#Childe propaganda

[atoriv-art]

keeping watch

[abla-soso]

Zionists cry about "atrocity denialism!" when sane people can not just simply accept their unproven narratives about Hamas, especially not when Israel has a very long track record of lying in the most outrageous ways.

Yet they're too comfortable engaging in ACTUAL atrocity denialism. Even when the atrocity is undeniable.

Shameless depravity.

[star--nymph]

I think people forget with Cullen, and characters like Cullen, that indoctrination is a thing. We're lucky to live in an age where we have a surplus of access to resources that allow us to think critically on the structures around us, to the point where we overlook that most people won't and haven't. Cullen was raised in a backwater village where the main educators and leaders were Templars. He was likely taught scripture by Chantry Sisters, he possibly learned to read and write through them. From the day he was born, he was being taught to love and obey the Chantry with out question--and the Chantry teaches that Templars are a force of good.

So I ask you, how the hell was Cullen, at eight or thirteen years old, going to learn about the crimes of Templars? How was he going to unlearn propaganda that was fed him to him every day by people he respected and possibly loved? How was he supposed to be aware that this idolized image of Templars being the saviors of the people and even mages was a lie?

And then he gets shipped off, happily, to be trained a Templar. Again, he's put into this position where he's fed nothing but propaganda. He doesn't get a real taste of the Order being corrupted until he's out in Kinloch and he's not sure what the hell to do because what he's seeing isn't jiving with what he's been taught for nearly two decades. So yeah, he tries to justify it, he tries to have his cake and eat it too by reasoning that mages should be treated like people but also the Order wouldn't lie to him, so they must be right to act like this. The Maker always had a plan, right?

If Cullen had been lucky, maybe he could have realized earlier on that the Order was abusing mages, that he had been tricked, he could have gotten out and unlearned the bigotry that was planted inside him.

But then BAM! the Broken Circle happened and I don't see how no one gets how perfect this is for the Order? They now have a templar that is so traumatized by mages, he will literally do and say anything to justify their abuses because now? Now he's afraid.

And remember, after Origins, Cullen becomes so erratic, he has to be sent off to a Chantry to 'even him out'--where he was more than likely manipulated even further by the Chantry to be this blood thirsty agent for them. When he's shipped to Kirkwall, they could have not delivered to Meredith a better second in command.

So yeah, is it really surprising that he says shit like 'mages aren't people like you and me' when we meet him in Kirkwall? Man is sleep depraved by the looks of him, swallowing all Meredith's frenzied rhetoric on blood mages, he's seeing for himself the damage these mages are doing, he's isolated from his family, he has no actual friends, and he's living with C-PTSD among other issues. Even under the best of conditions, none of what he says or does in DA2 is surprising when you put it all together.

And yet, the man still had enough of that idealistic child left in him to realize see that Meredith was going off the deep end and that he should be protecting the mages. That's text. That's in World of Thedas. The reason why Cullen is able to turn on Meredith in the end is because he was able to see, even clouded by his fear and hatred, that what she was doing was wrong.

And all this isn't to excuse Cullen's wrongs. It's weird how every time someone brings up Cullen's history, it's assumed that it's just a justification for his actions. It's not, it's an an explanation. Cullen was a victim of the Order that became an abuser, a tool, and he is responsible for his actions.

But the thing is, by DAI, Cullen is well aware of his sins and he actively works to better himself by leaving the Order and getting off lyrium (which for most people is a death sentence). People can argue all day about whether or not Cullen's arc in DAI redeems him or was satisfying, or if he did enough to 'prove' that he was sorry or--good god--does he deserve redemption in the first place (which is such a Catholic way of looking at shit by the way; no one 'deserves' redemption; you do it to be better or you fucking don't) but the fact is that Cullen says that he wants to be better, that he sees the Order as--at the very least--flawed.

That, yes, he's still unlearning all the bigotry he held as a younger man and he's ashamed that he was like that to begin with.

You can hate him all you like, and whatever, but Cullen's story--intentionally or not--is about a man born into an oppressive society, raised to uphold its beliefs, used and abused by it, and then awakening to those lies and trying to free himself from those beliefs so he could be a better person.

And sometimes I genuinely wonder if the reason so many people hate Cullen is because they themselves might have dealt with something similar in our own oppressive society where they also had to unlearn harmful bigotry and maybe, just maybe, he hits too close to home.

