#fucker is a god damn conservative

[athena5898]

I swear to god, I understand now why various political ideologies get sick and tired of "leftist" now.

If I see one more person call neo liberalism "leftist" I'm going to scream.

I beg of some of you to please do some research, especially on intersectionality!

I'm happy that a lot of you want better policies but "minimum wage should increase and healthcare should be free" is some pretty milquetoast shit tbh. Yall are going to keep getting taken advantage of, including people "on the left" if you don't figure some shit out, kill the cop/oppressor in your head, and disentangle yourself from empires.

Let these events radicalize you, but don't let yourself become ignorant.

Just please at least look into intersectionality and kyriarchy.

[jaythelay]

My thoughts on Kamala/Walz and Palestine involve the Absolute Pants Shitting amount of propaganda and ignorant adoration of genocide by so fucking many, and that Biden was weak as shit while Kamala/Walz feels like they're playing the game and aiming for the end while Biden just told Israel "Yeah sure I'll lie about headless israeli babies that you'll eventually make out of palestinian babies."

Straight up feels like they know they can't just come out and say "Genocide Bad No Matter Who" or risk an absolute plummet in every possible sector, that'a not including the media either who'd flip so damn hard on her for daring to say Genocide Bad No Matter Who.

Seriously I wouldn't flub this election up pointing out the moral obvious when half of all dems, and all but 10 politicians (all dem it was bipartisan that Genocide Good) are just so extatic to defend a Genocide. Imo, and it's all we'll have mind you, an opinion, they'll make progress. Biden, most dems and all but 10 dem politicians, and Dump, are on the same level on this issue.

Just saying, she's talking with groups and called for ceasefires. Biden lied every fucking time Israel shot up a hospital or school or church on christmas, without an ounce of scrutiny, simply regurgitated horrific propaganda that instantly backfired literal days to weeks after the lie.

Kamala hasn't. Not as hard at least, since running as pres. Our efforts are being heard and it's why I fucking lost all respect for anyone who chooses not to accept the reality of Genocide Bad No Matter Who just to feel safer in an election with a guy WE ALL TOLD YOU WAS SHIT and lo and behold? He was! Just not as shit as dump, his literal, only legacy and reason to vote for him.

When even Kamala is doing more than you fucks, I don't want to hear aaaanything ya got to say on any issue. Dems being radically republican about EASILY SOURCED INFORMATION will never not be such a Permanent massive fucking turn off to the entire dem party for me.

Imagine pushing away potential dem voters because you refuse to call a Genocide Bad, while Kamala is making progress to stop it, progress that ya'll sabotaged the absolute whole entire god damn way up every step of the way not missing one potential beat.

Fuck off Pro-Genociders, yur shite and almost cost us the election. Thank fuck for Kamala, and Genuinely not any one of you weak genocide enablers.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[curiousaromantic]

Just finished Ghost of Tsushima main storyline AND Iki Island DLC.

sighs

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, OMG

One of the best games I’ve ever played tbh, it was beautiful, I fell in love with Jin Sakai and his character, like, he is genuinely a beautiful person and omg I felt pretty charmed by his resolve throughout the entire game—more men like Jin Sakai please. (yuna youre so lucky girl…)

I’m not much of a gamer myself, kind of I guess, I play when I have free time in my PS5 and when it comes to action games I’m a coward lol idk why whenever I am pushed into a battlefield I freak out (I almost had a heart attack when I started Ghost of Tsushima and the mothafuckers sent straight to fight at Komoda Beach, HELLO? The intro was so beautiful tho…). But Ghost of Tsushima balanced everything very well, and I enjoyed doing NPCs side missions, I felt powerful and badass.

(The way how the fear that the Ghost inflicts on his enemies is portrayed??? Chef’s kiss honestly. And the Records items, especially Conversations with the Khan, I enjoy the lore with so so so so much glee hehe.)

The characters, I fell in love with the characters. I knew I liked videogames when I first played Far Cry 4 and the characters felt so dear to me, and Ghost of Tsushima brought me back to when I was like 9?? and I was playing FC4 on my dad’s PS3. Jin’s story and the rest of the characters’ Tales hypnotized me, idk. The flashbacks, the foreshadowing, the small conservations within Jin and the others…I was sobbing in the ending and in Masako’s and Yuna’s tales. AND THE LOVELY WAY WE GOT SO MUCH APPROACHES TO IMPORTANT THEMES AS WOMEN EMPOWERING, FAMILY, QUEERNESS, TRADITIONALISM, ETC. jin baby you deserve the world.

Ngl, while I was playing the game not only I cherished every single interaction of Jin and his allies/friends, but I was glad he had the time to talk and rest, yk? And that’s why I love Yuna so much, gods.

From what I’ve seen, many ship Ryuzo and Jin, and while I kind of understand and respect Ryuzo, I don’t personally ship them. I was too excited to duel him the moment he was deemed a traitor lol, this game brought out the worst side of me (i was cackling when i got the ghost stance, run fuckers!). I did cry a lot on Iki Island whenever Jin had Ryuzo’s hallucinations, like, ouch, I would hurt forever if a childhood friendship ended like that.

(Talking about Iki Island, Kenji doing a cameo there LMAO, and Jin teasing him with “so you left Tsushima and you didn’t even bothered to say goodbye?” AJDKAKDKAKS YES YOU TELL HIM JIN)

Now, Jin and Yuna??? Muah muah muah, they are soulmates, romantic or platonically or both. Its the way Jin (throughout the story this loyalty builds up, love that) does everything no questions asked when it comes to Yuna, going with her to her tales? Damn Jin straight went and brought her heads! How romantic. The way Kenji was like “he cannot refuse if I tell him Yuna’s waiting”, AND THE WAY JIN HIMSELF OUTRIGHT SAYS THINGS LIKE ‘I would give my life for you’ OR ‘so you and Takeshi…?’ Hehehe they are so precious. They are definitely in love your honor, at least for me.

