reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing

(source)

Bonus:

The Mandalorian and Ghost of Tsushima

Which is really just Lone Wolf and Cub, so, yeah

Good Eats and Yakuza: Like a Dragon and I am totally here for it.

Man v. Food Animal crossing?

Truth Seekers Solitaire… that’s just sad.

Animal Crossing: Supernatural. 

Oh dear. 

Taskmaster: Animal Crossing

It’s a beautiful day in Regency England, and you are a horrible goose.

The Good Place: New Vegas

WandaVision: Stardew Valley?!?! I always knew Abigail was up to something

WandaVision + Witcher

Ancient aliens fallout76

Newcomers Pt2

Admiral Polts Personal journal.

It’s been about a week since the humans arrived and they now make up one third of our cerw, they have settled in well, almost too well as they have made this fleet and it’s ships their own. I have been doing research on them and although the reports are conflicting and sketchy they do all say that humans will change their environment to make it more suitable to them. Which is why the unused cargo hold is now something called a “puppy pen” and they are holding nightly events where they gather and play games about exploring a dungeon. They are also oddly easy to get along with, they take almost no offence when insults are thrown at them and if anything speak worse to one another. Their commander Captain Clerk assures me this is all natural that humans bring their home with them but will try to keep from taking over too much of the fleet.

So far the only race that has any problem with them are the Benemar, but the Humans have not risen to any challenge by them, not sure how long that will last.

On a side note I have orderd the fleet not to eat or drink the humans food, it.s just plain poisonous and how they manage to digest it is beyond me!!.

A number of humans were in the canteen eating a delicacy called “curry” a number of the other alien crew had tried some and apparently the sauce did not agree with them. It burned through one of their stomachs, luckily he survived. The third day of the human week was considered curry day and was sacred to them, along with “tacos” on the second day. Their meal was interrupted by sergeant Cathy calling for everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me everyone” the talking stopped and they looked over at her, she was clearly distressed.

“Has anyone seen Troy?”

“Your beagle?” asked another Human.

“Yeah, he isn’t in the puppy pen”

“Maybe someone took him for a walk?”

“I thought of that but he hasn’t been signed out”

All the Humans looked at each other and a silent agreement passed between them all as they all put down their food and left the canteen to go find Troy leaving a number of the non human crew alone.

“What’s a beagle?” Kio asked his mate.

After only one hour every Human on the ship was looking for him, they checked every vent, every cannon and every inch of the ship and were soon resorting to handing out picture of Troy asking if anyone had seen him. To the non Humans this behaviour was odd, this animal was not part of the crew or their squad yet every one of the Humans was distressed about it being missing.

Cathy found a number Benemar wrestling in the gym and approached them.

“Excuse me”

“Huh? A Human, what are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for my dog Troy, here’s a picture of him please let me know if you see him”

The Benemar clan leader took the picture and a smile crawled across his face, he handed it to the others who all mimicked his expression.

“We have seen this thing little Human”

“You have!!! Where?” she asked eagerly.

“Well you might have trouble finding him now” he laughed

“What?”

“We wanted to try Human food, this animal barley had any meat on him I don’t know why you keep them”

Cathy looked up at them her face blank, no emotion and her voice flat.

“You…ate him?”

“Yeah, I mean this creature makes a pitiful meal and cried the moment we picked it up, stupid animal”

“You…ate Troy?”

“You deaf yes, if you are looking for us to be sorry for eating your food, tough we are Benemar and our laws say only the strong eat”

“You…you….”

Cathy was shaking and her hands curling into fists, her face went from calm to rage in a single terrifying moment. “YOU ATE MY DOG!!!”

She lunged at him and proceeded to tear him apart.

Admiral Polt and Capitan Clerk sat opposite each other in Polt’s office, the silence between them was vast as Clerk had said something that Polt did not expect.

“Can you say that again please for the record” Polt asked.

“I believe Cathy’s reaction was justified” Clerk said with no uncertainty in his voice.

“She killed the Benemar clan leader, his chief is demanding justice”

“If he wants to try and get it he is free to, but in my eyes and my superiors she has done no wrong as under our law dogs are given the same basic rights as us”

“But it’s just as dog?”

“IT’S NOT JUST A—-” Clerk said slamming his hand down on the table but quickly calmed himself “It’s not just a dog, it is “A” dog”

Polt nearly fled the room when Clerk slammed his hand, after seeing what remained of the Benemar he had no desire to anger another Human.

