claim to glory

Fun events/M!A’s?? Let’s give it a try!

❣ – VISITOR – A creature has paid a visit to your muse, and they show little signs of being a benevolent soul.

♚ – STARVED – Your muse suddenly becomes very hungry for power, willing to do anything to reach the top and claim glory.

☠ – TOXIC – Your muse has lost any faith in life and humanity and decide to take action, and may deal with that as they may.

☒ – CENSORED – Your muse can no longer tell the truth, and they only speak in lies.

✒ – REVEALING – Your muse cannot lie, and can only speak the truth, whether they know it is true or not.

⇺ – REVERSE – We see an event from your muse’s past, played out in full, as specified by the asker.

웃 – IDENTITY – Your muse must switch bodies with another muse, as specified by the asker (with permission from other blog).

✁ – PERSONA – Your muse will lose a trait of their personality, specified by the asker. 

☻ – DECEIT – Your muse will act as their polar opposite.

✷ – KIN – All asks will  be directed towards a family member of your muse.

❥ – STARCROSSED – Your muse will fall in love with another muse of the asker’s choice.

† – HOLY – Your muse will become an angel or demon, as specified by the asker.

❇ – MUTATION – Your muse will transform into some kind of monster or animal, specified either by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

π – TECHNOLOGICAL – Your muse has become an automaton.

☢ – DISEASED – Your muse has now fallen incredibly ill with a mysterious disease and must be taken care of.

⌚ – CLOCKWORK – Your muse is now older or younger, as specified by the asker.

♘ – PURITY – Your muse wants nothing more than to help others and see to their well-being.

✾ – INHABITATION – Your muse has become possessed by another, foreign entity.

¿ – ALTERNATIVE – Your muse is now part of an alternate universe (crossovers included) of the asker’s choosing.

ᵜ – ANIMALIA – Your muse is now a half-animal being (animal is specified by asker).

☐ – LAME – Your muse loses one of their senses, specified by asker.

✷ – MAGICA – Your muse develops magical powers, as specified by asker or left to mun’s imagination.

◌ – ABSENT – Your muse has amnesia and cannot remember anything about themselves.


There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, 
and many of us will have to pass through
the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.

Sigourney Weaver as Desdemona
Irrfan Khan as Dr. Carrington
Anthony Mackie as Tinker Tom
Billy Zane as Deacon
Zoe Saldana as Glory
Armie Hammer as Drummer Boy


Did you know that canonically, while Roy is doing his burnation thing with Lust, Lan Fan was busy just WRECKING Envy? He couldn’t even lay a finger on her. So yeah, if you only watched fmab, you missed out on how she totally outclassed this dumb little shit. Roy just got to claim all glory of eliminating him later on.

Eyeshadow Part 3

A/N: Part 1, Part 2, read on ao3

Here’s part three because everyone needs three chapters in 24 hours. There’s more angst here >:)

There will be another part after this I promise.

Roman had accused him of hating the others. How could he ever hate them? He loved Roman. Not that he would ever say anything. Not that Roman would ever feel the same. Why would he. Roman was a literal prince and he was just Anxiety. Just the monster that kept Thomas up at night, bothering him with ideas of things in closets and under the bed when he was the real monster. All he ever did was ruin everyone’s day.

Stupid foolish Roman. Of course Anxiety would get confused. Nobody had ever shown him even the slightest amount of care. A random gift out on nowhere? Of course he didn’t believe it. He himself had even joked about ‘slaying the monster.’ The monster being Anxiety of course. How had he never thought about how that might feel from Anxiety’s point of view.

The moment Roman got inside his room he shut the door and flopped into his bed, flying back through every memory where he had cast Anxiety aside and claimed all the glory for himself. How could he have done that? What sort of prince was he, to hurt those he claimed to defend?

