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#holy war tags
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Seliph...
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Is in heroes!
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stars-n-spice · 10 months
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Thinking about clones either makes me:
Super giddy and happy
Absolutely and utterly devastated and broken hearted, full on sobbing on the floor, shaking and trembling
Horny as fuck
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danikoshi-doodles · 1 year
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When the funny Happy Tree Friends war movie actually hits real deep
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fortanuvasyama · 6 months
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I finally managed to pin down what exactly was eating at me after reading that whole bit of Jason Gets Mindfucked (aka Batman 138)
so Bruce's (or Zur Batman, or however you might interpret that slippery divide between Zur and Bruce) whole reason to give Jason a new flavor of ptsd-on-crack is to prevent him from killing again, right? Like he explicitly says "This is the only way," when he's speaking to Jason.
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and when he goes on to explain it further....
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Bruce says he's doing this to make him a better person. That this is the best way to make Jason stop doing what he wants and force him to live a 'normal' life.
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And Bruce is saying that in his eyes, what Jason is now experiencing isn't a punishment.
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Bruce calls this a gift. This is Bruce saving Jason from himself. This is how Jason will get a chance at a meaningful life. Bruce has decided that anything Jason chooses is wrong, and he is going to correct it.
Even if it means Jason is left unable to move.
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Even if it means Jason is left unable to defend himself.
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Even if it means Jason is left alone.
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And if this 'failsafe' can really, truly, wholly stop someone from killing....
Why isn't Batman putting this in every single one of his Rogues?
Bruce apparently has the key to ending all of the Gotham rogues' murderous escapades, so wouldn't it make sense to put this in the heads of every single one of them? Of every single convicted criminal who has ever killed another human being?
If this isn't a punishment, if this is a way to truly reform a criminal permanently... why only Jason?
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leo-bandito · 5 months
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i voted because i have another friend who likes the wolf 3 digit number podcast so thats 2 friends who do. but i forgor to tell you. so im tellin you now :J
can you draw dinobot from beast wars. if not then who ever is your favorite beast wars character. mines cheetor btw (<- guy whos a bumblebee fan)
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hands you dinobot & cheetor..
VOTEFOR LOVELACE HERE & ILL DRAW YR REQUEST!
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emipon · 2 years
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💫The Eye💫
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shower-phantom-ideas · 8 months
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Yall Danny pretends to be a dead mermaid just to fuck with people who don’t know anything about ghosts
People seeing his ghostly trail and calling it a tail. Maybe some dudebroblondechick asks “so do we all loose our legs when we die?” And hes just shocked for a moment before realising the gold he has struck. “I am a dead mermaid whos tail was stuck in trash floating the in ocean.” Maybe hes really acting it up “I couldnt escape and died” as he wipes a nonexistent tear.
Well enough people have asked about it that it’s a whole thing on the web. People claiming no hes not a mermaid look heres a photo with legs and then people saying that the leg photos are doctored by the government to hide the mermaids from the public. The mermaids we are clearly at war with because why else would our government keep letting us pollute like this. It’s clearly a war tactic to basically enlist people without having them know but having them consume so much plastics.
The attempt to remove plastic straws? Clearly a cry for help from the mermaids reaching out to humanity on California duh.
Sam loves it because now more people are becoming aware of their own part in polluting the world. But she also hates it because most of the crap going around is borderline flat earth esk theories. “Why did it take the illusion of having a big naturals mermaid bf to get people to start cleaning up the oceans”
Anyway long story short the most popular theory is that Phantom has both legs and a tail and is actually a catboy alien ghost cover up.
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madlori · 18 days
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<sighs in Salty Fandom Old>
I guess it was too much to hope for to have a fandom without a ship war.
*hunkers down*
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bonebabbles · 6 days
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Having completed a rewatch of Avatar...