Wish I could still find the characters in the map or something after the main story ends, I’m at my new home behind Omi Monastery full of nostalgia because Jin’s home is a mosaic of gifts and remembrances of everyone he has known. Yuna’s gift, Ryuzo’s hat, Taka’s hook, Kenji’s sake, First Horse’s saddle (Nobu precious, I wish you had been there with me 😭) and lots of other stuff from Masako, Ishikawa, Lord Shimura, and many others that I don’t remember rn. Like, it is clear Jin loves his homeland, his people, his friends, I’m sure he would have made a perfect Lord, aw.

Thank you for reading my venting. Now, I need fanfics.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter One

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality.

Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

----------------------

Chapter One

It’s a hard day to walk across a desert.

I didn't know about deserts. Well. Knew about them, but only as a concept—a memory of a memory, facts and figures. Not feelings. Not the actual fucking experience of walking across this arid, arrogant land that dares burn me, a god, as I traverse it.

Human bodies, I’ve decided, are walking pieces of shit.

Heat shimmers, screwing with my vision on top of everything else. Or maybe it’s the dehydration. Still, I think I see a place up ahead. I’m sure I do. I am right. I will it so.

Then I trip and fall—not for the first time—and land heavily on this hard-packed dirt, on the sharp little stones, and now, for the first time in my existence, the first time since I gained flesh and blood and a heart to pump it, I speak: “Fucking damn it! Gods damn… shit fucker… shit!”

My stupid human hands bleed.

Well. At least yelling made me feel better. I’m not sure about the reason for that, but I’ll take the relief.

Up, King. You are holy. You are important.

Yes, yes, I know. Shut up, voice. Whoever that voice is. Keeps trying to tell me where to go. Didn’t want me going this way. But it’s wrong. I have to. I feel him up ahead. The town (I will it to exist, not like some mirage) awaits my arrival. Ready or not, you fuckers, here I come.

#

It is a human town of modest means. Dust on everything, dust in the horse-water (Troughs, supplies the voice), dust on clothes and in hair and on skin. People move like they’re conserving energy—small steps, no wasted movement, eyes shaded against the cruel sun, and lips in tight and terrible lines.

Everyone notices me here.

Good. They damn well better. They may not know it yet, but their new god has come, and they will honor him.

Me. They will honor me. Damn this confusing language.

You’re doing fine, King, says the voice.

Fuck that guy. I don’t… remember that guy. The voice was there when I woke, was there to tell me of clothes and water and names of body parts, was there to say what happened at the end (and I don’t remember what happened, but his recollection feels wrong), and is just there now.

I don’t know why I don’t trust him, but I don’t. Still. I’ve done everything he says—except staying where I was. I couldn't do that. What I want wasn’t back there. It’s here.

A man in all black with a battered but polished star-shaped badge meets my gaze and holds it. His own eyes gleam under his wide-brimmed hat, and his expression seems wary.

I should blast him.

Don’t blast him, says the voice. Not yet, anyway.

Fine. I stare back, giving as good as I get (for which he should be grateful because he isn’t melting).

“Afternoon,” he says with a nod, touching the tip of his hat.

I can do that. “Afternoon,” I say back, returning the gesture.

“New in town?” says the guy.

Law enforcement, says the voice. Just play nice. You aren’t at full power yet, and a bullet would still hurt you.

“Yep,” I drawl, because he drawled, because this newly-woven brain absorbs knowledge at a rate I’m sure would terrify this simple human.

“Plannin’ on stayin’ long?” he says.

Careful.

Like I needed to be told. Stupid voice. “Depends on what I find,” I allow, drawling even harder (take that).

“Oh?” He tips his head back a little. This man moves smoothly; he’s older than I thought, his hair gray on the sides of his face, but his eyes are sharp, and his hands are steady. “What is it you’re looking for, stranger?”

“A man,” I say. “A very specific man. I know he's here.”

“Well, I might could help you out there, seein’ as I’m the sheriff of this town, and I know just about everybody,” he says, taking his damn time to say it, too, and pauses to spit some brown, nasty poison on the side of the road.

Chew, says the voice. Tobacco.

Ew! “Kind of a private guy. Travels. Big into nature, plants and animals, that sort of thing,” I say, drawling even slower. “Goes by the name… of Arthur Lester.”

The voice hisses in my head. That’s new.

The sheriff goes real still. That’s bad.

I keep myself real still, too. If he tries to shoot me, he won’t be too happy how it goes.

“You sure about that?” said this sheriff, low.

I wish you’d waited for me to come to you instead, says the voice.

Yeah, no. “I’m sure.”

“How’d you even…” The sheriff stops and shakes his head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you where you can find him, friend: in Jack’s Bar.” He points down the way toward a saloon. Faint honkey-tonk music filters past the batwing doors, out of tune and atrocious, and I just know that place will smell.

Why would an immortal wizard be there? “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff doesn’t hesitate. “Anybody asks you questions, you can say Dowd said you’re okay for now. For now, mind. No shootin’, no breakin’ shit, no ruining anything in my town, you hear me?”

Ruin? Ruin?

I could wreak havoc on this place. I could burn it down to ash, to embers and screams, I could roast their bones over the fires of their flesh, I could—

Laughter creeps out of the saloon. Fuck. They’re doing things without me. I never thought of that before. The world continuing, emotions soaring, all without my knowledge or permission.

“That’s quite the look on your face, friend,” says sheriff Dowd, and it’s not nearly as friendly a tone.

