this is what he looks like when he thinks he’s being elegant and aloof
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this is what he looks like when he thinks he’s being elegant and aloof

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You have been sentenced to death in a magical court. The court allows all prisoners to pick how they die and they will carry it out immediately. You have it all figured out until the prisoner before you picks old age and is instantly transformed into a dying old man. Your turn approaches.
I think I’d have minded less if I’d committed a truly heinous crime. Something that warranted death. Or even if I was the kind of person who would enjoy flinging a last defiance at my execution.
It was all just a show, anyway. They did it every year. They brought out a selection of criminals, and the Sorcerer who ruled us showed his power by bringing about their deaths by magic. Just to show, every year, what happened to anyone who crossed him.
There was a time, probably, when the people he executed really were rebels or assassins. In latter days he had to take what the dungeons offered. I was dragged up in chains between a pickpocket, sobbing in terror, and a man who’d killed another man in a brawl. There were few criminals of any note, by then. So instead of choosing the wickedest criminals, they chose based on appearance. The man who’d been in the brawl had a face like a clenched fist, and looked like a ruffian. The pickpocket, aging and with hands beginning to tremble, was a different kind of example. As was I.
“There aren’t many pretty ones, this year,” the man who chose me had said, examining me. “But this one will do. Not young, but not old, a woman, well-favoured enough for the gallows… what was her crime?”
The warder shrugged. “She tried to kill one of the sheriffs.”
The man looked down at me and I shrugged. “I hit him with a washing stick, because he tried to extort money from me, and he was a baby about it.” I refused to treat this as anything but pathetic, even after my sentencing. “I didn’t even break any bones.”
“Treason, then,” the man said, nodding. “Attacking the servants of the law. That will look well on the list. Send her.”
I had been debating ever since what to choose. Something quick? Something painless? I considered demanding that I suffer the attack I supposedly made on the sheriff, but then I realized the Sorcerer would only give me what the man had said I was going to do, and that was not a pleasant way to die. I had all but decided on something swift and relatively painless. Beheading with the sharpest of blades sounded good. It would be quick.
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i love shipping magazines and i especially love them when they sound like they were written by a mildly aggravated cargo ship
nothinggg better than torturing an emotionally repressed character until every single trauma they've ever refused to process starts spilling uncontrollably out of the cracks. like a matryoshka doll situation of repressed trauma and baby you better believe i'm going in there with a hammer
I’m not Christian, I don’t go to church anymore, and my pastor died, but when he was alive I’d sometimes go to his sermons and I remember one time he said “it feels good to hate, but we know that it isn’t allowed, so when we’re told that we’re allowed to hate someone we get so excited that we forget we’re supposed to love”, and if my humble atheist ass might borrow some church talk I’d like to perhaps submit that
Anyhow sometimes on the day to day I feel disgust or revulsion and I have to ask myself “is this a danger to anyone at all or am I just looking for something I’m allowed to hate” and a solid 98/100 times it’s the latter so once again thank you pastor D
Some more sweet bangers from Pastor D
Following the rules of the church are less important than following the attitudes Jesus exemplified [in a debate about if it would be okay to break traditional rules and give the leftover loaf of communion bread to a hungry and poor attendee]
Don’t get so caught up in observing ceremonies and following traditions that you forget why they started to begin with
The words you use aren’t as important as what you mean when you use them [new kid was somehow wildly confused about his name and started respectfully calling him Batman]
You might like the teaching story that I heard often from my dad -
Two monks from a strict order that prohibits even *looking* at a woman are on a pilgrimage
Along the way they have to cross a small river
A woman is also trying to cross but is clearly struggling to find a safe place to wade in
One monk decides to help and carries her through the water and sets her down on the other side where she goes off on her own to wherever it is she's going
After a while walking in grumpy silence the second monk breaks and starts berating the first for breaking his vows! And so casually! The first monk says "I picked her up, I put her down, *you* are still carrying her.
My dad liked the idea that the rule exists to teach you something - and if you learn it, you don't need the rule - and if you don't learn it, the rule is doing you no good
I like this one!

