Thread for those who like to read and write including fanfiction. Share drafts, look for beta-readers, ask for writing advice, give recommendations and do all that other cool jazz. Just remember to not bully anyone else no matter how shit their taste might be.
412 posts and 99 image replies omitted.>>46282no-historical materialism liberal incel who is seething at the thought of 7 foot tall women warriors lol
Matriarchal social structures exist in the weird transitional period between primitive proto-communism and early capitalism. Saying "matriarchy cannot compete with patriarchy" is like saying "indigenous tribal people in the Americas couldn't compete with Spanish settler colonialist nazis with more modern industrial era technology produced by a modern proletarian class"
>>46358I have started reading it I'll letyou know when im done
Also this human domestication world is fascinating it is drawing me in
>>46355That sounds like the idea of socialism and outsider has plus I released I need to clarify something: I mean a socialist hero as a hero who is the product of a socialist society and not a hero who promotes socialism. That is the comparison that podcast about Santa with Muscles gave me.
>>46356I have not been on this site in years but years ago an answer like this would not been made seriously. Are you serious?
Many men spend a lifetime wishing for a warrior's death. Yet few in the modern era are granted this wish—unless they are soldiers, criminals, or perhaps cancer patients.
The cancer patient may seem out of place here, but make no mistake: to die of cancer is to die a warrior's death. It is a struggle to live pressed against an unstoppable foe—one so formidable that even humanity's most cutting-edge research, technology, and collective effort have yet to defeat it.
They call it remission, but the enemy is never truly gone. The risk merely recedes to a baseline of comfort, a semblance of safety. Like a jackal lurking in the shadows, like desert raiders stalking the night, like old debts returning to claim their due. The modern soldier rarely meets his adversary with naked steel; the cancer patient, however, is trapped in an endless siege, a battle waged across the very terrain of the self. There is no withdrawal without surrender. To fight is to endure constant assault—no clean kill, no decisive charge, only the grinding attrition of a war that rewrites the body with every battle.
Cancer takes no quarter. It observes no truce. It kills women, children, and men alike—the young, the old, the fragile, and the strong. It fells even the mightiest among us: leaders, brothers, those who stand as titans. Like a starving lion, cancer knows no politics, no finesse, no alliance. It exists only to rip, tear, and devour its opponent until nothing remains.
The cancer patient is the last defender at Thermopylae, the lone swordsman against the tide, the hunter staring down the starving lion with nothing but his own fraying strength. His heroism lies not in victory, but in resistance—sustained against an inevitable siege. Any man forced to face a tiger, a cancer cell, or a cavalry charge with only his will and his refusal to yield is, without doubt, a warrior among men.
When such a man falls, he does not fall to weakness. He falls because he stood too long against a force that would have shattered others far sooner. That is the warrior's death—not granted by chance, but earned in the holding of the line. To die of cancer is to die a warrior's death.
>>46502Glorification of suffering is cliche.
It feels of immaturity
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