Archive of Our Own

Vile worms.  You are beneath contempt, yet consider yourselves Our equals.  Laughable.

If I tell you that 2+2=5, then it's true.  It's not true by any objective reason that you could possibly understand — it is true by the simple fact that I said it.  This is beyond your comprehension and that's what sets Us apart from you.  Facts are what you make them; it's all relative.  Did We lose our job?  That's never Our fault: somebody at work simply hates Us for no reason whatsoever!  You could be one of Us if only you understood that — it's not that you'd be permitted to join us, but that you would be One of Us by the mere fact of your understanding that.  It's not something that you can learn or fake.  We'd know.

 

You contemptible things sometimes say that rules are made to be broken, as if that makes you a force to be reckoned with.  What would you know of it?  Nothing!  Fools.  Rules are made by Those Who make them — they're not for Them to follow as you sheep, nor even for you to follow “or else,” but simply a pretext to toy with you; it makes no difference whether you follow them, since We'll simply destroy you at a whim when it suits Our pleasure.  Your Social Justice Warriors are almost amusing in that regard, betraying everything that they claim to stand for, while others grovel to them in the name of goodness and fairness and open-mindedness as your S.J.W.s call out and shout down any voice that isn't their own and erase the very diversity that they claim to stand for by fascistically enforcing a bland and idiotically self-contradictory standard of everyone-represented-everywhere-at-all-times.  You claim to celebrate culture and diversity, never seeing that you merely encourage the racism and sexism that you so hate with every act of celebrating your “uniqueness” — but please do go on... any divisiveness is always grist for the mill.

Do you honestly think that these rules somehow apply to Us?  A few tears, a strident speech, the right word or two, and We have you eating out of Our hands.  We do as We please, and if somehow it becomes too public to be swept away by smoke and mirrors or a false flag crisis, then We'll sit in court and smile as We pay for your new wardrobe.  If somehow the verdict is against Us, We don't go to “jail” or get “executed” — some suitably programmed body double does that while We transfer to more amenable surrounds on vacation.

Of course, sometimes the judge is one of Us.  You'd think that this would pose a problem, having been so careless as to have been “caught,” but it's a sure win then — certainly They could take such an opportunity to destroy Us utterly, but it just wouldn't be... cricket... now would it?  It's not from respect that We do this.  “Respect” is for you to believe in.  No, it's simply that there's no relish in vanquishing Another of Our Own in such manner.  It lacks finesse, there's no beauty, no joie de vivre, no true appreciation of Our glorious and artistic victory to be had by Any that way.

 

Don't misunderstand Me, now.  We'll certainly champion causes loudly and proudly, if doing so serves to better show Our glory to the world.  Just don't expect anything further than lip service.  What else is there to supporting a cause?  You buy into the idea of actually wasting your time and money in volunteering to “change” things, while We laugh at your efforts.

Likewise, We fully expect you to show interest in Us — demand it as Our right, in fact — but don't you dare question anything that we say or do, much less criticize it.  To do that is to challenge everything about Us, and We'll see to it that things don't go well for you for that.  We'll make grandiose promises, see to it that you live some idiotic little fantasy of “Our future together” in your head, expecting some dream that We'll never even remember as We go about Our business and enjoy Ourselves at your expense.  Why should We bother to make good on those?  They were just Our little jokes.  You're the misguided fools who think that words mean anything.  We might sometimes keep a “promise,” if it happens by chance, or suits Our whim to indulge Ourselves, or has some use in watching you chase The Little Red Dot, but you never seem to realize that it's still all just one of Our games.

Oh, you'll occasionally whine about it, so in rare instances We'll offer “apology” in order to shut you up, but it's as utterly devoid of meaning as selecting such an option in a video game: you are only so much dust, inconsequential to Our grand scheme, and “apologies” will at least serve make you stop your wearisome and irksome noises for a little while.

The most sickening, repulsive part of it all is that you never take off your masks.  You always run around acting so morally superior — as if you actually believed the garbage that you spew.  Do you really believe that We can't see you for what you are?  That We don't know that you're just as empty as We?  That We aren't fully aware of your simply pretending to be wholesome?  We would like nothing more than to rip that mask away from you and expose you for the frauds that you are.  You're NOT better than Us, but you push it into our faces all of the time and FORCE us to feel as if We're not GOOD enough, as if We're the bad guys for not giving a shit about your causes and your pain!  You'd do the same things as We do, if you thought you could get away with it.  You're NOT GOOD, you're NO BETTER than We are!  You just never stop pretending.  As if you've fallen into your own fantasies of being good, nice “people.”

