another false god

always experiencing an existential crisis. they/them.

[sound-star]

i edited this like 6 months ago and posted it on twitter but not tumblr. a shame.

[giraffepoliceforce]

I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.

They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.

[splintercellconviction-deactiva]

Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).

By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.

You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.

The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.

“Hippopotamus.”

[artdeactivate2025]

This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned 

[skeletonmug]

Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”

And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.

But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.

Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.

You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.

The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.

You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.

It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.

Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.

When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.

“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.

[jabberwockypie]

One word: Moose

[myurbandream]

“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”

BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!

“That’s called a moose.”

[morebadbookcovers]

Wolverines.

Also.. dolphins.

[ohgodshesloose]

The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.

You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…

When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.

And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.

Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.

“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“

[majingojira]

Every night. 

It came for someone almost every night. 

Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight.  They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved.  Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again. 

What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror.  Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather.  It had fangs as long as his grasping digits.  Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity.  And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.

Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it. 

The earth natives called the monster a leopard.  

It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge.  Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster. 

But rumor was that there was worse on this planet.  Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.

A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity.  While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out.  This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.

[lyricwritesprose]

“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped.  “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts.  And these are domesticated.  Harmless.”

The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent.  “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.”  Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.

More not-quite-looking.  455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner.  “That one,” she decided.  “Alone in the separate pasture.  Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker.  Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season.  And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium.  This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”

[petermorwood]

I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…

It was a strange creature Tar'van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.

“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.

The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.

Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’

“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”

Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.

The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.

“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.

“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”

The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.

“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.

“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.

Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.

“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”

Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.

“Please,” Tar'van bags. “Get us back safely.”

[miracufic]

@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus?  Why was it necessary?

[kryallaorchid]

oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.

[kawaguardian-blog]

(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)

They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.

Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.

The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar'van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar'van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”

[lemon-embalmer]

“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”

“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”

“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”

The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.

In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.

But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.

Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”

[murkymuse]

“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?” 

The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)

“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling. 

It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.  

[ehyde]

“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.” 

– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898

[catbountry]

I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.

I think at that point they’d just give up.

[invaderdrey]

Or fire ants

[eeyore9990]

No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…

[sludge-wizard]

please god let at least 1 person get this joke

[chronicallyvegan]

Science finally supports that we are all born as blank slates and gender is merely a construct

Last month a study on the human brain showed that we were wrong: brain structure is not gender-specific.

[zvaigzdelasas]

If any of my followers believes that “brain sex” is a rigid and well defined category check this out

[spyderbones]

I actually did a study on this in my freshman year of university!

I had to give a ten minute presentation on gender and a) how it’s different from sex, and b) whether or not there’s such thing as a “male” and “female” brain.

I found COUNTLESS studies supporting the idea that the brain itself is unisex- there is very little, if any, difference between “male” and “female” brains, with one exception. I’m by no means a neuroscientist but this is what I understood from this particular article: there’s this tiny part of the hypothalamus (a small part of the brain) that has neutrons in it, and the number of neutrons varies. HOWEVER, when the brains of cis men and women and trans men and women (who had not taken hormones for years prior to the time of death) were studied, it was found that the cis men and trans men had almost identical average neutron counts, and the cis women and trans women had almost identical average neutron counts. So if you’re DMAB but realize at some point that you’re a trans woman, as far as your brain is concerned, you ARE a woman! The same goes for DFAB trans men (intersex/nonbinary individuals weren’t studied, unfortunately).

TLDR; Your brain doesn’t care what you were “born as”, only what you really are!

