man is but a worm

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💕support the maryland goatman 💕

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💕support the lizard man of scape ore swamp 💕

💕support the mongolian death worm 💕

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support ALL cryptids!!! not just bigfoot and mothman!!!!!! 💕💕💕

Dark Orchid: Polubog

“Have you seen him? The wandering, writhing blubber wrapped in refuse skin, appearing as if worms playing as man? Consuming all as addition to it’s mass? Yes?
Then you have witnessed a blessed thing, for it is the demigod, the "Polubog"as the colonist called him, of Cherno. It is but an infant, simple instinct and naivete, born of a dead god and the eggs of humanity collected by the Silent caretakers. If you see the boney fliers roosting or swirling above, then their sweet orphan scavenges nearby.
Its form appears quite careless for a demigod, dosent it? If it were not for human infection within it’s form, it may have appeared quite different, though its birth would have never been necessary if not for humanity.
Someday the Polubog will have engorged itself enough to begin celestial metamorphosis, and will cleanse Cherno of humanity and the abortions of the Orchid, the daughter of it’s old enemy.”

@qadmonster

what if it wasn’t a black hole

blame at @setepenre-set because I just read the latest chapter of code safe word and the part where they talk about megamind’s parents kills me anyway

what if it wasn’t a black hole

what if megamind’s and metro man’s planets weren’t sucked into a black hole, but into some odd worm home–time break–something that just…let’s say put their planets elsewhere.

somewhere like in our galaxy near our sun.

what if one day two new planets show up and it baffles the science community because they showed up out of nowhere. And they’re near Earth kinda. In the way that things can be near Earth that doesn’t fuck up all the gravity.

And of course, this all happens the one weekend that Megamind, Minion, Roxanne, and Wayne to go like freaking camping and unplug for the weekend. No technology whatsoever. They have no idea idea. They’re just in the middle of the woods enjoying the fresh air and lakewater. 

(Wayne is an awful swimmer. He can’t float, really.) 

But as they’re stargazing one night, they realize that there are some new things up in the night sky. Megamind is itching to find out what because Wayne can see that they’re not stars per say, but the world doesn’t seem to be in turmoil, so they just let it be. 

The moment they get back to Metro City and when Megamind turns his phone back on, it’s flooded with voicemails and text messages and everything else. 

Roxanne’s phone is too and when she finally manages to call her boss back in a rushed conversation, she stills. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

“Just…turn on channel 8.” 

Bewildered, Megamind does as she asks and his breath catches in his throat. There is a non-human broadcast filling the airwaves. 

And the person speaking looks just like him. 

One year ago today, my dear @okimi79 and I published our very first fic together. We’d talked of collaborating on something for months but couldn’t quite figure out where or how to start, but finally we jumped in with both feet and didn’t look back. As it turns out, we work beautifully together (which really shouldn’t be shocking at all), and our combined efforts are some of the work I’m most proud of.

So, because I’m that sort of asshole, today’s queue is a self-congratulatory wankfest in celebration of our baby turning one. I hope you all enjoy!

Instructions for a walk in the desert

  • Never forget to bring water with you because if you do you may encounter a man with a hunched back that will sell you a bottle of water for a price but he never wants money. 
  • Don’t walk on the crest of a ridge or a dune because it silhouettes you against the sky and makes it much easier for Sand Snipers to pop you. 
  • If you hear foot steps behind you do not turn and look, keep walking and they’ll eventually go on their way. If you turn around and look then they will appear behind you and you’ll never see them. 
  • Fear no man, but be weary of the beast that shoots blood from it’s eyes
  • If there is no more path to walk then make your own however look out and be warned that stepping in sand may create vibrations that will attract the Sand Worm. 
  • Are you prepared to cross that dry creek bed? There’s a reason it’s dry. Something drank the water and lays in wait. 
  • A Scorpion is a tasty snack but a nest of them are a hazard that is best used to your advantage against an enemy.
  • Firearms do nothing against Skinwalkers but silver does. 
  • If you are lost look up to the sky and shout “THE SLEEPER HAS AWAKENED!” The direction you hear your echo return to you from is the direction that Shai Hulud dictates you must go. 

it nearly breaks my heart when mike says, “i’m sorry your poster boy let you down” because he thinks he’s failed 13 year old ginny, who idolized the man, the myth, the legend that is mike lawson.

but i love that she completely rolls her eyes at him because not only has he not let down young ginny, because mike lawson has been nothing but supportive to her as ball player, likely exceeding her expectations, but mike, the man, has continues to blow her away and worm his way into her heart, beard and all.

they’re so in unknowingly in love with each other.  and it is the greatest.

No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let’s choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives and all are Bolingbroke’s,
And nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d;
All murder’d: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be fear’d and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable, and humour’d thus
Comes at the last and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence: throw away respect,
Tradition, form and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while:
I live with bread like you, feel want,
Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
How can you say to me, I am a king?