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Can’t believe people are calling rogue one an unnecessary movie, fan service etc… because the characters not fun or interesting
This is the only genuine star wars movie that made me cry
I like the idea of normal characters because it shows the lives of the rebellion are based on the normal people who are thrown into some shitty situations as opposed to some chosen badass character like luke or rey also the fact that they are normal unknown people who create opportunities for more mythological characters of the franchise to make them claim their glory

i am so serious when i say that hermione is third generation west indian/jamaican and her doctor parents pushed her to value education bc that’s how you move up in the world

i am so serious when i say that snape is from the caribbean side of colombia and learned his english from james bond movies like from russia with love, and as a kid, equated his magical heritage as claiming some form of glory that meant being known by only your last name, “snape - severo snape.”

i am so serious when i say the potters were independently successful purebloods that immigrated fully to britain from colonial india in the 19th century and have a long history of resistant political activism

i am so, so very serious when i say that being witches and wizards of color in britain in a post-colonial period had a huge impact on how they approached their wizarding education. 

A letter to the Young Black Activist

They never taught me about the black women that sent white men to space.
They never told me about the black trans women who led and bled for the lgbt community.
They never told me about the black men that died in greatness so that others could claim their glory.
They told us our history starts with slavery so that we forgot about the royalty we held in Africa.
I will tell my children, I will teach the students, I will make their paths known.
This revolution is not new, this experience is not an anomaly.
Every darker child in American history from the generations before us has felt the creeping noose of discrimination at their clavicle. Many died in the tree before ever taking an unrestricted breath.
I am thankful to the grandparents of the non white millennial for laying Jim Crow shields around their offspring and teaching the downward gaze that sometimes minimized the brutality but the time has come to shout as loud as their silence.
The elderly should not have to finish what America halted. Pick up your pen, open your laptop, shout at the march and bear your souls at the foot of every courthouse in the nation.
This revolution will not come without sacrifice and community action plans will not glide over morning toast like margarine.
It will be molasses, dark and slow spilling into our glands. Our pores may clog but sweat will push through and we can become one with the message before it is one with the people.
We must carry this sweetness just as we do our melanin, we must hold our dirtied hands and bind together.
Tomorrow is too late a promise for action.
Mobilize the movement.

-Eli Brown - mixed trans poet - 2/2/17

I want to talk about Cassian...

Because of course I do. But I have been having some thoughts about him and his position both within the Inner Circle but also what he does in a wider sense for Rhys and the Night Court and the challenges he must have faced in doing so. 

“And we’re not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We’re just—Illyrians. Considered expendable aerial cavalry for the Night Court at the best of times, mindless soldier grunts at the worst.
“Which is most of the time,” Azriel clarified.

I want to consider how this idea must have shaped Cassian (and Azriel)’s time in the Night Court. This is the court a large chunk of which rejected Rhys – the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history in part because he was half-Illyrian. I don’t think it’s a huge stretch to imagine that this prideful court might not have reacted altogether that well when their armies were placed under the command of a bastard born pure Illyrian warrior like Cassian.

To them the Illyrians are ‘expendable’ or else ‘mindless soldier grunts’ they’re arrow fodder, they’re the consistent vanguard that does the brunt of the damage and takes the brunt of the blows from the oncoming battle and protects the far more important, far more valuable High Fae and faerie warriors of the Night Court behind them. They’re a shield and a battering ram, a tool to be used and little more.

I can’t imagine that they took well to having Cassian placed over them as commander, no matter how he might have proved himself in battle these sort of stereotypes and ways of thinking aren’t something you overcome because of a few good war stories. I can only imagine the backlash that Cassian suffered as a result of this and how these people he would lay down his life to protect more than likely thought him entirely unworthy of his position, unworthy of respect, unworthy of the honour of command, unworthy to lead them.

But I don’t really want to focus too much on that aspect of it. I want to focus on Cassian. And I want to focus on the way in which I think he would have won these warriors over (because he still commands Rhys’ armies. If he’d been unable to do so, unable to earn their loyalty and obedience he wouldn’t)

Methods of controlling/keeping subjects and inferiors in line is something that is brought up in this series. It’s not given a huge amount of attention but it is there. Tamlin is a good example of the other side of Cassian’s coin.