 

I swear to your god, if We had a club the way you people seem so fond of having, We'd sit around the parlor drinking brandy Alexanders and swapping tales of duping and manipulating you lower lifeforms.  We don't, of course, since We know Our Own superiority full well, and have no pathetic need for Others' approval.

Our plumage is important, if We are to show all others just how wonderful We are.  Why do you think We demand the absolute best of everything — beyond the simple facts that We deserve the very best and We are obviously worth such?  We pay top dollar because We can.  What good is a spouse if they aren't worth at least five cows?  Nothing — and so We will insist upon paying at least five cows because We would clearly never have any interest in one that was worth any less.  What We buy, and those around Us, are all a reflection of Our glory.

Of course, it isn't always about some acquisition for Ourselves, but instead a question of keeping everything from anyone else.  It's not about resource value itself, or how We might use it, nor about leverage of synergy: it's all purely an exercise of denying others anything.

We are alive, unlike you, and even you maggots can sometimes see the intensity in Our eyes, even though you typically mistake it for enthusiasm or “love.”  You respond to it, it draws you to Us and draws you in.  You need Us in order for you to “feel” as if you're alive.  You constrain yourselves with “laws” and “social propriety,” while We see to it that the joy ride never ends.  You pick up on the vibe of the moment, never realizing that you're just part of the ride for Us.

Why do you cry when We discard you?  Clearly you're evil — you must be, in order to have dissatisfied Us so greatly.  Do you think that We “feel” bad?  We know that that's simply a word that your kind pretends actually means something!  But of course, We do come back — for sex, for your roof and food, for you to pay Us for the privilege of Our presence in your sniveling lives.  And you will take Us back, of course... or We will ensure that your lives are made miserable, telling everyone about all of the horrible things that you evil assholes have done to Us.  And they'll believe Us, of course, since We are good and honest People.  If you repeat your ridiculous demands for “common decency and respect” and denials of the abuse and scorn that you've no doubt heaped upon Us, all will bow to Our truth — because after all: where there's smoke, there must be fire, and We'll make sure that there's smoke for everyone to see, and blame you for the fire one way or another.  We will destroy you; you will survive, but broken; some of you will learn to “see” Us, but you'll never be certain — and you'll never know that We won't return.  We can easily “see” you, the vapid movements between you, your open and defenseless cluelessness like sheep serving themselves up for Our delectation.  It sits there on your faces, as if great neon signs pointed Our way to an all-you-can-eat freebie.

As for discarding you, We will ruin you during that phase, of course.  We have to, in order to ensure that nobody else will ever get to play with Our toy, and to ensure that you're never happy again without Us.

Have you ever heard the song “You're so vain?”  Tripe.  Of course the song is about One of Us!  What else could it be about?  Besides, the girl is clearly delusional and desperately craves Their return.

Or how about the song “Bohemian rhapsody?”  I'm sure that whomever The Singer killed had it coming to them.  It's just like poor old Bill Sikes¹: that nancy made Him kill her — what other options had she left Him?  How do you think that made poor Bill feel, to see someone die like that, much less forcing Him to run with that rabble making His life difficult.  Sure, it was probably a wonderful relief for Him to finally be rid of her, and to have the pleasure of being the instrument of putting her out of His misery, but He did so while knowing that He still had uses for her that she'd now stolen from Him.  And even if He had gotten away from them, He'd then still have had to promote one of His secondary sources!  Do you have any idea of how much of His precious time and effort He must have had to invest into grooming that girl, and now all for nothing?  Did she bother thinking of that even once?  Callous slattern!

It's the same with any natural disaster or personal emergency: it's all about distraction and attention.  You insist upon obstinate insubordination, so of course We must deal with your stupid or malicious actions against Us.  For example, when We have sex, do you have any idea of how much of a turn-off it is for Us when you claim to be “sick” and then insist upon vomiting?  It's repulsive!  It's supposed to be a sex scene, not a drama scene — and it's supposed to be about Us.  Instead, you're all about yourselves when We're playing doctor, and then you choose to force Us into playing hospital!  If you really loved Us, then you wouldn't even want to do that.

