I think we should start referring to historical figures with absurdly grand titles by the most prosaically literal translations we can come up with. Like, "Charlemagne"? "Carolus Magnus"? Fuck you, your name is "Big Chuck".
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Rambly post incoming! About ThunderClan
i think itd be interesting if like, firestar's beliefs and actions actually had concrete changes on ThunderClan's culture, which is what causes so much friction between them and the other clans. Firestar having rightfully seen so many of the flaws in clan life, and deciding to do away with them within his own clan; for example, naming cats after their injuries or disabilities was kind of common before his arrival, but he saw it as being pointlessly cruel, and it slowly fell out of favor as a practice. Another example could be Firestar knowing that vets can heal life-threatening injuries with a much higher success rate than medicine cats, since he himself was a kittypet; Thunderclan cats who are severely injured are taken by the medicine cat and a warrior escort to a vet. The medicine cat has to return to camp, but the warrior escort remains behind to bring the injured cat home. (I imagine this is how Briarlight would have survived her spine injury, and maybe how Finleap was able to have his tail amputated). This is also why ThunderClan often has more medicine cats than other clans, and maybe could explain why their population is so much larger, they're more willing to take in outsiders and rely on outsiders' help to keep their cats safe. Conversely, modern RiverClan is the most isolationist clan due to Mistystar's leading style, which is why their population is also the smallest.
a large chunk of the TC cats older than Firestar probably found his changes to be too "soft-hearted", as can happen with older, more traditional-minded people, but most TC cats who grew up with firestar as their peer or leader adopted his beliefs. I jsut really like the idea of Firestar going against the individualism and social darwinist nature of the clans .... he knows when to ask for help and when to work together. Sometimes, safety is more important than honor. His view is that doing whatever he can to help his warriors is the most honorable decision, even if it goes against typical clan beliefs. He's an outsider who didn't grow up conditioned to accept their arbitrary rules, so he's always been much more likely to question them. As a result Thunderclan has become pretty much the most outsider-friendly clans around the lake, maaaybe second to skyclan, since most of them are only first, second, or third generation warriors.
In general Thunderclan cats tend to behave more altruistically towards the other clans, because they had a long-time leader whose style was "no cat left behind", and then that leader was succeeded by his apprentice, and then by his daughter, two cats who were very close to him and thus adopted many of his beliefs. However, many other clans see Thunderclan as nosy
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my Yenna fanfic is proceeding
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Lester, throwing his controller: Dang it, I lost again!
Meg: Do you want me to leave the room so you can say some bad words.
Lester:
Lester: Yes please.
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WIP... Oh shit, its actually Wednesday??
Tagged by @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @marivenah @cassietrn @the-silver-chronicles @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and I thiiiiink that's it... sorry if you've tagged me & you're not on here, its been a hot minute since I've posted a wip wednesday & my memory is basically Swiss cheese
Tagging anyone who wants to self indulgently share a WIP! Feel free to tag me, I love to read new stuff :)
**Also terribly sorry in advance cause this turned out to be a bit longer than I thought it would be**
WIP 1: OG Verse - fun times with Celeste & Gabriel
He has to resist the urge to throttle her, lest he ruin the inside of his house filled with years of carefully handpicked items, ones he held a certain fondness for. "You ruined my life, Celeste. Or do you not recall?”
"Your life?" She tilts her head in mock curiosity. "What life? The one where you were sent anywhere they told you to go, like some mongrel with a barely slackened leash?"
“Excuse me?"
“We can pretend otherwise. Keep up the illusion that your life was marvelous, picture perfect even. But we both know the truth, don't we?" She takes a step closer. “You were nothing but the High Council’s defanged pup. Cluelessly doing their bidding before I freed you. If anything, you should be thanking me."
"Thanking you?" He clenches and unclenches his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger.
"Hate me if you must, fight me even, but do it later. Right now we must get out of here. If they do not know where I am yet, they soon will. What do you think will happen once they realize one of their precious dhamphirs has been under their nose this whole time?"
Celeste truly is the nicest individual you'll ever meet :))
Including this little snippet from Gabriel's pov as well cause idk, I just really like it
Unbidden worry strikes him.
He listens, waits, and when his ears pick up the sound of soft, even breathing he lets out a breath of his own.
Celeste and the baby were still there, unharmed, perhaps even sleeping. It brings an odd sense of comfort, reminiscent of times long forgotten, times he didn’t want to remember. If he did, he’d have to remember what brought them to a halt in the first place and he had a job to do. Grief and old wounds had no place here, at least not at the moment.
Kicking his boots off, he treks into the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him. It’s a simple design: Shower to his left, toilet to his right, and a sink with a mirror above it directly across from the door. Leaning against the sink, he ruffles his short, black hair that's shaved on the sides and traces his fingers over an old, faded scar. It runs down almost the whole length of his face, going over his left eye and stopping just shy of the corner of his mouth. Overlapping it is another, only this one goes across his face horizontally, over the bridge of his nose and from cheek to cheek. The only thing that remains of the old Gabriel are his blue eyes, once full of life and mischief, now faded and dull.
Turning away from his visage, he heads toward the shower and turns it on, stripping down while he waits for the water to heat up. He doesn’t need a mirror to see the multitude of scars and tattoos that adorn his body. Aching for another drink—if only to dull his senses and lingering memories once more—he curbs the yearning and steps beneath the water.