Tamlin and the Spring Court before him is steeped in a tradition of control and control through fear. This is seen on a small scale with the way in which Tamlin responds to Lucien pushing back, he belittles Lucien, “Did I ask for your opinion?”  and uses his considerable power to punish Lucien for an insolent look (a punishment we’re never shown which adds to the sense of fear) 

But it’s seen on a larger scale with the Tithe. People are expected to pay their dues to him and they turn up and do so yes because it’s a symbiotic balance in a way – they provide for Tamlin and he keeps them safe – but also from the fear of him hunting them down and executing them if they don’t do as they’re commanded.

This method is no doubt successful but in the long term it has some very serious, gaping flaws. Ruling with fear leaves little room for anything else and I don’t think it inspires a whole lot of loyalty or respect.

The flip side of this is I think the method that Cassian would have used to bind his warriors to him. I can’t see Cassian ordering brutal punishments or executions for those who refuse to fall in line with him (largely because initially this would likely have meant executing pretty much everyone) I don’t think fear or brutality would have appealed in the least to Cassian (I don’t think he’s a pushover; and if someone betrays them or acts out of turn he will punish them) but initially, making people fall in because they fear him isn’t something I can see him doing.

I think Cassian would have won them to him with love. With compassion and empathy and that heart of his. I think Cassian, the greatest warrior Rhys has ever known, doesn’t use that aspect of himself to command fear and make his men too terrified of his wrath to disobey them – I think he inspires love in his men and I think this love breeds the loyalty and respect that Tamlin is lacking which is why Cassian has been so successful as a commander in the past.

Rhys loosed a breath. “…I’ve witnessed Cassian rip apart opponents and then puke his guts up once the carnage stopped, sometimes even mourn them.

There’s such compassion in Cassian, raw, strong, utterly unapologetic compassion. I think that in spite of being one of the strongest Illyrians in history and being loaded with the killing power, despite everything that’s been done to him and everything he’s seen Cassian retains quite a tender heart. Which is so rare from this type of male character? The cocky warrior with the skills and title to back that up is allowed to have that gentleness to him, is allowed to respond to the things he’s done in this way, is allowed to throw his guts up after killing, is allowed to mourn his enemy because he feels what he’s done so keenly.

Cassian is a warrior at heart. Born and bred and trained to be one of the best killers in Prythian but I think he’s far deeper and more complex than that. He is not only a warrior. He is a trainer and a brother, a friend, a lover and a dreamer. He is not defined by this warrior status. He is not a bloodthirsty killer who delights in battle and argues for war as the way forward in every instance. He is a fighter – the best Rhys has ever come across – but he doesn’t relish it. He doesn’t relish violence or death. He doesn’t take any pleasure in it. He doesn’t claim glory from the things he’s done or the title he holds.

Cassian shrugged, wings tucking in tighter. “I command Rhys’s armies.”
As if such a position were something that one shrugged off. 

But for Cassian that is the way he responds to it because that may be the title that he holds but it is not who he is. It does not define him. His pride does not lie in the number of warriors he has at his disposal, the number of men he can send to slaughter and die. It does not lie in the great, bloody deeds he’s done in war. It does not lie in the people he has killed. It lies in the people he has saved. Which is why Cassian mourns his enemies, the people he’s killed, the people that need not have died, the people that might have been saved and weren’t. All of them. Friend or foe.

When she finally noticed Cassian, she looked up at him.
His voice was rough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.”

This I think is one of the most telling and important moments for sussing out who Cassian is and that last line in particular I think is one of the most defining Cassian quotes I can think of. It tells you what he values, it tells you what he loves, it tells you why he fights which is the most important question for someone like Cassian in the position that he’s in. He must always be ready to fight and die; he must always be able to rationalise it and justify it and live with it afterwards especially when he responds to death the way he does: he must know why he fights and what for.