“I loved that dog, we all did and love all the dogs we brought with us, for someone to…eat one is…”

“It’s okay I understand, I shall speak the chief”

“Thankyou” Clerk said leaving and Polt called the chief to his office.

“What do yo mean you are taking no action?” the chief screamed.

“By their laws sergeant Cathy has done no wrong and was well within her rights”

“She killed one of my clan leaders!”

“Rather impressive for a Human half his size don’t you think? You saw the body, do you really want to take this further? If so I’m sure Captain Clerk would be happy for you to”

“What was it about that animal that they hold so dear?”

“I’m, glad you asked” Polt said pulling out a small folder “i have been reading up on Humans for a few weeks now and there is an interesting bit about dogs I believe will help put this in perspective. They have co-existed and co-evolved for over 30.000 years. The bond between a Human and a Dog is so strong that no words need pass between them for each to know what the other wants. They have fought battles together and have made homes together and Humans care for their dogs as if they were their own children and dogs protect and serve the humans as they are a loving parent. No other race in the galaxy has a companion quite like the Humans have dogs, to belittle or harm their companions in any way will bring their full wrath down upon you”

Polt closed the book and looked at the Benemar chief who had said nothing, he left without saying another word to quickly tell his own warriors to leave these dogs alone.

Polt breathed, another crisis averted and he could move onto more pressing matters, like this Sergeant Stabby that was visiting next month and has all the Humans excited, he worried as to why.

pretty shitty how baseline human activities like singing, dancing and making art got turned into skills  instead of being seen as behaviors

so now it’s like ‘the point of doing them is to get good at them’ and not ‘this is a thing humans do, the way birds sing and bees make hives’.

I know I’ve posted this before, but it bears repeating.

This is a thing humans do; you don’t have to be good at it to enjoy it.

“Give and Get”

Give a human a wasteland;

They’ll learn to survive.

Give a human some time;

They will learn to thrive.

Give a human a rock;

They will make a smooth stone.

Give a human an orphan,

They will call it their own.

Give a human a wolf,

They’ll come back with a dog.

Give a human an ax,

They’ll transform a dead log.

Give a human a flame,

They’ll cook a good dinner.

Give a human some love,

And you’ll both be a winner.

Give a human a slap

They’ll be back with a blade

Give a human a wall

They’ll bring you a raid.

Give a human a sneer

They’ll give back a smirk.

Give a human some fear

They’ll give you the works.

Give a human an hour,

They’ll soon have a plan.

Give a human a day,

Their idea is at hand.

Give a human a curse,

They will learn of your spell.

Give a human a reason,

They’ll send you to hell.

You’re a superhero, and you have been having many battles with this one slippery villain who always eludes your grasp. One day, while you were out, you receive an alert that someone broke into your house. Upon returning, your weapon already in your hand, you are stunned to find said villain holding your pet cat, curled up in a ball on your carpet, and crying.

This one is dedicated to Elliot Page, even though he’ll never see it. Congrats, dude.

Tank was getting real tired of Nemea. Real tired. 

There were worse villains - Claw sprang to mind, usually after bad dreams of shadows and screams. Obscurata, the star of those bad dreams, was probably worse in her own way, even if she’d decided to make a hobby of gently guiding baby heroes. But Nemea was just plain driving him nuts. 

Nemea had started out as a hench for Flashcard over in Nueva Roma, where she was Guarde’s problem. But she’d broken from Flashcard over one of his nastier mind games, and moved cities and become Tank’s problem. She was mid-level… robbing banks and occasionally taking hostages, but not the bomb-the-city-or-otherwise-slaughter-thousands type. 

The trouble was, Nemea was very fast, and Tank wasn’t. Oh, he was faster than any normal human, super strength took care of that, but Nemea was super-fast. Very occasionally he’d corner her long enough to get a couple of hits in, but never for long. And being mostly invulnerable, Nemea’s claws didn’t do more than annoy him. He wasn’t sure if she found it as frustrating as he did, but there really wasn’t much either of them could do to the other one, when you got right down to it, not unless they wanted to start tearing off limbs or gouging out eyeballs, which was a level of mayhem Tank didn’t care for and Nemea tended to avoid. So whenever they encountered each other it was mostly a lot of yelling, and Tank trying to get the stolen goods back or the hostages out. 

This morning there’d been another round of time-wasting. Nemea had robbed a jewellery store, Tank had showed up, there’d been yelling, there’d been a lot of pointless flailing that didn’t catch her or cut him, and then… 

He didn’t know why he’d done it. Maybe it’d been the unusually worked up sound to Nemea’s voice, or the higher-than-normal levels of property damage, but he’d stopped trying to grab her for a moment and asked a genuine question. “Dude. Are you… you know… okay?” 

