SincereVioletDragonfly @sincerevioletdragonfly - Tumblr Blog

Imagine if a like 8 foot tall guy that looked kinda like an alien species just kinda showed up at the house you rent a room in and crashed on the couch and at first everyone hated him but you kinda just accepted this weird massive kinda-human alien species thing as a part of your group even though he's like twice the size of everyone else there

catboybiologist

Cuz that's literally happening to sea lions in San Francisco right now

catboybiologist

So there's two species of sea lion in North America: the California sea lion, ranging along California (including Baja) but not ranging into the north coast or into oregon

And the Stellar's sea lion, which are WAY bigger and live in Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska

A male Stellars sea lion showed up in SF like a month ago and just kinda. Didn't know what to do, and joined a colony of California sea lions, and is just kinda chilling there now.

catboybiologist

Weird vagrant species happen from time to time, but this is just a particularly funny instance of a highly social species getting very lost, and just trying to blend in with its closest nearby relatives

this-is-trans-joy

everyone loves to hate terfs until they realise that it actually entails rejecting bioessentialism entirely and then suddenly you’re “taking things too seriously” and you “don’t have a sense of humour” like i’m sorry but saying protect the dolls doesn’t make you immune to terfism it has seeped into every corner of mainstream feminism and unless you’re actively searching it out and checking your own biases you will always be at risk of sharing a space with terfs

this-is-trans-joy

“Only women can—” nope. “But all men—” nah. “The divine femininity of—” gonna stop you right there. “Everyone born ama—” if you finish that sentence I’ll kill you. “Men don’t experience—” you’re wrong. “Gender isn’t real but sex is imm—” *loud incorrect buzzer*

It also goes without saying that bioessentialism inherently can’t be trans inclusive no matter how hard you try. “All men including trans men—” probably not. “This is only a woman’s issue—” is it really? “Afabs only—” why? “All trans men are like—” what? what are they like? finish the sentence i dare you.

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…

breelandwalker

This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.

bardicjustice

They had brought along a human guide, because they had realized that the land was impossible to traverse without a native. The last squad to walk into the area without a guide had been quickly destroyed by a monstrous beast the human had named ‘Wolf.’

They were in the land the human called Canada, and they were prepared for any ‘Wolf’ or ‘Moose’ that crossed their path. Still, there was a tension in the air, as the squad had heard the horror stories of Australia and couldn’t help but wonder if this land was anything like it.

The human guide hadn’t been helpful. The squad members all took the human’s words very seriously, and the human had been taking advantage of that.

“Careful,” the human gasped, and every squad member froze. “See that?” it pointed at a small rodent-like animal that had long ears.

“It’s poisonous. Just one touch and you’ll die instantly.”

“What is it called? Are there many of them?” a squad member asked fearfully.

The human nodded seriously. “It’s called a bunny. They are everywhere.”

The ‘bunny’ was not poisonous, as they had found out. The human had just laughed at them when they carefully confronted the ‘bunny’.

They had decided to stop for a rest near a small body of water called a pond. Sle'thir had just put down his weapon when he noticed the human staring at the ground, frowning.

“What is it?” Sle'thir asked. The human pointed at a small, slimy green pellet on the ground. Sle'thir looked around and started to notice that they were all over the ground surrounding the pond.

“We need to go.” the human said nervously. “There are swans here.”

Sle'thir nodded and turned to the squad members. “Time to head out,” he called.

“Why, are there bunnies around?” Another said back sarcastically, and promptly sat on the ground.

The human had warned them. They barely survived, and none of them came out without a gouged eye or missing finger, save the human. They ran back to the settlement, leaving their dropped gear and sprinting away from the pond.

Sle'thir knew he would have nightmares about swans forever.

misheancolchester

It was only a small bite, nothing that the medic couldn’t wrap up and heal within a day or two. It was barely even a scratch and two of his crew hadn’t even made it out alive. He had counted himself lucky. The monsters that attacked them had gone by the name of some kind of mythological creature, and the humans had been coexisting with them, even protecting them, so they had underestimated the danger.

He would learn from this mistake though. His wound would heal, and he would be stronger for it.

Except it wouldn’t heal.

After a week, the wound had turned a nasty colour, and began to reek.

The scratch began to fester and ooze.

His strength was sapped and the medic could offer no cure.

In order to cool his feverish body he went outside to breathe. He needed to clear his head which was delirious with fever and pain.

He stumbled and fell, the edges of his vision blurred.

Then he saw it, between the trees, low to the ground, it’s tongue tasting the air, and it’s eyes dark, and unfathomably evil.

It heaved it’s scaly body towards him. The humans word for it floated across his mind as the monster began to devour it’s still breathing meal.

Komodo Dragon.

ambicolor

Tau'Hvelr felt his blood turn cold as the human began laughing. That horrible sound… at first they did not know what it meant. But word began to spread. If a human “laughed” while in the field, pain was always close behind. Not from the human, mind you, but from whatever unholy abomination the Xenkir had stumbled onto.