This is a man who fights because he must. This is a man who fights not for glory or honour or riches or legacy or for the simple pleasure of violence and killing. This is a man who fights for love. For compassion. A man who does these things because he has to, to protect those who cannot protect themselves - for this he will die, for this he will blacken his soul and bloody his hands with the acts of war that make him sick to his stomach again and again and again. To defend those who need it most.

The wrappings around my hands were now mere smudges of soot. Cassian’s upraised palms remained before me—ready to take the blow, if I needed to make it. “I’m all right,” he said quietly. Gently.
And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, “I killed them.”
I hadn’t said the words aloud since it had happened.
Cassian’s lips tightened. “I know.” Not condemnation, not praise. But grim understanding.

This whole scene is beautifully written and put together and incredibly moving and it’s something I fully intend to meta on and pick apart much more completely than this when I reach it again in ACOMAF. But for Feyre for her recovery, for her grief and guilt this moment where she expresses it out loud is a huge turning point for her and incredibly important. But for Cassian too, for understanding him it’s hugely important for his character as well.

This was one of the first moments where I truly saw Cassian; saw the man behind the fighting leathers and the cocky smiles, saw to that burning heart he has inside. This is a point at which you realise that Cassian is a fighter and a warrior and a killer but in spite of all that, deep down, I don’t think that’s what defines him the most. It’s not the core of him, it’s not the heart of him. It’s an aspect of him, a very important one but it’s not the be all and end all of his character or existence.

Which again is something we very rarely see from characters like Cassian who are built up to be great warriors and fighters. They’re so rarely allowed to have the raw emotion that Cassian has. They would so rarely be allowed to make an admission like this, to respond in this way to an act of selfless heroism. He doesn’t try and rationalise it for her or justify it or offer her glory or try and brush it off. He doesn’t pity her. He doesn’t condemn her. He doesn’t praise her. He just understands her.

This is a man of empathy. A man who looks at Feyre Cursebreaker, the girl they hero worship for the thing that makes her vomit her guts up every single night, the thing that torments her awake and asleep, the thing that makes her feel that ‘it should have been me’ and simply says ‘I know’.

 Cassian understands this, understands her, because when history remembers them their legacy will not be cold sweats and fickle dreams. It will not be their grief and sadness for every death on every side. It will be as heroes. With no thought of the price of that heroism, the weight they carry, the blood they can never wash off. It will remember him as the army leader, one of the strongest Illyrians in history, the greatest warrior of his age. It will remember the people he killed. The great deeds he performed. The slaughter and the glory of the warrior incarnate. I hope it does not forget why. I hope it does not forget his heart. 

doctorflashtardiscold  asked:

Hey. Sorry if you have had this before, but do you have any Peter Parker and Tony Stark mentorship and friendship head canons, or any Hank Pym and Tony Stark Headcanons?

I don’t really know/like Hank Pym much, so I’m focussing more on Peter&Tony. I was going to focus more on their overall relationship but then I babbled about the first time Tony took Peter to his labs… sorry. 