[maldaptivedreamer]

A NEW SIDE

You discover a new side to Tyler.

content: Errors and mistakes, not entirely accurate to alien universe, maybe ooc, guns (idk anything about them), military (idk anything about it), and fighting (only ever fought my brother)

wc: ~2.6

a/n: This may be the only thing I write for Tyler. With that being said, there are theories about Tyler having been in the military or Weyand-Yutani security. That theory inspired me to write this story so… petitioning for more fics about Tyler in military or something.

The room is stark and sterile, lacking any trace of warmth or life. The blinding white walls seem to amplify the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, creating an almost unbearable brightness. The lack of color or character only adds to the feeling of emptiness and isolation.

Outside, the dreary browns and dark oranges of Jackson’s star and its’ crumbling buildings are a stark contrast to this clinical environment. The air here is heavy with the scent of cleaning chemicals, masking any natural scents that might have existed before. It's suffocating, as if all living organisms have been wiped clean from this space.

The weight of the gun in your hands is a constant reminder of your purpose here. The cold metal seems to bite into your skin, grounding you in this sterile reality.

Despite the assistance of modern technology, there's a certain satisfaction in manually aiming at a target. You anchor the gun to your shoulder, feeling the weight and balance of it as you line up your sights with the distant bullseye. With steady focus, you release a few rounds, feeling the satisfying kickback of the powerful weapon.

The recoil of the gun jolts through your body, causing it to dig into your shoulder. As you release a breath and lower the gun, you hear the gruff voice of the old general calling out for everyone to return their firearms and check them in. After that, he instructs everyone to meet in Room A-5 for sparring with their assigned partners.

Letting out a sigh, you glance to your side and spot your partner, Tyler.

He fits the cliché description of tall, dark, and handsome perfectly. Standing at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders and lean muscles are evident even beneath the layers of Weyland-Yutani uniform.

Your eyes linger on Tyler for a moment, taking in his imposing figure as he stands a few lanes from you. His gaze is focused and alert, scanning the area with practiced precision.

As if sensing your attention, Tyler's eyes flick to meet yours. He nods slightly, acknowledging your presence before returning his gaze to scan the others as they move to check in their firearms.

Rolling your shoulder to ease the ache from the recoil, you follow the others and can sense Tyler falling into step behind you.

His deep accented voice breaks through the sound of shuffling feet and hushed conversations, "You're a good shot."

You scoff lightly and raise an eyebrow at him in amusement, “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. But I s’pose that doesn��t mean much when aiming is automatic.”

Tyler chuckles softly at your response.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both continue progressing in line.

As the silence stretches on, Tyler finally breaks it with a playful tone. "Looking at each of their targets, seems like they paired together the best of the class."

The comment catches you off guard. Tyler is not known for being talkative, to you at least, instead preferring to stay professional and quiet. Any attempts at humor or conversation from you are usually met with a few polite chuckles.

Biting your lip, you steal a glance at him and quietly reply, "Ah yes, because we are the best of the best. The rest of ‘em don’t stand a chance."

Tyler's lips quirk up in a rare smile at your response. "Modest."

You shrug, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Just stating facts. Though I suppose we'll see who's really the best once we get to sparring."

"Is that a challenge?" Tyler asks, his voice low and teasing.

You quickly shoot back, "Only if you're up for it."

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich. "Oh, I'm always up for a challenge."

As you reach the front of the line, you hand over your firearm to be checked in. Tyler does the same, his movements efficient and practiced. Tyler's fingers brush against yours for a brief moment, sending a jolt of electricity through your arm. You quickly pull your hand away, hoping he didn't notice your reaction.

The two of you make your way towards Room A-5, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

Carefully unzipping your bulky coat, you remove it and your shoes before stepping onto the mat. Tyler does the same, his movements smooth and practiced.

Both of you settle into fighting stances, playfully swiping at each other as you warm up on the mat. A sense of friendly competition fills the air between you.

Circling each other with fluid movements, Tyler lets out a playful click of his tongue before speaking with teasing undertones, “Y’know, heard someone say the general’s got a hard-on for you."

You can't help but scoff in amusement, firing back with a smile, "Really? Well, I've always been a sucker for mean old men. Guess that explains why he feels the need to torture me so often… What about you? Anyone caught your eye?"

A grin creeps into his voice as he answers, "I don't know, I've had my eye on that sandwich in the lunchroom."

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food, and you can't help but let out a quiet groan. Absentmindedly shuffling your feet, you comment, "I am starving. Maybe I'll have to actually fight you for that sandwich."