[lauramercierbodyscrub]

being in a public restroom and hearing someone shitting really loud

[fstw-deactivated20141229]

being in a public restroom

[tango12212-deactivated20150821]

being in a public

[fstw-deactivated20141229]

being

[lauramercierbodyscrub]

people adding things 2 my posts

[fstw-deactivated20141229]

your posts

[lauramercierbodyscrub]

ur blog

[kmalakhn-blog-blog]

u

[lordwellingtonofficial]

IM LAUGHING SO HARD. I THREW MY PHONE SO I COULD BREATHE

[butchfatty-deactivated20210203]

you thinking that comment was necessary

[adamatronic-deactivated20170419]

thinking

[delusion-of-negation]

wen u zoom in

[c0ld-h4nds-deactivated20181105]

I love this post

[eee-in]

love

[c0ld-h4nds-deactivated20181105]

It just keeps getting better

[ilikechildren--fried-deactivate]

overused captions

[adamatronic-deactivated20170419]

Tumblr’s new layout

[this-is-cthulhu-privilege]

tumblr

[1nvisibl3]

the internet

[tomche]

this is the only long ass post i’m ever going to reblog

[zenpencils]

US AGAINST THE WORLD by Gavin Aung Than

This is the third appearance of the Ballet Boy and his father. You can read PART 1 and PART 2.

[vonsitty]

This is amazing

[ladyofthefanart]

Reblogging. Again

[blogybo]

beautiful

[lebanesepeach]

Hi! I’m a 21 year old college student who is currently unemployed and only receives a stipend of 200 a month for all of my expenses (groceries, gas, electricity) and recently I found out I am pregnant and have decided an abortion is the best possible option for me. In my state it is around 400 WITH assistance from private donors and unfortunately I can’t cover even a little bit of that so I’m setting up this donation fund.

Thank you so much please share or donate if you can!

[celestialrunes]

[elexuscal]

Talking with writers online

Their stories: Amazing grammar, soaring vocabulary, beautiful imagery and prose which flows like a river.

In chats: no capitalisation or punctuation, swears like a sailor, misspellings everywhere, acronyms and abbreviations every five words, idek

[alwaysboth]

#listen #listen do u know how much braining it takes to make the words go? #it is a lot #it’s like wearing fancy clothes all day #and then when you’re at home and comfy #u just put on ur pj’s ( @feynites)

[spr0utcity]

reblog if you’re def the kind of person who

says “cool beans”

does finger guns

says “coolio”

“my guy”

“my dude”

ironically said “get rekt scrub” and now can’t stop

“ayyeee” 

makes a lot of weird faces

[mohtz]

Greek Mythology | The Lovers Eros & Psyche, Achilles & Patroclus, Pygmalion & Galatea, Hades & Persephone

(i’m thinking about printing these and the greek mythology goddesses series.. so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! )

[chrsitianbale]

[cluelessfanperson]

trying to figure out which person I can relate to the most 

[oneaboutyou-blog]

What is one common food that you absolutely will not eat?

[pigdemonart]

It’s the Overwatch High School AU thing. Like I said before, I’ve seen drabbles and fanart of characters as students, so I tried a different take where they keep their ages and are staff members instead. Thanks to everyone who sent me suggestions for each character! <3 

bonus: 

[metahatem]

Hello and greetings earthlings! There has been an amazing project I’ve been working on! That is an Epic graphic novel beautifully written by Anne Peterson Sobel & Adam Sobel and illustrated by me. It’s called: “Asra & the Orphan Moon”. It takes place in a post-apocalyptic Arabian Gulf with tons of mystery, football and superpowers!. I still have a considerable amount of work to put into it so I will need your help bringing it sooner to life!.

Making a small contribution or simply just spreading the word about the project are wonderful ways to help.

PLEASE GO TO: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/asra-the-orphan-moon-comic#/

And Follow: @asratheorphan​! UPDATE:  We only have 5 DAYS LEFT to end our campaign! Please contribute by a donation &/or REBLOG!!!!! :)..SPREAD THE WORD! ………………………… SO..ABOUT ASRA: Asra is a girl who have been cursed by an evil fortune teller that has bad habit of turning women to stone and feed on their power to gain immortality! However.. Things don’t stay the same and the story-after a lot of drama, mystery and action- turns upside down and Asra fights back!.