“I just want to talk to him,” I say, because it is completely true. “I don’t plan to stay here a minute longer than I have to.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says. “Off you go, now.”

Teeth clenched (what a weird feeling), I stalk toward Jack’s Bar.

#

It stinks, just like I thought it would.

Alcohol, vomit, and sex all linger here, just wisping past me like old smoke, and I briefly hate being in a human body. This weird form reacts to those things, like it wants to throw up, too, or something.

The men in here are sweaty. They wear suspenders, simple shirts, trousers of leather or linen, hats, and boots. The women wear voluminous dresses, cinched tight, that somehow manage to hide everything and reveal everything at once.

Fuck, this place smells like rotten teeth. Fuck.

It’s just for now, I remind myself. For now. Obviously, Arthur Lester has found a way to overcome this, or he wouldn’t be here. Fortunately for me, he’s easy to spot.

He’s so much better than all this fodder. Arthur Lester sits at the bar, leaning forward. His robe drapes his shoulders and falls in wide strips past his legs, just brushing his knee-high boots and held in place with his wide leather belt. There is no hat in sight.

I can tell by looking at him that he does not smell like the humans around him do. For one thing, his nails are perfectly clean. His hair—an indeterminate brassy color—is brushed back, neatly tied at the nape of his neck, and curls a little into the hood of his robe. He grips a mug of dark ale like a life-raft, staring into it and through it, like this is the only thing keeping him tied to this plane. His face and his eyes are red, like maybe he’s been crying. And all around him, warping the air, leeching color from floorboards, blurring the faces of anyone near him, is power.

Oh. Oh, this man. This is what I’m looking for. Right here.

My King, I could provide anything he could with significantly less trouble.

Whatever, voice. Shut it. I have my target now.

I approach him, unblinking. My stupid boots make noise, clunking and clonking. The leather of my vest creaks like some traitorous skin, and my poncho rustles. Even so, Arthur Lester doesn’t look up until I’m practically on top of him.

His eyes are solid blue, no pupil. Holy fuck. He’s blind?

“What?” he says, and something about the way he says it—the emphasized air in the wh, the crispness of the t—tells me that he speaks with an accent different from what I’ve so far heard. Fascinating.

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! says the voice. Then the world explodes in fire and screaming, and the voice in my head is calling me names he absolutely should not.

[chapter two] [masterpost]

[thessalian]

Thess vs Non-Proportional Representation

So, with an eighty-six seat majority (and two constituencies undeclared), Labour has won the election by the proverbial landslide. The Conservatives lost 251 seats in total (including Penny Mordaunt, Jacob Rees-Mogg, and that asshole Grant Schapps, which almost makes up for Badenoch and Patel staying). The Liberal Democrats got 71 seats, which kind of surprised me because I'm sorry, but bungee jumping is not a damn campaign strategy. And the Greens and the Reform Party both got four seats. The former is pretty good. The latter is horrifying.

And it's even worse when you look at the actual voting numbers, and start seeing the exact problem with First Past The Post. Focusing on the main parties (and leaving aside Plaid Cymru, SNP - which took a beating but never mind - the DUP etc), here's number of votes to number of seats:

Labour - 9,712,011 (412)

Tories - 6,814,469 (121)

Liberal Democrat - 3,499,933 (71)

Reform - 4,091,549 (4)

Green - 1,939,502 (4)

Other independent parties - 839,492 (7)

Does someone want to explain to me how the fuck that works? It's not that I'm not glad that Reform didn't get more seats than it did, or that the Greens managed to get some seats, but when you look at the actual numbers, Reform voters outnumber Lib Dem voters and yet somehow Lib Dem's got seats in the double digits. Indie parties got more seats combined than Greens or Reform with fewer overall votes!

Basically what overall votes show me is how much worse this could have and should have been. It shows me how many scary fucking people are in this country. Nearly 4.1 million votes for Reform, dear gods. I don't know what in the right wing bullshit is going on in this damn country but dear gods, I hope Labour a) does enough good for the economy that maybe they'll simmer the fuck down and b) doesn't decide to tilt way, way too fucking far to the right to appease these fuckers. They still got a third more votes than the Tories, so that's something, but when an ultra-right monster of a 'party' (actually a corporation, but whatever) gets the third-largest chunk of the vote share, I get worried. Mostly because I and a lot of people I care about are in the demographic that those assholes want to just get rid of.

I still want proportional representation. I mean, this is just gross. I have to dig pretty far down to find out what "the will of the people" actually is. But the will of some of these people scares me, and I can only hope that the current sitting government fixes enough of what went wrong so that it tilts back the other way. This country is so proud of being "the tiny island nation that stood up against the Nazis", and yet nearly 4.1 million voted for Nazis. There are reports of Nigel Farage having said "Hitler was right" (though he has the political acumen not to quite say that nowadays, and apparently blamed pro-Hitler sentiment in his party on an "admin error", and how the fuck you do that, I have no idea, but anyway) and admired Enoch Powell. (Erm, for the Americans - Tory leader in the 60s, was dead set against us joining the European Economic Community, and gave what is called the "Rivers of Blood" speech in 68 talking about how significant Commonwealth immigration and the Race Relations Act would ensure that "the black man had the whip hand over the white man" in 10-15 years. It was a racist manifesto and it was disgusting. I would also like to note that Margaret Thatcher thought that speech had "some meat" and there was also very little uproar about it in the House, so the fact that he got punted out of government and never held a senior seat in government again is kind of a miracle, but never mind.)

4.1 million people voted for bigoted dickcheeses and I don't know where the government is going right now. I'd like to be happier that the Tories are out but I can't. Not until I've seen some evidence that this is actually going to be change for the better. Fingers crossed for the first 100 days, I guess.