Tyler chuckles in a low voice. "I'd like to see you try."

Rolling your eyes with a smirk, you speak, "Don't underestimate me. I'm scrappy when I'm hungry."

"Is that so?" There's a hint of challenge in his voice now. "Maybe we should test that. Or I could be persuaded to share."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by this playful side of Tyler you've never seen. "Oh? And what exactly would that persuasion entail?"

Your eyes lock with Tyler's, a charged moment of tension hanging between you. His gaze is intense, a mix of challenge and something else you can't quite place. He’s about to respond when the general's gruff voice cuts through the air.

"Alright, lovebirds. Less talking, more sparring."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the general's words, but quickly push the embarrassment aside. Refocusing on Tyler, you see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Grinning, he raises his eyebrows and silently mouths the word jealous.

Releasing a giggle, you watch as his expression turns serious.

Without warning, Tyler lunges forward, aiming a swift jab at your stomach. You dodge just in time, pivoting on your heel to avoid the blow. Your training kicks in as you counter with a quick strike of your own, which Tyler easily deflects.

The two of you fall into a fierce rhythm, trading powerful hits back and forth. The sound of fists connecting with flesh echoes off the bare walls, creating a cacophony of grunts and thuds.

Drawing back with raised arms, you gasp for air as sweat rolls down your face. Tyler takes this opportunity to catch his own breath, but he recovers much quicker than you do. He advances towards you, his movements fluid and calculated.

In one swift motion, he lunges at you and twists your body around. With your back pressed against his chest, he wraps an arm tightly around your neck while attempting to wrap the other around your head. You struggle against him, trying to break free from his hold.

You throw your head back, stunning him, and swing your legs up. Using every ounce of strength in your body, you plant them firmly into the ground and shove him over your shoulder. His body slams into the ground with a loud thud that reverberates through the room.

Everyone turns to watch as Tyler groans on the ground, clearly winded from the impact. You wince at the sight, feeling slightly guilty for using such force. With a hint of amusement in your voice, you apologize to Tyler, "Sorry, didn't mean to hit you that hard."

Your intense training session comes to a brief pause as Tyler struggles. He forces himself to sit up, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. You extend a hand to help him up, and he gratefully accepts it. You both groan with effort as he gets to his feet.

As he wipes a finger across his lip, you notice a few drops of blood staining his skin. His face contorts in pain, and you speak in a hushed voice, “You okay?”

Tyler nods, grimacing as he licks his split lip. His voice is strained as he responds with a small groan, “Remind me to never get in the way of your food.”

You release a light laugh before taking your positions on opposite sides of the mat once again. With renewed energy, you resume sparring with each other.

The spar continues without any more incidents until the general calls for a break and dismisses everyone.

As you make your way to the cafeteria, you sneak a few glances at Tyler, silently admiring him. His muscular frame radiates heat, and a thin sheen of sweat glistens on his tanned skin.

The cafeteria is just as uninviting as the rest of the facility. The stark white walls and fluorescent lights mimicking the rest of the sterile facility. The smell of strong disinfectant lingers in the air, mixing with the low hum of chatter from other trainees. You grab your trays and fall into line behind Tyler, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours as you shuffle forward.

"So," Tyler says, his voice pitched low so only you can hear, "about that sandwich..."

You pause briefly to meet his gaze, noticing how his brown eyes seem to dance with mischief. Smirking, you reply in an equally hushed tone. "If you think that those puppy eyes of yours are gonna work, you’re wrong."

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes his lips. You can't help but shiver as he clicks his tongue and speaks in a sarcastic tone. "Damn. Figured you could throw me a bone after kicking my ass."

As you approach the front of the line, your eyes catch sight of the last sandwich sitting on the counter.

With a groan, you roll your head back and curse under your breath. From the corner of your eye, you can see Tyler's brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

Silently, you grab the sandwich and wait for him to join you, balancing the tray in your hands.

Tyler motions towards an empty table tucked away in the corner, a playful smile tugging at his lips. You nod and follow him through the bustling crowd.

As you take your seats, you lean in close to him with a playful scowl adorning your face. Raising one finger for emphasis, you speak sternly. "Once. I'm only going to do this once. So don't expect any more favors from me. I don't like sharing… Being an only child, I never had to."

Squinting playfully at him as he grins back at you, you add, “Also… I stand by what I said. Those puppy eyes of yours… useless.”

