Pros Of Growing Out My Hair: I Genuinely Like How My Hair Looks Now Compared To To The Absolute Boringnes

Loredumping on 40k to my mom while we're in the car.

I probably blocked most of the people this is relevant to, but a transphobe cannot be an ally to GNC people.

An ally is an ally to people who might be. They do not withold support until a peer-reviewed study has proven that they are, and they do not create an environment that prevents someone from discovering they are not.

Being GNC is not a pipeline to being trans. Nevertheless, there are quite a few trans people who start of GNC, before discovering it's not just how they want to present. An ally lets someone discover which one they are on their own terms. They do not say "you are trans, you're just in denial". They do not say "you aren't trans, that's mental illness".

If there's one thing that everyone who wants to be like a femboy needs to hear, it's "Do it".

scrolling through your reddit posts makes me wanna be like those femboys so fuckin bad your art is just always great! be it funny, cute or hot. keep it up!

buy some stockings and get started

Scythes of the Emperor fight for Democracy?

Astartes II

You see, AO3 has this wonderful thing where, if you scroll down, below the list of tags to include, you can set a list of tags to exclude.

"i'm tired of seeing-" use your filters.

"but there was an icky ship-!" use your filters.

"i don't like that tag-" use your filters.

don't like what you're seeing? use. your. filters.

When I first saw this I thought it was about Orkz.

I completely support the pushing of boys against walls

I love how, in any sane setting, the T'au would be The Villains, capital T capital V, but in 40k they're about the closest the setting gets to "good guys". They're an expansionist colonial empire that tries to force their ideology on everyone they meet and exterminates the people they deem incompatible with it, and somehow, because 40k is just that fucked up, they are one of the more reasonable factions in the galaxy.

He is one of many characters that gets reduced to a joke in meme lore.

Hell, I'm not even sure if this one is entirely TTS's fault, too. He's pretty menacing there if you think about it for a nonzero amount of time.

Lucius is no girlfail at all

I have reposted the girlfail-post, because it's fun and I got a laugh out of it, but my more earnest opinion is: Lucius is incredibly successful.

Some of his accomplishments without any claim to completeness:

Beating the Mournival in consecutive duels (Loken cheated by Emperor's Children-standards, so fuck him)

He's made Captain in a perfectionist Legion of Aristocrats, despite hailing from gladiatorial pits.

He made Palatine Blade - elite of the elite

He organized a coup against Fulgrim, because he wanted the demon out and survived (by staying mostly out of it, but that shows that he has a brain indeed)

He impressed Slaanesh enough to become his Champion.

He impressed Fulgrim enough the Primarch strongarmed Fabius into reviving Lucius.

He impressed Ahriman enough the Chief Librarian kept him as bodyguard/killer (and didn't betray him - a rare occurance with Ahriman).

He isn't the most social guy, yet he became leader of a rather successful warband.

He killed a Bloodthirster (with the help of his Raptors, but still!)

40k Fulgrim uses him as his personal hitman.

He had fun fighting and killing in Commorragh (he got asked to leave).

And that's just from the top of my head. Lucius is one of the most successful, ruthless Chaos Marines still in existence.

Ironic that this would please the Emperor more than worshiping him would.

My character, Sister Catherine, of the order of the Valorous Heart. Or simply Cate to those who know her.

She needs an origin story.

A crisis of faith. She prays for guidance to Him on Earth. Surely he would not abandon one of His faithful in their hour of need?

She knelt in the chapel of the blessed Emperor. It was a place of calm and contemplation. Sisters came here to pray. But she was here now out of desperation. She needed Him to answer her, now more than at any time in her life.

"Holy Emperor, hear my prayer. I need your guidance. I have doubt. This has plagued me for months, years even. Please, help me. Guide me. Show me the path forward."

Her head was bowed, her hands clasped tightly together, praying, and hoping for a miracle. Something to relieve her of the doubt and the anguish she felt because of it. But she was only met with the silence of the empty chapel.

"You're not going to answer me, are you?" She said out loud.

She opened her tear stained eyes and looked up at the altar.

"You're not here, are you? You're on Terra, sitting on your golden throne."

She stared at the stained glass depiction of the Emperor. Magnificent in his golden armour, surrounded by the faithful, a halo of light above his head.

"You are not a god."

She half expected to be struck down there and then. Some bolt of unimaginable power incinerating her on the spot.

"The books my family died for, they were right. You are not a god. Written in your own hand, that is what my grandmother said. The inquisition killed them, burnt at the stake as heretics.."

She was only a child, but she remembered the fires. Her mother and grandmother were consumed by the flames. The inquisitor forced her to watch. A lesson, he had said.

"It is a lie. I have lived this lie my whole life. In the schola progenium, in my order. I have prayed to you, sang praises in your name. And I have killed, all in your name. How much blood must stain my hands because of you."

She cleansed her hands each day as instructed by scripture. Clean, pristine even. If she could see the blood, she imagined it would be of the deepest, darkest, red.

"And I am damned. For what can I do? If I confess my lack of faith, they will force me to be repentia, beating myself bloody until I see the light once again. Or worse. Locked in a machine and driven insane."

She had seen the penitent engines in battle. Wild, savage things. Their pilots lost to madness.

"If I run, the inquisition will hunt me. They will likely send my own sisters after me. There is no mercy for the heretic. Isn't that what you teach?"

She knew the tortures an inquisitor could inflict first hand. Both physical and mental. She would not let that be her fate.

"Must I die for you then? Is that my only choice? Or turn to the foulness of the warp. Must that be my salvation? What vile corruption would I have to endure."

She thought about the chaos tainted cultists she had fought in the past. Barely recognisable as even human anymore. Chanting dirges to their dark gods.

"No. I would rather turn my bolt gun on myself. If you are not a god, then neither are they. The creatures of the warp will not have me. I deny them. As I deny you."

The blasphemy she spoke. She would have killed someone outright if they had spoken like this to her. Now she speaks it herself. In his own chapel, no less.

"We go to war soon. Another crusade in your name. Do you know why? Do you even care?"

In the battles ahead, how many were going to die? How many deaths would she be responsible for? All for a lie. Maybe being condemned to a penitent engine would be a blessing. They at least did not struggle with faith.

"I still have my sisters. I depend on them, as they depend on me. They will be my faith from now on, my shield. I will fight for them."

She stood. She would have to lie to her sisters and convince them her faith is strong and beyond question. What choice did she have?

The Emperor is not a god.

A simple statement, yet so powerful it could condemn an entire world. What could it do to one sister of battle?