[kekkuda]

How in the fuck did we as a genus have such consistently shit taste for almost 3 million years that we decided that fur was less attractive than weird sparse wiry hair

Furthermore why the fuck did we lose all the hair on our faces and then re evolve it but only so it grows super long right next to your lips where it catches food and harbors bacteria

Further furthermore why the fuck do cishet men insist on making said hair look like this.. got the fucking. Amorphous mass. What the fuck you think this shape compliments anyone’s face well? Fucker you can’t pull off the spherical Pomeranian look bc beard hair isn’t soft. I look at this shit and imagine touching it with my fingers and hearing a fucking crunch and then I imagine the feeling of a tangle of fucking … 10 gauge wires,, just unbelievably coarse hair on my fingertips and I want to vomit. If I had facial hair this repulsive I’d check into the fucking psych ward bc if I ever got to a point where I was convinced this style was acceptable I’d have to assume I was on the cusp of my most devastating manic episode yet

Why the fuck are human beings so fucking creepy and fleshy and inconsistently haired with fucking mouths that have turned partly inside out .. all of this adds up to curse my eyes with fucking matt Walsh who looks like any dime a dozen mid 2010s hipster IPA enthusiast and yet i have zero clue how this fuck in g loser managed to style himself in such a way that his lips poking out of his weird ass fucking mustache evokes a phantom scent of day old unrefrigerated deli ham with a hint of axe body spray. I feel fucking nauseous over this Jfc how can you make so much money on the conservative influencer grift machine and chose this as your style? Fuck man why are humans so fucking hard to look at god fucking damn it. So fucking greasy shiny and covered in pores it’s some shit that was never meant to be seen I swear to god H. sapiens is so fucking unsettling its like fuck man. What fucking happened to good creature design honestly this shit is so corporate and manufactured , honest to god a hot contender for the worst primate creature design ever. Weeeeeeird fuckjng meat face, no sagittal crest, plantigrade feet and stupid fucking hips and the greatest sin of all, no fucking tail and then to add insult to injury : conservative influencers looking simultaneously unnaturally curated and groomed, lacking in personality or any modicum of creativity , and ultimately forcing me to involuntarily recall the scent of sour groin sweat and pickle juice. I just know the wretched thing oozes an oily secretion that covers all the skin why are human beings so uncanny

[thepoolhead1]

since literally no one will look at this post because of the lack of tags (idk how that shit works), i will proceed to vent about what i hate about the stupid church im forced to participate in.

my immediate family goes to a conservative christian megachurch and it is agony. since it is a megachurch that probably doesnt pay taxes and gets its members to donate (checks notes) over a million dollars a year to support their totally ethical business.

as a young person, i am apart of this church’s student program where young, impressionable teenagers are hammered to death with teachings that rely way too much on one source (doubt it would fly in ap lang). one program in particular is one where people pay up so their kids can leave the concrete hell of (sub)urban life and live in the middle of the woods for a week while we learn about jesus fucking christ.

now how the camp works is that we are split up into groups of about 10 led by one adult. we all share a small cabin and we learn about jesus fucking christ together. each day, we would team up with another group for the ultimate collab and we would learn about jesus fucking christ. in these discussions, you could really see these people’s true colors. one thing that cropped up was the brief but apparent animosity towards the lgbtq+ people. this isnt anything new but it made me want to get up and leave. i just couldnt. i may be a bit biased as a closeted bi but i think it’s not that good to have seemingly irrational hatred toward a group of people that try to be who they are.

the biggest pisser for me were these two people that were getting on my nerves even though i tried my damndest to silently say fuck off.

every night, everyone would gather in a worship center and we would all sing about some weird metaphors and shit. me, being the edgy badass i totally am, didnt give a flying shit and made it apparent by plopping in earbuds and listening to whatever i felt like. this caught the attention of the group leader, who threatened confiscation, so i sat on the opposite side of the row as him. easy. then this fucker showed up.

at first it was just one. she saw i was sitting down during the songs. she saw i had earbuds in. “blasphemy,” she thought. “he must be dealt with.” so she approached me and asked what was up. i responded as vaguely as possible, not willing to give any ground. she eventually fucked off until i was a repeat offender i accidentally let my guard down and let something slip.

shit.

i was somehow able to get out unscathed though. i was lucky. the next time, she brought backup. a brother? a boyfriend? i didnt give a fuck but i didnt like him. they pestered me, asking me questions. they were merciful enough to keep prodding to a minimum, but i had to stand my ground. eventually, the backup tried his final attack: asking for my contact info so he could watch my every move. this attack was sneaky but i avoided it. the nightmare was finally over. i couldnt wait to get back home so i could pretend i overslept so i could skip church.

my favorite part of the camp was the free time. i would just sit under a beach umbrella and look out over the lake water and think: “damn. god aint shit.”

this is my first personal rant and this will not be the last. this is tagless because i just want to get shit out there. not commercialize it. its three am and i might sleep.

[cleoselene]

I have been dealing with an MS relapse and I didn’t even watch game 1 of the World Series (who saw Schwarbs as our taco hero, seriously?!)

but I’m almost too upset by the attack on Paul Pelosi to even speak on it.  There is no living American politician I admire more than Nancy Pelosi and I think she has quietly been one of the most consequential people of my lifetime.  She is the reason we have the ACA and so many other cherished pieces of legislation.  She has held the line against the worst of GOP presidents and been as efficient as possible when she’s had slim control.  People on both sides hate her for being so damn good.

And no one ever sees her for what she is: a mother of five, a grandmother, an elderly woman who has dedicated her life to public service to the least of us.  The thought of some monster coming in with a hammer trying to murder her is beyond horrifying and I’m horrified her husband had to endure that.  A miracle he survived.