Tyler's eyes light up with amusement as you slide half the sandwich across the table to him. "I'll take it," he says, his voice warm with gratitude.

As he takes a bite, his lips curve into a small smile. "And for the record," he continues, "I wasn't trying to use puppy eyes. That's just my face."

You snort, taking a bite of your half. "Sure, it is. I bet that face gets you out of a lot of trouble."

He shrugs casually, but there's a hint of playfulness in his gesture. "Maybe. But it clearly doesn't work on you." His tone is very obviously sarcastic.

Taking another mouthful, you give him a small glare. You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Don't let it go to your head. This is a one-time deal, remember?"

"Of course," he nods solemnly, but there's a glint in his eye that suggests he doesn't believe you for a second. "I'll treasure this moment forever."

You snort, taking a bite of your half. The sandwich isn't anything special - standard cafeteria fare - but after the intense sparring session, it tastes like heaven. You both eat in companionable silence for a few moments, the buzz of conversation from the other tables washing over you.

He breaks the silence after swallowing a mouthful. "Only child, huh? That explains a lot," he teases.

Humming past a mouthful, you ignore his teasing and curiously ask, “What about you? You give off the vibe of protective brother. In a healthy and very not weird, incesty, misogynistic way… If that makes sense.”

Letting out a confused and shocked laugh, he runs a hand through his hair and nods. His voice is soft, “Yeah, got ‘a kid sister. Her name’s Kay.”

As he talks about her, you can see the fondness and love in his expression. A small grin forms on his face at the thought of her. Tilting your head, you speak past a cheekful of food, “What’s she like? What’s having a sister like?”

Tyler's eyes soften as he thinks about his sister. "Kay's... she's something else. She’s kind. Smarter than me, stubborn as hell. Accidently finding trouble, and somehow fumbling her way out of it." He chuckles, shaking his head fondly. "Having a sister is... it's complicated. One minute you're fighting, the next you're schemin' together. We always watch out for each other, whether we’re fightin' or not."

You nod as he finishes. Part of you can't help but feel envious of the bond they share. It's clear that having a sister has been a source of joy and strength for him. "Sounds nice," you muse. "Though I can't imagine sharing my stuff all the time."

"Oh, sharing isn't optional," Tyler laughs. "It's more like... strategic borrowing without permission."

You raise an eyebrow. "You mean stealing?"

"I prefer liberating," he grins.

Giggling, you lightly tap his foot under the table with your own, “I’m so fucking glad I didn’t have to deal with that. That sounds annoying.”

He shrugs and takes a final bite of his sandwich, finishing it off quickly. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he rubs his hands together. Without saying a word, he points silently to it, and you realize you don’t have much time left. Time isn’t exactly something that Weyland-Yutani is generous with.

Standing up quickly, you shove the rest of your sandwich into your mouth in a rush. Ignoring his surprised and slightly amused expression, you brush crumbs off of your clothes.

As you both stand to leave, Tyler's eyes linger on you for a moment. There's a softness in his gaze that wasn't there before, a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Thanks for the sandwich," he says, his voice low. "And for not completely destroying me during sparring."

You grin, playfully bumping his shoulder with yours. "Don't get used to it. Next time, kiddie gloves are off."

He chuckles, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "I look forward to it."

As you walk back to the training area, a sense of unease settles in your stomach. There's a subtle shift between you and Tyler - the usual professional distance has dissolved into something more personal. The easy banter and shared meal have created a new dynamic, one that both excites and unnerves you.

Despite the physically demanding drills and exercises, your mind feels light and carefree. The glances and looks exchanged between you and Tyler throughout the day make your heart race with anticipation.

When you lay down in your bed, exhaustion finally catching up to you, your mind buzzes with thoughts of him. The fluttering sensation in your gut is a mix of nervousness and excitement.

[varpusvaras]

Just wanted to say for the record that I am 100% here for every iteration of Oliver parenting/parent-in-lawing Jason that you can come up with. Seriously. I will read and love literally every single thing that you write in which Jason and Ollie have any kind of positive interaction and/or in which Ollie is an objectively better dad than Bruce, especially to Bruce’s own kids.

My biggest disappointment since getting into Jayroy as a ship has been the lack of good Oliver & Jason content. There’s so much potential there, both of the hilarious and angsty variety. (Second biggest disappointment is the lack of good Dinah & Jason content. Partly because I think they’d get along and partly because I feel like it would somehow translate to Jason in fishnets which is my ultimate dream.)

