip into them, he slid further in. Tav's moan was suffocated by Gale's double stuffing their mouth, only bringing their dick out here and there to let Tav moan loudly and breathe. Feeling Gale's length inside them; this was nothing Tav could have ever experienced. Gripping the back of the double's thighs for support while Gale held their hips, bucking into them. Reaching into Tav fully, Gale hit Tav's g-spot, letting off the first wave of intense pleasure throughout their body.

Gale felt Tav's knees buckle; he continued to thrust into them, sending the next wave of pleasure.

“Mr. Dekarios, I'm getting close,” Tav panted between breaths.

“Don’t hold back on me; show me what you're capable of doing,” he said, leaning in to Tav's ear. Dismissing his illusion, Tav's moans became louder, echoing through the shelves of the forgotten library. Tav couldn't hold back, succumbing to their orgasm, cumming. “Good now, let’s see if we can get you to do it again.”

Gale slowed his thrust, resetting his groove, fully pulling himself out then fully reinserting himself into Tav. Slowly he picked back up a solid rhythm, making Tav cum another time was easy. Reaching his own climax, Gale gripped Tav's hips; it most definitely would leave small bruising to remind Tav back in their dorms of what they did. Bucking his hips harder, chasing his release, Gale's moans slipped from his mouth, sloppy and unpolished, marked by a few curse words, pulling out and pumping his load onto the back of Tav. Sitting there for a second, both of them with heavy breathing, the only thing to be heard in the library.

Gale cleaned Tav off before they lay back on the couch by the fire, while Gale sat and read a book of some of his favorite poems, savoring this moment for just a little bit longer before having to return to the academy. Gale acted as if none of this happened in class; he still gave Tav the same look he did tonight in class to remind them of this day and how he hoped for more secret rendezvous.

[pan-magi]

Happy Mother's Day!

(for those who celebrate and for the countries it's celebrated in. I know that not everybody does).

The mothers of Magi are great. I don't necessarily mean all good. The quality (how good they are as mothers) ranges largely from amazing to Gyokuen. That, in itself, is amazing. I like to see parents that aren't the same note, whether good or bad. It's also nice with the variety of mothers especially.

I want to take the time on focusing on one of them, and my conclusion that the most interesting character study in this regard is Scheherazade.

She is a deeply flawed person in this regard. She's a shit mother for the majority of the time with Titus. However, I do not believe it is intentional on her part, or something that she even recognizes right away.

I want to make clear before I get too deep into this that I still love Scheherazade as a character, and this isn't an attack against her but more so an examination of how her motherhood compares to being decent and how it doesn't.

The root of the problem is Scheherazade is the parent who just expects her children to be like her. So much so that she ignores all the agency that they have to be their own person, which will determine that they have different things to give a shit about, ones that do not align with hers.

This makes sense as she makes them as clones, to do something she cannot or else the main one to keep her youth. They are her in the most literal sense. Titus has had self-awareness sustained to where he develops his own thoughts and perspectives. Then Scheherazade doesn't recognize it right away. Eventually, but not right away.

The second flaw for Scheherazade being a good mother is that she loves Reim and the nation she fostered to a fault.

Again, this is something that she recognizes and relents to after being confronted with it. That the love of the country she helped foster and built is actually fucked in some ways. That maybe, quite possibly, being an imperialist slave-trading/owning state is fucked. No shit. How does this impact on how she's a mother to Titus? She uses him as a rally to her troops when invading Magnoshutatt. Scheherazade acts as if he was kidnapped, and that a goal of taking Magnoshutatt is to take him back and bring him to safety. Since it is a message given to the whole battlefield, Titus does hear it and recognizes the bullshit, not that any of the Reim soldiers can see him.

That is messed up to use your authority over a child (or anyone dependent on you) as a reason to harm anyone else and acting like the child endorses the behavior. If someone is fighting for someone else, with the knowledge and consent of that person, yeah, that's cool. If it's defending someone else, like someone standing in between one party and danger, yup, checks out. Using someone else and their perceived safety to actively attack someone, when you know explicitly that goes against their wishes. Nope, not cool.