Keep reading

why is there no electricity after the apocalypse?

something people writing post-apocalyptic fiction always seem to forget is how extremely easy basic 20th century technology is to achieve if you have a high school education (or the equivalent books from an abandoned library), a few tools (of the type that take 20 years to rust away even if left out in the elements), and the kind of metal scrap you can strip out of a trashed building.

if you want an 18th century tech level, you really need to somehow explain the total failure of humanity as a whole to rebuild their basic tech infrastructure in the decade after your apocalypse event.

i am not a scientist or an engineer, i’m just a house husband with about the level of tech know-how it takes to troubleshoot a lawn mower engine, but i could set up a series of wind turbines and storage batteries for a survivor compound with a few weeks of trial and error out of the stuff my neighbors could loot from the wreckage of the menards out on highway 3. hell, chances are the menards has a couple roof turbines in stock right now. or you could retrofit some from ceiling fans; electric motors and electric generators are the same thing, basically.

radio is garage-tinkering level tech too. so are electric/mechanical medical devices like ventilators and blood pressure cuffs. internal combustion’s trickiest engineering challenge is maintaining your seals without a good source of replacement parts, so after a few years you’re going to be experimenting with o-rings cut out of hot water bottles, but fuel is nbd. you can use alcohol. you can make bio diesel in your back yard. you can use left-over cooking oil, ffs.

what i’m saying is, we really have to stop doing the thing where after the meteor/zombies/alien invasion/whatever everyone is suddenly doing ‘little house on the prairie’ cosplay. unless every bit of metal or every bit of knowlege is somehow erased, folks are going to get set back to 1950 at the most. and you need to account somehow for stopping them from rebuilding the modern world, because that’s going to be a lot of people’s main life goal from the moment the apocalypse lets them have a minute to breathe.

nobody who remembers flush toilets will ever be content with living the medieval life, is what i’m saying. let’s stop writing the No Tech World scenario.

the thing *I* get mad about is no one goes and fixes up any of the hundreds of thousands of airplanes lying around, or even puts together any new ones. like the big fucking stumbling block for all those thousands of years for humans seemed to just be no one managed to combine the idea for a propeller with an engine that would spin it fast enough. but now the genie is thoroughly out of the bottle: drawings of planes have the propeller on it. we will remember that the secret to airplanes is smallish airfoil wings and a very very fast propellor (or three) for a thousand years, until all the books and drawings and planes themselves have decayed away. 

like yeah you couldn’t make commercial jetliners in your garage, but if you camped out in an old airfield, you could probably bang together some kind of working franken-cessna. 

I have an uncle who got bored and built a flyable franken-cessna in his garage a few years ago based upon his knowledge as an automotive worker so you really don’t need to be a specialized aeronautics expert to build a plane. You just gotta be able to stop your dog’s weird anti-aircraft vendetta long enough to put it together.

but yeah, the electricity thing bugs me so much. Solar panels are everywhere these days. It isn’t super hard to set up small wind turbines. But! the thing that bugs me the most is the assumption that the whole power grid of a continent would just fall apart all at once and never get back up and running (assuming your apocalypse doesn’t explicitly state why that happened).

like look at the 2003 Northeast Blackout in North America. Cascading failures sent about 250 power plants offline. But even in areas hit by the blackout there were pockets that were fine. Either they had local power generation or they caught on to what was happening and separated from the grid before it hit them. Or they got back up and running the same night. And it didn’t expand beyond the northeast area because the whole of north america isn’t connected to each other. You could have something hit the east coast and the west coast but Quebec and Texas would be there happily flipping everyone off as they basked in their separate grids.

And! different types of power generation are going to have different levels of protection. A solar farm probably has a fence that will keep out the local hooligans. A wind farm is just fuck off tall and leaves it to sheer height to stop people from fucking with it. Hydroelectric dams depends on how big it is, could be dedicated armed security, could be the two dudes on duty to run the turbine that day who’re just annoyed they’re missing lunch. Nuclear has an entire department who’s sole purpose is to fuck you up and they are very bored and would like to have a reason to use the armoured truck. So yeah, you can’t just walk into most of these places with the intent to “destroy the grid” or if you can walk into them people are going to be like, why is that random dude out there literally tilting at windmills maybe someone should stop him.