It just fills me with this severe existential dread because the reaction to this stuff is never proportional -- when Democrats do wrong, we over-correct.  When a conservative psycho acts out, it gets normalized and rationalized.  My mother and I were discussing it on the phone and she said, “What do we do?  Do we have to be violent, too?”  And that is what they want.  They want us to be so angry that they literally start a civil war.  It’s what these monsters fantasize about in their biggest jerkoff fantasies where they’re some 2020s version of George Washington and it’s fucking stupid.  There’s this confluence of media and culture and the way we have warped our politics and history with creating god-like idols of historical figures, imagining themselves as revolutionaries and film heroes at the same time.

I hope this fucker has a miserable time in a prison he never gets out of.

[kalianos]

(I was a little peeved last night while writing all this. Now with well rested little notes!)

Trapped waiting in this parking lot for the last hour and a half.

Giving coworker a ride home due to various reasons.

Wanted to visit family member in medical care.

....waiting. waiting. Waiting. WAITING.

Car has been off for a while to conserve gas. Hot missouri night.

Agitated all day. Mildly enjoying that someone at this other building always conviently calls out whenever I am on the schedule for some reason. (Sure it's just coincidence)

Don't care, this is the creepy older fuck who is exmormon, caused teenage girls on prom night to cry calling them whores for being in nice dresses in a walmart, and holds massive whiny bitch grudges because I don't tell him bye when leaving the work place. (Mildly still mad like the rest of the dish pit this man doesn't do his job ever. He gets in the way of everyone else's job and then does his. Claims staying hours late is okay because he is "helping".)

...also constantly complains about twelve odd medical issues, collapsing lungs, still smokes like a freight train. (He's an idiot)

I'm missing out on a Shrek 2 group watch for boiling my ass in my car waiting. (And mount grinding in shadowbringers.)

"Hey take your time man." (Me being generically generous)

"OH don't say that. You'll be here till 1am."

.....man he better not have been fucking serious.

Oh well. Town just got a whataburger so I guess I know what I am doing later before I have to drive an hour home.

...fucker I have to worker tomorrow too hurry the fuck up

I can only read the pathfinder 2e bestiary so many times waiting. (Just bought it that day. Garbage truck and a charger nearly jammed into me on the way back to work)

Tired, hungry, sweating. Going to take a long shower when I get home. (...I didn't)

Fuck man I try to be a good person but this shit is ridiculous.

"OH man a car that doesn't smell like cigarettes and isn't an uber."

Bitch maybe I should be charging Uber rates! ( He paid me $20 for the trouble)

Fucking fuck I have a god damn life. I was going to stop by and say hi to my parents but that's out the window. (They finally acknowledged I was in a relationship and wanted to give me a card celebrating. Five years later.)

Well since we are for some reason both down here while I write this and you read this.

Oop he showed up.

Oh the part where I was mad because he wanted to go to Walmart at 10:20 pm didn't save. Weird. Didn't get home untill midnight. Hate it there. Need a new job. Sick of babysitting older people who don't care and dealing with nurses who know nothing about diets and allergies. Sick of giving up nights of my life because if this give a mouse a cookie shit when I live an hour away from the final destination of this night.

Bah.

I don't miss my early twenties. I just wish I didn't grow into a sour person in my now early thirties.

I should write out a horny story for old times sake for pride month. Lord knows I'm not getting story commissions.

[jack-bytez-genuine-corner]

Just want to say that I agree with most of what you were saying in your rant in the radiohead political furry art post. I can understand and empathise with not wanting to vote for Biden but seriously people need to be fucking for real like voting third party has ever done everything. We can’t organise a revolution in less than a year gang

I had to cut down an entire novela but I appreciate this sentiment and really just wanted to add that if you're in the US and choose, actively, NOT to vote, and claim you care about Palestine and care about this or that serious issue: You're a hypocrite and even more culpable than the blood thirsty genocidal maniacs, because with all of your privilege, you chose not to fight for them, instead using your luxury to throw up your hands, lay down and just take it. People choosing to sit out elections is why I have long covid and am now disabled and had to drop out of college for a job I love. People choosing to sit out elections is why women don't have bodily autonomy. Sitting out elections is why we didn't deal with Global Warming in 2000s and why we killed millions of innocent people over several decades of unjustified wars. We're talking a few hundred votes totaling a couple thousand that is the difference between people in Congress who are fighting THEIR OWN PARTY to help Palestine having some power and some sway vs throwing the election to Trump and Republicans who have publicly said they don't just support genociding Palestinians across the world but that they would like to start doing it here at home too.

Palestinians don't get to throw up their hands and give up, and if you use every god damn leg up to give up you're just as bad as those fuckers. And I say that as a man who hates Joe Biden and thinks his culpability for aiding conservatives is part of why the US is in such a shit state as it is. Him and every Blue Dog Dem are, were, and will forever be among the worst people in government for what atrocities they allowed to happen. It's him or a guy who literally says he wants to be a dictator. It's Dems who have progressives who are risking their careers to try and prevent a genocide or Republicans who won't be happy until they get to personally shoot their enemies. That's it, if you don't like it, get pissed and push candidates who want money OUT of politics, who want elections to be popular vote, who hate pointless wars, and if you don't get that it's harm mitigation that year and then it's fighting every year after. I hate that people would rather just give to then even try and get involved.

[hustlemeanokay]

Okay so, I couldn't help it but I feel the need to put this out there.

So, first - let me say this and don't immediately freak out and rawwr and run off. I was born and raised in Texas. Okay, breathe. Just breathe. It's okay. Really. It is. I grew up in Austin. That's the capitol for those who don't care to know other states capitals, it's okay - I really don't blame anyone for not knowing. But the point of it is, that - that's where the laws are made in TX. And here's the thing.