They're so important to me, I'm happy that you like it too! I was also missing having them interact in most of Jayroy content, so, you know, gotta do it yourself lmao. How Oliver has a worse reputation as a parent than many others (*cough Bruce cough*) is beyond me. Oliver and Jason are both interesting and enjoyable characters for me to write, and examining them and their potential dynamic is so so fun. It's also just very healing for me, to have someone come from such a dysfunctional life and dynamics in their home and see that you can truly get better and have other people in your life without having to constantly watch yourself and your every move so you don't get judged and condemned.

Also you had such a good timing, I just thought today that I need to ramp up with Dinah & Jason interactions. Dinah is such an important person to Roy, so it would make sense that she would be interacting with Jason a lot, too. So, gotta get with that too!

[folklorespring]

I still can't process the fact that russians kidnapping Ukrainian children, adopting them in russia, changing their names and other personal information from Ukrainian to russian, "re-educating" them and raising them as russians is our reality.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Child_abductions_in_the_Russo-Ukrainian_War

BBC article

https://www.politico.eu/article/save-ukraine-children-abduction-russia-war-rescue-operation/

[lenaellsi]

baby pictures

[commsroom]

cutter was born in the 20s, and he'd become "arthur keller" by the early 70s, so obviously pryce's story at the beginning of brave new world can't be taken literally - that's not even an old man, much less "older than anyone she had ever met." it's also inarguable she was an adult already working on her... ideas for the human body when cutter sought her out; "i want you to make a doll for me" and "i found people who had some very bold ideas about how to... tune up the human body [...] i funded their work, and provided them with a willing test subject" are pretty definitely referring to the same events. so, it's fairy tale language, but the question is: why? why frame it this way?

one part of it is the "fountain of youth" in connection to immortality, strength, and health. the implication isn't literally that cutter is very old and pryce is very young; it's that she represents this power, and that he wants her to bestow it upon him: "then you and i will fix the world. i will be young and you will be whole." cutter and pryce choose to look eternally 28, while referring to and conducting themselves as if they're very old: it's not just vanity, it's part of their self-mythology. simultaneously young and old, having overcome the natural order.

that mythology of "overcoming" natural limitations is especially significant for pryce: characterizing herself as a "little girl" within her own story is both self-victimizing and self-aggrandizing. pryce does not see herself as disabled so much as temporarily inconvenienced; even the usual limitations of the human body are something she hopes to transcend. "instead of being wretched or afraid, the little girl decided to be clever." she was put at a disadvantage, but overcame it all by herself because she was smarter and better than other people. by extension, anyone who can't do what she did just isn't good enough, even as she's closing doors behind her and making it harder for others like her. and at the same time: it's an underdog story that requires her to have been an underdog. she hasn't been in a very, very long time, but the power she holds over others remains justified in her self-perception by this image of a sick little girl who was hurt by the world. there's an implication of inherent worthiness, and even a sort of expected assumed innocence in characterizing it that way. the first thing people notice about pryce is her eyes, and... sure, maybe it's the technology, but if cutter can catch bullets without any visible signs, it seems likely to me that, like her age, this is at least in part an aesthetic choice. it intimidates people. she's turned this point of hurt and vulnerability into a power play, and remains attached to it.

and that's the other part of the mythologizing that's going on: presumably, pryce was not the only person who worked on all of this. cutter funded others. but the story retroactively simplifies it, in a childish fairy tale way, and paints an image of them as exceptional, uniquely capable and so uniquely deserving, people.

i think there's something interesting to consider here about pryce in contrast to hera: that pryce is a woman who self-justifies her cruelty via a mythologized girlhood, while hera is a woman who was never a girl, who was never considered innocent or even allowed the same recognition of the ways she's been a victim. pryce resents humanity and all it represents, resents her body and its limitations, feels that being human has only caused her suffering, but still clearly believes that she has more of a claim to humanity than hera does by nature of her biology and upbringing. pryce's "bootstraps" attitude re: disability and her own self-victimization are the crucial things here, but i think that is also particularly interesting if you read hera as a trans woman.

(incidentally, this is part of why i have a particular love for hera designs where she's just a regular woman, more angular, and maybe even older looking - a natural 30-something in contrast to an unnaturally maintained 28 - than pryce. they're both women who have chosen how they want to look, and it highlights something.)