Also, I am always disappointed when north american authors forget that ARES (amateur radio emergency services) exists. It’s a bunch of local volunteers who are super into radio but also they will drop everything and head into disaster zones to run emergency communications. Your cell phone might not work, your internet might never come back on, but buddy down the road has access to a  radio and a can do attitude.

some fantastic additions here!

and to everyone who was like “you can’t use your devices directly off a turbine” oh my god i knooooow, did you think my post was a tutorial? you can do the farming part of the postapocalypse. please leave electricity to people who know there are reference materials.

Cute

Humans were the newest species in the Alliance. They were small, fragile, and poisonous to practically every life form. They had strange oils on their skin, in fact, most mammalians (the…family[?] of species that the Humans were) on their planet had oils too. Humans also had the weirdest motives for their research. Their research into weapons and medicine were average, but their research into technology, specifically for entertainment purposes, seemed….wasteful. As in, excessive. That wasn’t even mentioning the amount of apparently habitable land taken up by research endeavors. Humans were obsessed with their history, classifying irrelevant species into many different categories and digging up bones to recreate skeletons of the extinct ones, and endlessly searching for evidence of “advanced” extinct civilizations.

They were quickly dubbed a “research race”. The Humans would be useful for their ability to seek out knowledge, but little more. The only weapons in their arsenal worth taking were the suicide bombs they called “Nuclear Weapons” and their medicine was useless for any race but their own. They were fragile, and tiny. Their strength only activating when under extreme stress, and it was immoral for any race to force a human into that state, especially considering any attempt to use the strength gain in battle would likely backfire due to the human’s ability for “spite”. They were a must-have for any exploration crew, but otherwise belonged in labs and not on the battlefield. The only battlefield capability aside from stress induced strength, was their adaptability and durability. Any smart Humans would’ve stayed around the habitable zones in between the poles and the equator of their planet, and yet the species managed to persevere, using their clever nature to survive in a wide variety of conditions and climates that no other race managed. It wasn’t even out of necessity, they did it for a love of exploration.

The human’s curiosity, cleverness, optimism, and odd weather-specific durability made them perfect for research. And yet some still decided to help on the battlefield. The battlefield medics were acceptable, but the tiny warriors holding what may as well be toy rifles were only accepted out of exasperated fondness and because they raised morale.

The Humans, with their small builds, wide expanse of expressions, and general kind-heartedness and playful recklessness were considered the best companions for any race; however, the Humans with anger-management issues in particular were more suited as companions for the Tloq, who were sturdy enough to take hits, one of the few races not affected by the oils on the humans' skin, and playful enough to enjoy an angry human’s company, even sometimes managing to calm one to a reasonable state. Humans were essentially pets, or children, but no one mentioned it, knowing the Humans would be upset at the analogy.

Humans took a liking to the Klo'rake specifically, likening them to large “cats”. Initially, the Alliance was confused, but upon doing further research, courtesy of the Linus (a winged species with a preference for chemistry), the hexapedal and fuzzy Klo'rake’s shared a scary likeness with the extremely tiny Earth species; said species were highly amused in their own quiet manner. The fact that Klo'rake had six legs and large horns was dutifully ignored in favor of the hilariousness that was humans flocking to them because they were fuzzy.

Humans were great researchers, the best even, their mindset perfect for the line of work, but the Alliance respected the human race’s needs for variety, and their want to run their own planet, and let them choose their own professions. At least two human researchers were always on a crew, sometimes joined by a human with a different specialty, such as engineers or pilots. Biologists and archaeologists were a favorite; the Humans’ need to classify different life forms was deemed “cute”.

Then, Earth was invaded by the Olomk. A violent species known for minor skirmishes with members of the Alliance. The Alliance was enraged, and the Humans were heartbroken. Their home planet was burning, consumed by flames and smog, and it needed their assistance. Every human crewmate returned to Earth, salvaging what they could of the planet. It’s axis had been tilted, the sea level had shrunk by many meters, and they mourned the loss of several species. The Klo'rake, Linus, and Tloq quickly came to their aid, not understanding why the humans were crying over the loss of biodiversity, but knowing the heartbreak that was the loss of most of your species.

For many sols the Humans rebuilt, their population once over a hundred billion had dwindled to merely six billion. The scientists took a census of the land, engineers, architects, and construction workers rebuilt according to the new soil. Farmers replanted their crops if possible, while others had to relocate to a different area so their crops would actually grow. Many offspring were handed off to Klo'rake and Linas, orphaned or injured. Medics and doctors did their damnedest to make sure as many people lived as possible, while others did what they could to dispose of the destroyed buildings and to ensure the planet wasn’t polluted by the waste.