WIP 2: They Watch From The Pews
Willa squirms, trying to dodge cold fingers that reach out to trace over the letters, caressing them with a sadistic fascination that makes her stomach curdle in disgust. Disgust quickly transforms into a desperation to get away once he finally reveals the knife kept hidden behind his back.
“Usually I’d peel the sin off but… I think this will suit you much better, don't you?" Pressing the tip of his blade into her skin, he teasingly drags it across her skin. "Tell me, Deputy, how did you feel when you got the news of Samuel's death?"
"Chipper." She spitefully answers with a sneer.
John heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the blade down harder, prompting tiny beads of blood to bubble up as he traces over the letters of her tattoo.
"You can make this easier for yourself, you know."
"I've heard that before. Got me a bullet to the leg."
"Because you ran. My men only acted accordingly."
"Fuck you and your men, pussy."
"My, what a mouth on you." He tuts and makes a deeper cut.
Her teeth sink into the leather in her mouth, denying him the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Without pause, he moves onto the second letter, brows scrunched up in concentration as he goes over the lines again and again. It isn’t until he’s on the last letter that she finally breaks with a muffled groan.
He stops, lifting his eyes from his work. “Comfortable?”
John & Willa are bonding so well. Truly, I think they're starting to get along!
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Dedf1sh is Missing
Last seen playing the Xylophone at the Blank Park Zoo
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your life will never be the same after you realize there are lyrics in "born in the usa" besides "kill the yellow man" and "BOOOOOORN IN THE USAAAAA" and "BIG OLE DADDY"
i always just assumed he was howling for the rest of the song
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Great just end it with fucking genocide, make that seem fine to write. Totally not like living poc have trauma surrounding that. Fuck you to every fucking writer who saw a show that finally had a poc queer cast and decide "you know what this needs? the blood of asian women" and then to fucking gloat that brits will never be fucking slaves as if- you know what if you don't know history and about the trans atlantic slavery and the issues we currently have with human trafficking at this point and you're a fucking adult, that's on you and fuck you if you don't give a shit about this
once again to every single fucking person who greenlit this or heard this idea and went "yes, good."
fuck you
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I'm gonna be so honest most of what I know about Christianity/Catholicism I learned on Tumblr via Hannibal and MCR
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cretures
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The way the word "wasteland" is used in fantasy fiction can crash into its historical usage in interesting ways because the word "waste" in this context used to just mean "uncultivated" (i.e., not being used for food production), so you see the word "wasteland" in historical documents, and based on the fantasy trope you're picturing, like, volcanoes and shit, and then the wasteland in question is literally just a forest.
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Guys, I really don’t want to edit ch24, can we just skip that one? (It’s probably THE most important chapter of the entire fic)
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The solarpunk manifesto is a genuine manifesto and the steampunk manifesto is made by people who have not read the literature of the era. I also need to read the literature of the era, to be fair, but still. It’s actively destructoexplodoconservative oh my god
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you seem to have a wide taste in books !! what are some books that you would recommend ??
Hmmm I wonder. I have the feeling I just read the same couple of books over and over, and at times only different iterations of the same story, like in that line by Borges ("the various intonations of a few metaphors").
I find recommending books without knowing anything at all about the person asking rather difficult. What I'd suggest to one may differ greatly from what I'd recommend to someone else. I'll give a list of some of my favourite books that I think are enjoyable in general:
— Thoughts by Pascal
— Cain: a mystery by Lord Byron
— The Iliad by Homer
— Crime and Punishment by Dostoievsky
— Othello by Shakespeare
— Pedro Páramo by Juan Rulfo
— Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand
— The fragments of the Presocratics
— La Regenta by Leopoldo Alas, Clarín
— Tractatus Logico-philosophicus by Wittgenstein
— East of Eden by John Steinbeck
— Vita nova by Dante
— Contributions to the Founding of the Theory of Transfinite Numbers by Georg Cantor
— Caligula by Albert Camus
— North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell
— Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie
— Some essays by Russell. I personally love Mysticism and Logic
— Metamorphoses by Ovid
Poetry is perhaps harder to recommend because at times it translates horribly, but in general I love Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Lorca, Juan Ramón Jiménez, Rilke, Byron, Quevedo, Góngora, Lope de Vega, Horace, Catullus, Ovid, Tennyson, Maiakovsky, Garcilaso de la Vega, Oliverio Girondo, Vicente Huidobro, Emily Brontë, T. S. Eliot, Luis Cernuda and Edgar Allan Poe, to name a few.
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she stares up at the night sky
seeing something new
she stares a moment
then two,
wondering what it could be,
it is a strange color
for a being in the sky.
a child points and wonders
and she spins a tale
how perhaps it is a piece of home
kicked up by the buffalo herds,
the child shudders at the painting
and curls up against her side
safe and warm
she stares up at the night sky
until she succumbs to sleep,
it is gone in the morning.
i stared up at the night sky
barely seeing what i knew was there
i stared for a while,
until my hands went numb
wondering what she might have thought
about the being passing by.
tears began to fall,
the world feeling a little bit smaller
a little less alone,
i was joined by ghosts
illuminated by moonlight
from just a few days
three thousand grandmothers ago
watching along with me
staring up at the same
strange green star
in the same dark sky
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Cosmere swear words / expressions, Fuzz edition
Zinc-tongued raven
Senna
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