Some precise examples outside the broad strokes:

When Titus is reporting to Scheherazade, He goes off topic since he is a child who is finally able to be out and about in the vibrancy of the world. That is what he focuses on. She dismisses him and tell Titus to get to the point. It is understandable from her position, but it is unnecessarily harsh. For Titus, he is talking to his mother and hoping to get positive affirmation with sharing his experience. The best case I can describe Scheherazade is she treats him more like an employee. Not an inaccurate descriptor, but Titus is clearly distraught and thrown off guard from the dismissal and Scheherazade shows nothing in addressing it.

That's an awful look for her. However, when meeting up again she tells Titus he should go back to Marga after telling him their lifespan is almost out. He seems taken aback that Scheherazade remembered her. She paid attention to some degree and could guess what he would want to do at the end of his life.

The second is when she overrides her rukh with his to stop Titus from Falling. It is an emergency situation, and her safety is as at risk as much as his. That said completely ignoring his bodily autonomy is uncalled for. Scheherazade does not leave it at that. She takes the opportunity to threaten Mogamett and his country while possessing a child's body. Same as above when I mentioned her using Titus as a reason to be an imperial bitch, this time manipulating Titus quite literally.

All that said, I do see Scheherazade as a decent mother. Why? I think what separates her from say Gyokuen, or Aum Madura, is that she is ignorant on Titus being his own person. She's not used to her clones to have the degree of autonomy that Titus has. She treats him as an employee and extension of herself but despite it all I have never felt malicious intent. It doesn't excuse her, but it is understandable. Unlike the latter two, who fully know they are destroying children's lives for their benefit and have no compassion for them.

Scheherazade lets him go. She apologies to Titus, and he does not have to forgive her. He does because he's precious, and he sees her as someone who was his anchor and who told him about how wonderful the world was before he could see it. Titus was so hurt by her coldness because he believed she cared. She shows she does. Scheherazade is heartbroken and furious when she realizes that Titus died and used the last of his energy to try to save Mogamett.

What she does, at the end of the day, is give up her prolonged life as a reborn magi. She has lived long enough and recognized her flaws in being conservative and stuck in her ways while passionately loving the country she fostered. None of that matters though because her goal and final desire is to give her child life. The cost is meaningless. And of course Ugo listens. It is the same promise he fulfilled for Sheba with Aladdin. Kids are all right. And they deserve to live.

I think Scheherazade is one of the most interesting characters in Magi. I wanted the opportunity to talk about this part of her. Once more I need to mention how I love the mothers in Magi. A lot of the time, there's a crapload of breakdowns and devotions on how father's can differ, especially in a male targeted demographic like shounen. Not that there isn't the same for the father's in Magi (honestly there's more to pick at for father's in Sinbad no Bouken imo). The best in the main series is Sinbad and Alibaba. And I'm okay with that. Don't think I will have the time to have a similar breakdown by Father's Day. Maybe another time then.

[valandhirwriter]

Favorite side characters, any media. Go!

Thanks for the ask, @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, but you are aware, how dangerous it is, to ask me such big things?

Tam al'Thor from Wheel of time

Who is this: In WoT Tam is the father (or rather foster-father) of Rand al'Thor the Dragon reborn. Tam raised the baby that he found on the battlefield after the Blood Snow so well amd with such love, that the revelation that he isn't Rand's father comes as a shock, and even after knowing the truth, Rand still considers Tam as his father. Tam has his own role to play during the series and proves an important balancing factor for Rand in the days before Tarmon Gai'don. With Tam the author broke the trope that heroes slated for death (which the Dragon is) will either have no family any more, or be estranged in some fashion. While Rand's biological parents are dead, he still has a family in Tam, who will be deeply impacted by the loss of his son, and bears that knowledge with such a quiet strength, makes the fact that the Dragon will die at Tarmon Gai'don all the more poignant. Late in the books Rand is asked, what is different between his last incarnation as the Dragon (Lews Therin) and now, and Rand replies: "I was raised better." Showing that Tam's down-to-Earth upbringing did a world of good for the man who is supposed to save the world but also maybe break it again.