  • When Tony first lets Peter into his lab, the teenager looks around with huge eyes. He’s quiet as Tony sweeps an arm over the broad expanse of the room and continues his long, babbling stream of dialogue, telling Peter about security protocols and new holos and Iron Man suits. He’s quiet as he shuffles in, eyes taking in every detail. He’s quiet as Tony mentions not to touch anything.
  • He’s quiet as he touches absolutely everything
  • “What did I just say?” Tony asks, grabbing Peter by the collar and tugging him away from a half-finished block of tech that angrily whirls and hisses smoke and sparks at them. “Am I talking to myself? Do you think I just like to hear the dullecent tones of my own voice? Am I speaking Spanish?”
  • “I can speak Spanish,” Peter says, the first thing he’s voiced since being lead down the winding steps into the technological candy-land.
  • “No, you can’t, kid. I’ve seen your Spanish scores at school.”
  • “You’re seen my grades?” Peter frowns; Tony has the distinct impression the subject is being changed until he’s the one being scolded. “That’s kind of creepy, dude. Isn’t that, like, illegal? To hack into school systems?”
  • “He says, because he’s done it before,” Tony tells his bot. Dum-E spins in a loose, uneven circle on the floor, one arm waggling like a dog’s tail.
  • Peter rubs at the back of his neck. “Don’t tell Aunt May.”
  • They go through the lab, Tony pointing out things, Peter watching with wide eyes and interjecting sporadically. He keeps touching things. Tony has to stay near him and yank him back, like he’s an untrained puppy, or a sticky fingered toddler, or the little, disobedient shit that Tony remembers being at the age. He wonders, briefly, what he was thinking when he recruited the vigilante. 
  • Dum-E follows them around the lab. He seems hesitant about Peter at first, then grows confident when the teenager only beams at his presence, and coaxes him forward.
  • “Don’t encourage him,” Tony scolds.
  • “I won’t,” Peter promises, and then gets down on one knee, and lets Dum-E sidle up close to him, running one gentle hand down his support strut, like he’s patting a dog, looking awed and excited by the bot’s happy wiggling. 
  • “That right there? That’s you encouraging him.”
  • You peeks out from being a workbench and loops around Tony, zipping to the newcomer now that his brother is receiving pats and attention. Peter pats him, too. 
  • “It’s not my fault they like me more,” Peter says airily, You and Dum-E bucking happily under his hands.
  • “Disrespect,” Tony says, arms crossed, trying to look like the responsible, respect-worthy adult he’s supposed to be. “That’s what this is; disrespect. Child, you should respect your elders, and their spaces, and their rules–”
  • “Can we order pizza?” Peter cuts in.
  • “What did I just say–”
  • “Pizza order placed,” says Friday, his AI sounding clear and unashamed as Peter beams. “It should be here soon, Mr. Parker.”
  • “Mr. Parker,” Peter echoes, pleased. “No one’s ever called me Mister, unless I’m in trouble.”
  • “Oh,” Tony says, frowning at the entire room, at his disobedient bots, at his disobedient protege, “you’re definitely in trouble, Mr. Parker.”

The Rogue One vs OT fave competition thing that fandom is doing is … really baffling for me.

I mean, there are lots of reasons, like the fact that Luke Skywalker—far from singly claiming the glory—leads a squadron named in memory of Rogue One. 

But also, a lot of the … hm, guiding principles of the RO characters are lived out by the OT characters?

In particular, one of the essential RO lines for me is 

You’re not the only one who lost everything. Some of us just decided to do something about it.

That’s Cassian, but also it’s hard to think of anything that could better describe the Skywalker twins. Luke lost his entire world over those plans. Leia literally lost her entire world. And it only makes them more determined to throw themselves into the fray.

They do it in the immediate wake of those first terrible losses. And the next year, and the next, and the next, and the next, on and on and on. There’s another essential line from RO:

We’ll take the next chance, and the next, until we win, or the chances are spent.

That is the hope and determination that shapes every one of Luke and Leia’s choices. The Force is with them, and occasional pure luck—but that’s the only reason they don’t meet the same fate as Jyn, Cassian, and all the others. 

Often enough, it might be easier for them if they had. But, however steep the cost, they never stop pushing forward. They never give up.

They couldn’t live with themselves if they did, either.

Cullen’s Mabari headcanons:

- He was born in Denerim and an Orlesian comte bought him as a present for his lover.

- The Mabari never imprinted with his “owner” and passed his days biting fine tables, playing angrily with velvet curtains and using the noble wardrobe as his personal doghouse.

- A servant, a young elf, one day decided to bring him in to the garden “Nobody free as you are should never live trapped in this golden prison!”.

- The first time he was in the garden, the Mabari jumped in a fountain, sniffed every single flower, run with his new friend.

- She had a strange smell, the Mabari noticed - did she touch… a wolf? - but she was sincerly kind and he liked her enough to allow her a quick caress under his ears.