[moongothic]

People often bring up the omake No Respect Time to use as Crocodad Propaganda, and y'know, I think there might be just a smidge more the omake can provide to Crocodad than what people have already discussed in the past

Like everyone's seen the comparisons between Crocodile and the anime screencaps of Don Luffyone, we all know how the two look so similar etc etc. But honestly, the resemblance is even more obvious (and hilarious) when you look at the OG manga version (Sidenote but Don Luffyone is the only one who smokes cigars in the omake... Everyone else has plain ol' cigarettes... That sure was a decision there Oda)

And yeah, you might be thinking I picked this mangacap of Crocodile in particular because the resemblance is the most obvious here and I have My Crocodad Agenda to push etc etc. But I will have you know that the original omake was from Log Book 5, which was published February 28th 2006. Meanwhile that Crocodile is from the cover of chapter 398, published February 6th 2006. So these were drawn by Oda around the same time. I didn't just cherry pick this cover page because it's convenient for my evil agenda, if these were drawn around the same time then the likelihood the resemblance is intentional does legitimately go up a little. (Also since they're both drawn by Oda instead of random animators, again, it's a bit less coincidental and could be a bit more intentional)

But as I said, I think there might be more to the omake than that.

In the past people have also pointed out and joked how a mere few months before Oda revealed Dragon was Luffy's father to us in the story (post-Enies Lobby), in the Monster Time-omake Luffy was depicted as a dragon.

Needless to say, people believe this was intentional foreshadowing (/trolling) to the Dragon reveal by Oda-- if not it'd be one hell of a coincidence at the very least.

The reason I'm bringing that up is that if people think it's safe to assume Oda was hinting at Luffy's heritage in one omake by making him a dragon like his father, then why couldn't Oda do the same in another omake (by making Luffy a mafia boss who smokes cigars like his father)? Keep in mind that Monster Time was published in May 2006 (in Log Book 7), just three months after No Respect Time. So again, these are from the same era. To me, that just makes the resemblance between Don Luffyone and Crocodile seem even less coincidental

Oh, but there's one more omake I want to bring up.

So people do often bring up Nerd!Luffy's appearance in One Piece Gakuen spin-off manga, pointing out how much he looks quite a lot like the Theoretical Child Oda gave to Crocodile in that one SBS. Yeah. So. 'Bout that.

There was this one omake called Red Hair of Class 3-Sea Time, in which Luffy was a loser ass nerd. And man, that resemblance

Like it's one thing when a spin-off manga drawn by a different artist does A Thing. It's another when Oda himself does it

[tangledinink]

Good luck on the competition!!

more gifts to accept and people to meet? no problem, the gems know this song and dance~

oh, there's more? that's fine, no problem...!

wow, there sure a lot of people at this event, huh?... sure... no big deal... great chance to get some good PR in, right?... the gemini toottalllyyy have this handled...

yayyy... they're having sooo much fun at the @tmntaucompetition and aren't overwhelmed or stressed at ALL. they know how to do this! they just have to... keep going... and not fuck it up...! easy!...

[flebdoodle]

The Pines (Graphic Novel) - Chapter One

Hi! Loaf here with some housekeeping!

First order of business, there are 3 more chapters coming! (consider following me if you wanna read them KOFFF KOFF)

Secondly, this is not an original story! This is an adaptation of Docofthedark's amazing fic The Pines which you should totally read because holy smokes it's amazing and to get the things I couldn't include here and also because I love the way she writes characters and-

Oh I almost forgot!

[donkeys-waffles]

RIP All For One, you would have loved being a stay at home Dad.

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

You're pretty biased with hellsitegenetics

?

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[moredifferentthanusual]

my atla au fanfic pet peeve is people making katara angry or reluctant at zuko joining the group. katara was the FIRST one to trust and forgive zuko. he spent >5min telling her he had a tragic backstory and she was ready to use up her one and only vial of superultramagical healing on a cosmetic problem because it would make him happy.

katara is thee Most forgiving, trusting, and generous of the lot. thats Why she could be betrayed at all. Because she trusted so easily! the fact she holds a grudge at a betrayal that got her best friend killed severely injured does not mean she is anything less than the most trusting and willing to take a chance on others of the group!

if in an alternate universe zuko wound up joining the group earlier or the betrayal never happened she would be the first to accept him, she would welcome him with open arms and fight on his behalf with the groups true skeptic ie sokka

[bymiar]

He's a very supportive brother.

@sonic-fankid-showdown