Quote: "All we can do is the best we can with the life that's given to us. And take comfort from it. But no matter what happens, what pain we face, what heartbreak, even death, the Wheel keeps turning. Always. And we try again. Maybe do a little better than the last time."

Pet Headcanons I have:

1. I cannot see how Tam could find a baby, freshly born on the slopes of Dragonmount and not guess something. Moraine in New Spring thinks that no one will admit to a child born on the slopes of Dragonmount because that detail of the prophecy is too well known. Tam also evades the initial Aes Sedai search, in spite of the offered money to all children born during the days of the Siege. So, I believe he saw something or at least believed that the baby boy could be believed to be the Dragon Reborn.

We know that Tam had an interessting military career, from the Whitecloak War to the Blood Snow, and I honestly still think that there were more adventures he had than we ever get to know.

Tam's family: We know Tam left the Two Rivers as a young man and came back years later with a wife and child. The child obviously Rand. But Rand never remembers grandparents, and after the death of Kari al'Thor Tam raises his son alone, much as the women of Emond's field strongly think he should remarry. We do not see any other female relative helping, nor get any mentions of the wider al'Thor family. So I have this headcanon that Tam's choice to leave had something to do with the loss of his family. His role in the pattern necessitated him leaving, living outside the Two Rivers, finding the child, and bringing it back, everyone thinking that it was Tam's son. If Manetheren had to fall and be forgotten, so it might shelter the Dragon Reborn in it's youth, Tam needed to be propelled out of his home. And by not having a family to ask questions later, there were no chances anyone could learn that Rand was indeed a foundling. So I think that something happened to the entire al'Thor clan, leaving Tam to carry on alone.

Fanfic I would love to read/write about him: Tam fought in the Blood Snow, much as my other favourite Wot character did: Lan al'Madragoran. We know in canon they did not meet, as Lan wonders how Tam came by a heron-marked blade, and whether he had a right to it. An answer that is only given in the Last Battle itself, when Lan sees Tam fight. Meaning Lan's Malkieri and the Illianer Companions did not interact. Now, I would love to see a story, where those two actually meet in the days of the Siege of Tar Valon, maybe fighting Aiel together. A small story would be great, but a story where their meeting propels them both on a different path - that would be great. A Tam/Lan pairing even better. But that would be ta'veren levels of AU, and writing in WoT might still be way beyond my skill level.

Eskel from he Witcher

Who is this: Eskel is another Wolf Witcher, that readers first encounter when Geralt brings Ciri to Kaer Morhen, and Ciri gets frightened when she sees his face, because of his scars. Eskel is one of the Witchers who trains Ciri in Kaer Morhen, and Ciri has a vision about his death during her time there (among other pyromantic visions). In the games Eskel is a supporting character, trying to help Geralt with his memories and ultimately fighting in the battle of Kaer Morhen.

Quote: I'm a simple witcher, Wolf. Don't fight dragons, don't fraternize with kings and don't sleep with sorceresses…

Pet Headcanons I have: 1. In the games there is a throwaway line about Eskel coming from the Mountains, something that grew into my headcanon about Eskel's background and people.

Eskel's scars - I feel that the explanation we get in the games is rather sloppy storytelling and doesn't make sense of several levels. So I still hold onto my own stories about the scars, that I had long before the games came out.

Big Brother: in my head canon Eskel is the older and more reliable brother of Geralt, sensible, steady and less given to temper. A bit of a big teddy-bear in some aspects, but also a grounding anchor for his younger brothers.

Fanfic I would love to write about him: Ummm… already wrote a bunch.

General Bel Riose from Foundation

Who is this: In the books we get to know Bel Riose as "The last of the Imperials", an Imperial General of immense skill, born in the waning days of the Galactic Empire. He ultimately gets executed by Emperor Clean for treason. In the TV series we get more time with him, see the consequences of his earlier fallout with Cleon, and see how Bel Riose takes on the Foundation. We also get to see him as a loving husband, and get torn apart when he is forced to fire on the planet where his husband has crash-landed, and having nothing left to lose, turning on Cleon, and damn, if he doesn't give Cleon a long deserved beating. Of course Bel dies, in the explosion of the ships, thanks to the chain reaction his spaces navigator caused.