- The girl promised him another round the next day. And she kept her promise day after day.

- The Mabari didn’t imprint with her, but he was happy enough, they were friends, two creatures who masked faces seeing just as something different.

- One day, the girl came for the last time “My master called all of us, my friend. The time for claiming again our glory has come. I’ll miss you!”.

- The Mabari knew that something strange was happened. Voices, a lot of people, too much whispering and too strong the smell of wolf and blood.

- Alone again, the Mabari was walking through scented rooms - too scented, his nose was hurt - and indifferent people.

- “A… Mabari, here?”. A tall man was speaking with another. The Mabari looked at him: he smelled of herbs and leather and iron and grass and wood.

- The man kneeled, asking if he could touch him, the Mabari barked. His hands were strong, but gentle and now that they were so close, the dog could sense something  else: he smelled like home.
He liked that man!

Comparing Discworld Witches to Veterinarians

I’m often asked what it’s like being a veterinarian. I’ve answered this question lots of different ways, but none really give you the full picture. How can you explain your life (because it’s not just a job), in one short post?

What I’d really like to answer these people, most of them teenagers, is that it’s a bit like being a Discworld Witch.

On the Discworld, magic is basically practiced by wizards and witches, and (almost) never the two shall meet. The wizards consider their type of magic superior, and the witches allow them to believe this while they get on with things. Sound familiar?

The witches spend a lot of time dealing with people. A large amount of Granny Weatherwax’s encounters with townsfolk is her inflicting some common sense upon them, and nothing more. Most of the time there is no big flashy magic. Most of the time it’s visiting townsfolk and clipping invalid’s toenails. As vets most of the time it’s little rashes and ear infections (and more toenails).

From time to time (about once per book), the Discworld witches need to bring out a big can of whoop ass on whatever threat to their villages has been concocted this time. This largely consists of one part logic, one part psychology, one part serious magic and a big helping of sheer willpower. Sometimes they literally cheat Death. Afterwards they claim no glory, but go back to their ordinary lives and make a pot of tea. They expect no thanks, it’s just what witches so.

This is a bit like our massive trauma cases, crashing medical cases and GDVs. It’s big, fast, impressive veterinary medicine… and then when it’s over we go back to our allergic patients and peridontal disease. Back to the ordinary, because that’s what we do. You don’t wait around for fanfare or special thanks, because typically you only get thanked after a euthanasia. You just get on with work.

Young witches also spend a long time learning from their elders. They’re not just learning witchcraft, but how to present themselves and how to handle people. Vet students do the same.

The witches are often isolated from each other, like vets. They do routinely catch up with each other, unofficially, to make sure nobody’s started ‘cackling’. Cackling is a particular type of madness for witches, involving evil cackles and gingerbread houses, so they just pop round to make sure it’s not happening. Vets would do well to adopt this philosophy with each other more often. Depression is the elephant in the room for veterinarians. We all know about it. Many of us are looking for it in each other. 

The Discworld Witches books are definitely worth a read, they help to get your head right for the lifetimes potentially awaiting you. I’d probably start with the Tiffany Aching books and then go in chronological order, they’re an easy read to get you started before you seek out the older ones.

The Discworld Witches also gave a prestigious award to a young witch who devised a spell that would make a pig open its mouth and swallow anything you gave it, no questions asked. Definitely something vets would agree with.

Treachery, and a waste of time

Why did I ever waste so much time on someone who became a piece of shit? He is such a terrible person now that I wish that he had died while he was still good man, and valued the truth and not some pseudo-‘new age’-pseudo-‘Catholic’, who unironically supports Communism. What a waste! It’s made worse by him being too cowardly to own up to it, and making dance around excuses like ‘I listen to my conscience no matter where it leads me’. Fuck you, you piece of shit. You know what Nicolae Ceaușescu did to your native country! And you study history? Fucking cunt. What sort of cunt unironically posts Marx and Kropotkin on their Facebook yet claims to find ‘the glory of God in all things’?