Tau’s mind raced through the possibilities. One “week” in this frozen forest had given him plenty of material. One of the massive, shambling wads of muscle the human had called a bear? There was no howling, and Tau knew his sense of hearing was far sharper than the human’s, so it couldn’t be a “wolf,” whatever that was. They weren’t near the water, so the huge “killer whale” was out (thank Her Majesty’s Divine Providence for that - Tau didn’t want to get anywhere near one of those.)

He refocused as the laughter continued. It must be related to the task at hand. The human had told them that the minerals the Xenkir needed to survive could be found under the ground, and that holes often opened up for easy access. The troops were low on sustenance, and when Tau saw one of these holes he leapt for it with his extractor ready. The limb was now 3 krlle deep into the tunnel, but…

“Human!” Tau'Hvelr snapped, “why are you laughing!?”

The human slowly stopped, wiped liquid from their ocular socket, and said “Because I’ve been a ranger up here for 15 years, and I know a wolverine den when I see one.

————

The screaming wouldn’t stop. Dark, light, no matter the period of the planet’s rotation the screaming wouldn’t stop. Two of S'viraj’s men had already punctured their audial receptors in an effort to get some peace. S'viraj was tempted, if she was being honest.

She stormed to the human, lounging in the shade while his captors went insane. “You will tell me what this is now!” She demanded. “Why are the trees making this awful noise?”

The human just looked at S'viraj. “It’s a Texas summer,” he drawled.

“And..?” S'viraj’s voice seethed with anger.

The human shrugged. “Cicadas.”

drukhari

Hate the stomach's occasional tendency to respond to hunger with nausea. Like babygirl you are NOT helping your case right now by threatening to push the emergency "eject all food now" button!!!

rosenkranz-does-things

awoo

findingmindely

Many sea bunnies

goatmilksoda

A question I get asked a lot while working at a public library is "how do you deal with homeless people?"

And the answer is, we don't.

The unhoused people who come here seeking refuge 99% of the time understand that they will be kicked out if they misbehave.

The people you have to watch out for are Jessica, who only came because the kid she didn't want had to visit for a homework assignment and she just *needs* to yell at her child for asking to borrow two books or stay an extra five minutes, or Michael, who came in to look at porn on our computers for whatever fucking reason, or Karen who just wanted to come by to throw a fit that the particular book she wanted was checked out and harrass our staff about our collection being too limited.

99% of the time, the people we need to ban are middle to upper-middle class white people while the homeless and mentally ill/disabled people mind their own damn business and are honestly some of the best patrons we have.

goatmilksoda

I bring this up because today we had a man come in. He stopped at the desk, pulled up a chair and said "I'm newly homeless and was living in my car. I'm disabled. It was impounded. It's raining. I don't have a phone and I don't know where to go tonight."

And we did what we could to help. He was incredibly kind and patient despite his obvious anxiety and stress, more than most able bodied, housed patrons are to us under much less dire conditions. I liked knowing that we were the first place he came.

We have so many people like this who come in everyday. Many are quiet and keep to themselves, but sometimes they talk to us.

They tell us about how they're taking a few courses on a scholarship they applied for from our library's computer at the local community college to get their diploma. Or ask about a manga or dvd or book we might have to help them pass the time.

One woman, who comes in daily with her tattered walker always says hello to me and likes to work on the new jigsaw puzzle with me when we set one out.

So like, treat unhoused people like people. Treat disabled people like people. I don't want my library to feel like the only safe space in the world, but I'm glad it can be one of them.

I'm so sick of hearing about how "the homeless are ruining everything" when they are some of the kindest, most respectful people here. Sometimes they mutter, might not have had a place to shower, and might need a little extra space for their backpacks but that's FINE. It Doesn't Matter Actually. None of that is a problem or any of my business to care about (unless they request help/services), and I also don't think it's any of yours.

peachfromcmbyn

The thing about Miss Piggy is that she kind of has a Roger Rabbit comedy superpower where she wins nearly any conceivable fight she's in. But unlike other characters of which that's true, like say, Bugs Bunny, who tend to win because they make the opponent play the game with their rules, Miss Piggy wins because the joke is that she can beat the shit out of literally anybody.

alexaloraetheris

This just wildly reminded me of this one speculation thread I read, possibly a full decade ago, about whether Bugs Bunny would be able to beat Saitama the titular One Punch Man (I forgot the details but I think Bugs Bunny won because his is the genre power of comedy and OPM is more comedy than BB is action so he would prevail on area advantage), and now I just imagining how that same thread would go if it was Miss Piggy.

One Punch Man vs. One Karate-chop Pig

Who would win?

Miss Piggy

One Punch Man

Voting ended onMay 17

Your justifications below please.

alexaloraetheris

Everybody go home, @cryptiddeer has won.