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back by unpopular demand!!
dude youre making this vivisection really difficult can you just like stay still
what the fuck happens in danny phantom.
["op was this. not about danny phantom / because if not: wild"]
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS IN DANNY PHANTOM?!?!?!?
I remembered this post earlier today and started giggling out loud
Happy March 15th to those who celebrate.
tumblr wanna hear my most angsty dumb edgy headcanon?
do we get a choice?
of course you have a choice! free will, that beloved gleaming prize, that cornerstone of humanity and philosophy, rests at your feet! you are forever free to choose your answers to any question, whether that answer is yes or no or any alternative! whether the answer is accurate or false or undetermined, only you can give it! only you can make that choice! what is your answer?
We politely decline
ok so in Brother Bear’s famous “quit telling everyone i’m dead” “sometimes I can still hear his voice!” scene, the husband Edgar’s voice is only ever heard off-screen. so my headcanon is that either the wife is hallucinating her husband’s voice (which only we, the audience can hear) OR it’s one of her neighbors playing a cruel practical joke on an elderly widow, in which case he’s been gaslighting her long enough that she’s learned to ignore the evidence of her own ears.
(The alternate explanation is she has dementia and is so ill she can’t even remember whether her loved ones are alive or dead.)
What happened to free will
a valuable lesson! what the philosophers forget is that free will exists only to the extent the individual is allowed to make meaningful choices! though we are all capable of conscious thought & purposeful decision (which supposedly elevates us above the level of “mere beast”), this becomes irrelevant in the face of an indifferent and often openly malicious world that controls the fundamental factors of our lives. What is free will in a society that rips away all meaningful choice, that steals away the supposedly most sacrosanct of freedoms? You are always free to choose your answer, but it is the world that sets the questions and judges your grade! And the questions are multiple choice, with all wrong answers, and mostly boil down to “which way will you choose to suffer today?” And even if you give the “right” answer, the world may well ignore you on a whim!
Free will exists, but this is not a free world.
“what’s the worst fruit” i hope you fucking die im strangling you what the hell is wrong with you. ‘the worst fruit’… has god not made all of these fruits in the same light???? cunt
Red Delicious Apples
5th from the bottom on applerankings.com
May I someday gain the same level of succinct cutting vitriol criticism as the applerankings.

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There used to be a lot of activities that took place around a populated area like a village or town, which you would encounter before you reached the town itself. Most of those crafts have either been eliminated in the developed world or now take place out of view on private land, and so modern authors don't think of them when creating fantasy worlds or writing historical fiction. I think that sprinkling those in could both enrich the worlds you're writing in and, potentially, add useful plot devices.
For example, your travelers might know that they're near civilization when they start finding trees in the woods that have been tapped, for pitch or for sap. They might find a forester's trap line and trace it back to his hut to get medical care. Maybe they retrace the passage of a peasant and his pig out hunting for truffles. If they're coming along a coast, maybe your travelers come across the pools where sea water is dried down to salt, or the furnaces where bog iron ore is smelted.
Maybe they see a column of smoke and follow it to the house-sized kilns of a potter's yard where men work making bricks or roof tiles. From miles away they could smell the unmistakeable odor of pine sap being rendered down into pitch, and follow that to a village. Or they hear the flute playing of a shepherd boy whiling away the hours in the high pasture.
They could find the clearing where the charcoal burners recently broke down an earth kiln, and follow the hoof prints and drag marks of their horse and sledge as they hauled the charcoal back to civilization. Or follow the sound of metal on stone to a quarry or gravel pit. Maybe they know they're nearly to town when they come across a clay bank with signs of recent clay gathering.
Of course around every town and city there will be farms, more densely packed the closer you are. But don't just think of fields of grains or vegetables. Think of managed woodlands, like maybe trees coppiced-- cut and then regrown--to customize the shape or size of the branches. Cows being grazed in a communal green. Waiting as a huge flock of ducks is driven across the road. Orchards in bloom.
If they're approaching by road, there will be things best done out of town. The threshing floor where grain is beaten with flails or run through crushing wheels to separate the grain from its casing, and then winnowed, using the wind to carry away the chaff. Laundresses working in the river, their linens bleaching on the grass at the drying yard. The stench of the tanners, barred from town for stinking so badly. The rushing wheel-race and great creaking wheel of the flour mill.
If it's a larger town, there might be a livestock market outside the gates, with goats milling in woven willow pens or chickens in wooden cages. Or a line of horses for the wealthier buyer or your desperate travelers. There might be a red light district, escaping the regulations of the city proper, or plain old slums. More industrial yards, like the yards where fabric is dyed (these might also smell quite bad, like rotting plant material, or urine).
There are so many things that preindustrial people did and would find familiar that we just don't know about now. So much of life was lived out in the open for anyone to see. Make your world busy and loud and colorful!
He doesn’t even know, and he doesn’t want to.
I don't go here but I feel like "It's a metaphor. Don't force it to do the work of a fact." is a great statement about literature and fan-content in general.
Idk man, I think “it’s a metaphor, I don’t need to worldbuild this” is a weird approach to fantasy. It weakens immersion
For me it depends on the story it’s applied to. If it’s built in more metaphor than fact (Chronicles of Narnia comes to mind) then sure, handwave away. If it’s built on a hard core of logic (FMA comes to mind) then you’re gonna need some kind of an explanation there, bud.
as a cis guy, when presented with the "99% you get a ton of money, 1% you turn into a girl" it honestly would be dumb to not hit that button until it breaks. like ok now i have 100 bajillion dollars and gender dysphoria. big deal. i have all the money in the world to turn me back into a guy. like with that kind of money i could have obama do me a phalloplasty. he wouldnt be able to do it as he isnt a surgeon but the point still stands
Okay but hear me out OP, what if the button does the genie wish thing and it flips your internal experience of gender but doesn't change any of your external sex characteristics? This isn't even a gotcha, I'm just actually curious
well in that case i still end up with the "shitload of money & gender dysphoria" combo but this time obama is doing a vaginoplasty instead
#all roads lead to obama bottom surgery (via epicsause-official)
"Then transition."
I'm at a :.|:; for words.

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This is reminder to check up on your own mental health.
OK thanks