Eventually, the planet was up and running once more, but for once, the Humans weren’t just angry: they were furious. Never had the Alliance seen this. Sure, they’d seen angry and annoyed Humans, but this was something different. Fury, mourning, irritation, and more wrapped up in a single undefinable emotion. They were quiet, planning, no one knew what they were doing, and no one dared ask. Many Humans that lived abroad came back to help, including all of the morale soldiers and some underage teenagers, even some children as young as ten that were desperate to help. The Alliance let the Humans mourn, as it was their first invasion, and hopefully their last.

Then, one day, Tlaku, the Olomk’s planet, was under fire. Weapons and ships constructed from a mixture of Klo'rake, Linus, Tloq, Human, and even Rikl designs decimated the planet. Even as violent and weaponized as the Olomk were, they were not prepared. The Humans dropped nuclear bombs, burned ships with plasma lasers; they shot down all resistance, and the few footsoldiers that were needed quickly crushed all the Olomk soldiers with quick fury.

It was quick, bloody, and unexpected from the race the Alliance had started to view as cute, peaceful, and curious. The Humans stopped attacking once surrender was declared, they mourned for the hatchlings they killed, helped with the clean up, and quickly departed for Earth, returning their attention to patching up the wounds still left by the Olomk Invasion. The Linus, for once scared of their lack of knowledge, took a page out of the Human’s book and started researching Human history, because clearly they didn’t know as much as they thought about their dearest researchers. Despite being out of their depth in researching history, the Linus were well accustomed to boring scientific literature, and quickly reported something terrifying.

Humans had a bloody history, filled with war, famine, disease, exploitation, and slavery. They were clearly capable of battle, good at it even. Their tactics astounded the Rikl, who were famous for their military might. The Alliance were disturbed that the beings they found adorable and cute were so capable of hurting others. They were reminded of the small scale spite that Humans displayed when slighted, and shuddered when they realized that the humans could have destroyed them if they really felt like it. 

But when the Human representative entered, flustered at her tardiness, they were reminded of why they had gotten that initial harmless impression. Tiny, fragile, and adorably curious, Humans were great at hiding their dangerous nature.

If I was remaking the Princess Bride I'd have Buttercup hire Vizzini, Inigo and Fezzik herself to help her fake her death and take her away so she could go and seek out the Dread Pirate Roberts and get revenge for Westley's death, and also get out of the marriage to Humperdinck, so she rocks up on the ship in disguise and this time Westley doesn't recognise *her*, but she realises it's Westley and she's just making loads of snide remarks trying to figure out why he's been merrily fucking about on a boat this whole time, meanwhile Westley's having a little bit of a bi moment about Buttercup-in-disguise but because he's loyal as fuck he's not going to do anything about it but they get into a fight and Buttercup is like 'Why the hell did you just fucking leave your girlfriend to fuck around being a pirate you could at least have written a letter' and he's like 'Oh I'm sorry???? What on earth would you know about it, this is none of your concern, I should've killed you when you came on board' and of course during this scene they're also having a very tense sword fight with Inigo making quips from the sidelines like a sports commentator, and Buttercup's like 'WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST KILL ME THEN, FARM BOY???' But then the ship lurches to the side and she gets thrown overboard and Westley is like 'Oh my God I'm so stupid!!!!' So then he has to dive in after and pull her out.

I LOVE THIS??!?

Once she’s back in the boat she and Westley have a heart a heart conversation and it’s very cute (Inigo and Fezzik are throwing rhyming couplets back and forth in the background).

Humperdinck is still trying to start a war, so when he hears his prospective bride is captured! by pirates! he chases them, and captures them all as soon as their boat makes landfall. Westley, Inigo, Fezzik, and Vizzini all go to the dungeons, and Buttercup is confined to the court physician’s rooms to ‘recover her wits’ from her ‘scare with the pirates’ (translation: she’s spitting mad and has a sword now and has to be restrained to keep from Murdering Humperdinck).

The gang in the dungeons are all in separate cells, so they each organize their own jailbreak. Fezzik just. breaks his door, Vizzini confuses his guard into handing him the keys to the door, Inigo has his ‘Father, guide my sword’ moment and finds a secret passageway out, and Westley is just sitting outside his cell waiting for them, both of his guards knocked out. he claims they turned on each other and then he picked his lock.

Meanwhile, Humperdinck releases Buttercup, which was a mistake, because now she gets to beat him up and give the ‘to the pain’ speech. Inigo has his conclusion with the six-fingered-man, meanwhile Westley finds the queen, convinces her that Humperdinck has been warmongering, and she decides to crown her younger child instead. Westley meets up with Buttercup, and together they find Inigo and Fezzik (who has grabbed the horses).