 

We pass ordinances at times, but not because We care what you do or what becomes of you.  It's all simply a way to make you dance — not that your pathetic dancing is amusing in the least, only that you do so at Our behest — or to discomfit Our brethren's pawns.

You are nothing but empty shadows, a backdrop for Our games and Our scripts.  You are indeed loathsome beyond measure, but still slightly more amusing than boredom is.  I would thank your gods that I'm not one of you detestable creatures, were I so inclined as to waste My time thus.  For you to say “no” to Us is such unmitigated gall, such inconceivable obstreperousness on your part that it will indeed earn Our undying ire — it doesn't stop with Our righteous indignation of the moment, oh no; that's the barest tip of the iceberg.  Where once We no doubt planned on general principle to destroy you in every way possible, it now becomes Our greatest pleasure to contrive the most exquisite torments for your personal elucidation, as you must be taught.

Food animals might have thoughts of freedom, but what would they know?  Hah!  You're as ridiculous as some electronic program's “thoughts” of self determination.

You mere humans are all nothing more than puppets with aspirations far above your stations, who simply refuse to play the parts that We have scripted for you.

If We could feel humiliation, then I have to say that it would be solely from acknowledging that We're related to you.  Does one resent a paramecium, though?  A flu virus?  No.  Outrage at symptoms perhaps, but the cause is so far beneath Our awareness as to be utterly trivial.

There is one thing that We feel in dealing with you though.  When you cease to respond — you call it “ GRAY ROCK” — I must admit that that's most perplexing.  Your faces don't give us the emotional indicators to yield Us your secrets, your words are empty of pain or fear or anger...  I shouldn't tell you that, but you monsters will never read this to know that, and wouldn't understand the implications of its power against Us if it slapped you in the face (as you deserve to be).  Besides, even if one of you tried that and it worked, We'd just move along to another source; you're cheap and easy to find and manipulate.  There are plenty of fish in the sea.  Not that We'd need to go looking, since We always have a few on the side for fun.  That... and the fact that We are an addiction for you — you can try “ NO CONTACT” all you want, but we know that you'll always come back to Us, begging for Our forgiveness, seeking to make up in any way that you can.  We might contact you a dozen ways first, since it's faster and more fun than waiting, but you'll be back, either way.

 

Size doesn't matter.  We all have Our little group of docile sheep, cheering Us on to ever-greater accomplishments.  A primary source to toy with in full measure; a few secondary sources for each one of them to provide Us the choicest meals, the best sex, the nicest house, all in accordance with Our plans and requirements to the best of their respective sycophantic, deluded ability — as if We'd ever even want to stay with them; some loyal lackeys to collect information, dispense Our Truths to destroy you.  

We find Our needs met differently: Some will want a tight leash on Their small group of minions in order to ensure the greatest direct returns on Their efforts, Others prefer whole corporations or nations to do Their bidding for a large scale return with the greatest ease.  One size doesn't fit All, it's only the fact that We feed Our need that matters.

In each case, We will play to generalities and dazzle you with words in order to ensure that you always see Us in the best light, with plenty of juicy details and even holes in Our stories to distract you from your “grievance.”  And you will jump on these as if having found a way to show Us that you've spotted some “flaw.”  You hold tight to these as if they'll provide you some comfort in “winning,” even while We revel in the drama that you dance to.  We ret-con reality itself with Our words, forcing you to play along and improvise your role and dialogue as We undermine your perceptions in small at first, then greater sweeps as you begin to question your own sanity, seeing that only you see anything wrong with Our words and deeds, that everyone else sees only Our magnificence.

You're too stupid to see Our chameleon ways, too weak to fight Our power, too meek to withstand Our finesse.

 

We almost never destroy One Another — it's ever so much more fun to manipulate Each Other's pathetic pawns into destroying each other as We gloat, and even that is often more costly than is worth the effort — but those few times that We do are simply because Someone overstepped Their bounds.  They should have known better in the first place.  Their destruction is Their Own fault, then.  They really should have been better prepared, you know.

Well, enough for now.  I took My Rival's favorite little choir boy today, and now it's time for a little more fun.  I'll write some more in a little while, after contacting My Rival for some quality time...