Austin is liberal as fuck. I'm not even kidding. Like... Gay pride, Live Music, Keep Austin Weird (this is where this shit started - not lying), all of it. Like, hippies and Eeyore's birthday party shit. And yet... that's where these fucked up laws are made and these fucked up lawmakers seem to work. They don't live there... don't for a single fucking second think they fucking live in Austin. They don't. That Ted Cruz fucker lives in Houston. Likewise, a lot of those asshats live way outside Austin. Because again, Austin is liberal as fuck.

And so it's so fucking strange to me (and anyone else who grew up in Austin) to witness the political climate there. Because like... it's not that in Austin. I just isn't. People in Austin like kick-ass cheese dip, pride parades, sweet tea, cross-dressing street-walkers, live music, swimming in cold fucking water, good beer, and bbq - probably in that order. So when the political shit hits the fan, we're all just stunned. Because... it's not like that there. Now... you go outside Austin and holy shit. Different story.

But Texas isn't alone in this. I live in Washington now and it's the same fucking thing here. I shit you not. Except here, it's like Seattle and Olympia are both liberal as fuck. But the state itself? Could not be more fucking conservative. It's fucking wild. In these insanely conservative states, you've got these little islands of liberals that just so happen to be the god damned capitals of those states and it's like WTF.

[grlcrazy]

I apologize but this will be long.

A man raped my mother and I was born. A young boy raped me for several years before I could even walk. I had sexual desire before I even knew what sex was. On top of all this, I was born a male.

Even if I transition, I will never have the opportunity to experience the woman I could have been. I have silenced my womanhood, my creativity, my spirituality, and my honesty for decades.

As long as I could remember, I long as I could remember I loved smelling feminine. If I can't be a woman, fuck, as least I can smell like one. I'll never forget it. One day I was shopping at Bath and Body Works and this woman comes up to me screaming that everything in the store is for a woman. She asked me why I was in the store. I was stealing her womanhood. I wanted to say, Bitch, please, but I walked out of the store, as always defeated.

It is so good to see so many people receive gender affirmation support yet our country hasn't evolved. I remember when Gwen Araujo was brutally murdered and Matthew Shepard murdered for being gay and his body was laid out for all to see, this is what happens when you are different, you die.

What's really fucked up about this. Everyone hates transgender people. I was 13 years old and walked into a gay club with my mother's wig and clothes. My mother was in her 70's. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, it just felt good to feel like a woman. People gender-shamed me and I left in tears never to try to live truly again.

Fucking. Dick is like crack. I was 17 when I was fucked and wasn't raped. A soldier boy. He cum inside me and nothing in the world has felt so fucking good. That was it. No one or nothing ever felt that good ever again. I tried, but I am soft and reject anything hard. I stop fucking men because I had such control of my ass muscles most men would cum within seconds. How fun was that? I had a lover who was also transgender but when I felt his five o'clock shadow. I was done. I don't want my dick. You can have it. It does me no good. All it does is remind me how fucked up I truly am.

I am god damn 58 years old. I am married with children. What the fuck am I supposed to do. I have my soulmate but she is so homophobic she would probably kill me if she knew. People are especially transphobic. It is so degrading when she belittles one of my sisters.

This world is fucked up. The very men who talk shit about us and want to pass laws to silence us are the ones driving down our streets looking to put their little dicks in our asses and suck on our titles. I think they just don't want to be exposed.

I am writing this to ask you to fucking share with assholes who think that a transgender woman is dressing in women's clothes to fulfill some fucking personal fantasy. You have no idea what the fuck I have been through. Oh year, by the way, I know a ton of women who are fucked up because some CIS asshole wanted to own her, rape her, and have incest with her.

Mother Fuckers don't know. I have family members and friends who are escorts and sex workers. These so-called Christian conservatives are fucking us and going home to their wives acting as if they are somebody special.

We are fucking human beings with life experiences that your expensive dull-ass suit-wearing limp dick mother fucker would slice your wrists if you had to walk in our shoes.

So many of us are getting killed by these assholes and nobody gives a fuck. A fucked up human being shot up in the only place of safety in Colorado Springs for our community and you want to say your thoughts and prayers are with me. I do as Jesus did. You whitewash hypocrite. You are more concerned about your appearance than who you truly are. Man judges the outside and God judges our hearts. How's your heart, you bastard. I wish I could be like Will Smith. Take my savior's name out of your fucking mouth. Bitch.

I'll end with this. I will stand up and even die for my sisters. Ladies, don't waste this opportunity. Be authentic whatever that means to you. Don't let anyone define you in any way. Know that you are not alone. I have a lifetime of pain in my heart and this is the only way I can get rid of it. Please forgive me for taking up your time.

Please know that I love you and I am hurting too. Don't take your own life. If we die, let the blood be on the fuckers who put us in this place to be murdered. Religious my ass. They have a rude awakening when they die. God isn't some bitch they can control. They don't have a fucking clue even though they are doing sinister shit in the name of God. Don't let the bastards get to you.

Thank you for reading. I hope this helps someone. If anything, vent with me Sista.

#fuckedupshit #trans #transgender #bitchplease

[schizononsince]

Sick of seeing the way we talk about detransitioners as if they are sub human.

As if they're created just to take away our rights.

You've got beef with the TERFs and extreme conservatives that use a false guise of welcoming them warmly to turn them against us. Not the detransitioners themselves.

Yeah, they're adults. They're capable of being adults. They aren't babies.

But you as a fellow trans person should know what it's like to be shunned, bastardized, and pushed away just for being different.

And that's exactly what we do to them.

Can you fuckin blame them for turning to the only people who treat them like victims?

AND DON'T EVEN START. they ARE victims. Victims of the same community that should have PROTECTED them.