Inigo becomes the next Dread Pirate Roberts and Fezzik goes with him. Humperdinck never recovers from the scandal and gets shoved in a monastery somewhere out of embarrassment. Westley and Buttercup become wandering swords, just Robin Hooding their way through life, settling down to be farmers in their old age.

You're hired

“Well,” said Inigo, shrugging, “I myself am no stranger to murder plots.  I just don’t know that the four of us can fight an entire crew of pirates.”

They were drawing quite close to the Revenge, now.

Vizzini scoffed.  “Obviously not.  They say Roberts is a bloodthirsty pirate, but too honorable for his own good.  Our employer will simply challenge him to a duel.”  He glanced forward, to the front of the boat, where the enigmatic figure who had purchased their services stared intently ahead, and continued in an undertone.  “And, since we’ve been paid in advance, the outcome matters little.”

A lot of people seemed really interested in me actually writing more of this...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123958/chapters/58078732

Reblogging because this is finally finished, after, like, 6 months.

OP you left out the best part

Always reblog wholesome batdad

Someone checking the “baby’s” DNA against a database. “Oh my god. That baby is a clone of Bruce Wayne.”

I love when fantasy worlds have some nonsensical magical force that prevents technology from working.

Like… how does the magic determine where technology begins? I mean, a gun is just a little house for tiny explosions to live… what part of that process is interrupted by magic? Does gunpowder simply not combust in Magictopia?

What about the wheel? Bifocals? Condoms? Skateboards? Bicycles? Vaccines? Pyramids? Does a flint-knapped knife not count as technology?

“Shit.”

“What seems to be the matter?” asked the Elf, in that same insufferably airy tone that would have made it a fortune doing voiceovers for shampoo commercials.

Khalil sighed miserably. “Phone’s dead,” he said, scowling at the shimmering city. “Figures. Of course it lets me take a thousand blurry cat pictures and then konks out on me the moment I find something worth photographing.”

The Elf laughed. Khalil suspected it was meant to be a scornful laugh, but his companion had the emotional inflection of an automated voice messaging system, and it lacked punch.

“Foolish human,” said the Elf. “Your ‘phone’ will not work here. No technology functions past the borders of Faerie.”

If Khalil let his eyes unfocus and used his imagination, the expression it wore could almost pass for smugness. “Now hang on,” he said. “That’s a fucking lie. No way is that true.”

“Foolish human, I cannot tell a l—”

“Oh, shut up. You say no technology works here, but you’re clearly wearing some kind of ritzy elf sword. Are you gonna try to tell me that they grow on trees here? Obviously you’ve got smelting and forges and metallurgy. You’re wearing woven fabric, and you stole a bunch of medicine from that pharmacy in Detroit. We rode my bike over that troll bridge and it didn’t stop working.”

“That’s different,” protested the Elf, a shallow groove between it’s eyebrows betraying profound distress. “That’s not technology.”

“It is, though! ‘Technology’ doesn’t just mean guns and electron—”

There was a hand clamped tight over his mouth, smothering him before he had even registered movement. “Hold your tongue before I cut it out of your head,” hissed the Elf in his ear. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

It released him, and Khalil stumbled back, staring wildly. It had moved terrifyingly quickly. No doubt it could make good on its threat if it cared to—six years of boxing and he still had no hope of defending himself against something that could move like that.

“What magic doesn’t know can’t hurt it,” said the Elf in a low and strangely unsteady voice, sounding for the first time like a living being. “Be careful what ideas you give it. Some things seem right, and that’s what matters.”

The Elf must have grabbed him hard, Khalil realized, tasting the tang of blood where his lip had been torn open on his teeth. He swallowed, and stared at the Elf in horror. “Are you telling me,” he said slowly, “That your entire magical system, the physics of your entire world… is based… on vibes?”

The Elf grimaced and did not meet his eyes.

As the Elf’s screams grew louder and more frantic, Khalil’s mind alternated between two distinct but equally insistent convictions: first, that this was the stupidest plan anyone had ever advised in this world or any other; second, that it was going to work.

The part of him that was a twenty-seven year-old peace activist recoiled in disgust even as the ten year-old pirate fanatic vibrated with excitement. If I live through this, he thought, I’ll have to tell my mom that all those hours glued to the History Channel weren’t wasted, after all.