It is not as perfect as I remember it being
There is so much cool stuff I'd forgotten about
I have a much stronger appreciation for the female characters, especially considering the time period ATLA was written in
The series' flaws are especially interesting now that I am older and more critical of the stories I engage with
Jesus Christ they weren't lying; those arcs surrounding Hama and Jet are pretty rancid in hindsight
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Altena...
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Is in Heroes!
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whollyjoly · 8 days
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for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name
nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au
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(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)
Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.
It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 
No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.
However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.
Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 
But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 
His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 
Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-
Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.
Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.
Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.
Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.
After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.
Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.
And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.
Fucking finally.
~~
Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.
The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.
The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.
But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.
Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.
Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.
He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 
It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 
When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 
Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 
And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?
It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.
An honorable life is an eternal life.
Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 
They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.
This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.
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months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!
(song insp.)
taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin
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shabriri · 25 days
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Kinda want to connect with people more here so dropping some ✨random facts✨ about myself
- History nerd, shooting for my degree
- Depressed AND ✨autistic✨
- favorite color is purple
- metal music enjoyer
- incredibly interested in knights
- i really like knights
- Fan of many things sci-fi/fantasy including, but no limited to: Star Wars, Warhammer, Lord of The Rings, The Witcher, For Honor, DnD, Elden Ring, Dark Souls, Ghost of Tsushima, Elder Scrolls
- Hobbies consist of writing (obviously), art (occasionally), miniature painting, specifically Warhammer minis (Dark Angels and Emperor’s Children),
- Gaming is another hobby, mostly fps and sword games, but I really enjoy Mordhau, For Honor, Stellaris, Space Marine, Halo, Darktide, I am getting into Warframe, Baldurs Gate and Helldivers
I’m also open to more inquiries about myself. I’m also excited to learn more about all of you, feel free to share and to ask me more about myself.
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bluedeedeedoop · 27 days
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OKAY.
OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAY
guys i have been inactive all day because IVE WENT THROUGH 100 DIFFERENT EMOTIONS AND HAVE BEEN SO EXCITED IM JUST SO EXHAUSTED BUT OH MY LORD BARRISS IS BACK I CAN BARELY TYPE.
am i still gonna be delusional and hope for barrissoka?? hell yeah. do i have more to say about barriss returning? fuck yeah i do. am i physically capable of discussing this further? HONESTLY I DONT EVEN KNOW BECAUSE I CANT REGULATE MY EMOTIONS. anyways i was able to post some shit on my instagram story about it if yall wanna see that it’s linked in my carrd.
i want to say more i really do, but i’m exhausted, overwhelmed, AND SO FUCKING EXCITED I CANT FUNCTION.
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clevervonskelli · 2 months
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I'm trying to focus on what I liked about Episode 7 and my brain is just looping a few things.
-Was that Colonel Alkire at the camp heading up compound staff? I missed if he was named, but if so, I'm quite pleased to see him.
-Frank Murphy getting a letter from his mom ❤️
-The way the show approached the Great Escape. They managed to keep the focus entirely on the tragedy and incredulousness of the situation, and on how it could directly impact the American prisoners in the other compounds. It felt very balanced and very Great Escape in the context of MotA, not Great Escape eclipsing the show.
- MUSTANGS!!!!! MotA is a bomber-centric show and B-17s are incredible in how they can be beat to hell and keep flying, but fighter planes will always be my first love when it comes to WWII.
-Von Lindeiner's removal from his position as commodant being mentioned. He's someone I find very interesting, plus it's nice to have that hint of how there was a whole world of politics going on when it came to the running of the camps and the tension between the Luftwaffe and the Gestapo.
- I loved all the fountain pen shots we got to see this ep when folks were writing.
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sarcasticgiraff · 8 months
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Sigurd Bisexual *crowd cheers*
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nieznasztejosoby · 4 months
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Drew this a few weeks ago is this meme still funny? (i guess they kidna fit together younger siblings with primarily fire magic powers. If the color Pallete on Azelle looks weird its based on his battle sprite its actually dark pink and purple)
Rebloging comments all that are aprieciated :).
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