But simply because they go against the grain of our lives as trans people, you fucking hate them? Because you don't understand them? My my, doesn't that sound familiar.

My heart goes out to any ' detransitioner ' who feels like nowhere is safe for them.. I don't care what the reason you detransitioned is.

You are the mirror image of us, you are a path to finding yourself. And it doesn't matter if people don't understand you. You shouldn't be judged for the path you followed on exploring gender.

What you are is Beautiful in itself. Don't let anyone make you feel like an abomination. Because honey? These mother fuckers are projecting their own fears and insecurities onto you. They project what they've been taught about GNC folk, but because it's more accepting to kick a detransitioner than it is to kick a trans person, they single you out.

Not all trans people are like this. And I find it fucking sick that I have to admit that TERFs have one single point about us; we shun you. For no reason other than ignorance and hate.

Judge the person for their actions. Not their gender. That goes for detransitioners too.

Do not fucking @ me to spew hate about how you can't stand detransitioners. Go to fucking therapy and learn to have some god damn compassion for people.

[chocoenvy]

For some reason I remembering that time I reincarnated as a slime and I'm just imagining slime darling

Like darling gets chased for wearing the face of the imposter but

Arrows? Inhaled

Swords? Snacks

Claymore? Chew toys

Ok bye my brains not working properly and I have work to do

this. love it. Just the thought of god!reader in general being so powerful that the characters are just not even a threat for them <333

would it be like how it happens in the anime? Being able to switch between slime and human?

Either way, can't stop thinking about how much the slimes would love you. In human or slime form they're following you like lost dogs and cuddling with you.

If you do get hunted down, to no avail due to your transformation abilities, they'll probably think you're some kind of adepti from another land (like adepti "rank" but from a different nation or world entirely).

Which makes it more damning to them because how dare you wear the face of their god, you're not even from here. I think it'd be better to clump this in with a reader than can transform into anything right? So if they notice that you can transform into anything or anyone at anytime, they'll just think you stole their god's face even more.

But! If reader is mortally wounded, their shape-shifting powers go away. To conserve energy and maybe when they shape-shift it's just odd reflections of light, so that means once reader gets injured they transform into their original form because you can't injure something that's not real.

Just a thought though. I like it!

YO- Shapeshifting sexy thief reader???????????????

Transforming into Zhongli for easy access into Jueyun Karst so you can steal Cloud Retainer's trinkets. Maybe one of her trinkets is something she took from you. Maybe (this is from another ask i haven't answered yet) she had took your phone from you. So you now have your phone!

... at 2%

But! You can transform into a slime! So just... charge your phone yourself! LDKFJdslkf

And once it's charged, you have blackmail :)

Do you know all the weird shit people have drawn the characters doing? What people have done with the official models?

BRO IMAGINE HAVING PICTURES OF OBSCURE SHIPS??? Like if you threatened Yae with pictures of her and Ei she'd be unphased. Like, yes sweetie, we make out, get over yourself.

But pictures of her and Ayato??? SHE'D DIE IF THAT GOT OUT. WHO'S YOUR SUPPLIER, WHERE'D YOU GET THESE????

So now you like at the grand narukami shrine :) and none of the shrine maidens like you (especially the one in yae's demo LASKDJFASD-) But the foxes adore you and their opinion means much more than theirs so you feel welcomed.

Its also so fun to transform into a fox and have the shrine maidens be in awe at how a fox is letting them pet it. You could either let them keep the fond memory... or destroy it by transforming back and rubbing it in their face that they were petting you.

Eventually though, I imagine they'd warm up to you. They may not have liked you but Yae loves watching the shrine maidens look at animals and monsters thinking "Is this that little fucker?"

So you grow on all of them. And once someone from one of the commissions find you -because eventually they will - and take you away, they'll fight tooth and nail for you. The shrine's so boring now without you, and your little playful scuffles with Yae were hilarious. When the both of you worked together to tease the shrine maidens, it was terrifying. At the same time though, Yae could always tell when it was you and maybe show some mercy to the shrine maidens.

Just. The shrine is so empty without you terrorizing them. Your reckless but lighthearted playful attitude contrasting Yae's serious and sometimes malicious teasing was such a nice atmosphere once you get used to it.

"That fucking rat got captured? Welp, gotta go and get the damn rat."

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter One

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality.

Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

----------------------

Chapter One

It’s a hard day to walk across a desert.

I didn't know about deserts. Well. Knew about them, but only as a concept—a memory of a memory, facts and figures. Not feelings. Not the actual fucking experience of walking across this arid, arrogant land that dares burn me, a god, as I traverse it.

Human bodies, I’ve decided, are walking pieces of shit.

Heat shimmers, screwing with my vision on top of everything else. Or maybe it’s the dehydration. Still, I think I see a place up ahead. I’m sure I do. I am right. I will it so.

Then I trip and fall—not for the first time—and land heavily on this hard-packed dirt, on the sharp little stones, and now, for the first time in my existence, the first time since I gained flesh and blood and a heart to pump it, I speak: “Fucking damn it! Gods damn… shit fucker… shit!”

My stupid human hands bleed.

Well. At least yelling made me feel better. I’m not sure about the reason for that, but I’ll take the relief.

Up, King. You are holy. You are important.

Yes, yes, I know. Shut up, voice. Whoever that voice is. Keeps trying to tell me where to go. Didn’t want me going this way. But it’s wrong. I have to. I feel him up ahead. The town (I will it to exist, not like some mirage) awaits my arrival. Ready or not, you fuckers, here I come.

#

It is a human town of modest means. Dust on everything, dust in the horse-water (Troughs, supplies the voice), dust on clothes and in hair and on skin. People move like they’re conserving energy—small steps, no wasted movement, eyes shaded against the cruel sun, and lips in tight and terrible lines.