Quotes: "To those who fight and ask why."

Pet Headcanons: 1. His reasons for not refusing to fire on Terminus. It is heavy implied in the series that Bel Riose does not rebel, because he has seen the anarchy outside the Empire, and is convinced that even a bad Emperor is better than none. And I think most of us watching expected him to rise up, when Cleon orders him to fire on Terminus with Glawen still grounded down there. I believe that at this point Rios knew that he was doomed, and most likely Glawen with him, if one considers Cleon's nature. So actually firing that shot, knowing that it will Glawen a swift and clean death, was an act of love, sparing Glawen the suffering that would await otherwise. And I think Glawen thought the same when he told Bel to do it. Glawen knew, with his own death, Bel would be free to act against the Emperor.

He saw the space plan coming. I am utterly convinced of this. Bel had a respectful friendship with his spacer navigator and I think he knew her well. He'd have seen something coming, and maybe he let it happen, because while he himself wasn't a man to rebel, he saw why others would. I also cannot see the spacer, who has a really good connection to her General, and respects him, would quite betray him like that.

I think he studied some illegal things about Seldon and his theories.

Fanfic I would love to write about him: I would love to write an AU where things go differently, simply because Bel didn't deserve to go down like this. Full Stop. This would be the one where both he and Glawen survive. I'd also be intrigued by one where only Bel survived, though heck - that man would become a total problem for the Empire. Or an AU where Glawen was drawn more on Cleon's side and they both are seperated, even as Cleon still sends Bel against the Foundation, while keeping Glawen for himself. Very chaotic ideas on that one.

General John Dixter from "Star of the Guardians"

Who is this: General John Dixter is the youngest roxal General in the book series, and in love with Guardian Maigrey Morianna, though he knows she only sees him as a friend. During the Revolution he helps Maigrey escape, and find medical help, though she later ditches him and escapes on her own. John becomes a mercenary, trying to forget and rising to a respected mercenary leader. Even his rival, Lord Derek Sagan respects his military skills. John is drawn into that fight again, by encountering young Dion Starfire, and recognizing that this is the child, that Maigrey talked about in the night of the revolution. He finds and loses Maigrey again, in the following events, and ultimately becomes Lord Admiral in service of young King Dion, to rebuild the Royal Military in an honourable fashion. One thing that stands about John, outside his military skills, is that even as his love for Maigrey will never go anywhere, he never gets bitter or jealous about it. He knows she will never love him back, and he is a reliable friend to her, no matter what. Even including walking into the jaws of one Derek Sagan again, or facing torture at that man's hands. John shows an incredible strength of character during all of this, and in between all the blood Royal he often is the person with the best common sense.

Quotes:

Pet Headcanons: 1. In spite of Maigrey professing her hope that John found someone else in the intervening years, I don't believe she'd really have been all that happy with it.

It would have made one hell of a friendship had Derek and John each other, before John met Maigrey.

John sensed/felt/knew that Maigrey was not dead, which is why he never got over her.

John's incurable space sickness, is (as Dr. Giesk, the old creep rightly assumed) psychological not physiological and it links back to a trauma from his youth that he's surpressing in his mind (or that was taken from him by a Guardian).

Fanfic I would love to write about him: One story I would like to write, is about his life after the book events, maybe set during or after the MagForce7 books. A story where now that Maigrey is truly gone, John finds a new life, one not defined by his grief. I also would love some deeper story about John's work rebuilding the Royal Military. I would also like that story to adress a few inconsistencies about the Revolution, and maybe the source of John's space-sickness. But definitely a story of him finding love, when he did not expect that to happen any more.

tagging @do-androids-dream-ao3acc, @regis-favorite-raven, @tigerlyla-of-metinna, @andordean, and @ginstermoff to answer the same question.