 Asra and the Orphan Moon is a graphic novel epic, spanning 100 years, and featuring jinn, black magic, and incredible female Khaleeji characters inspired by history.This 500-page story will be published in two volumes. If you have any comments, ideas, questions or requests please send me! (here is good or my email if you prefer: [email protected]) I’ll be updating you with some work in progress in the future. THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

[grrrenadine]

1 DAY LEFT!

[venomines]

in this au i kinda wanna make mondatta zenyatta’s stunning but super judgey twin…???

[marauders4evr]

Do you have any triggers?

Jello, Popsicles, Soup Broth. 

[marauders4evr]

Nah, I never joke about Jello, Popsicles, and Soup Broth…

[marauders4evr]

Indeed, I am!

I’m a disability advocate whose triggers are Jello, Popsicles, and Soup Broth. 

[marauders4evr]

I legit just lost a follower over this. 

They must be really big fans of Jello and/or Popsicles and/or Soup Broth. 

[marauders4evr]

For those who have trouble detecting sarcasm - the last sentence about them being fans of said foods was sarcastic. But a few people have really unfollowed me over this. 

The other three replies, including the original, are serious. 

Jello, Popsicles, and Soup Broth are my legit triggers. I would never joke about that. 

I know it sounds bizarre. But trust me, I’m serious. 

(I’m also not a big fan of fluorescent lights.)

[marauders4evr]

It should be noted that I haven’t received this many death threats since the Great Snape War of 2013. 

[marauders4evr]

This is by far my favorite reply:

[marauders4evr]

All right, folks, take your seats, because class is now in session! Let’s have a little talk…

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s Saturday, but learning is fun.

I’ve had seven surgeries in my lifetime and will probably have many more in the future. And one such surgery, which happened about nine years ago, involved really fun (*sarcasm*) things like tubes that are shoved up your nose and end up in your stomach (I know, I didn’t think it was possible either until they did it), eight gallons of really disgusting fluid, pain, lots of pain, and the direct order that I had to evacuate every single bit of food that was inside me.

And that was before the surgery even began!

After the surgery, I had to stay in the hospital for about a month.

And I was on what’s called a clear-liquid diet.

What’s a clear-liquid diet?

For this particular hospital:

Water, Jello, Popsicles, and Soup Broth.

A meal that was delivered to my hospital room three times a day.

That’s all I was allowed to eat.

For those of you who enjoy doing math: I was in the hospital for a month, which is roughly 30 days. I had to eat this meal three times a day. That’s 90 bowls of soup broth, 90 containers of Jello, and 90 Popsicles. Ninety times I had to eat these things. In the span of a month. 90.

Which means that nine years later, I am actually physically unable to eat these three items without vomiting. It’s a sensory trigger.

So why didn’t I talk about this from the beginning instead of enduring four death-threats, six unfollows, and nineteen messages/comments (not including the death threats and the ones that just said ‘Popsicles, Jello, Soup Broth’ over and over again)?

Well, there’s two reasons.

A.) I don’t have to. People don’t ever have to explain why something is triggering to them. Once they say that it is, it should just be a given.

And

B.) The above comment is right. I am a disability advocate. And part of that advocacy includes advocating on behalf of people with triggers. And so, you’ve all been part of a social experiment for the past few hours - an experiment to see how people react when they see that someone has really bizarre triggers (out-of-context).

And I’m a bit sad to say that many of you have failed. Even other people with triggers and/or other advocates. 

So listen because this is really important:

I know that triggers are a sensitive subject and I know that there are people out there who do joke about them.

But there are even more people out there who have triggers that seem really bizarre and even silly.

And you know what?

You cannot invalidate those triggers.

You cannot assume that someone is joking, you cannot assume that they’re mocking other people with triggers that are more commonplace or ‘sensible’, you cannot assume that they are anything less than genuine.

If someone tells you that they have a trigger, you need to believe them, no matter how bizarre it might seem.

Class Dismissed.