Very gently, he tipped a little of the powder down the barrel of the gun. He had no way of knowing the appropriate amount to use and simply guessed; after all, if his suspicions were correct, it might not matter much in this world.

He pried the moldering leather bag out from under the skeleton’s arm and reached inside. A few dozen lead balls clinked together under his fingers, along with a little bundle of greasy cloth. With trembling fingers, he tore off a square of fabric and wrapped it around one of the bullets. Like a swaddled baby, he thought grimly, and pushed it down the barrel until it was nestled snugly over the gunpowder.

Almost ready, he thought. He dropped a pinch of powder into the flashpan on the top of the gun, flicked the frizzen back into position, and rose to his feet.

“Step away from the Fabio impersonator,” he said, kicking the rotten door off its hinges. “Or I will shoot you with my gun.”

hey i need like $20 to get my hrt prescription on friday (11/27/20). i have $1.74 to my name & no stable income & my family is surviving off of childcare and foodstamps so my mom cant help. i can offer art or tarot readings for donations above $10 if anyone is interested in stuff like that? ik a lot of people are struggling rn especially with it being the holidays so maybe just reblog if you can’t afford to help. my venmo is @casper-pup and my cashapp is $casperpup

@trans-mom @scifihumanheadcanons @dog-teeth @shareyourdollar (edited bc i forgot my venmo + cashapp)

you can’t deny the existence of rape culture when our judicial system is ran by these gross ass men who justify it 

This makes me want to vomit. I hate everything… especially old, straight, white men. 

PLEASE SAY SIKE

candles are how we keep fires as pets

this is unnecessarily adorable

He finished his book almost an hour ago, yet he didn’t put out the candle flame illuminating his desk.

He didn’t know exactly why, maybe he thought the way the little flame flickered was pleasant, perhaps he enjoyed the way the thin trail of smoke danced above it.

Perhaps he was distracting himself from going back to sleep, the latest nightmare still fresh in his mind. He could almost feel the cold water invading his lungs.

So he distracts himself with the little flame.

“For how long, I wonder, can I keep this flame alight?”

He stayed awake all night, observing the little flame, feeding it small scraps of paper when it flickered too weak, gently patting it down when it consumed it’s candle too fast.

Exhaustion was creeping on him, he could barely keep his eyes open anymore, his common sense telling him he should put the little flame out before he fell asleep on top of it.

He ignored this advise.

Instead, he so carefully moved the little flame from it’s almost completely melted candle to a new, unused one.

Hopefully big enough to last quite a few hours.

Almost fearfully, he collapsed in bed, waiting for the horrible and familiar feeling of the icy waters encasing him on his sleep.

Instead, he dreamt of warmth.

—

Another day went by, then another, then a week, then two.

He learned how long each type of candle lasted, what sort of fuel feed the little flame the best.

It was now a bit of a pet project, to see how long he could make it last.

He remembers fondly how the little flame once encased the entire candle at once, flickering almost playfully.

Or how it hissed almost in annoyance, when he had to flicker it with water dropets to get it to a manageable size again.

He wasn’t sure when the pet project became just a pet.

Perhaps it was when he caught himself thinking up names for the little flame.

Perhaps it was when he decided on Orion.

In the following months not once did he dreamt of all encasing cold nor the impenetrable darkness of the depths.

He dreamt of warmth and light.

—

It was a holiday night, the kind that had most houses empty as entire families flocked together.

He was alone with Orion when the burglars broke in.

They weren’t expecting witnesses, just an easy job.

Though a single terrified man wasn’t too hard of a job.

They bought him down easily, and violently, demanding riches he didn’t have.

Orion gave a fearful flicker with each hit, it shook with each threat.

But when the bored and disappointed burglars took out the weapon, Orion roared.

The candle was ablaze in one second, the desk in two, and the burglars in three.

The little flame, now a massive, enraged inferno, embraced him fully and protectively.

He felt as much heat, as one would fill drinking hot chocolate in a cold winter night, with the company of a fully stocked fireplace and a warm blanket.

Orion’s body grew and grew, soon encasing the entire house, the flames growing so high and wide, and flickering so violently, they almost looked like flapping wings.

Later they will find nothing but an empty, charred plot of land, and blackened trails following the direction of the wind.

He left with Orion that night, never to feel cold again.

—

There’s the common misbelief that dragons hatch from eggs, when in reality, the infant form of a dragon is so frail, so small, that a misplaced breath might be enough to extinguish them.

But if one were to care for them long enough, love them long enough, the dragon will grow big and powerful, and return the favor.