Everyone notices me here.

Good. They damn well better. They may not know it yet, but their new god has come, and they will honor him.

Me. They will honor me. Damn this confusing language.

You’re doing fine, King, says the voice.

Fuck that guy. I don’t… remember that guy. The voice was there when I woke, was there to tell me of clothes and water and names of body parts, was there to say what happened at the end (though I remember what happened, and his recollection mismatches mine), and is just there now.

I don’t know why I don’t trust him, but I don’t. Still. I’ve done everything he says—except staying where I was. I couldn't do that. What I want wasn’t back there. It’s here.

A man in all black with a battered but polished star-shaped badge meets my gaze and holds it. His own eyes gleam under his wide-brimmed hat, and his expression seems wary.

I should blast him.

Don’t blast him, says the voice. Not yet, anyway.

Fine. I stare back, giving as good as I get (for which he should be grateful because he isn’t melting).

“Afternoon,” he says with a nod, touching the tip of his hat.

I can do that. “Afternoon,” I say back, returning the gesture.

“New in town?” says the guy.

Law enforcement, says the voice. Just play nice. You aren’t at full power yet, and a bullet would still hurt you.

“Yep,” I drawl, because he drawled, because this newly-woven brain absorbs knowledge at a rate I’m sure would terrify this simple human.

“Plannin’ on stayin’ long?” he says.

Careful.

Like I needed to be told. Stupid voice. “Depends on what I find,” I allow, drawling even harder (take that).

“Oh?” He tips his head back a little. This man moves smoothly; he’s older than I thought, his hair gray on the sides of his face, but his eyes are sharp, and his hands are steady. “What is it you’re looking for, stranger?”

“A man,” I say. “A very specific man. I know he's here.”

“Well, I might could help you out there, seein’ as I’m the sheriff of this town, and I know just about everybody,” he says, taking his damn time to say it, too, and pauses to spit some brown, nasty poison on the side of the road.

Chew, says the voice. Tobacco.

Ew! “Kind of a private guy. Travels. Big into nature, plants and animals, that sort of thing,” I say, drawling even slower. “Goes by the name… of Arthur Lester.”

The voice hisses in my head. That’s new.

The sheriff goes real still. That’s bad.

I keep myself real still, too. If he tries to shoot me, he won’t be too happy how it goes.

“You sure about that?” said this sheriff, low.

I wish you’d waited for me to come to you instead, says the voice.

Yeah, no. “I’m sure.”

“How’d you even…” The sheriff stops and shakes his head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you where you can find him, friend: in Jack’s Bar.” He points down the way toward a saloon. Faint honkey-tonk music filters past the batwing doors, out of tune and atrocious, and I just know that place will smell.

Why would an immortal wizard be there? “You sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff doesn’t hesitate. “Anybody asks you questions, you can say Dowd said you’re okay for now. For now, mind. No shootin’, no breakin’ shit, no ruining anything in my town, you hear me?”

Ruin? Ruin?

I could wreak havoc on this place. I could burn it down to ash, to embers and screams, I could roast their bones over the fires of their flesh, I could—

Laughter creeps out of the saloon. Fuck. They’re doing things without me. I never thought of that before. The world continuing, emotions soaring, all without my knowledge or permission.

“That’s quite the look on your face, friend,” says sheriff Dowd, and it’s not nearly as friendly a tone.

“I just want to talk to him,” I say, because it is completely true. “I don’t plan to stay here a minute longer than I have to.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says. “Off you go, now.”

Teeth clenched (what a weird feeling), I stalk toward Jack’s Bar.

#

It stinks, just like I thought it would.

Alcohol, vomit, and sex all linger here, just wisping past me like old smoke, and I briefly hate being in a human body. This weird form reacts to those things, like it wants to throw up, too, or something.

The men in here are sweaty. They wear suspenders, simple shirts, trousers of leather or linen, hats, and boots. The women wear voluminous dresses, cinched tight, that somehow manage to hide everything and reveal everything at once.

Fuck, this place smells like rotten teeth. Fuck.

It’s just for now, I remind myself. For now. Obviously, Arthur Lester has found a way to overcome this, or he wouldn’t be here. Fortunately for me, he’s easy to spot.

He’s so much better than all this fodder. Arthur Lester sits at the bar, leaning forward. His robe drapes his shoulders and falls in wide strips past his legs, just brushing his knee-high boots and held in place with his wide leather belt. There is no hat in sight.

I can tell by looking at him that he does not smell like the humans around him do. For one thing, his nails are perfectly clean. His hair—an indeterminate brassy color—is brushed back, neatly tied at the nape of his neck, and curls a little into the hood of his robe. He grips a mug of dark ale like a life-raft, staring into it and through it, like this is the only thing keeping him tied to this plane. His face and his eyes are red, like maybe he’s been crying. And all around him, warping the air, leeching color from floorboards, blurring the faces of anyone near him, is power.

Oh. Oh, this man. This is what I’m looking for. Right here.

My King, I could provide anything he could with significantly less trouble.

Whatever, voice. Shut it. I have my target now.

I approach him, unblinking. My stupid boots make noise, clunking and clonking. The leather of my vest creaks like some traitorous skin, and my poncho rustles. Even so, Arthur Lester doesn’t look up until I’m practically on top of him.

His eyes are solid blue, no pupil. Holy fuck. He’s blind?

“What?” he says, and something about the way he says it—the emphasized air in the wh, the crispness of the t—tells me that he speaks with an accent different from what I’ve so far heard. Fascinating.

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done.

Oh, for heaven’s sake! says the voice. Then the world explodes in fire and screaming, and the voice in my head is calling me names he absolutely should not.

[chapter two] [masterpost]