—

@thefringeperson

Because a version without this adorable fic crossed my dash, and I had to go back and find it again to read it again.

This is beautiful!

One for the lads

REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG

Also!! Disabled boys and boys who are pre-hrt/surgeries are all wonderful handsome lads!!

I just read the line “President Donald Trump also indicated that federal squads would likely target cities run by the party that opposes him” in a real-life news article and I’m just thinking about how people really thought Democrats were overreacting in 2016 and that we should “give him a chance”

“Joe Biden and Donald Trump are the same” really? ?? What a galaxy brain take. Because right now the standard is “will address the pandemic and not send unidentified federal agents to kidnap citizens in the street” so, yeah, they’re not the same

Dictators don't let themselves be elected out of power.

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/jul/19/trump-joe-biden-coronavirus-polls

This is why you should vote, though.

Here’s the nightmare scenario: Biden could win by a very small margin - too close to call, like the 2000 election - and the conservative Supreme Court could get to decide that Trump is the winner, even if he loses the popular vote by a substantial margin (again).

Knowing that this is a possibility doesn’t mean we should give up. It’s actually an argument for getting out and voting, and encouraging every person you know to vote, especially if you live in or know anyone who lives in a swing state. If Biden wins by a landslide, it will be significantly harder for Trump to argue the results. Yes, he’ll stomp his feet and say it was rigged and spout conspiracies. But he will have lost, and it’s important that the rest of the world can clearly see that.

You know how the United States sometimes does that thing where we stand behind the democratically elected candidate in contested elections in other countries? Yeah. We’re that country now! So in the case that Biden wins decisively and Trump tries to contest the results, I fully expect other democratic leaders like Trudeau, Merkel, Macron, etc. to say loudly and clearly, “Congratulations, President Biden! We look forward to working with you!” This hits the global news, making it even harder for Trump to argue his case since it exposes him for what he is: A big giant baby throwing a temper tantrum. I also expect (lol) most (some) Republicans to do the responsible thing and back Biden in this scenario (shoutout Mitt Romney in advance). Is it going to be messy? Probably! But our best chance of getting him out of office is to vote him out now - waiting another four years will be disastrous, and who knows what elections will look like after another four years of voter suppression, gerrymandering, and Trump welcoming foreign interference? Let’s not find out.

Would I be surprised if Donald Trump went on Fox News and continued to insist that everyone there call him President Trump for the rest of his life? No. And the situation above isn’t the only nightmare scenario: It is highly likely that the 2020 election will drag on for days as mail-in ballots are being counted. But I don’t give a fuck what he does after he’s out of the White House - as long as he’s no longer in a position power. I will physically go there myself and stand outside screaming until he leaves if I have to, and I hope you will join me.

TL;DR Donald Trump will leave the White House one way or another. If the idea of 4 more years of Trump scares you, then let’s do everything we can to make sure he sees a decisive loss in 2020. We can’t afford to wait for 2024, when who knows how he will have abused his power and even fewer of us will have the chance to vote him out.

Listen. Read. Educate yourselves. If you are unaware, fix that. Do not be complicit in the societal and legal oppression of transgender Americans.

Everytime I see this post I re-read the whole thing and reblog

Humans are Space Orcs, “Protective Humans.”

Saw this suggestion in my inbox from a couple months ago lol :)

“I am glad you could agree to come commander, with all of the …. Issues with the LFIL, we have had a really difficult time trying to maintain good relations with the rest of the galaxy.”

“We are glad we could come, of course, anything to help people understand humans a little bit better, plus Dr. Krill has a speaking engagement at the conference, so my coming here was twofold.”

“Ah, yes, your little doctor, when I heard about his particular speech, I have to admit I am very intrigued and excited. Anyway, we are glad that humans could come and help us with our mission. Even with human tourism growing in certain sectors of the galaxy, there are still many places were humans had never been seen, and it is in those areas where we have the most difficulty. They hear the rumors, and they see reports on the news about the worst kind of humans, and they just get scared.”

Commander Vir pulled to a stop standing next to the conference director, A Finnari by trade with a relatively trustworthy face despite being an alien, “Well, then they wouldn’t be the only ones. Humans have been practicing paranoia against ourselves for thousands of years.” 

Out in the hallway of the conference center, aliens bustled by many of them staring on at the commander and his group of following humans with wide frightened eyes. Some of them pointed in excitement while others shied away to the other side of the hall.

It was still true that less than 7 percent of all aliens in the galaxy had ever seen a human, and for many of these, that fact was no different.

This would be their first time seeing a human.

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